Chasing the Muse

She thought it was over
Her face was covered in cum  
But what she didn’t know
Is that it had only begun  
 
She was pushed onto her back  
But she had to keep her eyes shut
The hot mess was in her face  
Then her legs were lifted up
 
His weight fell on her
Again and again  
“You like that, bitch?”
His face was red
 
She was lost in the moment
Some pain, mostly pleasure  
She wanted to get struck
With a hot piece of leather  
 
“Hit me,” she said  
He held back a little
“Hit me you, fuck!”
It was sharp, she was brittle
 
She yelled, transformed
She was losing her senses  
Then she could feel him begin  
To release his tension
 
“Not yet,” she demanded
But it was too late
The second explosion  
Sealed his fate
 
She tried to do herself
But it wasn’t enough  
She needed him  
But he was done being rough  
 
“Oh well,” she thought
Somewhat defeated  
“I already came more than him.
“That’s what I needed.”
 
After the cum had dried
And all dropped out  
They laid there quiet  
Thinking of the damage they had dealt
 
It was their first time together  
It was raw and rough
But now she would have to go home
And play it off
 
All the way home
She wanted more  
She wonder if she could get them both
To treat her like a whore  
 
An object, a tool  
Nothing of value
She did not know why she liked it  
But she liked losing power
 
To be controlled and used
Had become her muse  
She wanted them both  
To unleash their abuse  
 
It never worked
One felt betrayed, the other didn’t care
So she continued to search for multiple men at one time
To pull on her hair  
 
To fill her up
Leave her wounded  
To forget her past  
And her problems that ensued