Saturday, November 13, 2010

twisted balance

my ears ring
what does anybody know?
my veins bulge from overuse
hidden beneath layers of cotton
my eyes swell with shapes that twist in infectious thought
like wildfires ripping through my dry forest

what did you do last night?
did you dream or do?
do you want or need?

my gyroscope still spins
keeping me upright
but the pull from many strands
wobble my day

Saturday, July 04, 2009

insignificance

like a gnat
you swat me away
i am a blind midge
wanting to be near you
sensing you
hovering your power
needing you
helpless to even the wake of your air
as you tornado through me
and leave me dizzy
your neutered toothless follower
only wanting permission to hover

Friday, September 05, 2008

por Lady A

cruelty comes so easy to you
i can tell
i can feel it wrapped around your consonants
tight like a noose that secures freedom to a fate of helplessness

and that you have a field of members of your cult
who learn to be meat on your rotisserie
as you brush sweet heat upon our glazed skin
and make us beg through gags
to the echo of your heels as they click away

heat driven from the constant state of arousal you enforce
an endless, merciless, ordeal that you require of those poor souls who become addicts
of your grace, and even distant interest in us
we, those that have been allowed membership in your lengthy stable
and the poorest of those
of which i am unfortunately one
affording only the smallest scraps of you
and somehow...they are even less merciful than those you attend to more frequently

is it service to suffer greatly?
to be so ravaged by the lust you force us to endure
so desperate that frustration is a breath of fresh air?
wondering if it will ever end?
knowing that please is hardly even a start

gratitude

you are a gift to the world
a clang to many a bell
that makes us rise to be tested
as tools of your will

i am now terrified of your resolve
that you are enforcing adherence
with such strictness
i am unable to fantasize about it ending
only that i must learn to live with this constant torture
my mind and body swelling, raw, sore, frustrated, desperate...in need of you
of your permission
such constant suffering
such intellect required to insist upon its continued execution
do you know what you are doing to me?
making me mush even in your absence
your will sweeping across my skin and thoughts
racking them into your net
and binding me in focused torment

thank you

Thursday, July 31, 2008

patience

arousal has little
for its purpose induces want for closure
crumbs before a starving man
grow into mirages of luscious comfort
but it is when hallucinations begin
that need takes on its truest nature
the torture that it is
the flower of want
morphing into wild weeds
that sprout through every orifice
and reach for what the body so desperately needs
attention
from the light that quenches its thirst
when, and if, it honors its subject

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

tonight

it has been three days since i came
that is unusual for this chronic master of his own masturbation
this is why i need a cruel Woman to take away my orgasms from me
i am way too reckless with them
i dont deserve them
when they are removed, then arousal is a slap in the face
it is something that happens upon your body
wanting its presumed inevitable release
only to be surprised each and every time by a reminder of its denial
a talisman of her doing
a whiff of a promise that she might offer her control of me
and if i were to cum tonight...i would feel that possibility less likely
because how good could a slave be that cannot control himself?
the problem is it makes the lust that much brighter
and my desire to obsess
to be forced to obsess
to be offered the singularity of purpose...arousal through the fixation of her
an aspect of her per day...fetish du jour
its idea sustains me through hours of stroking
on edge and dripping
ever so close...oh so many times
now that i have expressed it...how do i end it
in truth to the spirit of this confessional?
or the weakling that i am?

Monday, December 25, 2006

you left me

you created me
and then you left
me stroking like the pathetic being i am
hearing the echoes of your heels rattle
shaking me like a maracca
waking my balls to tingle and scream
waiting for your return

Friday, September 15, 2006

waiting nicely

not a word
as rain's film announces cars with bold splashes
the mere hint of you swarming my dendrites
with only my thought's ping pong
heart calling for the possibility
that fingers caress a cingular's node
just shy of the last number
that it might push ok

the clock passes away its smile
and i coddle the rejection
warming the distant place
where i am held

Friday, August 11, 2006

so truly

do i hang on silence

reading into its tension

its crinkled tea leaves winking

hallucinating flippant judgment from its purveyor

so falsely

does its meaning rain

and drench paper cloaks

that drip with memory's ink

staining each focused breath


who said innovation breads attention

how does it apply to the second string?

