Be Mine

The quill pricks your skin, and red blends with the blue ink. You gasp and shudder, but you can't break your bindings. You can't free yourself from the linen gag tied tight, cutting into the corners of your mouth and chafing at your beard. No one would be able to hear you down here anyway, and once I'm done, it won't matter.

I continue writing and watch the ink seep into your skin. I watch as the words become a part of you, of what you are and always will be from this point on.

Because now, you are mine.