Studying you perfidious, pensive maiden who is so bound, so strung from star to star..........
..........and when you're clicked
you cry till all goblets in chateau pantries ring
and shake upon their shelves..........
........Forebear the note.
I am considerate where I beat.
How music's made must be to my conceit.
(after Dilys Laing)
Warning: These verses include explicit innuendo that may offend the more sensitive (or prurient). This page is age/content rated under Safe Surf.
............... |
Chastise | ....... | Count | ....... | Emancipation | |
| Exactly | Games | Guided | ||||
| If you | I might | Machinations | ||||
| Most | Proposals | Shadow | ||||
| She who is | Silken Ties | Since I might | ||||
| Sonnet | Studying | Submissive Growth | ||||
| When First | Wickedest Pet | Wishful Thinking | ||||
| More | More Pastiches | Enough |
Click the mermaid icon
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~¤~A SONNET~¤~
------------------------------
with apologies to Edmund Spencer
He calls you now to him, and you obey,
Bending to your man to feel his palm;
This part of your surrender makes his day,
Revealed virtues spread to your alarm.
Modesty fades so quick, bent on his lap,
Ideas pale with moans, converts your hue;
Turned to him, that round behind to slap
Pink to reddened crimson and squealing blue.
This may truly be beauty: you can confide,
To be your man's delight, suborned to him;
He knows the comfort of your warm backside
Smiling at perfect glory of writhing limbs.
If he must punish badness to explosively decant;
The stickiness in his trousers may not be quite elegant.
~¤~WHEN FIRST SHE KNELT~¤~
------------------------------
After Philip Larkin
Once she had knelt there by his chair,
How well he taught the early moves,
Fondles exquisite curves with care,
Perceives a child, beauty imbued,
How much did her submission owe
To the Master, she now loved?
The vision of her well marked flanks,
Revealing all her dreamy thoughts
Belonged to him, lavished and thanked;
But could he take her hard enough
To liquidate all hunger-strife
His collar making her his gift?
Lasting chastisement gives new wealth.
Submission manages to change
His whipping back to love itself ,
Those vicious hurts so craved, so strange?
No past, no future, just an impression,
Removing her present repression.
~¤~MACHINATIONS~¤~
------------------------------
after William Shakespeare
Dear chastened lady, rest across this lap,
Guard thy spirit through each forceful blow,
Raise thy dress, to better sense firm slaps,
As swiftly thou art surely bound to know.
Sharp reports resounding, pleading cries
The many shades of red - such pleasing hues,
Redouble handsome efforts as you surmise,
With thy velvet rucked, thou art excused.
Since peons underlie much true delight,
Let's praise the tanned vermilion of thy flesh,
Dictating how to shed silk scanties tight,
Draw panties down vertiginous limbs possessed.
~¤~THE MOST COMPLIANT ~¤~
--------------------------
after Rilke
Again he cupped your face in
his hands. A frail half-smile,
comprehensively absolved him
of your flowing tears.
Passive and docile, you quietly endured,
the way a tamed possession does.
And yet there was being in those saline
effusions, endlessly eluding him.
Pushing fluidly across the glowing surface,
where else could your tears surge,
coursing down your shining cheek,
glistening like the fresh marks on your flanks,
and to whom do you offer them?
To the stranger, who once misunderstood you,
to the owner, whom you cleverly discovered,
to the Master, who willingly bound you,
to the residual pain, which promptly vanished,
and to the blissful silence of being.
~¤~PROPOSALS~¤~
--------------------------------
After John Clare
Leashed and steady he can wrench,
The hidden pet from the grove,
Says to the wench, knelt by a bench:
"I'll learn you not to rove."
"Stick to teaching," she contests,
"'Tis I who's here to learn,
I'll not confess my naughtiness,
Though you my backside burn."
"Inside your mouth, your tongue is wise,
Lick thoughts into pure sauce;"
The wench derides in her disguise,
And stamps her feet, of course.
He won't allow these teasing traits,
Cures her with taunts quite clear,
She'll remonstrate, but its her fate,
Recalcitrance won't endear.
A mossy tree trunk, not too damp,
Will serve to rest her thighs;
He pulls her there, by that fine hair,
And bares her to the skies.
At his hands spindling birch twigs snap,
From them a switch he makes;
Sticky with sap, bared flanks he'll slap,
Bent over now, she shakes.
She turns restless after each strike,
Gazes back with fearful eyes,
It's his delight to whip flesh white,
Leaving red marks that surprise
She wants him now to drop his switch
To fill her heated nooks;
He could enrich his woodland witch,
As still amazed she looks
Eager her "learned" bottom lifts,
Whipped, welted and quite ready,
He'll not resist her dryad gift,
An offering leashed and steady.
~¤~SHE WHO IS OWNED~¤~
------------------------------
after John Keats
She who is owned dwells in her Master's care,
Kneeling attuned to ritual, not forgetting,
Before her Master, before his empty chair,
Controlled, possessed, well prepared for petting;
Once he beholds on her submissive face,
The misting of those eyes, pupils entranced,
He'll have the opportunity to chase
The fears that dissipate at his command;
As he subdues her feyness to his power,
Catching the faintest glimmer of mischief,
He takes her across his lap with relish dour,
Offers the firmest palm for her relief.
