Kneeling before Him...
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Monday, January 12, 2004
I was raised as a good girl. I know my manners. I know how to speak to others politely. I sit with my knees pressed primly together and I try not to fidget. I don't speak out of turn and I never interrupt. And I don't swear.
My father would never allow it. There were things that should never come from a lady's lips and if I used those words, his frown of disappointment would scar my very soul. There were times through high school that I would say the naughty words with my friends, but as I grew into adulthood they disappeared because I had no use for them. Friends of mine will tell you now that I never swear.
They are such wicked words for a good girl to say. There is something so openly decadent about these words that thrills me. The way that they sound, the way they are thrown from the mouth, the power that they yield. Grown men shy away from them, little children giggle at the shock in their parents faces and women avert their eyes and blush.
'You are my slut' He says and I grin at Him.
'You are my whore' and I giggle in delight.
'I want to fuck you' and my cunt clenches with lust.
'Bitch' and I want nothing more than to feel His cock fill me.
These words make me want to rejoice in who I am, in who I want to be. These words make me want to indulge in my sexuality, delight in decadence, and be truly wanton in my cravings.
And I spend a lot of time hiding it from the world and sometimes I even hide it from Mac. There is still the desire to be the good girl and it is a hard desire to overcome.
So she kneels demurely at His feet, shielding herself from the lust that she feels. The calmness she shows Him, the peace she is filled with touches a place deep inside Him that very few ever reach. He watches her a moment and allows Himself to feel the beauty that she holds.
'What is it you want, little one?' He asks her with tenderness and care.
She swallows hard and looks at Him, determined not to let Him see.
'I don't know.' She whispers quietly and she quickly looks back down.
He pauses just a moment. 'Then I will give you a minute to think.'
She looks at Him again, almost hurt at His determination to make her say the things that she doesn't want to say.
The silence between them stretches and against her every wish she sees the things she craves happening in her imagination and she wants to scream at Him the things she feels and wants to yell at Him the things that she desires.
She lowers her eyes and she stays silent. Her mind gives her the words she will not speak.
'I want You to drag me by the hair to the bedroom and toss me onto the bed. I want You to force me to my hands and knees so that my cunt is Yours to take. I want You to run Your cock along my slit and feel my heat wet the head. I want You to push inside my cunt and feel it open for You. I want You to fuck me. I want You to fuck me harder and I want You to fuck me deeper. I want You to make me cry out with the power of Your body. I want You to see Your cock enter me. I want You to see it leave me covered in my cunt juices. I want You to feel me tighten for You. I want You to fuck me harder still. I want You to feel Your balls tighten, feel Your cock throb and I want You to feel the semen drawn out of You, pulled from Your balls by my cunt. I want You to feel my love. I want You to feel my desire to please You. I want You to take Your pleasure in me.'
She startles herself with her desperate need, her ache that she requires Him to fill and she knows she could never say those things to Him. Her eyes flicker with the hunger that gnaws at her from within. Her hands turn into fists at her sides as her control slips.
She digs her nails into her palms and the pain helps her regain composure and she shields herself once more. She wonders if He saw, if He recognised the lust she tried so desperately to hide.
'What is it you want?' He asks again, and she knows that He will not be denied an answer.
'Permission' she says without raising her eyes and suddenly He understands what she needs. His hand tangles in her hair, forcing her head back so she has to meet His gaze.
'Tell Me how you wish to please me, slut.'
She gasps and all her defences slide away, flooded by a mixture of relief and desire. 'I want to please You with my cunt,' triumph in her voice. 'I want my cunt filled by Your cock.'
He is filled by the hunger in her eyes and the way that she has opened to Him. His cock throbs with the need to possess this wonderful creature before Him. He pulls her from the floor and into His arms.
'My slut,' He whispers as He gently kisses her lips. 'My whore.'
She grins at Him quietly and His hand tangles in her hair once more.