Blissful Torment

I want to be yours forever, my Master. Mark me with your words, red and black ink on my white skin, a permanent and irrevocable oath of fealty. I want to be your possession, I want to give away my free will. Hurt me if I displease you. Barely acknowledge me if I please you. Lend me to your oligarch friends if I bore you, as if I was a book from your collection, nothing more. If I am but a slave, I will be happy. 

Command me to please others, tell me to charm and seduce them just for you, winning you favours and influence, then have me return on my knees and beg for forgiveness for having forsaken you and dared to pleasure another.

Use and abuse me in exchange for power, and record every transaction directly on my body, so the ledger of my life is always there to remind me and everyone of not who, but what I am: An object, my mind owned by the satanic inversions, marked by the beast.