Dominance by Lady Susannah

Dominance

Many are capable,
some excel
at public play.

Flogging and
whipping and
tying,
humiliating and
denigrating
their submissives
in public.

Full of bravado;
a sense
of performance.

The audience -  both
appreciative and
awed,
slightly afraid -
claps and murmurs
assent,
approval,

Says THIS!
is how dominance is done
this way,
or perhaps,
this way,
but always

thusly.

I am incapable
of such
public displays.
I watch
and listen,
observing,
quiet.

Consequently, I am called
insincere,
not-real,
standoffish,
toosoft,
a pushover,
a prude!

A select few know the truth
of my dominance,
of my power and control
that is deeply
personal,
intensely
private.

I will get under your skin
despite
all your vows to yourself
to remain separate,
apart,
above,
aloof.

I do not need toys;
whips
and chains
and ropes,
to bind your soul
to mine.

No.

A stance,
a glance,
words whispered
in hothot breath
in your ear,

words that travel
down
your
spine
and make your most
intimate
parts
tingle

and twitch.

Words that coil
and twist;
embedding themselves
in the innermost
folds
of your brain.

A glance,
a stance.
I will
consume you.
All of you.
Bite,
slap,
scratch,
and

FUCK
you.

Keep you offguard
unbalanced
falling -
and being caught.
Only to be tossed again
into chaos
of mind
of heart
of throbbing

heat
and need.

No,
my dominance
is not for public display.