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

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

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

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

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?

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

tormented in the cell

tormented

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

held...

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

a view from within

http://superiordommes.com/freegallery/pages/IMG_1039%20copy.html

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

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'

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

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

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

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

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