Hate me for understanding your need; under me, there are no excuses to hide behind, no doubts to hold you back, no fears to blind you. My belief will sustain you. My faith will guide you. My acceptance will free you.
Hate me for using your own body against you. My hands will learn the language of your cries. My lips and teeth will coerce secrets from your tender skin. I will be relentless, plying you open until your entire body betrays you, allowing you to enjoy the sweet indignities found in complete capitulation.
Hate me for having no mercy; my desire to watch you slip over the edge is matched only by my sense of cruelty; the delicate balance that keeps you helplessly teetering at the cusp is just the beginning, for I will see you fall again and again until I am satisfied you have suffered enough.
Hate me for making you remember; hate me for reminding you of all those feelings you had worked so hard to bury; hate me for awakening a need you thought was no longer there.
Hate me for not backing down; I will call your bluff and accept your challenge; I will have you on your knees before you have time to reconsider your ill-advised defiance; my judgment will be swift, if not severe, and you will taste me in each reminder I've left upon your skin.
But hate me most for the ending, when I brush away the tears and tell you the dream is over.