Saturday, 9 March 2013

Violence

He has his hand between my legs and excites me with our violent fantasies. He murmurs into the side of my neck...

"I'd drop you to the floor. I'd kick you in the ribs. The satisfaction of kicking somewhere so firm. I wouldn't be able to help myself. I'd keep kicking and kicking while you desperately try to crawl away. I'd smash my foot in again, the crack of bone against fluffy supple lung. I'd listen to you choke and gasp for air and watch pink frothy spit ooze from your lips. Your eyes would stare at me in wild, open terror. I wouldn't help you. I wouldn't even care about you".

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