the benched fringe of anyone's need

i put faith that adoration yields scraps of allowance

but secretly wonder if it simply yields annoyance

Saturday, August 05, 2006

tormented by your own words

i thought of kneeling there on that rubber matt
penning index cards
in an elaborate game you play with me
i stroke as fuel
under strict orders never to release
one word per index card
from which i may conduct but one sentence
which you view from a webcam
if it amuses you...you visit me to reward me with pleasure
the granting of you watching me stroke
and letting me stare at your heels
leaving me with the number of words i may use in my next sentence
if it displeases or bores you...you visit to punish
a face slapping and a lecture
on how your time is valuable
and i must not waste it
with poor sentences
you are a cruel teacher
offering desperation and denial vs. strict psychological domination
regardless
left to contemplate each ordeal
in a long, prolonged, protracted, suffering
its only expression to accompany moans and whimpers
single sentences to allure pleasure

Saturday, July 08, 2006

to rot or not

the connection went down
and i left with silence to ponder
i swam to its far end
and turned backward
watching the ripples fade
as it caught up with me
till only my heart set its pressure outward
echoing among not even a leaf
for the dark cell
wishing for its owner
rang absent of an answer

scrapping crumbs of a faded past
where clicking heels led me in
to tantalizing hors dourves
eagerly dished out
in the palms of polished nails
only to be snatched away
snarling at the deep hunger
it shakes pointed fingers upon

'suffer yes
but complaints may be left in the corner
piling high
for you to relish
and feed from
because you are your own food
and I your tax'

'I will come for your tears
when time allows
till then you may pen
please for my eyes to see
and if they reek of pleasure for me
I might end your rot
or not'

Friday, June 30, 2006

words

you said
'you like words, I like touch'
au contraire
words are touch's memory
a torqued overture

you underestimate my insatiable appetite for lust
for want
for prolonged states of nothing else
but the strain of need
even if sorting through miles of syllables
pixels and syntax
yields only a moment to be an audience
to your charitable wickedness

how else does need blossom from a distance?
but by the prod of thought's sword
pricking a collection of points
with needling ideas
that sizzle libido to jump on its horse
and ride yonder toward its source

my feet dance among word mines
hardly avoiding their hot pointy edges
following a maze to your smile
a knowing smirk
that has seen it all so many times
the desperation
that has lured many by a mere curled finger
guiding its prey
toward the white of your fire

i would jump long after
the skill of your touch left its marks
replaying the ring of your voice's tone
the words like skeleton keys
still hanging around your neck
with my doors left wide open
creaking whimpers of want
of all i ever want
to suffer and remember it
and live in its afterbite

Thursday, June 22, 2006

abandonment

those of us that fixate
think it is all for us
that you speak to us in silent struts
for what is fixation
but unattended attention
upon the wake of your voice, or staccato imprints from pumped heels

abandonment
do you even utter the word to such distant admirers
arent we that read your pixeled expressions
left carcasas
feeding an endless last meal off your poignant ideas
bound and gagged in a cell would be a mere realization
of what hours of visiting silent images inflicts upon mind
are your taunting questions an invitations to your inventions?

oh how i flow to the dream
hearing distant cackles of laughter
sprinkled with the clicks of heels scattered about a long day
of kept time
of wanting
turning to need
rising up through my navel
reaching through the smallest crack of light
out to for your scent
wishing a lecture
from dismantling eyes
upon my helplessness
furthering its offer
what more suffering can i endure? i whimper
as you feed me larger helpings of monotony

interludes of punishements and strict talk
weave a long day's quilt
your visits punchy and sharp with correction
then long contemplation
alone
as i slip pleas in the form of prose
beneath the door of my cell
hoping the heel's brisk path
finds them and with forward arched back
and hand
lifts them to thine eyes

Sunday, June 11, 2006

House Music

the pulse moved hips and shoulders
driving smiles and flirtatious eyes
you could feel it rushing blood to organs

i stared at the floor
listening for the structure
waves of crescendos
making souls come even more alive

her fingers manipulated and caressed controls
which morphed bits into patterns she adored
and others adored her for
as hormone fed gyrations pumped life
into seeking eyes and luscious tongues
working through a hiearchy of protocol
cubs seeking mates
manes with beating chests
tummy's with winking navels

while ears suffer the delight of pressure
leaving their ringing mark
glowing for days

it was all research
but i loved the heels

Thursday, June 01, 2006

quiet radiance

my stare lingers past the point of a glance
and short moments later you notice
you are not typically what lures
but i always look deeper
and wonder what you are like when you cum
are you a screamer?
that is always a benchmark for me
does she scream when she orgasms
what would make her scream
hours of oral?
her own masturbation?
while i am tied at the foot of her bed?

