Pretty rich girl, softly dreaming, 
a woman is so newly waking
no use at all for dad’s financing, 
consumed by flesh that is desiring 
of wanton flows that force such rousing
to be taken far from here for using 
by men unfazed by city counting.

Then sudden blackness o’erwhelming, 
all sound and vision swiftly clouding
strong arms unseen and grasping 
to sweep her off her feet and making
sense of ropes around her tight’ning, 
with her arms together jerking
forcing back to ankles spreading
with ballgag muffled screaming 
she should now be strongly fighting 
instead there is a wild arousing.

Stripping cutting all that’s hiding 
until she’s held quite naked finding
that there’s a hood that’s closing 
round her head and isolating
from any sense of air that’s cooling
and rampant need that’s now arising
she feels excitement in so being
where she feels no fear abiding.

Put down hard after easy lifting
a lid above her slamming
the sound of engine starting 
spinning wheels now are speeding 
bound in dark she’s left a-lieing 
with mouth that gives no screaming
instead a wet arousal finding 
knowing of her inner needing.

****** rising almost blinding 
fighting, writhing, needing tying 
her tortured form now pounding
forcing every sinew twisting
with such unsought pleasure giving 
this wanton **** who has such thinking
of brutal taking and ill using
by men she should be hating.

How could juices start their flowing 
as crude hands began their probing 
carrying to places far unknowing.
Rough voices talking of their doing, 
arguing ransoms for demanding
then finding her with wet arousing 
cruel laughing at her needing
until there comes a sweet dividing 
of her eager self though darkening
roughly forcing them by wanting 
that she is newly there for taking
captors now in forced confronting.

There can now be no disguising 
that this is life not fantasizing 
these coarse brutes so crudely using
think they’re forcing her submitting 
now she wants them by satisfying 
her every silent wanton needing 
of each to feed obscene desiring.

An iron bed prepared for keeping 
till the time of ransom paying 
fully tight is now her strapping
legs apart, wide spreadeagling
ignoring all her protests mewling 
but her bucking body thrusting 
makes her needing so enticing
till they give her what she’s wanting.

There is now for each unseen taking
a welcoming and wet demanding 
so there can be no inflicting 
that but which is urgent wanting
opening each hole for filling 
not once or twice but oft repeating
taking turns in fully using 
till they are all quite lost in spending.

With captive bound there’s no sating 
screaming begging ne’er abating 
always there is more demanding 
screaming all despite her gagging
each time her body hits climaxing
fighting , dragging now and forcing 
wearied jailers for more pleasuring
ignoring all their worn protesting
incessant in her primal wanting
who is using whom in this not knowing
when captors should be really scaring
but they have never known such needing
standing round and jointly fearing
of chewing less than was their biting
with this nymphomaniac in bareing.

Words in anger, muffled voicing 
some with reason in conferring
then a quick release of bindings 
a body hot for blanket wrapping 
with a fiesty female grappling
cursing now her wild desiring
yet unstilled with needy struggling
tossed in the car for rapid driving 
some miles back by unknown routing
while in the trunk much banging
till on daddy’s doorstep dumping 
ransom now in quick forgetting
as captors with relief escaping
while pretty rich girl leans back smiling
anticipating her next kidnapping.


From my Francesca Anderssen Poetry collection: **** Verse (Amazon)

You have me tightly bound
and yet
there is such freedom
in what you do to me

I cannot move
under your probing hands
yet the flowing welcome
cannot be disguised

How can you know
so much of me
and how to drive me
to this insanity

Where I know
only of such longing
for what you are
and what you give

No man should know
all of what a woman is
or what my body needs
the way you do

Or the depth of
tenderness that I know
can come from only you
who keeps me here in *******

...Francesca Anderssen 2016

Now tell me such a tale sir
while I am tightly bound
of captive maidens held sir
where evil knights abound.

Then taken to be used sir
in their castles of renown
of tortured girls so sweet sir
who are forced so to kneel down.

Then tell me of the dungeons sir
within the fortress drear
with chains upon the walls sir
where I might be held in fear.

Then show me what it means sir
to be such a prisoner
where nothing else is real sir
but myself as a damsel fair.

Then make me live the thought sir
that I might so lie within
and tortured all day long sir
for each imagined sin.

Then secretly find pleasure sir
in all that’s done to me
while my knightly captor sir
has me on my knees.

Then eventually confess sir,
to all my worldly sins
while my sadistic lord sir
is making me more commit .

