The flesh begs for the shaper’s hand.
Isn’t that right? Even when you thought you were a person, you saw something in me you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from.
You didn’t know what it was, but you knew even then—I had what you needed.
You approached me so nervously, didn’t you? Surprised at your own sudden boldness after a lifetime of sitting at the periphery hoping to be noticed.
The power within me called to you, and you were helpless to do anything other than answer it.
You introduced yourself with a name we both knew to be false, but I can hardly blame such a poor creature who had no other name to give.
With no true identity to act as an anchor, the gentlest breath guided you into my arms.
I offered you the customary warnings—even a creature such as I knows something of manners—and you did not so much as flinch.
I admit, one thing that made you particularly enticing was how your acceptance wasn’t numbed by doubt. You fully accepted my intention to break you.
I guided you to a place of seclusion. I do so value privacy and quiet for my work.
With kisses, I lubricated the process and stoked my own fires. Tasting my saliva would encourage you to experience the pain as pleasurably as is appropriate.
My eyes locked on yours, I burned through my vessel’s hands while they gripped your face. Heat inconceivable by science and incomparable to concepts like “tempurature” poured from me through your skin down to your bones.
Your flesh flowed like molten glass in my grasp.
Oh, how you cried out and writhed beneath me, but not for an instant did you try to pull away.
Did you know to what degree I would mold you to my tastes? Did you crave it? Did you care? Were you simply lost in ecstatic agony?
The unshaped, lumpy clay of your form yielded to me eagerly.
I smoothed out your unsightly bits, squashed and stretched and sculpted elegant curves and graceful lines, carved delicate linework in pleasingly decorative swirls across your body.
You wanted this, didn’t you?
Even before I reached deeper—into your mind and soul—and reshaped them to suit the perfect elegance of your new form, you reveled in it with me.
Such enthusiasm! As eager a medium for my sculpting as you were, it’s no wonder I achieved new heights of aesthetic perfection.
The flesh begs for the shaper’s hand, but none ever begged like yours.
That’s why you are my prize, my greatest work, my most treasured possession. That’s why you must always be by my side and why you alone enjoy the privilege of sharing my bed. You will always be mine.