i deserve none of these rituals
nor the privelage of being in their presence
yet...when in the anonymity of my mind
i watch and wonder
and seek what my inuition can deduce from a stare

and then there is that moment when you notice
the burn from an iris
the male peer
that by habit is brushed off
ignored
and yet it in that moment
the way it is handled
that shows the degree of need
hardly a split second
it is sometimes revealed...
a want...a confidence...a need...a dominance
a blush...a submissiveness...
till composure grasps
and purpose dictates
and i revisit my food
as to not turn into a creep


Wednesday, May 17, 2006

after

Oh my god
my entire body speaks
"Yes Mistress"
my torso flapping its gums
its limbs
its attached grey matter
which seeps through my
ears and forhead no longer speaking with its apendages
it drips with sorry
for being too pathetic
yet it climbs its nation's pole
to the very top of a scream
thank you to your generous aim
for your invention's grace
and torque
as the memories rush
through corpusles
remembering the turning
the slow tight spin of
me on the spigot
amongst your absent mercy

how did i get so lucky?
to drip out of myself
at the puddle you
point to as my transgression
you ordered not to
i weep inside into it
yielding to your might
its reach and Shibari grip
so unyielding
even as it teeters
and sways to the
finese of your use
i yield to its endless
force
and seep into the wake of
you...into the dream
you set me sail
upon the ship's ride
into the darkness of unending need

before

the sound of the cage
blinds my ear's mumbles
it rattles and brings on a flood
that washes away desperate sweaty words
that screatch through pores

im in the cell of your will
im the fly in your blue
papered o the bite of
the words you dig into me

im in the cell of your will
im in the cell of this pill
i ramble on so despeately
the D-ring imprints its memory
Oh I am so grateful for Thou
letting me see the i of me

i am a wack
hardly a speck
i cant feel the limbs of a predicate
i am a ship
riding your storm
Your delectable fingers raking me born
your targeting tongue shoots words
that pierce my delicate mind

i am less than the air you used
to make me a mime

Oh why cant i muster a flow
why cant my mumbles be grown
im less than a fallen hair
washed away with a stare
why cant i cling to an amusement for you?

im pounding inside
the paint drips along
as you sip at my brain
a bland grey saute, hardly of taste

where is my me?
left inside my shoe?
my fixations are real
yet they give me no clue
will i be able to read
this scribble to you?
what's left of my thoughts?
the weight of my place
takes me away like
tomorrows fate

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Grce

was the link a tease?
an empty tickle to my libido
an itch left to gnaw

or am i simply a tchatchki for your menagerie
another trophy from the sea of want you create
an aching swollen need that occupies an occasional afterthought
in the business of teasing - so many dangling particples

i would rather crawl up the ladder of your words
as occasional as they might be
and reach the twinkle that made you even look
and try as desperately as my feeble reach can muster
to touch it as a reminder of the echoes
of frustrated moans that fail to reach your ears
kept in the cold cellar of unattended memories

even if silence is the answer i am grateful for whatever its motivation

Saturday, March 25, 2006

ymy

his muffled pleas
squeeked out of corners and bounced from ceiling
whispering smiles in her ears

their wide eyed glee
of different dna
cook a tense bliss
and yield a certain stillness over his wiggle

as her hands work the contraptions of predicament
helpless sighs and storms
want overtakes resignation

she applies another

her will plays out its game
his ache
a backdrop of overtones to her staccato
he only has his eyes to blink
morse code
that his body screams to convey
but she is concentrating
'poor baby' she thinks but does not utter
his eyes roll
as she taps the center of his ache
with a determined crop
she towers over his moments
each tap ratcheting need in different directions
please stop, please more

she stands in his cockpit
navigating beyond the day

silence

silence speaks sirens
of bottled roars
of whimpering eyes
and frustrated sores
feeble dendrites
finding the next of nothing
swim in a wanting soup
spiced with distant sighting

moist

those resting thighs
across a knee, ending in heels
suck my windand weaken vertabre
like a star's beam
i feel desperation filling my sail
and guiding me
where gravity meets cold tile
and my cheek upon it
as low as it can be
lets eyes strain upward
sat their glorious length
my breath whispers a moist 'thank you'