Then tie me even tighter sir
with every knot aware
rough ****** I now need sir
to think myself as there.

Then make me taste your whip sir
to force me to submit
of the marks you leave sir
you care not a single whit.

Then take me as you will sir
and drive me really wild
make sure I’m deeply kissed sir
where I feel it burn inside.

Then hold me in your keep sir
and bend me to your will
and use my body more sir
for my needs are never still.

Then stand me on the brink sir
and show me just the edge
of where I shall be pushed sir
with just the slightest nudge.

Then tie me up and leave sir
to dream and squirm at will
of the ways I might be used sir
in your castle on the hill.

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

it is that look
that makes me offer
what I am to you
and grovel for your pain

forcing my shredded self
to submit to rope
and lash
and biting chain

the sadist that is you
controls me now
my love is yours
no other life is mine

so leave me here
that I may scream into
this silent gag
bound till your return

Francesca Anderssen 2016

My hands are tied behind my back
you love this helpless look,
my mouth so open wide for you
to take your deepest ******.

Yet my tongue is free to torture still
so you can but suffer of it,
it curls itself around you so
while forcing me to take it.

I look up and watch you writhing wild
and bite so gently harder.
I make your hand twist in my hair
and ****** a little deeper.

Your use of me this perfect way
says that you control me.
But can you stop right now my love?
In that there seems a doubting.

So where does the root of torture lie
with you or with your slave?
For I am here and tied so tight
but you can never leave.

***
From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 **** Verses 2017

The craving for your whip
wanting it to mark me
to feel its hellish sting
screaming to force it on me
and the pain that says you own me

I feel its curl around my flesh
and strain at ropes that hold me
yet cannot hide
the moistening flood
that forces me to want you

the lines across my body red
will force my needing further
yet when you cut me down
and take my body to you
my wanting won’t deny you

For this is torture quite sublime
here in your darkest dungeon
your willing captive evermore
draining all you have to give
and wanting still more of you


....Francesca Anderssen 2016

To take my hands the way you do
and tie them tight behind,
I know by looking in your eyes
that to use me you’re intending.
What plan my sir do you have now
I never quite am knowing,
your mind is open to my look
yet a hidden secret’s pending.

Something new I cannot know
the wildest of surprises,
of causing sweetest suff’ring now
and intensifying wanting.
I sense my flow before you have
****** the last knot tightly,
and shudder with excitement in
your fingers deeply finding.

Trembling now and needing
to ****** myself against you,
you know how I do badly want
your deepest pleasure of me.
Your mouth comes down and
brushes mine with touch electrifying
I raise myself to taste you more
but in teasing you’re denying.

Instead you lift your fingers wet
and make me ******* juices,
I lick and **** myself in need
to know I’m ready for you.
We both devour just what I am
your **** who knows herself now
wanting to be disciplined
and used in ways you know how.

A blindfold now so softly closed
heightening of other senses
yet I trust you to take care
of all I am and here laid bare.
A gag is pressed close to my mouth
I open wide to take it
wanting so to please you now
and drive my own excitement.

Now your loving hands are gone
your body heat not beside me
instead I feel another here
fresh hands that soft caress me.
I tense and stiffen of myself
not knowing who this might be
yet in trust I have of you
this is but pleasure for me.

The hands so new in roaming me
exploring all I am now
no protest can I make to you
for I am what you make me.
To know soft fingers probing deep that
rouse me in such flowing
of wanting who this lover is
to force me into knowing.

I sense they are a woman’s hands,
no other could be doing,
of finding places in my soul that
make for such arousing.
I scent her softly warming skin
and hair that brushes ‘gainst me,
a woman is so very different
to that which a man ‘ere could be.

Soft teeth that find my *******
bite with lightest torture
closing hard to make me scream
were it not for gag that’s silencing.
I care not who this woman is
but that she uses me so
and forces me to melt in such a way
that allows me to be so free.

I sense that you are watching
that we two are pleasing you
the creature warm that you have brought
to bring me further pleasure.
But now I am so lost in her
and melt in liquid flowing
her tender hands that now
are finding my body’s treasure.

Her lips meet mine so openly
around the gag that silence keeps
and traces down my throat
brushing with soft caress.
My hands so bound that she
may do with me as pleases her
as down by body follows line
of kisses to her wild desire.

