instructions

awake before dawn
searching for the list
her bullet point set of
instructions
the day cannot
begin
without that list
from him

scrolling through
reading each point
with her lips
not simply her mind
the weight of life
it’s thousand and one
responsibilities
suddenly
pared down into
the manageable mass
of a simple
sheet of paper
a recipe
for a perfect day

years of failed attempts
on memo pads
and fancy notebooks
all intended to simplify
but each
laughing, mocking, humiliating
her
between the lines of
failure and defeat

but with his
authority
a gift she had eagerly
bestowed
these lists created by
him
fill each moment with
a chance
to please
an assignment
to ace
an opportunity
to succeed

she smiles at #8
and reads them
again
then again
filled with the pleasure
of accepting
his will
and surrendering
her own
submitting to the
complete
control
and squirming beneath
the ache of it
obedience is as much
a drug
as power is

and she folds the list
deftly
slipping it sweetly
into her bra
and moves around her
morning
with the sweet kiss
and firm smack
of being loved
properly
by the only person
who’s ever truly
understood

then reciting #1

it’s always
number
one

remember that you are
beautiful
and that
you
are
mine

 

 

third

He guides me
my commander and
collaborator
coaxing the engine within
until it churns with the
mechanical velocity of
rage
fiercely generating a heat
that threatens to consume
not just me
but all of Us
His hands
slow mine
teaching, training
painful pleasure amplified
by anticipation

left to my own devices
my impatience
the reckless ache
of my need
might rip her to
pieces
but bound against my
eager exploration
He controls us both

His whispers in my ear
instructions
which somehow slow my blood
but roar through me
like a freight train
vibrations that pass
through us
both
and reverberate
out
like the hot
stinging
flush
on her body

pressed into her
by Him
filled to an
unimaginable depth
I find My Power
beneath the
forceful demanding presence of
His
and sandwiched
between
D and s
I explore the rich
intoxicating
fullness
of being
wanted by both

of being
the undefinable
third

Free

There is a dam
Within
I long to tear down
The wall
Mask
Persona
Holding back a river
Of tears
That want nothing
But to be free

When they
Overflow outside
Of the lonely
Privacy
Of the shower
Or my kitchen sink
In the wee hours
Before dawn
Or muffled in the
Sleepless
Darkness
Of my pillow

Their escape is met only by
Disappointment
Or
Consternation
Or
Trepidation
Or
Disgust.

I ache for a reason
Good enough
To let them flow
Pain that will strip me
Of the defense
That keeps them hidden
Surrender
Which might allow me
To actually feel
To fully feel

To openly feel

Please
Tie me up
Take my will
Tear me to pieces

Set my tears
Free

So that I may finally
Be me

Become

In the garden
Playing a game
Fits of giggles
Spill
From the charge
Of joy
Felt only upon
Letting go

A childlike freedom
Born only from
Innocence
Or
Surrender
But in the latter
It is a
Metamorphosis
Known by few
Yet
Held sacred
By those who do

In your garden
As my laugh rings
In the air
Until
I am
Cocooned
Within your grasp

I change

I emerge

I become

Painted Hearts

paintedhearts

Pressing into my skin
Like painted hearts
Kisses making promises

For a tomorrow
Filled with Technicolor
Moments from a dream

The soft lips I know
Better than my own
Peppering me in love

No fantasy needed,
Only the simplicity
Of two bodies merging

My submission a mere
Reflection in this window
Looking out upon the future

Tingling gooseflesh and
Bubbling warmth guide me
To overwhelming satisfaction

Every moment spent
Between giggles and sighs
A blessing to us both

The chasing and coaxing
Unnecessary, but delightful
Beneath these bedsheets

As I thrash against the very
Thing I always wanted
But never knew

And I am filled so completely
Full, my body gushes
With the immensity

The intensity
Of an experience I’ve
Unknowingly been deprived

And as I return to myself
Emptied of you
I am filled with Bliss

This soul gripping joy
Is the truth I’ve been seeking
Remind me again

Remind me
Forever
With your kiss

 

 

Image found on Tumblr, no original source found.

Bed Sheets

Love between the sheets by millionmilesofwater via DeviantArt.com
Love between the sheets by millionmilesofwater via DeviantArt.com

Incandescence permeates
the thin cloth we hide beneath
Is it the sunset, or the sunrise?
Or is it us, glowing from within?
I cannot tell how long we’ve been here
Beneath these bed sheets
Wading in and out of
The warmth of each others delight.
It started with the promise of
Your hands, those lovely fingers,
So strong and reaching,
Clinging to my face as you searched…
Your clear, cogent stare seeking
Out the bubbles of doubt and fear
That percolated behind my eyes….
Your sweet, gentle, knowing smile
Popping each one with precision
Until my own hands softened and urged
Those lips to taste away any remnants
Of my trepidation.
And I surrendered.
In potent kisses,
Whispered words,
And gasping giggles,
My body becomes your candle.
You light me, ignite me, melt me
Into a puddle of sighs and pleas that
Dash against you fervently
Warming you from the outside in.
But still, we are incomplete.
Your coaxing and urging turn to
Pinning and taking.
No longer a question,
Submission is required.
And my stinging skin is
Reward for us both.
The last of your will
Lands, glistening, on my flesh.
Salty strands of love for me to
Play in, taste and treasure.
After our skin cools
And heartbeats slow,
You carry me beneath the shower.
Where the water pressure
Is a delicious reminder of
The wicked sin that is our pleasure.
All that you can deliver,
I want it bad
I want it again, and again, and again.
So that when I wake to see
Incandescence permeate these bed sheets,
I can smile at you and
Feel your smile in return.
Just as you are, my sun.

