I roam the streets, night by night. Eagerly waiting with fearfilled eyes. The way you hurt me is a sinful delite, the torture I crave when you're away. When you don't want me I'm so ashamed. I'm back to my safe place, way out of sight. Deep in the graveyard and out of the light. Now I'll sway in the wind with my eyes closed tight, and patiently wait for my master tonight. Headlights? I hide behind a headstone. Then he steps out and my blood runs cold. He staggers twards me and I bow my head, I smile and cry with hopeful dread. What will he do with his blade this time? How many times will I cream on his knife? His hand on my chin I raise to my feet, his lips against mine and my body goes weak, he catches me. A stinging pain in my neck again, I moaned and tiredly grabbed his hand. I opened my eyes to a fires crackle, cuffed to the truck while my feet are shackled. whisky and cigarettes overwhelm the fires scent, shirtless and drunk, he walks out of the tent. Six foot something, with the broadness to match. Something's wrong with my master, he seems so detached. My voice is shaking, my body's aching, I have to ask him before I'm gone.. I can feel myself slipping, so I ask him "what's wrong?" Pure confusion when I express my concern, the smile he hid was worth all the burns.. I know it's my fault, I spoke out of turn.. Then blackness.
When I wake up, I'm bloody and bruised. Warm and cozy in a dim-lit room. My hands uncuffed, Am I in my bed? No, the sheets aren't as rough.. The rooms not as bad.. I feel the movement before I see him, I turn and look and it's master's bed. Sleeping like the sweetest demon I'd evet met.. I run my fingers through his hair, kiss his lips, it's only fair. I can feel him wake. Scared and happy, I know I can take it. Wherever he hits me, however it feels. However much of my sex he steals. He put his hand to my face, I flinched and spasmed, He's kissing me back and it's too much to fathom. I hadn't noticed the wounds on my shoulders, bite marks and cuts, till he pulls me in closer. My body stings again, my clothes are beautifully painted red.. A different scent on the breathe of my devil, He seems to be on a whole new level. Not whiskey, no smoke, I try to find his Jack&Coke. I ask if he's sober, not a word, nor a sigh, just one hand runs up my thigh. The other entangled in my bedhead hair, My body's covered with the bleakest air. Still hot, not warm.. He takes a shot and I squirm. Fearful to ask why he needs to be drunk, I look in his eyes and he gives me a shrug.. Now that he's sober I ask him his name, slamming his drink, "You have to be tamed" ..