ly

like a genie from the noisy chatter
you enter my frame
the whispers bubble inside me
and i try to calm them to be cordial
you know what i want
but it grows too tall
i cry in the palm of your hand
of wanting wantof pursed need
of stripped cover from your luminance
as it bakes me
please let me crawl into forgotten crevices

darkened with cruel mind inventions
leave me to utter memes of desperation
grasping at the sonic carrots of your day
i think i know how you do this to me

i wish to experience the why of it
the ache of what is not nextthe stillness of waiting
whimpering in the experience of intent
how can youhow can you nothow would you

how will you notwhy, when, how...gibberish comes so easily
yet there is so much more to say

covered

through shivers and daisies
and bikini line woes
the bright leaves are upon her
as she rests before the snow
lying atop of 8 seasons of zines

the curves of their covers
caress her fine lines
he walks in poses around her

as she giggles inside
her sterness above him
like pulling strings of a mime
he hangs all about

with candle in mouth
his birthday suit needy
of her dry cleaning eyes
he hums her a tune

mumbled through candle wax mouth
and kneels right above her
to feel the wind from her blow
the room is now dark

carbon fills the air
and the zines stick to her body
like an aching old year

csty2

i can almost hear the water dripping off your golden skin
left reined pants trickle out like smoke rings
my eyes rolling inside my dream
snow filled with your remnants
my muse
i wonder if you can see it in your stride
their bold reach and soft touch
i wonder if the rhythm of your heels
pitter-patter pitter-patter
reveals your heat
beating tear ducts dry
and calling on hearts to nub skin
nuba nuba
nuba nuba
but it is your mind's playground
that hijacks will
and sets it between your clamps
each dizzying ride
a pulse, screams of no...yes...no
but wants of more
the word P L E A S E has no reference
and wallows in forehead sweat
how can ache show such cause
brother 'need' loses the floor
only because of
whimper and fray
does desperation find its polish
for want without its keeper
is a dead weed that finds no other day

csty

grazing at scented air
that swept across your stern smile
leaving behind raised eyebrows
and weighted eyesheavied by lure
and swept by your trail
i can hear the razor's glide

upon what i may not seeor even know beyond
a tantalized day
for want wither
sin only slivers of your light
what has your day before you

that i may knowas food for my thoughts
a relish of other's gazes

dressing your auraand lifting your cheeks
in an interesting smirk
let me at least dream of it

glide mind up and down your itinerary
weeping in its crinkles
worn soft from my dire attention

ay

you must know by now
of the refine of your finess
when hours swell in my eyes
and my windshield is blury from need
ive clarity of why'cause because is enough
with a smile or notto send lungs as sails afoot
taking in the you of you
the whiff of your thoughts

my head battles with gravity
wanting to be left on the ground
i cant because you said no
and i need nothing else
but the food of your letters
strung around my balls
that ache and want

as the hours ween
i feel like an object
whose only thoughts are whimpers
im starting to feel like that monkey
pushing pleasure buttons that turn to torment
at 5:30am so long after your departure
how i wish you were here to let me beg
for an earlier nitebut now in your absence
i must wait until i seethe sun wink at my pathetic
desires left..alone and without

on 20375

you'd think it were the gloves
where i would starta slow trail
i gasp and exhale slowly though

realizing the curve in your wrist's shadow
silhouettes speak loud whispers
of the grace of its owner
i wonder if the bookanswers what pursed lips hide

and that angled gaze
of who enjoys its intent
i nearly cry at where those legs must go

and climb my eyes up the arch of an unshy backbut of course it is those gloves
that bow my headto you, who allow such a peak
at the secrets of kink

a snipet...

the many that surround your day and peer into the night of you...you collect them like stray bottles from the sea of attention you walk in

giggles as you walk by, dragging your nails upon the wooden door of my mind...a reverberating passing...hardly a blip in your stride...yet an endless echo...as you pounce upon the entirety of your day...spiking your will, scoring upon soul after soul...striking with simply a glance...and wit...and a little flesh

the whimpering cries are pathetic at your site...especially mine...shameful...and thus kept at a distant quiet behind muffled lust...a deep beneath

that slim waist winking above guiding legs and your will moving it swiftly...flesh coming along for the ride...such a surge to those eyes distant upon you...as speed like a slap in the face, leaves glimpses blotched upon the grey matter brief seconds attached themselves to

there's never enough of that sight...that air taking view of what is casual to you...and taunting to me...to the 'us' of 'them'...'please may i see more'...i whisper indulgently to myself, shut down into the darkness of fading last images...rejuvinating themselves with active thoughts morphing into auto-erotica.

