Oh King. Foolish King. Does your heart race, when you draw your sword, when you know the fight is on? Do your palms sweat on the hilt, fingers clammy and burning? Do you breathe harder as your stare your enemy down, glare into their flaming eyes? Does your gut clench with butterflies as you tighten your grip, relax your stance? Oh King. Does your cock twitch with that first spark of excitement as your finally make the first move?
Does it thrill you, heat your blood?
It does. I know it does. I feel it through you, through the rain in your heart. It lands like drop of electricity on my face. I feel it in the steadiness of your soul, through the thrumming excitement that drums it's great fingers inside me. I feel it like all consuming hunger.
That's the feeling I mean, King. That's the need I'm talking about. That core instinct. That devouring compulsion.
That sadistic, masochistic pleasure as you swing your sword, hack into your enemy, smelling sweat and grit and metal as gore splashes across your face. That pleasure as you watch their face contort in pain, when you watch them lock up in panicked defense, when they turn tail and run in desperation, in fear of you.
Did you think you didn't like it, that sadism, masochism? Did you think I was crazy, when I told you to revel in it? Look how much stronger you are, when you let it in. Sink in it, King. Feel it inside you and let it well up and burst. Let it pound in your veins with each thump thump thump of your heart. Don't bother trying to stop it. Just let it brew.
Because when you do, I'm so much closer. I'm so much nearer to the surface. I guide your wild actions into elegance. I am in the distortion of your voice, in the black yellow glinting shine of your eyes. I am so much nearer that I taste the blood in the air, I feel the tug of injuries. I am not your heart, I am your shadow. I am your need need need. Revel in it King, let it in, deeper, deeper still, until I seep through to your marrow until we are no longer distinguishable. Let me in, in, in.
Let me feel your heart thudding in the palm of my hand. Let me give you that sadistic, masochistic pleasure, King.
I promise it'll be pleasure like you'll never know again.