pulverized, yet tenderized

pulverized, yet tenderized 
by: pescado

do You know my Mistress how my heart aches, when beaten by you?

to feel the swiftness of Your open palm, as it cuts a swath of pain that’s laced.

the return of Your knuckles as they follow through,

and, the devilish smirk upon Your face,

as You watch them redden to spattered, bloody hue.

do you know my Mistress that i can feel the spot,

where Your roundhouse hit my ribs.  

ecstacy almost made my heart stop.

the pain and the impact were almost too much to bear.

it felt as though You ripped it out,

caressed it,

 then put it back, still beating there.

Your powerful kicks, with meticulous skill,

pounded and pulverized my face … I’m swollen still.

the impact and the follow through, of Your fists are such a delight.

after each strike my ears would ring, head dizzily spin, to make sense of the impending night.

You danced around on treads of deadly, pink sneaks,

launching kick after kick, trying to knock out my teeth.

i fell in a heap at Your feet like a crumpled, tattered leaf.

but, You sought to be satiated and needs fulfilled.

there was more on the platter, more blood to spill.

a submission is not full, a submission is not complete, without the shudder of  hands and the trembling of  feet. 

total power over another, can only be gained, by getting inside the skull

and fucking with the brain.

for it is there where fear tastes the sweetest, a metallic taste to the tongue,

the sugary spot where terror and anxiety meet, the threat of a beating begun.  

for the pull of the lead, which is nowhere but in the mind.  

i’m tethered there, wrapped up in Her life, mercilessly attached to Her line.  

                                                                                             

yet, i know in my gut that with each reddened mark,

each speeding right, left, lethal combo that You launched from Your heart.

each slap happy smack and deadly flying kick.

every spring loaded foot, that landed painfully quick.

when You see in my eyes salty, devotional tears,

that pool at Your feet, yet You smile with a leer. 

down my soot stained face, around my bruised, swollen nose.

red streams down Your fist and drips onto my clothes.  

the closeness i feel cannot be replete,

without my face being squashed, under the treads of Your feet.

and then …

do You know, how it feels when You’re through?

like a mac truck has just left after barreling through. 

i don’t want it to end, even though i quiver in fear.

i want to be close, i want You to be near.

as i rest my weary distended head in Your lap,

Your hand tries to straighten my hair with a warm, friendly pat.  

W/we both relish in silence as You return to Your work,

using my head as an arm rest, your fingers click and they whir. 

i trace the deep gouges, You left in my cheek,

then i trace the tread patterns on Your lethal, pink sneaks.

i slump down to the floor with drowsy eyes lay.  close to Your feet, beaten up from O/our rough play. as i sleep in deep bliss, still unaware, Your dark hair passes over my shoulder; You stare. Your nails glaze softly over the frame of my cheek, as i faintly hear You whisper, “Shhhhhhhhhhhhh …  pet, … Now, Go to sleep.”

pescado – 11/25/2014