Archives for category: BDSM Poets

gentle comes the whispers before the wanton
when of virgin silt is plucked diamonds
though they be as melted sighs

the agony of wet when drying, burns the soul
when insatiability at thy brim strums sinful
and you prey to satan to bring healing

there are places in this new day you admire
that will squat your belly into ruins
and leave you with fever hands dancing

it is well within your urges then, it is heathen
and I am but the harvester of your liquid
that wrings my hands around your throat

before that whisper of “please” is even uttered

You are my life,
even in strife.

I look to you oh Lord and Master,
as my heart beats faster.

The earth is spinning,
but we are winning.

The battle of love lost,
at any cost.

We will be together,
eternally forever.

The face you make when you smoke
Make me choke, cause I make you squirt
Dressed as a Maid, but who serves who?
Made to Order, made to cross the line and break the border
Made to fit, born to break
Make haste and lick fast

Am I a poet or song writer?
Are you my lover or my fighter?
Why am I bleeding again?

Tegan Quin’s lip inflection
The fact you got no infection
Safe for that blood injection
Bite me bitch, make the incision
Bite me up for your dissection

Am I loved or am I loathed?
Ask again, we’ll not be betrothed.
Divorce before the alter
I’m the auteur
You’re my genre
I know your in’s and outs.

At each others throats
We smile
We can’t breathe for quite a while
Why am I bleeding again?

Can’t walk
Can’t stalk
Can’t talk
To whisper to my prey
Oh lord why do you hate the gay?
Is it because we play
With electric crucifix?

Fuck me
Fill me
Close to kill me
All the things that get us off
Such a long list
But it makes sense
When I’ve felt your fist
I’d had you up to my wrist

Won’t bend
Won’t break
Don’t you do dare fake
Break anything but my heart!

…Why am I bleeding again?

It was cold in the shadows of your life.
No sun on your face
You went unnoticed
Your pain hidden behind the smile

I am the one with all the strength
The one unnamed for so long
The one with everything
You’d hoped, I would be

Your pain may go unseen
But not by me
I know the truth
Your not alive without me.

Coarse skin
Too thin
Cheekbones too visible

Neck too cold to kiss
Is it too soon to dismiss
This one off chance to one night stand?

‘Don’t touch my breast’
I skip her chest
We both miss out on her request

Her navel
Will I be able?
To lick past her waist

I’m losing attraction
I regret my flirtatious transaction
She’s different, maybe too much?

Here’s my option
Do I pick retention?
Will she will find redemption?

Long hair, left still
Soft and gentle
Am I sentimental?
Or eye to eye with a clitoris?

It’s crunch time
It’s lunch time
Its lick her cunt a bunch time
Do I stay or do I go now?
I got all the know how
But do I care to go down there and waste away beneath her waist?

One flick, two ticks
Forgive her misgivings
Cause she tastes like dyke.

First steps…
I don’t remember my own first steps, of course. But I have children and grandchildren and I remember most of theirs. It is a time when a young body starts to learn to be balanced enough and a young mind is brave enough to step forth into the world around them. It is a little miracle on its own each and every time and for each and every person.

I took my first step in this lifestyle when a supervisor in the next department set her eye on a young, damaged vet who could not hold a job, a relationship, or even his/my own sobriety. Looking back, it was every bit the miracle any other first step is. But like many first steps, I fell flat on my face.

That next step…
The first step is taken when balance and bravery come together. The next steps after require purpose and determination, and the ability to keep going when you fall down.

I fell hard after I found out how seriously mentally ill she was. Now I thrive on being with a good masochist, but a truly masochistic soul can be a danger to themselves and others. I ended up taking her into the ER at 3 in the morning; me in my shorts only and covered with blood as I held her in my arms (this was long before 911 was available); her, barely conscious with towels wrapped around her wrists where she cut herself. I was just taking my next steps when I fell. Years went by as I lay there, afraid to get up and try again.

Another step…
I remember one of my granddaughters. She started to walk, fell down a couple times, and decided to quit trying. Until one day her mother brought home a kitten. It was cute, pure white, full of energy, beautiful, and just what my granddaughter needed, something to chase after. She took off like she had been walking for years. She just needed to have a reason to move on.

