_A Peasant's Plea to Queen Bonkers_
Oh, Bonbi, you're pulling me against your body. I feel my bones breaking. My back' s bent backwards until it snaps. My neck's tied to my heels . You're shaping my body to fit your needs. You're singing "Hard times..." to yourself, soothing me, as you inspect the package you've made of my body. I'm inert. I'm yours. I'll do anything for your. I don't exist outside the perimeters of your needs . My body doesn't exist until it's violated by your body. I'm unable, unwilling to move, become conscious of myself, without your direction. When your hands aren't on me, I don't feel anything. When you fuck me, burying me in the bed, I use your skin to define where I end. My skin's rubber. When you rake me, the lacerations you leave behind don't bleed. My heart's soft for you. When you suck my eyes, you can taste how I see you, Bonners. I need you to seal me in, so I won't think, and lock me away. You're pulling me into you. I'm gorged, sinking into your belly. I don't feel myself when I'm inside you. I need you to order my time, my movements, my mind. I don't feel anything unless you feel it for me. When you claw me, when you penetrate me, when you open up, I feed on your pleasure. I'm empty inside you.