Styles
Styles
1 day ago

Spread your passage of desire;
              Warm me with you heat,
              melt me with your fire.
              For  I am what you seek,
              you are what I desire.

#love   #poem   #poetry   #poet   #passion   #sex   #bdsm   #horny  
Paul Donnell
Paul Donnell
4 days ago

Saturated in steely blue clutches, sweating from the 75 degree Georgia night
strung up and washed out with a serpent woman that keeps bringing on the blight
Singing you a song of bliss and blinders.

A big brick red boot on your neck and a green collar that reads The Gardens Bitch
The Garden takes the taxes tightens up the lead and never relaxes
Hit ya where ya like, the pain is disguised, leather tastes like candy, The Gardens got ya hypnotized.
Your late night camping sight attracts the moon light parasite, that acolyte of appetite, Tonight your the Gardens Delight

You wanna run but she's got those hooks between your shoulder blades feeling like an inexorable orgy of silk, smoke and skin.
She gives you every thing you need,
Fountain heads of intemperance and black out nights
Whole streets smelling like grease and charcoal charbroils
Men and women of dexterous lechery, feverous severance, and generous deference
Crystals for your cranium, high altitude dives and the lowest lows.
A cacophony of any entertainment you might want or need, just as long as its seedy.

The Garden keeps blinders on your head to make sure you can't see anything she doesn't want you to.
Try to remove em and the punishment is usually severe.
She might give you the greatest loves you've ever known and turn em to photographs, blot em with LSD and trip you out on memories.
And when you come back to what you think reality is she'll take those photographs and burn em up right in your face and leave you asking if any of it really happened while feeling like it was the realest thing that ever has.
She'll break you and build you up, build you up and break you worse. A cycle of bad things feeling real good.

The Garden will do everything in her power to keep you righthere.

But if you can get all those straps and tight leather off, all those hooks and chains.. If you can escape her steely blue clutches,,

You'll finally see how wrong you've been done, and your still gonna want her back in some strange way..
but you might start to heal....
But know this.
No matter where you might run off to,
You'll still be hearing The Garden City call.
That siren song of bliss and blinders.

Fuck this city.
Rose L
Rose L
6 days ago

Sludge and blood. The smell of deep red iron
filtering through the rocks and bodies bruised to the touch.
Grotesque collections of pills and broken skin;
infections and secretions and violent affections -
Spit stained fingers and dilated pupils at thoughts thick with resin.
Waking up with sickness in your stomach and bite marks on your neck
The pull of clutching hands at strands of hair and bitten lips and sweat
Pulling deeper, sharp inhale of self-done stitches
Ripped open insides and the moment his breath hitches -
aches forever. Pulsing, swollen, bleeding on the brain
Sweet and sickly, gorgeous and gorged veins
Momentary singularity in pain.

I tried to create a parallel in this between illness and sex. I hope it shows!
#love   #blood   #sex   #killing   #murder   #horror   #scary   #sexual   #bdsm   #violent  
Styles
Styles
Mar 4

I want to
saturate my tongue
in your taste
while you
wrap your legs
around my waist
and we both race
to keep pace
with each other
moving together
back and forth
making you wet
like a rain
in stormy weather
our bodies
ingrained like we were
made for each other

#love   #poem   #poetry   #poet   #heart   #sex   #bdsm   #relations  
Styles
Styles
Mar 4

flesh meeting flesh
devoured by emotion
two soulmates mesh
bodies momentarily woven
in the pleasures of the flesh
lost in each others depths
speaking words unspoken

#love   #poem   #poetry   #poet   #passion   #sex   #emotion   #bdsm  

where are the bonds you used to use
upon me who was so willing
do you tie another now
and is she just as thrilling?…

I miss the ropes that were my own
They lie here still beneath my bed
Perhaps you will return one day
And tie me once again

There has been no other since
You were too good at what you did
Such love comes by but once
To share a life that is now dead

I reach and toy with them sometimes
Sweet memories of what was
Of nights of perfect loving wild
to rekindle what we had

But they are to be no more I fear
Despite my wanting so
So I must lie and shed a tear
For all we used to know.

**
From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 BDSM Verses 2016

I write about what I know, from the heart
My collected works are available on Amazon Kindle if you feel like reading more of my stuff
#love   #lost   #sex   #bdsm   #bondage  

When I try to move
the ropes upon
my wrists and ankles
bite with sharp reminder
that I am Your slave.

Yet I test them
because my mind
demands I know that
I am owned and worth
nothing unless I am Yours.

My freedom being unwanted
You have left me bound
knowing that Your skill
with ropes will hold me fast
until You return.

Yet still I squirm and fight
Your hellish cords
wanting them to hurt me
in ways that You intended
when You left me bound this way.

