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

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

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

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