Don't wanna

You told me in an email, "No one has ever been able to break me, and I think you could be the one."

Stupid, arrogant little boy.

Break you? I barely fucking know you.

Breaking you implies I give enough of a shit to put you back together afterwards like a good little massa.

Let's get something straight- I don't.

So I don't give a fuck if I 'break' you.

I just want to fuck you up.

I want to watch you flinch when the cold chains wrap around your wrists... ZOMG chains on wrists you might get bruises and then DIIEEEEEEE.... and then hook 'em to the eyebolts in my ceiling.

USB20 put them in for my birthday last year. They'll be a year old soon.

Maybe I'll give him a birthday present to say thank you.

I digress. Reading his pr0n does that to me.

I want to wrap the chains around your wrist and watch you shiver involuntarily from the cold against your hot skin. Watch your face go tight as you realize I've seen you flinch, watch you buck up and try to pretend you didn't because oh noes I might think you're not a big and tough and scary!

You're not, bitch. Right now you're a hanging chunk of meat.

Go be scary to someone else in your pretty digital uniform and shiny little gun. They're not here, and I am.

I and a length of chain link from Home Depot. It was your idea, and that makes it all your fault.

Tiny little links leave a lovely trail of welts.

Maybe if I were a Good Dominant I'd be able to make pretty patterns with it and take pretty pictures.

But, well, I'm not and I can't and I don't.

Also, I don't take pictures.

So I'll just hit with it instead.

The first blow, winding up my arm and down my hand with the snap of the wrist that makes a lunge whip crack, is across your chest.

Across your chest and trailing across one nipple while you grunt and groan and try to be A Twue and Stoic Mas-o-cast.

Bah. Boring little twat. I want you to make some noise for me.

Another blow, wrapping around your torso now like the flogger falls everyone says Do Not Do but it's soooo pretty wrapping around you and kissing your ribcage while you grunt and strain a little against the chain.

Another one, diagonal now across your back and your making a low keening sound but it's not enough and I want to hear you scream so it's time to switch chains, to grab the heavy links designed to hold rabid pit bulls inside their swept-earth yards even when the census man comes to knock at the door.

This one bruises, this one can break bone if I hit you wrong so I shove you around and let it fly against your back until your spine bows and a strangled scream rips from your throat.

Mmmmm, much better.

I haven't had a boy beg me for mercy in a long time.

I think you're going to.

I think two more blows will do it.

I'm suddenly debating in my head.

Good Dom, Bad Dom.

One good blow over the kidneys won't kill you, but it will have you pissing blood for a few days and blubbering.

Two good blows to the sweet spot where thighs meet ass will have a similar effect but I don't wanna be good, Mommy, I wanna hurt him....

3am

You are making small whimpering noises in your sleep, little puppy-like snuffling sounds as you move across the bed seeking my warmth. The rice paper that covers your bedroom window blocks little light, and even now at 3am I can see your face relaxed and childlike in sleep as you search for me.

I love that you search for me, that you seek in me safety, and warmth, and comfort.

It makes me want to wrap you up tightly in my arms and keep you safe forever, and it makes me want to rip you from sleep with a hand over your mouth and another pinching shut your nose before I ride you into oblivion.