Struggling to get in

Sometimes the Outside seems to be the only safe place to be she thought. Away from the inner thoughts, the nagging voice, the Her that hadn’t found those missing pieces of the jigsaw image of her soul. There were moments when completeness enveloped her like silken rope tight, flexible, colourfully matching skin tones with delightfully complex weaves leaving deep salty welts. These were though, too much of a rarity. Too governed by the experience & ability of professional submissives borrowed or bought who needed no lengthy tuition. Stretched, exposed, they took pain gratefully and silently. They abandoned their flesh without question or demure as she quietly experimented with Herself. What was it that now gave pleasure? Whose sounds echoed in her mind as she toyed with herself, neck deep in warm water, creating the smoothest ripples to tease her oozing cunt breaking the surface as though a tongue lapped at her.

The sensation of slowly cumming again gave the mind such freedom. Recalling his groans as he pleasured himself sharing such detailed needs. The memory floating through her veins of the woman, made to explode by her soul mate apologising through the ecstasy. Sounds so deeply imprinted that they’d made her wet standing on train platforms, in coffee shops, oblique random nowhere points when her lips swelled, her juices dripped tellingly between her legs without needing a touch to send her stomach muscles clenching in desire.

Desire to? Use? Be used? the bliss of audible voyeurism? Where now were the paths confidently walked in surety of Self? The labels no longer fit she thought. In her physical being she needed pain; its release. The joy of torment leaving trails across the body that could be touched, caressed by clothing for days after a searing reminder of happiness. Pain in all its finery, scorching skin fire red under the blows; holes plugged with steel or glass against which beaten flesh clenched in thigh drenching need. Words; conjuring forth the filth and depravity that unlocked her/Her. Strength, not domination, of another that could control the need and the consequences.

The water chilled. The slow exploration of a finger seemed to twirl the thread of cum like the path of a subterranean snail. The Outside intruded, sounds of life as a phone trilled in another room. She realised she had, briefly and longingly, slipped inside.


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