I can’t stop thinking about what I want to do to you. I need to see your body, to smell your pussy, to taste your ass. These thoughts of you in my head are almost impossible to express in words. I need to paint you in the most beautiful watercolor painting in order to have a hope of expressing myself. I need to paint the pain and the pleasure I want to give to you. I must illustrate my need to possess you, to use you, to make you mine. Words are not enough. I am obsessed with you.
Eloquence is needed. If all I have are words then you deserve to be wrapped in the soft red velvet of my speech. The prose of a great writer is required in order to justly describe the power of our sexual transaction. What made us like this? I derive pleasure from your insatiable need to be abused by me in order for you to be fulfilled. Were you spanked too much as a child? Were you not spanked enough? Either way, I will help.
Dirty Slut. Take off your clothes and bend over on your knees. I ache to see the taut curve of your ass cheeks surrounding the gentle pout of your pussy lips that begin to protrude just below your quivering asshole. Within me exists an irrepressible urge to give you punishment matched only by your irrepressible urge to receive it. I love you, yet hiding behind these walls in the dark of night I wish to cause you humiliation. Still, it is difficult to shame someone who wants and enjoys what I do to you.
My erection comes and fades. The tip of my penis drips with precum. I am absorbed in my work. It is more involved than a simple pursuit of orgasm. Strike after strike. Spank after spank. I need to see your ass turn warm and red from my efforts. Each cheek exhibits the unique marking patterns of my fingers as they make contact just so. I live for the bounce of your flesh, the sharp intake of your breath, the flinching in anticipation, and your cries of pain that correspond to the harshness of each blow. But most of all, I live to see what I can get away with. Clearly, your sloppy wet pussy is egging me on. Am I even sadist enough for you?
Upside down now. Head off the bed. Your favorite way to suck my cock. Helpless, unable to recoil from my thrusts. Choke on it, cock whore. Take the whole thing down your throat. Is this learned behavior? Have you conformed to a gender role? Or does every human crave to be so humiliated? Do I find more pleasure from ramming my cock down your throat than I do ramming it up your ass? I certainly find pleasure from abasing you, stripping from you all semblance of dignity in every new way I can imagine. But I also find that my imagination does not always even keep up with your own.
Gape. We both love that word, and both fantasize about the humongous toys we want to shove up your ass. Each time we talk about training your asshole it is impossible for me not to worry a bit about the long term effects of our reckless abuse of your body. But it doesn’t stop us. Life stops us. There is never enough time, never enough privacy, never enough babysitters. We go through our sexual progressions, each foray leading us deep into the BDSM wilderness. Each time we have come up short of the prize: stretching your asshole so much that it will gape wide open. More fingers, you tell me, so I can take a bigger toy. A toy that we have yet to even buy.
Put on makeup for me; so I can make it run when you cry. Put on lingerie for me; so I can enjoy your body as I break it. Call me Sir. Beg for my cock. Inflate my ego. Take my cum inside you, cum dumpster, and then clean yourself out from my sight. Unless, today, I want to watch my seed ooze from your fucked asshole and run between your pussy lips and down your leg. Turn me into your perfect sadist.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/70luc4/the_perfect_sadist_mc_mf_bdsm
Nice work!