Dirty souls

Eyes closed, lips parted, strangled breaths pulled in, mangled pleas forming on my tongue.

Your hands wrapped around my neck, pressing my collar into my skin, an indelible mark of ownership.

Your teeth, marking your passage down my shoulders onto the alabaster curves.

Your voice, low and deep, reassuring me you know what I am; a whore, a slut, a filthy little cum dumpster, yours, even the dirtiest, most shameless parts of me, I'm yours.

I need you; to hurt me, to decide when I breathe, to leave your mark on me, to let me be yours, all of me, right down to my dirty soul.