Just a poem I wrote.
Moon burning it's way through the darkness,
Leaving it's stain upon the sweat coated body.
Cold metal cuffs made of affection,
Holding her hands above her head.
Eyes blinded by soft silk,
Held firmly over a lowered head.
With every step thudding in her ears,
A constant reminder of his presence.
Moments seem like hours,
A weeks worth as she is studied.
Scrutiny rolled over her,
She awaited his decision.
Calluses brush against tender skin,
A trail of caring and irritation.
Then it leaves her flesh,
A wanton need for his touch filling her.
Sinewy fingers wrap around her throat,
Squeezing in a throbbing lust of their own.
A whisper of love and adoration,
Hidden in harshness and dominance.
Too few knew the trust and caring,
Going into every moment,
Every delicious scene.
She was his,
Power freely given.
He knew the responsibility,
The pleasure of being in control.
She too knew the power,
The power to let go.
She gasped in release,
Sweet breath flowing into her burning lungs.
She wasn't even aware she'd held her breath.
Each second after his hand pulled away a lifetime,
She began to wonder if she would ever get his attention once more,
The snap of a flog against skin,
Shred any illusion of being alone,
An instant later it was on her back,
But more beneath her flesh,
Trailing up her spine,
Encompassing her mind,
Pain,
Pleasure,
She wasn't sure where one began or ended,
A lifetime passed,
She lost count of how many times she was struck,
It was not her place to keep track anyway,
Simply reveling.
Sometimes her body would cry out,
But it was reflex,
Her mind was barely there when the flog was put away,
The sensation of a riding crop,
Slapping the underside of each ass cheek,
Trailing the cool texture over the hot flesh,
Up her spine,
Into her mind,
She began to realize it was becoming a well worn path,
He was trying to overload her,
Send her to that place so many feared,
So many desired,
She had never been.
Subspace.
It went on forever,
The feel of weighted clamps on her nipples,
Of slaps upon her breasts,
The removal of all sensation,
Just to feel the subtle spikes of the pinwheel,
Caressing up her backbone,
Drawing over her body,
Until she wants to scream for more.
A shuddered breath,
Nothing felt the same,
Everything was distant,
Yet more intense,
Then it was complete,
She was only superficially aware,
The shackles were gone.
Her body laying prone.
Bright lights flash as the blindfold is removed,
Her body in hyper drive.
A cooing comforting noise,
His voice,
She heard no words,
But felt his hands upon her,
She was good,
Perfect,
He loved her.
These were things she understood,
Things beyond the words,
In the tone.
Slowly she fell deeper,
Enjoying the safety,
The comfort,
The dominance,
Of being Loved,
Of being Dominated,
Of truly Submitting.
