why am i here
i dont even know who you are
yet here i am
in this hotel room, arms bound, i hear the belt
loosen from around your waist, and
-snap-
with the crackle of fine leather...
it is too thick, (oh god what have i done)
the towel is tied too tight, i'm losing circulation to my arms,
and pins and needles
creep into my fingers, i can hardly breathe
fear him, fear this, a rush
pulse quicken pound in my ears
pound hard and fast, irregular
memories of seashells, curling and twisting
my arms, fuck! ripped up by the wrists behind my back
and pressed down again, i hear the crunch and pull of
cartilage on bone
bite on the rag gag struggle and strain
lust brought me here is it worth all this pain
i look at my master he yanks back my hair
untie the gag and plant me a kiss
racking my body...
away
to
fire! (oh god why am i here?)
the sting fills me, i feel the welt rising
but not enough
hot and burning
across my shoulders i want to fight it
yet i am helpless and succumb
again,
and again,
and again,
to this punishment
i feel i deserve...

i am the controller of karma,
in being the slave i master myself,
reaching nirvana
through reverse orgasmic numbness
that furthers the cycle of self destruction and hatred...
through this pain there is retribution and satisfaction

and a futile religion of sorts,
righting the wrongs and paying debts long forgotten.
the crusade is lost now, there is no line of pleasure/pain
it has been erased long ago