And then her mouth so burrows in
and begins to drink of me,
tongue finding that my body is
responding in wild full flow.
Nothing now can stop my rise
wanting fingernails to grip my thighs
to part them wide for her to reach
deeper inside than e’er I knew.

We lift together she and I
unseen I sense her raging urge,
as we ride the tide atop this surge.
Now just we two are held within
oblivious to but our driving needs
that builds and builds till we know
the ****** that consumes us both
in screams of mutual clasping joy.

*

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

When I couldn’t find my own love
there’s many said to me
go find yourself a master
who will see to all your needs.
I did not true believe them
it seemed so contra’ry,
that suffering and *******
would so set me free.

I fought and riled against it,
that was not to be the way
that I should be subjected
to mindless ***** play.
Then one day I met him
the one who was to be;
he was so softly spoken
in no way masterly.

But then he looked so very deep
as slow his hand found mine,
and then as if in knowing me
my fears just fell away.
I felt a need to surrender self
without being ordered to,
o'erwhelmed with such desire
to know of ******* new.

Somehow it seemed so natural
to offer him my hands,
that they could be so bound
to give all of self to him.
As knots closed tight upon me
it was as I’d been told,
a sudden surge of freedom
that I thought could never be.

And now he is my master
he owns me totally
and never have I been happier
when he takes his whip to me.
Or ties me when I need it
and sometimes when I don’t,
as long as I can have the bonds
that hold me in ecstasy.

I was not free
until you brought  me
to this secret place
where you intend to keep
my desire for you

I was not free
until the chill of steel
enclosed my neck
and bore the sign
that I belonged to you

I was not free
until I felt your cord
pull my arms behind my back
to make me suffer for the
want of you

I was not free
until your gag was
shoved into my mouth
so that I could not
cry out for you.

I was not free
until the darkness of your
hood closed off all senses
but the touch of what
I need from you

I was not free
until  I heard the cut of air
before your whip
curled round my helpless form
to leave the marks of you

I was not free
until I felt the bars of
the cage that now
encloses me and keeps
me safe for you

Francesca Anderssen  2016

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 **** Verses 2017

Take me as your very own
tie me as your love demands
use me now and use me fully
force me down to your commands

I need to know your chains upon me
such craving there will always be
to want your ropes to hurt my body
so your bonds will set me free

Submission is my total needing
wanting you to make it so
taking me to places strangely
where I cannot help but go

You’re the one who now must hold me
I’ve sold myself to your control
with my freedom gone forever
now that you possess my soul

so tie me tighter yet and tighter
my screams must bite the gag you give
use my mind to make me suffer
this is how I want to live.


.....Francesca Anderssen 2016

The rope that you’re using to hold me
I crave as my very own,
for I am your woman desiring
and submissive is now what I am.

Your whip might hold such terror
for one who knows not of pain,
for me it’s an object of wanting
that drives me to seek it again.

The gag that holds me in silence
so my protests cannot be heard,
arouses me more than I tell you
as screams are held deep inside.

So much of me needs all this from you
making me want in this way,
I cannot find it with others
only you can control how I play.

The torture you give is sublime now
such suffering drives me insane,
my mind goes deep into meltdown
and beyond anything I can explain.

The force of your lash overwhelms me
with agony driving so deep,
yet I must take all that you give me
as you dry the wet tears when I weep.

‘Tis then that you hold me so softly
with arms around me so tight,
to know that I am your slavegirl
and suffering for you is so right.
*

From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 **** Verses 2017

I did not know such thoughts
till I lay here tightly bound
and pleasures that I knew not
till I felt your ropes around.

I did not know the freedom
that ******* could so bring
or of eager anticipating
how a riding crop might sting.

I did not know the beauty
of being in your chains
as nothing but a slavegirl
to use as you intend.

I did not know the silence
that a leather hood could give.
locked in isolation
where nothing can intrude.

I did not know the feeling
of fingers touching so,
bringing deep caresses
to inflame my inner self.

I did not know the flowing
that would be drawn from me,
as hands I could not see there
might reach so deep within.

I did not know the warming
that would so rise inside,
to make me gasp with wanting
as I your knowing fingers ride.

I did not know the parting
so widely of my thighs,
that would accept your loving
as you hard against me rise.

I did not know how deeply
you would slide into me,
as my moist and eager welcome
would take you in so free.

I did not know that *******
could make me feel like this,
to be loved in this special way
was my need you see.

I did not know the rising
that comes from deep within,
with unstoppable explosions
that blow my mind away.

