~¤~INSINUATING IMITATIONS ~¤~
When he took you into the garden,
Under the spreading beech.
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New pastiches added February 2002 | |
Indulging your shadowy whims,
With passion he plucked your shrieks
Warning: These verses include explicit innuendo that may offend. This page is age/content rated under Safe Surf.
Proposals for Beating a Submissive
Undress
your insinuating
Imitations to find the index
~¤~Bound Up~¤~
---------
after D.H. Lawrence
I lingered, many years, tightly restrained
Knotted within the body, he entwined;
Rough cord around me, thus my sleep contained
Keen imaginings kept me close confined.
*
Pale limbs linked tightly with the siselled string,
What matter rope burns 'gainst such pale skin,
Bound closely to him, injuries don't sting,
Since he tied up the meaning of my sin.
~¤~Under the spreading beech~¤~
After S Kunitz
When he took you into the garden,
Under the spreading beech.
Indulging your shadowy whims,
With passion he plucked your shrieks
When your pleasure points were found
Palpitating beneath the skin,
Ravaged by him for a week,
Glowing bodies together bound.
*
What makes his engine grow?
Desire, desire, desire.
*
Outdoors he could not help smiling
Observing your bent limbs
He pulled you to the ground,
He knelt to hear your trilling
Pressed to earth with a scream,
About to burst as lust abounds;
*
What makes his engine go?
Desire, desire, desire.
*
So let him batter at you
Squeezing your nether cheeks,
Making your body so ache,
Do you ever remember who
Caused your being to creak,
And had all that it takes?
*
What makes his engine go?
Desire, desire, desire.
*
When he took you into the garden,
Under the spreading beech.
Undress
your insinuating
Imitations to find the index
~¤~After a beating~¤~
----------
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 endured,
A tamed possession,
Yet there was being in those saline
effusions, eluding him.
Pushing fluidly across the surface,
where could tears surge,
glistening down your shining cheek,
like fresh marks on flanks.
*
To whom do you offer coursing tears?
To the stranger,
who once misunderstood you,
To the owner,
By whom you cleverly discovered,
To the Master,
who willingly bound and collared you,
To the residual pain,
which promptly and blissfully vanished,
Into the silence of being,
Overwelming you and transporting you
To submissive space.
~¤~Light on the breeze~¤~
----------
based loosely on a song - "The partisan" by Leonard Cohen
You can drink it, you can nurse it,
Doesn't matter how you worship,
As long as you are right,
Down on your knees;
Before your Master, can you ask for,
Glinting servile in the dark for,
Hinting brightly, so well marked for
On the breeze.
*
Should you skitter helta skelter,
Show the haven of your delta,
Moistening like the river,
And the seas;
Like the treasure come from heaven,
For something like forever,
You were healed, and your heart,
Was well at ease.
*
You can be weak and formless,
Yet you're sleeping in your harness,
And the wind is going wild,
In the trees;
And it's not exactly prison,
For you'll always be forgiven,
Whatever you have done,
Was done to please.
*
When it's dark and it is snowing,
Oh sweet pet you must be knowing,
The river bed is starting,
Now to freeze;
There'll be no more pretending,
You were broken, now you're mending,
Excelling in your purpose,
To be his.
Dance for your Master oh so playful,
Your behaviour quite disgraceful,
Nearly naked certainly,
Since you're a tease;
Shall we determine punishment,
Keep submissive pets content,
So you come again with love,
Light on the breeze.
~¤~Proposals for Beating a Submissive~¤~
----------
After John Clare
Leashed and steady he can wrench,
The hidden girl 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,
Licking thoughts to 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.
*
By 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 at 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 holes and nooks;
He could enrich his woodland witch,
Rebellion he'll not brook.
*
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 J 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.
~¤~ Cross his lap~¤~
---------
Pointer Sisters
Stilling swaying thighs,
She kneels close by
A lazy turn of her legs;
She saw he observed,
Gazing firmly at her
As she'd sit up and beg;
Breathing comes ragged,
Since she's already gagged
The pet cannot defy,
The glint in his eye
Offering her flanks
For a tattoo of spanks...
Cross his lap
*
She needs a chastising hand,
And an owner's harsh touches,
She needs a Master's command,
Falling into his clutches,
She needs dominant man,
In her covert submission,
She needs a firm hand.
*
Under a shadowy gaze,
her green eyes will glaze,
As stiff punishment's done;
Pushing her in the race,
To secretive sub space,
Pleasures fountain as one;
From each wicked tease,
That secretly please
The pet can't move a limb,
She is held close by him
And as she is bared,
Her flesh is prepared
She needs it so harsh
For as long as it lasts...
Cross his lap
*
She needs a chastising hand,
And an owner's harsh touches,
She needs a Master's command,
Falling into his clutches,
She needs dominant man,
In her covert submission,
She needs a firm hand.
~¤~Tears and Salt~¤~
---------------
After May Sarton
Consider the uncollared salt:
In her damp tears it disappears.
It has no self. It knows no fault.
No control makes it atone.
No power may gather it to own
Dissolving presence everywhere.
*
But, out of water in harsh air,
It will reform into a presence,
Precise, exact, tangible, here.
Faultless pure and crystalline,
Submitting to Mastery defined
Channelled by his very essence.
*
Division healed by dichotomy,
Disolve with each suspenseful call,
Wearing the collar and still free,
How can she be subsumed to lust,
Unless her Master is fair and just,
Tasting saline tears that offer all?
*
Surrender to moist transformations,
Observe subtle crafted designs
Let self flow to pure sensation.
Bounds dissolved, never imprisoned,
Accept commands without derision,
Let precious crystals be refined.
*
The symbiosis of close attachment
Comes with acceptance of every fault,
Without intensity or enrichment.
Emotive love achieves this swiftly;
Other constructs build less quickly,
As they possess both tears and salt.
~¤~ The top~¤~
With apologies to Cole Porter
You're the top
You're the one in charge, Sir
You're the boss
You are this pet's Master
*
You're the top
Let me wear your collar,
Whip me hard,
Make me really holler,
*
With your box of tricks Sir,
You can take your pick Sir,
Make me squeal with your steel
You really know
How you make me feel
*
You're the top,
You so empower
I submit
You can make me flower
*
I will dance your dance
Take your teasing chance
As you mesmerize, shock and surprise
With every taunt
That you can devise
*
For
*
You're the top,
You are the possessor
You are more
And I am less, Sir,
*
You control me
Yes, you own me,
You can lend
Or you can loan me
*
You're my all
Without you I'm not, Sir
I'm your tool
Let the rest rot, Sir
*
Just remember
There's no contender
For I'm your bottom
And you Sir...Are the top!
~¤~Packaged need~¤~
---------------
After Robert Frost
Legs could be tied, yet she'd rest quite content
Taut cord to tease her well spread, silken thighs,
A stickiness brings dew-like recompense,
The pretty package, Master has devised;
Supported on the central pole she craved,
Its pinnacle lodged firmly in her cleft
The sliding shaft stole her sweet breath away
As surely as withdrawal leaves her bereft;
Absence brings an all-encompassing need,
Precludes acceptance of her present station,
She seeks a true release not to be freed,
Still connected to penetrating inspiration.
In the saucy capriciousness of a feverish pet,
Thoughts of further bondage leave her exceeding wet.