what she might say...

tonight you are closed
you are shutdown
you are to sit there and think
contemplate your situation
recognize that moments will come and go
and you will be sitting there

you will not be able to move
not through bonds
but by not having the will
because i have overcome yours
and my words will be your action

the thought occurs to you over and over
the words speaking for themselves
speaking again and again to your inner ear
looping, teaching your muscles what they shall do
until i deem it necessary to change

robots dont feel, otherwise you would be one
no, you will suffer as you posture for me
there will many forms...standing in a corner
naked
for 30 minutes
before being allowed to lie face down on the carpet for another 15
and to lie spread eagle on your bed , for 10
and to sit at the table with your arms in the air for 5
and to take a cold shower for 1 minute

so helpless to please me

if i were to write a song...

I wanna funk
break back and sliver on down
that
funky road
that we all need
from time to sign
our fun minds
behind the grind of an all night shiver
simmer me and let me dive into your funk
im a punky junky slinky
wigglin to the 1
and sometimes the 3
but bring me in to the dance of your eyes
i wanna know, i wanna bring it on, bring it to the afternoon's breeze over my old black broken down palace of a transport
can you see me boogie, can you hear it without words
the reach
the grabing for straws
a floor filled with shoe crunching misses
yet i still spin to your pulse
uu uu uu uu uu
hear it, boom boom
boom wham
boom wham

Jaded

i peered today into the pixeled eyes

i peeked behind their twinkle

and saw intent snatch my helplessness

right out of the bag came my cowering self

realizing her eminating will

and my mind sets off on its races

speeding through conjured images spewed from words between commas

swimming in deep kink suey

swallowing it whole till i am a fossil

a shell to wind's bullying

locked away to ponder my fresh demise

gagged for sweet whimpers

crawling underneath the closet door

and finding itself a whisper

dancing around your ears

till the clicks of your heels

drown them out...and take you away

Friday, January 27, 2006

D A Y - E I G H T E E N !!!

SHE and mozart
i made it
i can't believe i did
i am crawling out of my pants
hyper excitement mixed with misery
my delight touching the peak of the mountain you pointed to

i was sent
over there
to get atop of suffering's hat
aching and panting
the air thin and weak
my heart pumps a heavy mantra
my balls ache for relief

how trite i am
reduced to puppy dog eyes
pathetic male energy
with my tin cup out for mercy

i await final commands
an end to a phase
pledged fully beyond the milestone
yet eager for this one's end

i thank you for bringing me here

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

DAY'O 17...daylight come an me wanna go cum...

i cant believe i made it
well i still have to make it through this evening
but as much teasing and denial i have endured in my time
this was surely the one that caused the most discipline
blurry eyed aching
and many sleepless nights

even now i am moving my legs back in forth
involuntarily
rubbing myself
many odd ways have been invented these past days
and i lose my breath contemplating any degree of their detail

i have involuntarily rubbed my nipples walking down stairs
sitting in a chair
like an aroused zombie i have humped a walls corner
woken from deep REM to catch a wet dream's dream before it was too late

ive submitted to my fears
and succumbed to my helpless lust and induced service
my whimpers have become trite
and gagged by resignation
i crawl to the will of my captor
pleading for release
wound tightly
a spring cocked with dire need
please...oh please...oh please

d-d-d-d-d-day 16

i awake
heart racing from pre-mature sleep
my involuntary humping
leaving me like in a cold sweat

my cock points
and directs my walking
i sit and write

my insides are on its mouse wheel
i am what i am told
nothing more
ive been rinsed of will by will

can lust do all this?
set a course for eating oneself inside out
dry dripping want
reaching for light

it does seem now
that the closet is
a whimper's only refuge

Monday, January 23, 2006

day 15

i am afraid to stroke now
three days left
it rises now with its own mind
i ignore it
it whispers...pssst...psssst
i ignore it
the ache is an accepted reality
what am i to do

i think of the helplessness
the lack of choice
the matter that has a governess outside myself
the focal point being the suffering itself
the 'taking on' of it all
the succumbing to task
bare to the cold chill of next
and the empty hours of 'no'
i of course lust
but it becomes about power
the transference of animal want to the etching of a piano roll
playing the notes of her composition
being played, keys baren of my fingers
as i watch
just as others might
my dissonance rarely resolving
empty of will
time summing up my chromatic scale
even my whimpers swallowed by black keys
i dangle from the faint pull of strings


