Thursday, April 30, 2020

The Artist - by Will (Willpb94)

The softest skin,
The cruel delight,
Sensation sets my mind alight.
She forces me down to my place,
Awaiting leather’s cold embrace.

Paralysed, I vainly try,
To squirm in cuffs that bind my hands.
The pain begins,
My will, now broke,
Dissenting words,
Cannot be spoke.

And as I cry,
Pure tears, like dew,
She paints my skin,
A rose-red hue.
Her crop is now Her artist's brush,
This masterpiece, She does not rush.
My pain will serve to be Her muse,
She paints, inspired by every bruise.

In this modest way I serve,
A tool, for use when She desires.
Through, crop and whip She moulds me ‘till,
My mind and body She acquires.

And then, with hands run through my hair,
She pulls me up, from servant's stance.
My feet, I find, my head, I raise,
To slowly meet the Artist’s gaze.
And then She asks:
“What now, sweet whore?”

I bend back down,
And beg for more.

One Through Five by Anonymous

poem called: one through five
a poem based on a subs reflection of events that ensued, in a interactive scene with Mistress.

one through five
do you feel alive?
contemplation, preparation, exhilaration, liberation,


as the guard falls deathly, beyond these walls,
as the summit peaks in time, within these halls.
the mind now like a horse, galloping, preparing for its races,
the body is readying itself, to be put through some paces.

as i have a fear of what may present in this store,
i allude to myself, what can i allure.
a quiver full of arrows they shoot down my spine,
are these words for me?... really are they mine!?
"before we begin, are you really comfortable with this"
my mind is screaming in fear, but yet bliss.

understanding the rules, the traffic lights and one through five,
i take a deep breath, now time to contrive.
the hand shakes slightly as i am ready to start,
all i can hear is this sound of my heart.

"do these things...., did you prepare the bed?",
bare thigh flesh suddenly becoming quite a pretty color of red.
as the numbers like a student, the graduations grows,
as the impact with tenacity, as each impounding blows.

the smell of fall fills the room,
as my thoughts of whats to come begins to loom.
as i watch the flicker, knowing what my arm can handle, a little snap of the pin.
but oh, when it's asked, a certain way to be hit free from the skin,
a little almost yelp echoes, as it shoots out of sight.
and a new part of flesh, now growing red and bright,

a trickle of heat down onto the torso,
relaxation of the apprehension, even more so.
a sudden stinging, over the already reddening thigh,
i jump in a shock, as i wince, i close an eye.
i gather myself, as for what is to come,
feeling we are just starting, we are not yet done.

with more of snapping in different places,
speaking difficult as a change of faces.
testing again with a trickle, now over the breast,
now gather my thoughts, just for a moments rest.

i remember these words ".... it's in your near future, maybe"
from what comes next, this calendar, was very fast to see.
controlling the motion, of my now almost trembling hand,
looking at my marks, as a temporary brand.
each breathless breath i take, i feel increasingly shy,
you've heard this whole thing, yet i should not to you deny.
these sounds, resounding quite loudly i feel,
is this really happening? is this whole thing is it real?

masochistic i admit too, yet term pain-slut i fight,
can my body give an answer, am i wrong or am i right?
i crave to serve, to please, to entertain,
i long for the day, till i feel this again.

thank You so much Mistress.