Sunday, February 1, 2009
Caged
Sometimes, I don't mind being behind these bars; there is a stillness, a calm, a sense of security and peace. No one will enter my cage, nor harm me; this is "my" place. I am partially clothed, partially exposed; a little bit of exposure became necessary as I am increasingly claustrophobic in my cage; some disrobing was imperative. Do you see the moisture around my mouth? Do you hear the noises my stomach makes? If I am not fed soon I don't know what will happen. I see my food; it stares in at me through the bars, an intense and piercing stare that causes my cunt to salivate in unison with my mouth. Yes, my cunt needs food too, I know it does; my orifices are screaming to be fed, regularly and intensely.....screaming. It is because I feel this desperation creeping up that I am concerned; afraid of becoming panicky and acting foolishly out of pure hunger instead of slowing for contemplation. This cage is perhaps becoming a burden, causing me to grow weak; there is nothing in here that I find appetizing and this is sad to me as my preference would be to stay within, my safety and security remaining intact and my hunger being sated.
He looks in at me, through the bars, those eyes reaching into my soul....all I want to do is run to him; let him feed me......oh god I am starving!
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and... who would happen to have the key to this cage ?
ReplyDeleteyou'd have to kill me first...
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