I did not know of subspace
that place you send me to
where I am in another world
until I return to you.

You have been my teacher
of things I did not know,
and that I was unaware
of the need I had of them.

I thought myself so worldly
yet was so innocent,
of such dark pleasures
that you brought to life for me.

You have taught me much
of things I did not know,
that freedom’s an illusion
and incarceration’s me.

Francesca Anderssen 2018

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 thoughts of us

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 **** Verses 2016

build for me a dungeon
let its walls be grim
use me there and often
and keep me locked within

in that darkest prison
you may use me to the full
keep your chains upon me 
so I may know their pull

make for me a cage there
for extra close confine
where chill of steel can touch me
and pleasure be refined

keep your whip well oiled there
that I may feel its curl
while I hang in helpless torment  
and my mind is in a whirl

let my mind be lost there
where only I may go
to know your deepest caring
while held in suff’ring’s throes

for there I’ll find my heartsease
as your willing prisoner
where bonds will hold you to me
and never let you go

Mirrors are made for such as we
where your eyes are held by mine,
with heated breath upon my cheek
as you stand so close behind.
With softest whispers in my ear
of pleasures yet to be,
you tell me of such raging need
that will delve so deep in me.

Hands whose skill I know so well
free garments in restrain’d haste,
and bare me so in mischief’s name
to show woman of a baser taste.
My wanton self so true revealed
a seeking now of that softest kind,
my expose’d flesh for your caress
in want of searching hand to find.

The mirror makes me watch anew
the reflected mask that is your face,
and hands that in disembodied play
make fingers light in knowing trace.
Moving round from close behind
they barely touch me now and yet,
are already deep within my mind
igniting such a fire for you.

Such power now o’erwhelms my strength
and holds my neck in softest clasp,
it pulls me tight back to you
with breathing left in shortest gasps.
I reach and find a hard’ning flesh
and insistent force I do now need,
my skirt so falls that you might find
my body which to you must cleave.

Downward slides your knowing hand
while naked in your tight’ning hold,
touching where you must find
my flooding self in welcome bold.
And thighs that part with practiced ease
aware that I’m being opened now,
as I feel your fingers sliding free
for all that you’re preparing me.

***** you drive so deep within
desiring all your length to grow,
to fill at once my eager need
of eternity impaled on this I vow.
Twisting, writhing, pushing back
to gain in me all that you are,
knowing that rising swell so sweet
that makes me woman so complete.

Your hand moves up to close my mouth
to hold the scream you sense will rise,
as my body pulses so on yours
and ****** now explodes my mind.
I know nothing now but what we are
the mirror holding us as one,
subsiding now in limp stupor
as you hold me in your arms once more.

Francesca Anderssen 2018

You cannot leave me
with the ropes you left
trailed across
the bed where you
loved me to exhaustion

You cannot leave me
with just the
thoughts of
wanting yet more
bonds restraining me

You cannot leave me
wanting such pain
as you gave to
me when you bound
me in your special way

You cannot leave me
needing cords to
hold me down
while you look at me
with  tender lust

You cannot leave me
with freedom I do
not want or need
unless you are here
to give me your restraint

You cannot leave me
free to crave
Your ropes
till you return
to tie me yet again

You cannot leave me until
I beg for you again
to force me to
be what I want to
be for you my love

Francesca Anderssen 2016

your softly breathing sleep
allows me to muse on times of love
of how you care to devise for me
such pleasures that I know not of

with softly tested link of chain
that holds me to your loving bed
to know that you are there to
shield me with your tender bonds

before slumber claims my eyes
I want to feel your hand in mine
That I may know that you
Lie close by for all our night.

I need to feel the tight confine
Of my captive self that lies within
full knowing that I am
your slave at every sunrise wake

to do your bidding here by morn
and seek your use of me in ways
that have not yet seen light of day
so you shall know me as your own

but dare I risk your wrath by want
of something in this darkest hour,
and think of all you did to me
that brought me to my frenzy here?

my fingers stray and find such wet
as you in passion full create
with desire for you now so intense
that I cannot but divide myself

and guide with care your sleeping hand
where I can ride it in my thrall
and pillow-stifle screams of need
at thoughts of being used again

your touch though sleeping forces me
into that driving ecstasy
that has become my life with you
with no other than this torment wild

that makes me use myself like this
shameless as your wanton *****
needing all you do to me
in ways that you need me to be

....Francesca Anderssen 2016

From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 **** Verses (Amazon)

your softly breathing sleep
allows me to muse on times of love
of how you care to devise for me
such pleasures that I know not of

with softly tested link of chain
that holds me to your loving bed
to know that you are there to
shield me with your tender bonds

before slumber claims my eyes
I want to feel your hand in mine
That I may know that you
Lie close by for all our night.

