i want to, but i can't: i'm embarrassed by the scale, ashamed of the magnitude of my own desire, of my own want.

humiliation sits in the pit of my stomach, it's small, tendrilous hand reaching up into my throat, the pads of its fingers ready to still the chords, to flatten my voice to a whisper.

"Is this what you want, what you've been waiting for?"

i nod, swallowing my tongue.

"Tell me."

"please," i eke out.

"Please what?"

i breathe in, out.

"please, let me touch You," i keen, my voice akin to a whine, high pitched but low volume.

"Ask for it."

"please, can i have Your cock? i need it." the words catch in my throat and i force them out anyway, sticky and wretched. part of me wants to cry. part of me thinks i must look and sound so stupid. part of me knows You want me stupid with need, though. that You want me to feel at my core what You are and what i am in relation to You.

the part of me that clings to dignity and the part of me that needs You desperately are gnashing their teeth at one another.

dignity resists. need surrenders.

don't give my dignity the option. make me beg for it. make me release my grasp on everything but Your attention. make me Yours. make me surrender.

make me.