I walked, step by step, through the years in a vanilla world. Those times were good for me, as a man. I was able to work, went to college, married, had a family, and more. But my Dominance was on the ground and afraid to get up and try again. Until I woke up one day and the cute (and submissive) little kitten was right in front of me. I chased that kitten for 15 years. But like my granddaughter and her kitten, it was just a game and not anything real. I wanted it to be, real that is, and I’m sure she did too. But we were both not ready for reality; our realities were our families (we were both married, but not to each other) and to our own lives. It was fun, it was incredible, but when we tried to make the transition from “toddler” to “young adults,” we failed. It was no one’s fault, it was just the way it was and was meant to be.

Stepping stones…
I’ve seen my child and grandchildren step forth and head off into the world around them: into school, into friends, into relationships, into families, and so much more. And as they stepped forth they sometimes made mistakes that hurt them dearly.

I stepped up her front walk on a cold winter’s day. We met on Fet and I stopped to take her to lunch – a snow storm hit and I ended up spending the night. I walked up those steps many times over the next few months. And then I stepped out of my car one day, walked across those same stepping stones, opened the day and walked in, suitcase in hand. We lived together for less than a year. It was a mistake, mostly on my part. I chose to treat her as a woman I was in love with, rather than a sub. She did not, and never did, want me as her Dom. And in the end she did not want me as her lover. I stepped across these stones and, like a teenager, made simple but serious mistakes.

Steps to manhood…
I watched my daughter get on a plane and go off to college. I watched my son get in his car and drive off to a far away job. In both cases I was afraid, but excited at the same time. My daughter is now married and has children of her own. My son is still single, and making his own mistakes, but has a good and steady job with a fine future. They are adults and doing good.

I met her on Fet as well. We flirted, as I am prone to do. I drove up to her office building, parked my car and stepped out. She was wearing a long, furry, white coat; I was dressed, again as I am prone to do, in a long, black, leather coat that went from my neck to my ankles. I took that step thinking to myself, “She’ll never have anything to do with me, not her.” My mistakes were in the past but that past was all I knew. ‘She’ was of the same mind thinking to meet and play and love (sex) but nothing more. But for the both of us, our own ‘steps’ in our own lives led us together at a time when we were both ready, willing, experienced, and needing to take what would come next.

Stepping forth together…
My daughter walks down the street, holding her husband’s hand with children in tow between them. They are happy, committed, and full of the future in all its possibilities.

I step up and reach for her hand, as a man in love, as her friend, as her lover, as her companion and help-mate, and as her Lord. It has been a long time coming, for me and for her, and we are both ready to take each new step that life brings us, as long as we can take those steps together.

My next steps are with you My darling slave gunnora.
What wonders we have seen in our lives? Children? Grandchildren? Relationships that failed? Loves and lovers that are now gone and lost to us? Until that day we stepped up to each other, reached out to each other, and turned to face the world together.

Will you take the next step with Me darling?

Lets play a game
He nods

I am a woman you do not know
Eyebrow raised

Just wipe me out of your mind
Another eyebrow raised (thats two)

I am going to get naked
BIg smile

no no no not like that
Smile gone, eyebrows down

Remember you don’t know me
Cold eyes on naked woman he does not know

(slipping on only my stilettos)
I want you big boy no matter the cost
Crooked grin

I am serious
Eyes sparkle, grin gone

So anyway, I want you and plan to have you
Small sigh (I ignore)

My name is Candy (I gyrate)
Laughter bursts forth (I blush)

I am going to give you a lap dance big boy
Spreads his legs

damnit do you have to be so eager?
Closes legs
Snorts and bursts out laughing, bending over with loud hee haa laughing

(I tap my stilettos, try keep a frustrated face. Can’t. Fits of laughter)
We end up on the floor laughing so hard, one of us snorts and we burst out laughing again

He fucks me with my legs wrapped around my head and stilettos clicking with each thrust.

And he says

Thank you Candy

I sigh, well that was a failure!

I think.