The rope burns as I'm released, running across my shoulders and leaving welts. The twisted lines mark my limbs where jute once pressed & blood returns.
Reality returns, or I return to it, freed from bliss to think again.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers ~ Kinky microfiction ~ ongoing
Short StoryTiny tasters of sensual, kinky, and strange tales for you to enjoy. If you like the way I weave words please do *follow* for more... If you fancy trying your hand at the prompts yourself, please feel free to play in the comments! (Play nice.) Origin...
