Multifarious Simplicity

Multifarious Simplicity

What I want is simple. What I need is pure. It's the most base, unsullied, clean thing a man can ever want, really, right up there with food, and shelter, and clean air to breath.

I want. You. More specifically, I want to own you, to possess you, to hurt you and Dominate you.

I want you like men wanted women back before they understood that women were tender creatures. Before they knew about coddling, and cuddling, and cajoling and coaxing and convincing.

I want you in ways that involve a big, heavy club, and a lot of dragging about by the hair, and I don't care if you're perfectly happy and willing to follow me, I want to drag you about anyway, because that's clean and base and primal, and it smells of rightness and completion.

I want to reduce the complex, ever changing creature that is us to it's lowest common denominator: You, with your face shoved into the bed, the pillows, the floor, the dirt and sand, it doesn't matter. What matters is you, prone and helpless, while I labor behind you, taking what is mine to take, and yours to give, or to not give, but it is mine anyway.

I want to see your reluctance. I want you to fight. I want your struggle, the heat blooming in you as you try your best to deny me.

And then I want to taste your shame as you lose that fight.

Not the one with me, though you'll lose that, too.

The one with yourself.

I want your reluctant pleasure. Your wicked yielding. Your whimpered, shameful truth.

I own you. You are an object. A prize. My prize. And I own you because I rode you down, and took what I want, and you could do nothing but give it to me, because it was right.

I want to put you in that place of realization, and watch as your shame, your lust, and your helpless submission beat you with a heavier club than I could ever carry.

You'll linger there, forever. I'll make you wallow in it. I won't let you escape it like so many others would.

After, your tears will be mine, just like everything else, and I will savor those as I have savored all of you.

Then, the tenderness comes. And I will remind you how beautiful our shared ugliness is.
More beautiful than all the pretty, petty things could ever be.

I have no use for those pretty things. Your tears of pain and lost innocence and deepest, purest love are all the sparkle I will ever need.