Posts about Temptation

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My love affair with the knife

12th August 2007
I pull up to the cliff and jump out of the car, leaving the ignition turned, the music blaring, the headlights on. Standing fairly apprehensively a few feet from the edge I feel Disaster’s eyes upon me. Fear can’t keep my flirtatious nature under wraps. Adrenaline makes me say and do things I would normally consider more carefully.

Hello, handsome. Such a naughty boy…

Blindly taunting him as I still can’t see him in the darkness beyond the headlights. Yet he already devours my whole being without touching. I respond enthused and almost involuntarily with gentle, swaying movements. He holds the power and he knows it when he feels the blood rush through me.

You want me, don’t you? I can tell…

Before I can finish my last thought, Disaster has a firm grip on me. I’m dangling a few inches off the ground, held at the throat by his big, strong, unmovable hand. I grip at his wrists feebly. Not to try and loosen his hold, no, that would be naive not to mention impossible. Just to try and hold my weight before he strangles me. But I fear we’re not alone. No. There. Beyond the darkness. Death is watching me. My constant companion. What a sweetheart, he’d never leave me alone in the grip of Disaster. He always makes sure to be available, in case I call for him. A true friend. I start to gag.

Baby… you’re hurting me…

He likes this, of course. And in my breathlessness I catch light dancing in the eyes of Desire and Lust out of the corners of my own. They clasp each others’ fingers tightly as they peer rather hungrily at me from behind a tree near the side of the car. They are sneaky and quiet but their presence never escapes me. Disaster is keenly aware of everything and everyone that’s gathered for me. But he wants me for himself. Always has.

Oh my god… that feels so fucking… goooood…

With one deft movement and just as my whites begin to show, he brings me to my knees, releasing his grip on my throat, allowing me to almost catch a gulp of air. I’m like an inconsequential rag doll at his mercy. Before I can blink his fingers are tangled in my hair and I’m half dangling off the sharp, ragged edge. Death gives a start but realising it’s not his turn, silently returns to lurking in the shadows. Violently, Disaster jerks my head to the side and positions a sharp blade uncomfortably near my earlobe. As my attention is in the grip of the looming precipice, he drives a deliciously bloody trail diagonally along my cheekbone, under my chin, finally coming to a painful stop in the tender skin of my bruised throat.

Fuck me, pleeeeeeease…

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Rendezvous in Stockholm

27th July 2007

Take me away, far far away with you. Sweep me away and off this plane involuntarily, sharply. Laugh as you watch me battle myself and give in and take back, take you aback, all the while knowing I won’t and I can’t because unknowingly willing prey simply doesn’t slip through your aching grasp.

Rip every shred of anything from me and hogtie me to your whims. Force me to kneel, to beg, to whisper, to squeal with sudden sick urges and self-hate. Thrust me blindfolded into the folds of your mind and let me languish with only your darkest nightmares for nourishment for days endless weeks turning to years and tears closing in around us in the dark, sweat-soaked air of our secret hideout.

Hate and resent me desperately for enabling the monster to materialise. Take your every aggression out on me in soft, languid caressing strokes of pain, fear, shame and guilt. Slam me down on the cold, wet concrete floor with the antipathy and anger you’ve buried deep your whole life, until now reserved only for yourself and the ghosts of your broken childhood. Allow it to come crashing through and batter break me down and shed more tears. Force-feed me your love in anguish and sorrow and distaste while you fuck me, invade me, lacerate my skin, tear me open and flesh me out.

Reach in to grab fistfuls of my insides, shred to a fine dust and inhale them with all your senses. And in the same breath spit me back out and trample me beneath your boot, levitating me higher and higher, higher still. Show me your unforgivable evil, unkind, cold-hearted instinctual nature and finally allow me to nibble on it tenderly between sobs. Neglect me for hours but always return to envelop me with full maddening force forever. Because forever at breakneck speed isn’t long at all.

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The Fickle Lover

18th July 2007

I’m as self-absorbed as to fall in love with my own words. For days, engrossed in the dark, I craft and hone a beautifully sick relationship in depth. I love and love and love and they respond in kind.

Often they glide right off my mind’s tongue. Gently, softly, deliberately. I sweetly smooth them… this way, that. I stroke their lovely little serifs. Wiggle my fingers into their curves until they shiver into place. Just. So.

Others anxiously gurgle out of me in fits and spurts and spasms, they are willful and decisive and I must ardently molest and defile and ultimately topple them. They reward me with an arousing fight. Until finally they submit.

I can be an impatient, pedantic lover. Pushing towards release without care. To relieve myself of them, get them sorted on their suffering way. Often it is just too early. I feel guilty and begin to resent them. Often it is just too early to tell.

I am the only one that has read them as much and for much and for long. But I soon relapse into my place as the fickle lover. When the next idea is splayed open across the screen for my use, I quickly abandon what is written past. Without giving it a second thought.

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