I don’t like you… hmmm, maybe that is not strictly true but I certainly don’t like the look of you. You look stingy and evil, there is nothing beautiful about you, you don’t flow and caress like the flogger you are all straight, firm, mean and nasty and yet….
I hate the bite of you against my skin, the sting that floods my senses and makes me cry out. I hate you for that but… there is that noise you make; a soft gentle hiss as you travel towards me and once the initial shock has worn off and my skin starts to flush from your repeated attention that sting that you so love to start out with starts to diminish and flows deeper into my flesh filling my muscles with increasing warmth. My body starts to unlock, the tension which grips my muscles when you first touch me is gradually, rhythmically, beaten out of me. Closing my eyes I focus on that heat and the noise and let the fight go. I don’t want to fight you, even when I do. Sometimes my body reacts before my brain can kick in and control it. I don’t want you to stop, I don’t want it to end and yet I can’t wait for it to be over because then I will get to see your true beauty; the marks you leave on me, hot raised angry welts beneath which lingers the dark spots of bruising.
You and I we have a true love hate relationship. I hate you for your poisonous sting and mean lines but beneath that hate lays a passionate love for you and everything that you leave behind in your wake.
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