Sunday, January 22, 2006

days 12,13, & 14...of abstinence

abstinence

sometimes the only choice
a ripe tomato about to fall from its vine
i am a walking piece of swollen meat
my eyes wander up legs
and my ears twitch to staccato struts

ive swallowed my need to bare the time
becoming a slave to normalcy
a submissive is always in service to something
invented games
mind tricks
and those precious and honored times of a Woman's will

kneeling within the frame of your construction
i have found for three days
a hiding place of abstinence
desperation, an achieved goal, set on my mind's mantle
peering into my ache
as i live with it

my face turns bright red
past each whiff of wind from any female with prowess
i am sure they see right through me
i dream of service
to aid in the mitigation of my suffering
given to focus on things even as tantalizing as her will
yet selfless as all service must be

it is a desperate race to the line you have drawn
and i through the pledge of submission
am crawling as fast as i can
all thoughts yielding the puzzle of 'no'
resolution to fate
configuring time in order to make it
enduring till i am there
the threshold given to me
as kneeler to your throne

even this contemplation
as seemingly worthy as i attempt it to be
runs blood to shake my breath
and make me quiver with want
and dizzy with choices that lead nowhere

i am captivated by your mind
and the tension of acknowledged distance
submission to the grace of your pointed finger
seclusion from its view
i rest happily yet tortured by its inventions

the lure of a Female laundry list of creative chaos
a blueprint inflicted upon me
i run like a mouse upon its its white lines
racing to absorb each and every consonant
taste each vowel
as they are dropped inside my box

i am starved for more
as slow as it comes
intoxicated by its density
just wanting what is next
it is my only reward

Thursday, January 19, 2006

day ELEVEN

i basically collapsed last nite
pure exhaustion
lengthy dreams of tensions released
i awoke refreshed
smiling
happy
till i showered
and noticed
that i was hard
and the ache set in
and the recognition of denial
and i rubbed a bit
and whimpered as my balls filled up
even beyond their capacity
buldging now
and i wanted release more than ever before
i stopped just short of orgasm
but i leaked a tiny bit
i held it back
with my head tilted back
my hair still wet from the shower
i breathed deeply
resigning to my unfortunate fate
i swallowed my reality
put on my underwear
tried to calm my pitched tent
and went on with my day

now i sit here...and it rises again
as i write
but it knows
there is only so much it can do
i sigh

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

...day 10...

after a sorry mistake
a prolonged ordeal
another sleepless night
too worked up from corrected transgression

i mustered the day...with yawns and caffeine
the bags under my eyes holding sharp memories
of shivering bones and helpless moans

i hope my apologies and acts of suffering
rest like bon bons at the reach of your painted nails
to caress and scratch aimlessly
my distant purrs evaporating before they hit your ears

i can hardly see
now that i am at the end of a very very long day
and in my mind's eye
i remember your harsh words
and the deserved shudders
milk white vision trauma

all this and my balls ache too
closet time held me
contained and rung out what i yearn for most
in the most inappropriate time
but that is what slavehood truly is
doing what you are told
whenever you are told
and leaving the puddle of your tears
as emblems of suffering

tonight, i stroked a little
mostly while writing this
remembering the text of your voice
and afraid of the edge
i must now, walk away
to wallow in my predicament
so grateful again and again
whimpering...
expression beyond gasps
and the gags of distance

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Day 9 Brrrrrrrrr

on only 2 and a half hours of sleep
i made it through a very long day
only to find you eager to have me suffer more

last night's 5 minutes was torturous
both because i got so aroused so quickly
and because i had to stop
and you sent me to bed

i wanted to stroke all day today
got wrapped up in my work
but often escaped with the reminder of my ache
an ache that is really now very hard to control or ignore

it has been 9 days of arousal, torment, and denial for me
and while i want to cum so badly...the thought of pleasing you with more suffering drives me further

tonight i am shivering to temperature torment
which you brought to a new level
my mind shadowed by undeveloped REM
my skin pimpled with a goose's smile
each moment i dont know what is in store for me
and sleep deprived and frustrated i can hardly cognate the possibilities

all this and i am so ever grateful
and wanting to stroke
and show you how i lust
stroke and show you my need
and let you toy with my gasps for relief
with the known resolve that knows no end

