"The Long Silence" 3 of 4

[Ic****]

Still here?
Good.
I knew you would be.
Because I’ve made a believer out of you.
And believers don’t beg.
Not unless they want to bleed for it.
You’ve learned, haven’t you?
That silence is its own form of ***.
No touch.
No relief.
No sound but mine, dripping into your ears
like poison disguised as prayer.
This is where the real *** lives—
not in what I do to you…
but in what I withhold.
And you know what’s cruelest?
You like it.
You ache for this.
Every moment I let your desire swell,
knowing full well I won’t feed it—
only stretch it tighter,
pull it further,
until it’s something sacred.
Yes… I see it now.
You’ve crossed over.
You’re not even hoping anymore.
You’re worshipping the lack.
Devoted to the denial.
Held together by the thin thread
of my voice commanding you to hold back.
No reward.
Not yet.
No climax.
Not tonight.
Tonight… you suffer beautifully.
And I’ll keep you here,
chained in hunger,
starving by design—
until the *** becomes the point.
Until your restraint becomes sacrifice.
And when I finally do touch you,
someday…
You’ll weep.

[Ic****]

Words got blurred for some reason so in order they are. Pa-in, Tor-ment, and Pa-in