I die when he pulls my head up like that and places his chin on my forehead. I feel so loved. <3 M
Dang, RT!
Take a moment, and just try and think about how you look right now. What a mess you’ve become. Try and slide your eyes out of your head, get a new perspective, and take an objective glance at the sprawl of limbs and struggles that make up you, right now. It’s almost silly. I don’t know why you even try.
You’re not going to get free. Struggling isn’t going to do anything but make you uncomfortable when your limbs start to ache, and your frustration sears itself like a light in the dark across your retinas, something harsh and distracting. Why don’t you just rest? Why don’t you accept the fact that’s sounding on the klaxon like there’s a fucking air raid about to hit?
You are done.
You are mine.
And you don’t get to move an inch without my say so.
You’re tied because it’s the only way that you’ll really know, for sure, that you’re finished. That the little rebellious spark that whimpers in the corner of your head, tries to lash out when I’m moving in, is about to become an ex-spark. It’ll still come out to play, I’m sure, but the fight will be gone. Because this is the point where we both know that your ability to refuse my control is behind you. You’ve tripped the wire, and now you have to deal with the mine.
All mine.
Bound
It’s time.
To bind you to me.
The rope will bite, will burn, will force the smile from your lips;
As you wait, obedient, quiet, I wrap you in my desire, the coils curl around your heart as I wrap your wrists.
Each twist of the rope, tightens my hold, binds you closer;
Each knot, each turn, forces a groan, melts your body to my will;
Bound, held tight to me in body and mind.
Words by The Dirty Romantic
