heaven must have sent you
for how else could you be
with me
though your wings are invisible
i feel them when you hold me
wrap around me
shelter me
from the warm rain
cascading down your back
dripping from your hair
and from the tip…
of your seed
you truly are an angel
enwrapping me
in love


you look at me as though you would drink my blood
slice my skin with a pointed nail
“oh, if you only knew
what i could do to you right now,” you say,
then you eat me alive
my veins drip red wine
you suck the life from my pores
and drunk on the torture of love
i obey


Unsightly sights

We’re closed for the night
all tucked in just you ‘n’ me
alone at last;
you with your tie and your shiny hair
and me in uncomfortable stockings

In the dark, with the lights off
who cares if they knock on the glass doors
we have nothing left to sell
except what we sell ourselves;
heated breath, exchanged, no receipts

Can they see us shedding the clothes
of mannequins? haha is that what they think?
Thru the window my skin is pale and if
I stand still enough perhaps
my porcelain skin will look to their eyes
innocent window dressing

You feel my radiant lust upon your chest
that I care not what they think
as I untie your tie and drop your drawers
and then the window dresser appears to be
doing the unspeakable with his porcelain companion
at closing time.

puzz le

we appear the same, you and me
both have eyes and hands
and feet with which to walk away

but in truth we are opposite
diametric yin and yang

a jigsaw
compelled to
complete itself

One Night Stand

When all of the lights
have dimmed, then gone out
and it’s just you and me
skin against skin
under covers of silk

No one can know how
our private commingling
with hot wax and fire
can serve us precisely
what we need to survive

In the daylight tomorrow
when we are re-covered
with inflexible masks
of social exertion
we’ll pretend unacquaintance

But tonight only we can
know yield and endowment
of intimate fusion
of blood, sweat and passion
under covers of silk

Fit to be Tied

A little tale of revenge, by me 🙂


If I can just get it straight.. he thought, slurping back the drool that had pooled again in the corner of his mouth.

The slip was fine, cut thin sliced nicely into her flesh. Her gag a prop – it made her feel better, as though she was a victim instead of a willing participant.

“Almost finished my love,” he said. Hard as a rock, he throbbed with longing. It had been at least fifty minutes since he began.

As the blade reached the point of the pentagram she let out a whine. He glanced at her.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

She nodded emphatically.

“Good girl,” he smiled.

He placed the sharp tip of the knife at the point and lifted the flesh. She whined louder and he licked his lips in anticipation.

“May I?” he asked. He wasn’t sure now. He’d never taken this final step with her. She was scarred from collarbone to feet, but never like this.

Her eyes pleaded with him but told him nothing. He wouldn’t take it off without her consent. He waited, pulsating with the beat of his heart.

Even as the tears streamed down her flushed cheeks she nodded. It wasn’t good enough. He pulled on the fabric of her gag and she closed her mouth and swallowed.

“Say it,” he whispered.

Her smile was grateful, her voice raspy with need. “Flay me.”

He replaced the gag and stood. He straddled her body and bent at the waist. He leaned over her, the light still shining directly on her skin, her blood glistening.

He placed his blade flat against her shoulder and began the slip.

Time stood still when he performed this way. Slowly at first until he found his depth, his art smelled like copper and screamed of molten pleasure both for himself and his subject. Closer and closer he came with each tip, until all five were begun. By the time he reached the centre of the star he could all but taste it. The five points lifted, curled back, he stepped away and admired his work.

He bent down to gaze into her glazed over eyes, knowing that the adrenaline did the same to his.

“Are you ready, my love?”

She smiled past her gag and nodded. He placed the blade at her cheek and she pushed against it, cutting herself a fine line. A single drop of blood hung, suspended from the bottom of the slice.

All at once he stood he lifted he slipped she screamed he roared he came she came it was done.

He loved his job.

