Watch Me

I’m no longer his disciple

I’m Master now

Me, metaphor morphed

into reality

Me, with subjects at my feet

My hands unbound

To devastate their bodies

With pleasure and pain

Soliloquy 

Perplexed by the paralysis

of my tongue,

I want him pinned down,

tied,

and bound

I can’t wait to stroke it,

fondle his fear,

tap stilettos beside

his ear

Dear Darkness,

I want him. And

I’ll try not to break him

while he hovers

between

ecstasy and existence

And when I Iet him come

back to reality

he’ll see me lick the

remnants of a furious

harvest from my hand

————————————–

• Art by @Aliciarihko •

On Calling Him Daddy

I pride myself on being a particularly sexual person. An adventurer, a group sex lover, and an agile performer who gets wet at the thought of outdoor sex where other people might see me. The only hang up I have around sex is when a male partner wants me to call him Daddy.

I was being blissfully fingered and getting my toes sucked with a powerful vibrator on my clit one night. I couldn’t separate myself from my body, pleasure ran through me connecting flesh to thought. He could tell I was close by the waves of my hips and the tightening of my pussy. He took my toes out his mouth and said,

“Are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum for Daddy?” It was hot but it also kind of slowed down my momentum.

I said, “Yes” all heavy breathy, still pleasure fueled. He went on to say, “Tell me, tell me you’re gonna cum for Daddy” to which I replied, “I’m gonna come for you” and put my foot back in his mouth.

Logically I know there’s no difference between calling someone baby or Daddy.

I call people baby all the time, so why the uneasiness with Daddy? Upon careful consideration and reflection, I came to the conclusion that since I’ve never called my real father “Daddy” for some reason it feels wrong to call any other man that. Maybe some part of my twenty-something year old self is still holding out hope that I will call him that one day.

But it’s just a freaking word! And I’m a writer, supposedly a master of words, so why is this one so heavy on my tongue? That night, I did not call my lover Daddy, nor did I do it in the following weeks.

When and where I finally did it was a couple months later at a nudist/swingers resort called Hedonism II in Jamaica…

*Artwork by Instaphazed*

Time Races Forward

When you love

You are uniquely vulnerable

You lay claim to a man like

A queen claims a nation

You crave his flesh, his affection,

his unyielding devotion

Nothing quite prepares you for

the moment he turns his back

The moment he checks his watch

He’s set time free — cutting the bounds

You both used

To hold it still

To keep it chained

To the bed

• Art by @eroticartdrawing •

Ashes of Men

We look at each other

with a ruthless lust… I can’t

promise you anything, but

could my tender touch for

one night be enough? I’ve

seen you on your knees, but

not for my pleasure. You’ve

called me a goddess, though

you only see me at my leisure

You haven’t seen me in action

Aroused with a whip in my hand

The awoken dragon. You haven’t

seen the ashes I’ve made of men