I've decided to spice up Fridays. For those under the age of 18, look away. Although, I suspect some of you under 18's know more than I do. All the same, look away.
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Cotton candy flavoured tears
Fell from his eyes,
And without hesitation,
Without doubt or fear,
I licked them,
Savouring the sweetness
Of his misery.
He was my slave,
I loved the way
That sounded out loud
And in my head.
The thought was sweet
And spicy and it created
A emotion that bordered
On arousing and sinister.
I never let him know this,
That the sight of him
Completely nude except for
The black studded collar,
Waiting eagerly for my command
Made me ever so wet.
If he knew,
Power would have shifted,
I would lose
The other thing that
Excited me,
Power over a man.
I would use this power
To torture him,
To make him yearn for me,
To make his manhood
Stand at attention,
Yearning to be swallowed
By my body,
Completely,
Entirely.
Just when I knew
He was at the edge
Of control,
About to fall into the abyss
Of animal urges,
I would let him
Have my body.
He knew to take his time,
To be gentle.
One wrong move
And I would stop
Him from reaching
His promise land.
With my slave
Deep within,
I found my promise land
And as long as I have him
As my slave,
I will always find it
On the corner of
Power Lane
And Avenue Lust.
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2 comments:
Amazing imagery of teetering on the abyss between orgasm and denial.
Last 100 Days as an Alcoholic
Damn... this is good ... I can see everything
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