Her Unequivocal Submission

In everything she does, all I see is pain. The way she crawls, the way she hangs her head, the way she offers up her wrists to be bound behind her back, her submission is not normal. It isn’t this thing she does on the weekends. She doesn’t have an outfit that reveals the sub in her. She lives it. Her soul bleeds it. I see it when she’s sitting there silently reading. I see it in the way she slowly chews her food; in the way she listens to music. A lifetime of overcoming the things that have tried to destroy her has left this battle-tested fragile piece of glass kneeling in front of me.

When her body trembles as I pace around her, it’s moments like these I savor. It’s like we’re in a space without physical laws. Our lives and past don’t exist here. In this bubble, it’s the safest both of us can feel. And it’s crazy because I am going to hurt her. I am going to press my foot against her neck. I am going to drag her by her hair across the cold floor.

The argument could be made we’ve traded one high for another. That argument has merit. But it isn’t metaphorical blood pumping in our veins. It isn’t a symbolic heart pounding against our chests. We are real people, as far as either of us can tell. How we got here only needs to make sense to us. I tell her she’s worthless. She sees the disgust on my face. I cover her mouth with my hand and slam her naked body into the wall. She doesn’t break. She falls to her knees. Her tears are real. I rub my cock against her locked lips. I grab her neck until her mouth opens. I forced myself down her throat.

I tell her she’s fucking pathetic. “You dirty little cock sucker. You love having your mouth filled, don’t you? You fucking cunt. Suck it. Don’t stop. God, you’re filthy. Do you know that? Look at you. How did you become such a needy whore? Hmm?” There’s something so satisfying about being in the muck. It’s what we both know. We were born into it. We lived there most of our lives. And now that we’ve pulled ourselves out, it feels good to visit from time to time and just lay in it until our bodies are covered in grime.

My hands grip the side of her head and I fuck her face. She can’t stop looking at me through her watering eyes. I sneer and grunt. “Is this what you want?” I yell loud enough to hurt my throat. “Do you want me to break you? Do you want me to ruin you?” She nods. I slap her. I reach between her legs. My cock slips out of her mouth. She’s trying to catch her breath as drool hangs from her chin. “Oh, my fucking God. How are you this wet?” I ask. She starts to answer but before she can I shove four pussy juice-covered fingers in her mouth. I push deeper until she gags. “Are you going to tell me, hmm? How are you this wet after I just abused your slut-throat?” I demand to know an inch from her face.

Her answer is gargled. She can’t pronounce her M’s and W’s. But what comes out is, “I’m a whore.”

I pet her tangled messy hair. “I know you are, honey,” I whisper. My voice is filled with faux sympathy. I shove my hand deeper. “It’s why I love you.”

Lifting her to her feet by her throat, I turn her around and grab the back of her neck. I bend her over. She props herself up by placing her hands on the wall. Thrusting with my pelvis, my cock rubs between her legs. She’s dripping on me. “Is this how you want to live your life?” I ask, reaching around and squeezing her cheeks so hard I can feel the inside of her mouth. I turn her head and make her look at me. “Is it? Is this what you want?”

She nods, staring into me. To someone who isn’t me, I imagine they look hollowed out. They look like that darkness you see when you peer down into a hole and you can’t see the bottom. Logically, it has one but my imagination wonders if I stepped off the edge would I fall forever. That’s how it feels at that exact moment I slip into her cunt. She’s still looking at me when she says, “Please try to fuck the whore out of me. I want to be a good girl for you.”

I push the back of her head, mushing her cheek against the wall. If I could, I’d push her through it. I want to break her. I want to rip her open and study her parts so I can try to get a better understanding. Her desperation and devotion seem so profound. We do this every day- every time we see one another. All our interactions are painted in the colors of dominance and submission. Her aim is nothingness. My aim is everything. She gives. I take. If we do it right, in the end, she will be empty and I will be full. But there always seems to be a little room left in me. There always seems to be a glimmer of something left in her.

My cock tears into her cunt. I hold her by her hair, “Give it to me!” I yell so loud the floor vibrates beneath my feet. But I’m not sure what I want her to give. Maybe that’s why it always seems out of reach. I can’t tell if she’s moaning or crying. “You needy little slut. You’re filth, do you know that? Do you fucking know that?” I can’t tell if I’m trying to fuck her or if I’m trying to erase her from existence. Our bodies slam together. She bites her lip. My nails dig into her scalp. Every time we collide, we get closer.

All the way inside her cunt, I cum. Her pussy clenches around my shaft. I smack the back of her head. “Give it to me, bitch!” I demand.

She screams, “Fuck! I’m cumming!”

I grab her ass. I spank one cheek and then the other. I lean over and bite her shoulder until my teeth could rip away a mouthful of flesh. Pulsing, pressure builds in my balls, and fluid surges through my shaft. She screams “You own me!”

My first load blasts into her pussy. I moan, “I do fucking own you.” My second load has as much force as the first. Her body reacts like she’s being zapped with a defibrillator. Then, all her energy leaves her. I have to hold her up so I can finish.

She whimpers incoherently, hanging in my arms.

I thrust a few more times before I let go. She falls to the floor. She lays there like a pile of nothing. Her body squirms. “I did this to you,” I tell her even though she already knows. Leaning down by her ear I whisper, “Me. You understand. I’m the one who knows exactly how to treat a desperate slut like you.”

She repositions herself so her head is by my toes. She rubs the side of her face against my foot. I stand there watching my property – basking – admiring the way she fell apart.