Pressure by Milk & Bone

You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
All that you can deliver, I want it bad
You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
I can feel in my fingers all the last inner comfort of your
Bed sheets, your bed sheets
Is this your heart beat?
Or is it mine?
Heavy but slowly,
Save it for now
You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
All that you can deliver, I want it bad
You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
I can feel in my fingers all the last inner comfort of your
Bed sheets, your bed sheets
They turn with hunger,
Poll soaked with mine
Better and deeper into your mind
You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
All that you can deliver, I want it bad
You’re like good water pressure
In a cold rainy summer,
I can feel in my fingers all the last inner comfort of your
Bed sheets, your bed sheets

Vindication

The closed fist of accusation is unable to think, feel or hear.

Specifically if it is wrapped in a glove of fear and regret.

But here I stand, with open hands, open eyes, an open heart,

Listening and breathing and knowing.

There is nothing wrong with me.

I am simply me. As I’ve always been. And always will be.

Self aware, and becoming more so every day.

My insecurities have very few answers.

But my will to be whole in the face of unmet needs

Sits atop my own deviance and smiles.

I seek the impossible, because the word says, I’m Possible.

But as the possibilities work themselves out,

I pour sand in the holes with these words.

And dream of a future beneath them.

Lead me

you don't fear me by pandaface333 via DeviantArt.com
you don’t fear me by pandaface333 via DeviantArt.com

Bind me
To the edges
Of your imagination.
Strip me
Down to the nakedness
Of your desires.
Pin me
To the darkness
Of your will.
Make me
Obey the need
Of my submission.
Break me
Right through to the heart
Of my surrender.
Take me
Anywhere in the world
Of your words.

Lead me,
With your unique Dominance…

I can follow.

I will follow.

Hiding

image

She stands in the hall, unseen, unheard.
Like a child. Frightened with no reason. Intimidated by no-one but herself. Swallowing back tears and trying, painfully, to somehow stuff down the fear.

He sits, still and silent. He knows she’s there, just out of sight. He wishes he had whatever it is she needs to open up and let him see.

If he goes to her though, she will run. She will smile and pretend. He knows her. He’s seen her do it a thousand times. He understands why she locks herself in a bottle, because he does it as well.

If he pushes, the cork will become wedged, and nothing will budge it until the pressure becomes too much. Only downward force could change that.

He knows that’s exactly what she’d like him to do. To drill out the cork, smash her bottle, force her open. But, he cannot bring himself to break her.

She needs to open on her own. To release the cork from within. To surrender without coercion.

He watches quietly as she rounds the corner. She glances up at him, making her way quickly into the room, but pulling her gaze down as she kneels before him, and lays her cheek on his knee.

He sits for a moment, wishing he had all the answers, wondering if he’ll ever understand his girl. His sweet wife.

Remembering her need for his touch, his hand lifts to stroke her and his fingers slip into her silky tresses.

She sighs, and her body relaxes. He moves his other hand to shift her so he might see her face. As he does, he watches a tear escape and brushes it away with his thumb.

He stares at her and she gazes up at him, into his eyes. She remains mute, but he knows. He sees her.

“Thank you for not hiding,” he whispers as his fingers weave through her hair.

She exhales slowly, and her eyes clear.

Perhaps this is all she needed.

His patience will help her find her voice. They are, after all, the same bottle. Just with different contents.

Undoubtedly, he will find a way to return her true smile. His way. He knows her, knows what’s under the cork. He sees her, even if the glass is cloudy.

He feels her surrender. And eventually, he will find a way to properly use it. To combine the contents of their bottles. To become one.

He’s sure that is what she wants more than anything. To be part of a whole, to be part of him.

If she can stop hiding, so can he. And perhaps he can break both of their bottles, permanently.

You are magical…

He sees me.
Broken, in this moment.
Lost in the spiral.
Of my illogical thoughts.

I hold my tongue…
I contain my criticism…
I maintain my submission.

He sees me.
Wraps his arms around me.
Resets me HIS way.
Not mine.

I grin my dimpled smile…
I release my held anxiety…
I exhale my sweet magic…

He sees me.
My concern always for him.
Trust coaxing him.
To decide, for me.

I show my respect…
I voice my appreciation…
I become my submission.

He sees me.
And he tells me.
The thing I never thought
He noticed.

You are magical…

image