I sometimes pause, to think about what's wrong with me?
Why do I need to see her in pain?
See her crying out, from a sudden lash, or a sudden twist
A bite of the whip or a bite of my teeth.
The feel of her flesh in my hand, having complete control.
The tears on her cheek as she looks up at me,
while I hold her choker chain.
I've rarely broken her skin, I tell myself
(I only do when I get a little out of hand with the birch)
And the worse I can do is leave a hand shaped bruise
On those beautiful orbs she flaunts from those short skirts.
So why do I need to see her pretty face in pain?
Then I remember the look she gives me as she squirms under my soothing touch.
The way she acts with each new slap, deepening her breaths,
sharpening them in moments of pure esctasy.
And I realise that the looks of pain, the tears,
they're all her ways of trapping me.
Because I really don't need to see her in pain.
Instead, she needs to see me enjoying it.
A contest entry
- A candle in the dark by im dead - go away.
425 points, ended June 16, 28 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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that was pretty dark. But I think you put it together really well. Nice job.
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ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo very dark yet cool
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Blimming heck !
This is awfully awfully good, but kinky !
And saucy, saucier than a leading supermarkets sauce aisle.
But yeah, very, very good.
Well donee!
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