**
From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 BDSM Verses 2016

I try to put my thoughts into verse, to reflect the joy I have found in BDSM relationships over the years
A volume of my collected works can be found on Amazon, in paperback and kindle
BDSM Verse, by Francesca Anderssen, 101 poems for kinky lovers

The chains Sir keeps upon me mark me as his slave
in holding me so cruelly he gives me what I crave
wrists and ankles linked with slack enough to walk
collar locked about my neck with Master’s name engraved.
I go about my duties here in dress provocative,
with stockings black, seams so straight, Master does insist
and heels that I must teeter on that lift my head so high;
to please in every way I can and reason here to live.

The silver links make such pretty sound as I move around,
in dusting here and sweeping there as quiet as a mouse
I try not to disturb him much or to displease at all.
to do so might invoke his wrath and earn a beating harsh,
but somehow in each working day some anger I incur
I drop a cup, or bang a door, or fail to clean a stain;
things that engender such a frown, and promises of pain.
Master says I do such things that will worst incur his wrath,
as when the water is in error one degree when I run his bath
or when my tongue fails to clean his boots to glossy shine;
which I know will bring punishment as he decides in time.

My protested innocence of no avail, his retribution certain,
I must fetch an instrument from where he keeps them hid
set to receive such punishment as will befit the crime,
while I’m prostrate upon the cross and wait as I am bid.
Sometimes he ties me in that pose for an hour or two,
to give me some reflecting time to think on what I’ve done
though I think as ornament I am there for such regarding,
ignoring me while he gets on with things he has to do.
But stretched and tied I know full well, I will receive my due,
and bound that way serves only to increase anticipation,
as I test the knots he’s used on me to force my body open.

For Master is my owner now, and can do just what he chooses.
Will I be made to count each stroke, measuring my bruises?
To place them in the neatest lines across my tender flesh
missing those fading from yesterday to give me welts so fresh.
As master tests my neediness by drawing finger wet,
making me to suck myself, acknowledging my heat.
I try to hide my needs from him, I really really do,
but betrayed somehow as my flooding self makes clear.
I tense myself and bite my lip as whipstrokes land quite hard,
but I feel myself rising up to meet each one that falls.

Master has forbidden me to climax here at all
but oh it is so difficult, like that, not to cum withal.
He knows full well that I cannot resist his falling whip
bringing me to peak each time while I hold myself away.
I’ve been told that if I cum with six more I’ll have to pay;
right now that seems a bargain fair, I need to cum this way.
And so with the next cut I have, I can’t hold myself in check
and shudder as my scream is that of some unearthly being,
the cross itself creaks as if to break as I strain in throes of joy.

Not me, that is not me at all, for I am someone far away,
lost in a sea blazing pain as ecstasy releases what I am.
A rapid six falls across me now, though I am oblivious to it all
I hang and quake upon the cross in ropes that hold me so.
Master leaves me there like that, in ways he knows so well.
Hanging, used, a fractured shell, knowing I’ve been through hell
To reach sweet paradise of pain where I need to suffer more.
E’er long my Master will come to cut me down and I can resume
my duties as his servant girl, unless of course he wants me
for use in other ways that only Master can presume.

From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 BDSM Verses 2017

A poem about the joys of total submission to a lover, for those who seek discipline and control as part of a fulfilling relationship.
I write of what I know.
I hope my readers will understand that too.
This is my life as I have lived it. Kinky yes, but in the company of liked minded people who have invariably been kind and courteous
My book of 101 collected poems is on Amazon (BDSM Verse Francesca Anderssen)
on kindle and paperback

This book of verse by which I live
as Valentine gift to you I give
the lines across its pages white
express my deep desire each night.

So master read of disciplined need
as I follow my submissive creed.

Each page you turn will tell of me
and the ways I seek your cruelty
there is no pain I will not forebear
imprisoned in your dungeon lair.

This book of prose gives freedom to
do all that you’ve a mind to do.

So at random take each page you see
and create all that’s there for me
as ev’ry suffering there ignites
a passion that your bonds be tight.

So that my consuming fires be lit
this gift of words I do submit.

From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 BDSM Verses 2017

I try to express my love of bondage and BDSM in what I write,
I hope you like it too.
It is life as I have lived it. Kinky yes, but in the company of like minded people who have invariably been kind and courteous in parallel with their sadism.
My book of collected verse is on Amazon (Francesca Anderssen)
on kindle and paperback, together with my BDSM Novel "Need" which is semi autobiographical.
#sex   #submission   #bdsm   #bondage  
R A Lee
Jan 23

Commanding and adept your hands guide mine alone supple lips.
Pausing
She tastes of cinnamon.
She squirms but can not move.
She is not afraid.
Our hands grasp her neck.
Tonight she belongs to us
With every gasp she moans.
My mouth is quivering, thinking about tasting her.
I search for her thighs from my satin darkness.
They are warm, wet, and inviting like the ocean
she tastes of salt and sunshine.
My tongue glides over her vagina , slowly, tenderly as our body heat rises and
then crack goes the cat o' nine.
She can not breathe and I can not see yet there has been no greater ecstasy.

#sex   #bdsm   #mouth   #vagina   #xxx   #dom   #alpha   #switch   #poly   #swingers  
 
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