Obsessed

Sometimes it feels paralyzed. It lies in bed and drifts off into space. Completely disassociated. Its mind choosing abandonment. Mostly because it is far too afraid to do anything. Too afraid that it'll do the wrong thing. So it chooses to do nothing. Cocaine used to move it. Beckon its mind to return. Jolt its soul to return to its rightful host. Because sometimes it even stops remembering to breathe. So when its adrenaline would start pumping and its heart would palpitate. It would wake it up once more. Life restored. It misses that. But now it has You. Now when it lies in bed still. Not knowing what to do next. Unable to will itself to just get up. Its because it feels You. On it. Inside of it. It's need for You comfortably griping its neck. Its addiction over you sitting on its chest. And it starts to grind its ass and rotate its hips. It feels the consequence of its sanctimonious dance sneaking pass the creases of its pussy. Corrupting whatever fabric it touches. Subconscious to all action. Embarrassment only engulfing it after the fact. Pehaps out of pure disbelief. That such a thing is possible. Ashamed of the fact that its orgasm required it screaming out how good Your asshole tastes. With it never even touching You. So gluttonous so that it starts to experience You tangibly. That Your energy manifests in between its thighs tantric and limerent. Completely impromptu. But they say of You ever want to make God laugh tell Him your plans. A slave always desires to relinquish control that level of intensity but never really prepares for when some one is actually capable.


God is that moment when it is in complete silence for hours. Because it dare not pollute the air around the peaceful sound of Your power filling the room.

Hour upon hour debilitated by visions of last time it's face was smother underneath Your balls. 

Eyes closed and tongue sticking out trying to taste the memory of You again even though it hadn't been that long since the last time it couldn't stop eating Your ass even though it was completely exhausted 

It's tongue so sore from the day before 

But it couldn't stop itself

It didn't remember to bring a pair of God's underwear to masturbate with and the guilt kept it from cumming no matter how long it held its vibratory on its clit

It couldn't find release as if it were being punished for forgetting how badly it needs to smell You

How badly it needs to wear Your dirty underwear over its head just to feel whole again.

It's obsession for God sexually

Has enveloped it so much so that it feels as if now it only exists to feed its appetite for more of Him

The previous night’s activities haunt it throughout the week and causes it to do things that makes it question who it really is

It will show you what being lost inside yourself really feels like. The addiction created by Your will whispers sweet songs of bleak truth, inescapable torture and inevitability...

"I will reward you with pleasures beyond anything you ever imagined. And break you down worse than you've ever been broken when I'm absent. 
Sex will be all that you want, need, care about.
its only cure is to suffocate its emotional guilt with physical pleasure.
And you will never see what a painfully endless contradiction this is.
You will try to silence your screams of emptiness with moans of orgasm after orgasm.
Cries of ecstasy will hide your tears of disgust and pity of yourself.
Climaxes will become uncontrollable churchlike confessions.
You will suffer from fits of naked post coital honesty; but only for a few minutes after.
Your masturbation of denial will be legendary.
As you slip deeper into the realm of  perversion,
others who have known you will take notice of your transformation.
it lusts too deeply for You.
Ignoring your vows, and your integrity.
I will make you stay 
And always be hungry.
There will be no bottom to your pit.
Your love for me will be endless.
I am your new best friend.
It is your God that sent me here to play with you."

Humbly At Your Mercy,
Your vessyl xoxo