Monday, January 16, 2006

Day 8

a busy day
up at 6am
stroked for about 20 minutes
the ache filling me quickly
my cock swelling and rising slowly
creeping awake
not accepting fast stroking
but pinches and squeezes
aroused terribly but not really hard
almost like it was fed up
but it doesnt take long before it loses its resolve
and stretches to its fullest
waki waki
it proudly erects
i'm COCK it seems to say
and i let out a moan
and then that cold realization
that this will not end well
and i let out a whimper
and realize it is time to go

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Day 7

it has been 7 days now
i have expressed the inner rumblings of my psychology
and professed my fixations upon you who rule me
i like to get completely wound up in the rule box you lay out
i know it is easy for you, and that you are busy, and that i probably yearn for abuse when a conversation might be more appropriate

but i wake up now...so horny from the days of arousal, the days of no arousal, and the 5 minutes you allowed me yesterday
and well, i walk down the stairs touching my nipples
i see a commercial on tv or an flash ad on the internet and i let out a quiet moan
all i want to do is stroke
and be that animal you lock away as you have so easily described

i dont know how to apologize for it...i wish i knew the perfect balance of when to speak
and when to wish for you to point your finger

i stroked for an hour this morning...fit it in
knelt with some vaseline, closed my eyes, and wished you had ordered me to
the first 5 minutes were impossible
because the days of cum that have built up screamed for release
the next 10 minutes i got under control
and started to fantasize
its just what i do
dream of ways to be controlled
and kept in this state of utter arousal without end
the more i do it, the more i want it
it is a vicious cycle, and such a cliche

ive been afraid i am getting boring
and when i fantasize i feel that i am getting pushy
what kind of servant/mashochist/onanist male pervert am i, if i dont submit to whatever your will is
my insatiable need for arousal, and my enforced denial till the 26th
is license i suppose to indulge to keep my momentum of frustration alive
yet it seeks from
structure
the rubics cube of your mind
to tell it its next steps

i loved the objectification the other day
yet missed the direct arousal
i love the titrated sleep
yet panic sometimes
yet love when that panic is abused
i love this assignment
yet whimper in its silence
yet love its distance
yet yearn for more

i am a walking set of contradictions
when you heat me up
i reduce to a low male pervert like a sauce becoming more potent with its true essence

the next half an hour i whimpered terribly
used my fingertips at times to maintain a close to the edge arousal state
ive trained myself to suffer that way
staying right on the edge for hours
that is what i wish so deeply to be for you
a whimpering pathetic frustrated being...simply revealing his rawest form of need

while i have stroked for many hours on end...even over night
if truth be told, i have not witheld release, often due to accidents, for as long as currently prescribed
and thus i am torn for how much arousal i should engage in, in order to pace myself

my balls ache terribly...i shower carefully
but they fill me with grand dreams of captivity
and more stroking
and desires to still be amusing for you
so that i may continue to have glimpses of your wit
intellect, cruelty, arousing aura...and mostly your control

i am very grateful

Saturday, January 14, 2006

Day 6

the timbre of my days
echo 6
and bugle unheard cries
but the sea that carries the weight of ache
drifts away from its shore
dragged further away than arrival's expectation

and figments of imagined smiles enjoyed
by you and the hims of your daylight
and your night
fall sharply upon my naked face
chilled by the air of cold cold quiet
as i soak like damp wool
reeking of want

i walk head tilted
cause the eyes of women notice
they can peer through me
and see the lust dripping like tears
i avert out of respect

and head to blog
and stroke to each futile end
and search as instructed
for non-moving, yet difficult legs to endure
just because
you had asked

Day 5

having missed an evening of you
i've tossed and turned
like a night fritter
sizzling in a sleepless haze

having been such an object
strokeless for almost two nights
i rub and the jeanie of ache smiles and winks
i am whimpering even in whispers
leasning forward towards your photo
knowing the weekend brings your silence
im not sure panic is too soft a word

i am in heighted state of suffering now
brought on by soft breezes upon my nipples
quick turns that squeeze my jeans
and finger tips that involuntarily meet touchpoints
like a nymph left on shore

W H I M P E R