April 1, 2015

From Eight Until Ten.  For You.

You stood over me for many years.

Were those years fragments only?

Can you remember?

Maybe you loved me.

Maybe you didn’t.

There was a house that you sold.

There were stories told .

Then there was no house.

And the stories grew old.

There was a beach.

The road ended at the sea.

I  would race to the door.

I was bound to the floor .

I  loved you.

There was a horizon.

It remains.

I remain.

But if you do not remember.

What was there?

Us?

Has our moment gone?

Tell me something.

Tell me anything.

April 1, 2014



 

She sat on the bench and waited.  In limbo.  He sat down next to her.  He said hello like he could fuck her through a wall.  She followed him home.  Driving behind him, she saw that he had his right arm draped over the passenger's seat, in complete control.

 

She playfully tapped him on the face while he lay aside her.  He laughed and said that was cute. Then he held her down and choked her until she apologized and begged him to fuck her again.

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

February 14, 2014

December 21, 2013

 

...and wishes made for another year.

April 1, 2013

Here is how it began.

The central passion of my life.

You spoke.

I was dazzled.

I held back.

But I could not stay away.

We were surrounded by others.

Yet we spoke privately.

Technology created a relationship

Curiously medieval in tone.

A chevalier who courts his lady from afar

Without a trace of physicality.

Experiencing this assault on the senses

Was akin to traveling from the pristine

Isolation of my soul’s snowy pine forest

To some opulent Oriental bazaar.

You voiced knowledge of a sensuality

I had held back: fire in a shell of sensibility.

I dreamed of your stature.

The elegance of your long, slender limbs.

I felt you must possess a candid stare

I knew it would be penetrating.

I prayed it would let me in.

Where we might find common ground.

So I’d resigned myself.

Our relations had to remain

As such and for the time being.

But could they sustain this remove yet devotion?

We were water.  We were inlets and islands.

We needed to flow and ebb at each other’s land.

Dear Professor of Desire.

A man who does not need to swagger his confidence.

Few have known as well as I the discrete

Difference between profane and sacred love.

All restraints fleeing my body

As I unfurled into a sail and wind

That transported us

To regions I had never traveled before.

I think of the soft hair on the nape of your neck

And it seems an impossible thing to me.

I heard your voice and felt your breath.

I heard your heart on top of mine.

It seems the vastest and saddest miracle of my life.

I touched your hair.

  

What wisdom is there for me

To focus on the gravity of love?

I feel unmoored

So floating in the void.

I’ve lost the love-weight

That had anchored me for all of those years.

In my loss, I often wonder

Why I left my rocks.

Why I turned from the snowy pines.

Was it not to give up hope?

I would not have had as much joy

But I would have avoided much pain.

I know now that any relation I ever had was meaningful to me

Built on the rope of hope, however mistaken.

The Woodsman

You (yesterday) : "One of these days I need to tie her to a tree in those woods and rip her shirt open, beating her tits with a switch."


Me: (silence)

Dom Versus Domme

I have a friend who was a Dominatrix.  I say “was” because I don’t think she actively pursues clients anymore, having other interests, but I suppose one could argue, “Once a Domme, always a Domme.”

I invited her to the Cape house.  She arrived at the lower door wearing a wig and a tightly belted trench coat.  She entered and we went upstairs to the living area.  She unbelted her coat with a wicked grin, and there she stood before me in all her Domme splendor.  I laughed.  Delightful.  She had a crop and was playfully thwacking at the furniture.  “Bring me a drink, Slave!”

She heard footsteps above her head.  The master floor and bedroom suite.  She looked at me with a puzzled expression.  Footsteps came down the stairs, and you entered.  She gasped.  It had been a while.

I think she wanted to be embarrassed, but something else kicked in and she adjusted her head back and stared at you defiantly.  Domme to Dom. 

I knew better.  I took one look in your eyes and saw it all.  How much you were going to enjoy yourself.   The undoing.   She was my friend, but you were my Dom.  This takes precedence.

She looked at me.  I looked at you.  I fell to my knees and lowered my eyes.  Her mouth opened in astonishment.  Then she looked at you again.

You met her wavering gaze head on.  A slight smile on your lips.   She knew she would have to pay for this moment of frivolity.  “Slut?  Get upstairs.  Now.”  I left.  I knew I would have to bear witness and participate in the falling of a proud Domme.  I dreaded it.

The lessons she thought she so gleefully played at?  She was going to learn the impact of what they really meant, for the first time in her life.  I am sure she was starting to tremble, realizing her error.

But you?  I knew she would weaken.  I knew she would be humbled.  I knew your gaze.  I had paid for disobeying that gaze.  I understood its full power and the need for obedience.  I heard her cry out.  I heard a thud.  I could only guess.  You had grabbed her hair and dropped her to her knees in front of your hard cock.  Such begin the lessons.