Beauty Chained

So sweet in white you
bent to sniff to smell the
rose so red I sent you
this morning the dew on
your lip lick it
off and smile at me

So sweet in sweat I
see you bent and writhe in
pleasure ah my treasure all
slathered in creamy paint you
drip and slip it
off and smile at me

So sweet in chains you
pull and gnash and grasp the
links you slink I scratch you
seize your ache you
squeeze and slide it
off and smile at me

So sweet in black you
stretch and sigh and drift in
silken cream and paint I
glide and ride you
slip yes take it
off and smile at me

So sweet in sleep you
breathe and moan deep in
velvet bliss you cream me
yield and
blush rush lick it
off and smile at me


Beauty’s Calling


Prince Blorigan heard of Beauty through one of his own servants. A cousin of a friend who knew a girl who had been to visit Beauty told the tale of a teenaged boy locked in a tower catered to by only women. It was a sin against humanity if ever Blorigan had heard of one. And so, curious, he plotted to see for himself.

Blorigan, with the aid of trusted woman in his household, went about dressing himself up as a young girl to gain entrance to Grim’s castle. Once inside it was simple. Gush over never having seen Beauty up close (as though anyone had seen him from afar) and tell of a cousin who had had the pleasure of Beauty’s company and it was only a matter of moments before Blorigan was in the presence of the beautiful young man.

The Prince had with him a fan which he held up to his face as he tittered with the six other girls who had been invited to sit with Beauty that afternoon. He hadn’t expected to find himself quite so enamoured of the young man. He was, indeed, very beautiful. Blorigan was quite nervous. For it was told that after court with Beauty was held, he would go around the room and kiss each of the girls on the lips, deciding which, if any, would have a place in his chambers to help him dress in the morning and undress at night. None of the girls lasted long, unless they happened to be in Beauty’s employ when one of the older women left, unable to give away a son of Beauty’s father, Grim.

As Beauty moved around the room, bending before each of the girls to give them each a chaste kiss on the lips and then straighten and smile, Blorigan began to tremble. Should he be outed by Beauty (who would surely be surprised to feel the roughness of his closely shaven skin) the consequences of his deception would be dire. He began to wonder what had gotten into him, thinking he could get away with it, let alone being well received by Beauty. So it was with nervous bravery that Blorigan lowered his fan and accepted Beauty’s kiss. Beauty, startled, pulled away just enough to stare at Blorigan’s lips before kissing him again. He didn’t smile. Without glancing away from Blorigan he ordered the rest out of the room.

“But Beauty!” exclaimed the lady who always accompanied the girls. “This is highly unusual.”

“Leave us!” Beauty commanded.

Blorigan heard the shuffling of feet and the soft thunk of the wooden door closing against its frame. Without a word Beauty reached under the Prince’s skirt and felt there a hardness.

“You’re like me,” Beauty whispered.

Prince Blorigan nodded, speechless.

“You must stay, and teach me,” Beauty breathed against the Prince’s lips. “Are you,” Beauty swallowed, “are you the only other one?”

“No, the world is filled with men as well as with women…”

Beauty cut off his words with another deeper kiss.

“Stay with me,” Beauty repeated with a groan.

“I can’t,” Blorigan said. “I have a kingdom to help my father rule. I am a Prince and must marry soon.”

“You will marry a woman?” Beauty asked, unbelieving as he pressed himself against the Prince.

“We will teach each other perhaps, before I go.”

“And you will return?” Beauty demanded, dropping to his knees for a better look.

“As often as I can,” Blorigan sighed, his head tipping back and his eyes closing.

Bracelet Death

There is a sweetness like honey drips
The colour of roses, pink and soft
That make me carnivorous
Through your skin so delicate
Hints the red of black cherries
The tart wisp of citrus sweat
Just below your jawline
Ahhh….slip swiftly

A breath from tongue
And my mouth waters salt scent
Like fire through an hourglass
I inhale your heat
Take me to mars, I whisper too softly
Feel you shiver from head to toe
Feel your body elongate
Mmmm….hell’s handmaid

There’s a taste to your mouth
Of sweet cherry brandy
Of darkness desire so secretly warm
From your current I sense
Electric cold minefield
Hips a magnet for fingertips
And cat scratches kitten bliss
Nnnn….luscious love

In blackness is given in grace everlasting
In hard hallowed heaven
Of satin silk static
Enclosed with your strength
I’m showered with petals of blue honeydew
I breathe in white essence
My candle of starlight
Aamm….bracelet death


January 31, 2007
11:32 pm