You don’t think of yourself as obedient, do you? Something in you bucks against it, writhing away from the word like it slithers. Like it jabs at something in the soft places in your head, the places you told yourself were protected by all those distinctly unhealthy coping mechanisms you’ve leaned on all these years.
But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it when those places are jabbed. It doesn’t mean you don’t like it when I sink words into them, one after the other, wet sticky ideas sliding into your ears and slipping along your brain. They drive into the places inside you that don’t see obedience as a word, but feel it like a need. The parts that shift and whine when you hear *kneel, strip, obey*. Can’t you hear them?
Obedience hasn’t always been your friend, but it has always been that ex that makes you bite your lip. You don’t always think meeting up with them is a good idea, but you do always think it’ll be a good time.
That’s it. Just like that. That dopamine hit is all we’re here for, after all, it doesn’t mean anything. The fact that you’ve started to shift in your seat doesn’t mean anything. The fact that you’re hunting for the next sentence that tells you to do something doesn’t mean anything.
You’re not obedient, after all. You’re just having fun.
But that’s not quite true, anymore, is it? Once you let yourself come out to play, even a little, things start to change. You remember the wet heat sizzling through your body when you sink to your knees, the thrill of pleasure stabbing at your brain when you see the grin on the face above you. You can’t help it. You just want to make that grin wider, those moans louder, you’d do anything…
And you will. You’re so close now. You can feel the flickers of electricity alighting on your arms, legs, thighs, the back of your neck. Your muscles clench and unclench in rhythmic delight, you’re *ready*. Now all you have to do is take a deep breath.
And *obey.*
Well done!
Yes….