It’s a sad day for me as a pain slut phone sex whore.
I have no marks, no signs of my love of pain on me.
I am a blank canvas ready to be turned into art.
Take your tools and carve a masterpiece on my pale and smooth skin.
Give me the red, yellow, purple, green of bruises from your straps, paddles, crops, and canes.
Mark me with your teeth, hands, lips. Show others that I belong to only you.
Break my skin with your whips and tails, abuse me like the pain slut phone sex whore I am.
Brand me with fire and leave me scarred with your own designs.
Run the violet wand over my body and make me sizzle, shake, and shiver with the sting of electricity
Cut me with your knives, carve your name into my flesh and mark me so others know that I am yours.
Do with me anything that you wish knowing that I’m your little pain slut phone sex whore. Just save me from this hell. Turn me from a canvas into art in only the way that you can. For in this plain shell I am nothing, but within pain I become exquisite.
Erin
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2 comments
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