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| caprycorn |
I want to go out. I want to dust off my corsets. I want to choose my favourite boots. I want to primp and preen. I want to be laced into satin or leather so tightly that it grips me, lifts me, encases me and makes it difficult to breathe.
I want to rustle in taffeta skirts. I want to sweep. I want to be mascaraed, lipsticked, perfumed and painted. I want to don the "Capi" facade fully and go out.
I want to stay in, wearing nothing but stockings and my collar and to serve at his whim for his pleasure with her kneeling by my side to serve us both.
I want to tie her to a cross. I want to whip her. I want to whip her until she screams. I want to dig my fingers deep into her hair and pull her head back until the tendons stand out on her neck and she gasps for breath. I want to see her eyes glaze with pain, pleasure and feel her cunt wetten and tighten against my probing fingers. I want to sink my teeth into her shoulder or into her breasts and feel her yell of shock translate into my mouth through her flesh. I want to lick the sweat from her skin. I want to whisper in her ear that she's a whore, my whore, and that she'll come for me. Now.
I want to throw her to the floor right here, right now. I want to kick her legs apart. I want to take her with a strap-on whilst pulling hard on her collar. I want to ride her fast and hear her moan with pleasure and pain. I want her muzzled by her head harness, objectified by leather until she becomes my toy, my pet, my pleasure. I want to see her crawl to J's feet, to fulfil his every want. I want to see him fuck her if he chooses; I want to look at him as he does at me, to tell me he loves me, to respond to him in kind as he is buried deep inside the woman we love.
I want to be splayed wide in our bed. I want to be fucked, deep and hard. I want to feel the sting of the harshest flogger against my buttocks, slashing and biting, thongs also catching my cunt and making me scream. I want to feel the bite of vicious clover clamps on my nipples, twin agonies blooming as he pulls savagely on the chain. I want to be ordered by J to hold my breasts, offering them up to the cane. I want to see the cloudy bruises spread ink dark, the welts slash scarlet and black lines over my pale flesh. I want to beg and to plead and for those pleas to be ignored as insignificant as I'm taken for his pleasure, beaten for his pleasure, whatever he wishes being the only thing that matters. I want to be gagged to have even the choice of speech taken away so that all I can do is grunt and groan. I want to be hooded, blinded by leather, leather scent so strong that it's all I can taste, all I can smell. I want to be welted, bitten, beaten, cuffed, chained. I want to be unable to escape and to feel the adrenaline course as flight or fight kicks in and both are denied. I want to live in that red instant where all that matters is his will.
I want to feel my skin burn hotter, my heart beat faster.
I want it all. And I want it now. I'm fully aware of the irony of listing wants, especially from one's Dominant who is not a facilitator after all. But I know it's what he wants - he's whispered it in my ear as he rides me hard. I in turn know what I want of her. I want to take her, both of us, and in turn for me to be taken by him. Now. And I can't have it now. I will have to wait and hope that such wait makes it - all and any of it - all the sweeter when it happens. Because it will happen and it will be so gloriously good. It's all just a matter of time.
