Oxygen
He is my everything. He gives me everything I need. I can feel him
everywhere. Even when he's away fighting fires. It destroys me a little
bit every day when I watch him walk out the door. Because I know that he
is going out to stare straight into the gates of hell.
But, as
long as he comes back to me, I can survive the anxiety. I look forward
to his return for more than just confirmation of his safety. It's
especially at those times that we give each other what we each crave.
Pain. Lustful, deviant, fulfilling pain. My masochistic submissive side
screams out for his sadistic domination.
However, there is
another voice in me, screaming for attention. I suppress that voice,
though. It has no place in our perfect dynamic. Because we are just
that. Perfect. As long as I have him, I have everything. He is the very
air I breathe...my oxygen.
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