Before The Pleasure

Before the pleasure
there is consent whispered
to the wrong voice.There is heat that doesn't soothe-
it threatens.

There is the body learning how to ache
without asking to be spared.

Before the pleasure
there is restraint tightened until it bruises, discipline mistaken for holiness, obedience rehearsed like a seduction.

Mouths stop just short of ruin. Hands hover, trembling-
not from fear, but from knowing what will be unleashed
once they land.

Before the pleasure there is control pressed against the throat of desire, and chaos grinding its teeth,
waiting for permission to bite.

There is a girl who confuses numbness for power,
who burns herself quiet just to feel something sharp enough
to count.

There is a boy who has mastered command
but never surrender, who mistakes dominance
for safety, and discipline for love.

Before the pleasure
there is ritual: the inhale, the hesitation, the lie that this is still optional.

Because once it begins-it won't feel like falling.

It will feel like being claimed by the thing that's been watching you the entire time.

And the pleasure?

The pleasure comes later.

After the damage. After the confession. After you realize
you were never in control-only prepared.