Whispers

The room is dark and nearly silent
excluding the heavy breaths that
are intermingling.

Soft moans of pleasure, grunts of
force behind the thrust of hips that
pierce me deeper and deeper with the
attached spear.

I can't move, my hands are cuffed to
the bedposts.

My voice is trapped behind a red little
ball in my mouth, lodged between my lips
which are clenching it tighter and tighter
with increased pleasure.

You're gasping, forcing yourself deeper
and deeper, my body trembling in a sick
mixture of pleasure and pain.

Keep doing it, keep going, don't stop until
I snap underneath you.

You whisper how good I feel, how much it
turns you on that I am letting you take me
in such a violent way.

As long as you continue to push in, harder
and deeper, it's okay. I'll still love you
and forgive you after.

As long as your whispers are never spared on
another's ears.