Be it with hand, hard brush or cruel strops,
By harsh determination, wickedness stops.
~¤~ IF YOU BELONGED~¤~
------------------------------
after William Wordsworth
If you belonged to him, you would be owned,
Collared to his guidance and constraint,
Sometimes made to shudder, you will moan,
Yet your desire's creation, you would remain.
Imagination surely breathes and stirs,
You know full well conjurings may deceive,
False Masters make demands that are perverse,
Finding little in submissives to perceive.
He may not fish to mentor you quite yet,
But reel him in and take away resentment,
Within a chosen dominance you'll submit,
And there you'll surely grow into contentment.
~¤~WELL GUIDED~¤~
------------------------------
after Elizabeth Barrett-Browning
My pet, thou knelt before me at this hour,
Smiling on that cushion, as the morn grew old;
And come noon, it seemed thou became quite bold,
In this close room, craving a warming shower.
So, in the like name of that control and power
I take back apologies thou wouldst unfold,
Laying across my lap, do as you're told,
And give thy thanks. A whipping will not sour,
I'll warm thy flanks lest ever they grow cold,
Yet hold chastisement; for here's a spank instead,
Here's a brush! -- take them, look not away and cower
There is no rush. Keep them as thy passion's fed.
Instruct parted thighs to blush a beauteous red,
And tell thy heart, that thou art well guided.
and sternest Master treasure,
these wicked machinations, wherein rests mutual pleasure.
~¤~CHASTISEMENT~¤~
------------------------------
after William Wordsworth
Chastisement comes to thee alone,
Despite emancipation
And for thy sins, wilt thou atone
Bend in anticipation.
A lordly hand will thy flanks well mark,
Undressed of silken garb,
His palm now stirs the air with sparks
Await each sharpened barb.
Across this desk, thy quarters raised
That well prepared thou straddles,
And one by one sins are erased
With whips,canes, hands, and paddles.
~¤~ EMANCIPATION~¤~
------------------------------
after William Wordsworth
Yes! Enslavement comes to thee alone,
Despite emancipation
Chained to need, love must atone,
Sigh in anticipation.
Thy velvet skin was quickly sloughed,
Undressed of silken threads,
Excitement stirs, thy furrow ploughed,
Upon these soft feather beds.
A pillow beneath, thy bottom raised
Thy lustful body taken,
And one by one chains are erased
As all thy joys awaken.
~¤~ THE SILKEN TIES~¤~
------------------------------
after Robert Frost
She is bound tightly now, by silken ties
At midday when her Master's soft caress,
Has dried the tears, anxieties relent,
Across his lap she loses her distress,
Feeling the heat of his erected pole,
That at its pinnacle is to heavenward
And signifies the sureness of his role,
Seems to owe naught to any silken cord,
But strictly owned by him, she's loosely bound
Countless silken ties make her flesh shrink,
He beats a blithe tattoo on buttocks round,
And only by the skin now slightly pink,
Does the capriciousness of squeals that endear
Makes servitude to the household pet quite clear.
~¤~WITHIN HIS SHADOW~¤~
------------------------------
after Guillaume Apollinaire
Those whispered pleas uttered in vain
Fade as he bends to dry your tears;
Must he teach you once again
That bitter joy joins with sweet pain?
You'll kneel gagged without a sound,
Upon his bed as you are bound.
Clasp hands together, he'll tie each wrist,
Controlling all your timid fears
The bridge is formed as stings persist,
Binding you to him. Will you resist?
Deprived by blindfold, yet spellbound
Raise your pleasing bottom round.
And with each strike, your passions flow,
A heady climax nears;
Insinuating strokes that you well know,
Follow time's beat which now falls slow.
Your shrill cries, silence confound,
Moans echo low, and sighs abound.
The night progresses; you may strain,
Orifices well filled, my dear;
Stilled by the tingling vibe's refrain
As he consoles your rear again.
~¤~THE COUNT IS WAN~¤~
------------------------------
after Xanadu - Tennison
In his chateau did count MiLord,
The cellar racks now bottle free,
In foaming haste the Marel flowed,
As up the stream, Milady stowed
the last cask of sweet Montrachet.
The cellarman quivering spake,
I saw them plotting by the lake,
Milady fled due west without a trace,
With larcenous vintner to serve her coterie,
The household pet keeps a secret of their place
How could they treat him thus so wickedly?
~¤~ TO SHOW THE GAME IS PLAYED~¤~
-------------------------
after WB Yeats
When she blinks her lashes thick
And hides her head in shame
Across his lap, cheeks bared to slap,
Punished once again --
With shudder after shudder,
Blushing embarassment displayed:
He's looking for that pretty pout
To show the game is played.
What vista on this woman
As though she were a child,
Chastising when the blood is up
Ignoring cries so wild?
Why should she think of him as harsh
With stinging blows relayed?
He'd have her love the thing she is
To show the game is played.
