Jun 132013

He had been bound and kissed, stretched and fucked, loved and beaten until there was little of him left. Nearly all of him was mine. He wanted me to take the rest — he begged for harder, faster, more. Past a point, he is so much mine he can’t be trusted to act in his best interest. Despite his want (and despite my own), I decided he would take no more that night.

After I untied him, I lay down at his side, propped up on my elbow so I could watch his lovely face. Eyes glassy and unfocused, lips slightly parted, he turned to face me. I couldn’t tell if he was entirely present or a million miles away. With a hand on his chest to anchor him to earth, I felt his heartbeat, slow and steady, his breathing, deep and even.

I leaned down, my face to his, and whispered my love and violent adoration between his parted lips. There was little indication he was even listening until I paused to take a breath. His lips closed, he swallowed, and opened up once more.

I studied his face for a moment, leaned in closer, and spoke sweet, sick words of my possession into his willing, open mouth — I told him what I’d taken and the ways I’d already made him mine. Hushed but nearly hissing, I detailed my unsatisfied desire — I claimed whatever he was holding back, what was left for me to have.

I watched every word slip between his lips and sink into his throat.

I paused. He swallowed.

He was hungry — perhaps as hungry for my possession I was eager to possess.

My words imbued with purpose, more promise than poetics. My voice was slick and silver, it’s cadence more characteristic of incantation than meaningless sweet nothings. I didn’t want him to hear me. I wanted him to eat my every word. I wanted to shove them down his throat. I wanted them to sit heavy in his stomach — to fill him up and make him hungry, to nourish him and make him sick.

I paused. He swallowed.

Eyes still blurry and unfocused, his lips parted, he awaited more.


  10 Responses to “eat my words”

  1. I love how you write.

    • Thanks, Cammies (M or A?). I always appreciate your kind words and encouragement. :) It means more than you know.

      It also makes me *squee* (but don’t tell anyone!)

  2. That’s one beautiful moment captured beautifully with words. Thank you for that image, it resonates with me and makes me happy.

  3. This is incredibly beautiful. What a magnificent piece of writing; and thank you for sharing the moment with us.

    • You rock, Harper. :) Your encouragement means a lot. Sometimes I write something that’s incredibly personal and meaningful to me, and I wonder if any of it means anything to anyone else. You always confirm that my words do matter. Thank you. :)

  4. What I like most about this post is the way you can put, in such beautiful words, something so completely outside the realm of my experience. I can almost feel it physically.

    While I have never had such a moment, it makes me happy to know that such a thing is possible.

  5. “He was hungry — perhaps as hungry for my possession I was eager to possess.”



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