~¤~SINCE I MIGHT~¤~
------------------------------
after W Barnes
Since I might wish to hear your cries,
Your weeping and your moaning low,
I'll pull you down across my thighs,
And raise your skirt, determined, slow;
Your bared hips are moist, my dear,
Slick with anticipation,
As I correct your naughty rear,
You'll squeal in excitation.
Since I might wish to hike your slip,
Repentant shame will surely blush,
And when I strike it may well hurt,
Reddened cheeks, so nicely flush;
Below the cotton's wet, my dear,
Awaiting repetition,
And every blow, let me be clear,
Enhances erudition.
Since I hardly might be satisfied,
By your piping tremulous sounds,
Perhaps your panties red should slide,
To rest empty in the grounds;
Your naked flesh exposed, my dear,
A regal exposition,
And both flanks tremble now in fear,
As you shed inhibitions.
Since I might play upon your thighs,
With cane or paddle or stick,
Upon the table your choice lies,
Now go make Master's pick;
All will leave their mark, my dear,
And strike with keen precision.
Impatience won't assuage your rear
So make a swift decision.
~¤~EXACTLY~¤~
------------------
after Wendy Cope
It's bliss to let the Master in,
His fingers dipping on her mound -
He shows exactly how to sin.
He is an exact fit for sin -
The way he makes love on the ground -
She treasures little else but him.
He steals from her that eager grin,
Slapping her sweet flesh, pink and round -
She pleasures little else but him.
She wants the pressure on her skin -
Of manacles - their clicking sound,
He goes exactly there to sin.
The thought of whips makes her mind spin-
As Master comes, his fluid abounds -
She measures little else but him.
But is it submission? A mountain climbed?
Who cares? This much she has found:
In sopping moisture he'll unwind;
Her leisure's little else but him.
----------
After Dilys Laing
Studying you submissive, trembling woman
who is so bound, you're strung from star to star
and when you're whipped you cry till all goblets
in chateau pantries ring and shake upon their shelves.
Forehear the note, pet. I am considerate where I beat.
How music's made must be to my conceit.
---------------
After Dryden
Enamoured of the Master, she empowers him alone,
Submissive kneeling at his feet, he entertains her moans;
Securing her with ligatures, constraining and so tight,
He flogs her very well indeed, aware her pain is right.
Approving, keen and eager, he marks her tender flesh,
Her mound he stripes and she delights, certain he knows best.
The Master holds his pet in check, a chain to keep her near,
And what has been, has always been, his Mastery is clear.
-----------
After Vita Sackville-West
The wickedest pet with brightest eyes
Is want to tease long from afar.
Another's here, beneath different skies,
An evening with a different star.
Prowling around the aromatic hill,
Debating fiercely as they will
Unleashing her to feel the thrill
A pet to collar and bind her still;
And at his feet she'll wait and sigh:
She kneels for him, and she knows why.
She senses there a presence strange,
Where laughter springs eternal,
She knows she is allowed to range,
Through mundane tasks infernal.
The passion's controlled and not contrived,
The angst engendered, she imbibes,
Overtaken, harnessed, kept alive,
Devious plans will she devise;
If he is as wise as she is sage:
Love may endure this transient age.
Yet oh what naughtiness she propounds!
As she is brought across his lap,
Harsh breathing is the only sound
Until he deigns her rear to slap.
It comes from nowhere, and will sting
Hard, headstrong, heedless hand:
It is chastisement at command,
Raised up hips as feelings land,
Sluggish pleasure-pain she demands.
And such demands are well supplied,
Oh, wickedest pet with brightest eyes.
Offering up quiescent mouth,
never shunning jets that rouse,
In moist frenzy you carouse,
Viscous bubbles thus empower.
Halflight's submission will accept
Puissant flows that soon connect,
sluicing fluid - there it collects:
Liquid from his aestival tower.
Satisfy matutinal lusts,
spurting fervour keeps love just
Eager lips guarding your trust
Engorged virility is devoured.
So swallow and absorb that seed,
bestowed upon that craving need,
this tactile harbinger is freed:
Obliging at this cockcrow hour.
-------------
after John Donne
He can't believe his aim to be so right
As he struck out at malleable flesh my dear,
Certain, because it surely did delight
Perverse unreason made that very clear;
Should he have chosen more ingenious force
You were allowed to beg for more of course.
Such compunction might well cure all flesh,
Striking harshly at your very essence,
Mixing your shrill thanks and soft laments,
Which through your rolling anguish did impress;
Pain's not so pure to abstract all abuse,
Yet in such agony, you so enthuse;
And keen with such sincerity as you devise
Whatever instrument he uses to raise cries.
And with fiery sensation comes new pleasure,
Empowered raise your head as you atone,
The weals rise upon your firmament,
And fingers twixt your thighs you may well moan,
While in his playbox Master renews his search,
To finish you with root and bud of birch.
If, you dare stir from crouching on the floor
He'll chide and steal away from further vice,
Patience brings rewards others might abhor,
Who wince and find submission less than nice;
And though each instrument do add new heat,
You will, as well instructed, count each beat,
He taxes enduring flanks with every slap
You find submissive space across his lap.