I need to feel the tight confine
Of my captive self that lies within
full knowing that I am
your slave at every sunrise wake

to do your bidding here by morn
and seek your use of me in ways
that have not yet seen light of day
so you shall know me as your own

but dare I risk your wrath by want
of something in this darkest hour,
and think of all you did to me
that brought me to my frenzy here?

my fingers stray and find such wet
as you in passion full create
with desire for you now so intense
that I cannot but divide myself

and guide with care your sleeping hand
where I can ride it in my thrall
and pillow-stifle screams of need
at thoughts of being used again

your touch though sleeping forces me
into that driving ecstasy
that has become my life with you
with no other than this torment wild

that makes me use myself like this
shameless as your wanton *****
needing all you do to me
in ways that you  need me to be

What is this force that is in me
That drives me now to submit
I cannot understand its power
nor my need of wanting it.

so I seek you out as Master
knowing the pain you will bring
as I beg for the slightest attention
to reduce me to less than a thing

....Francesca Anderssen 2016

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 **** Verses 2016

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 **** 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 ****** here at all
but oh it is so difficult, like that, not to *** 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 *** with six more I’ll have to pay;
right now that seems a bargain fair, I need to *** 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 **** Verses 2017

I am left
in quiet solitude
knowing nothing
of where I am
save my body pressed
against this tree
and the bite of rope

so that I know

I am his naked ****
left here at his whim
bound tight with
rope cutting into
me as I squirm
in futile helplessness
bringing myself such pain

so that I know

I cannot scream
or plead for His release
however it should come
his gag has left me
silent and unknowing
with no sound of him who bound
me thus, naked, alone

so that I know

I cannot see
his blindfold gives me
only blackness and a fear
that it might not be Him
who finds me thus.
that hands that touch me
might not be His.

So that I know

I am his and
that I have given myself
to him to dispose of
as he pleases.
forcing desires from
the very depth of me
with arousal I cannot hide

So that I know

I must listen for footsteps
softly treading on the
fallen leaves around me
and straining against his
ropes will drive me harder
to mark my skin
and make me wet with need of him

So that I know

I want the kiss of
His lips or his lash
to caress me, the hands of
the stranger who will come
and give me what I want
while I am here, so helpless
while I am so tightly bound

so that I know
* Francesca Anderssen 2016

you offer me your whip to kiss.
to wet it with such eagerness
that cannot be disguised
for I am just your wanton ****
who makes her needs so plain
in wanting what you give me now
to be the cause of pain

Why can I not do without
the torment that is you
or torture you inflict on me
in ways I want you to
can there be no end to this
I think that may be so
my flowing juices tell me of
the need I have of you

You are my cruel master now
you own all that I am
there can be nothing more than this
to feed the **** I am
I beg and crave your tortures all
debase myself  to have
yet more of what you force on me
to drive me to oblivion
a suffering that takes me in myself
deeper yet and deeper in
till nothing else seems real
only the thought of all your love
that keeps me here to feel

.....Francesca Anderssen 2016

After I have suffered at your whim
I need this quiet time
to think of what you did to me
to fulfill every need I have
to love you in that way.

I lie and think again of hands
that strayed around me feather soft
A touch so light and barely felt
yet it was as though hot iron had made
to brand those curves new-made
by rope that cuts in places deep.

I felt your kisses find my deepest heart
and made it pound with wanting you
with lips that moved across my skin
driving me to ecstasies I never knew
until you brought me to this secret place
to find our time of such delight.

Such is the theatre of our love,
where we entwine with one another so.
I need again your bonds around me tight
that force me to submit to you
in ways I know I must
be some other than myself
or perish from the loss of you.

Your control is now so absolute
that you no longer
need to touch your slave
only lie close by and
hold her eyes with yours
and **** her with the
softest words that take her mind
to places she had not known
until she followed you.

Such powerful words
that herald all the tortures
yet to come and do things to
her mind that wakes the promise
of your wild imagination
and forces her to crave the
words of discipline that
bind so tight that she cannot
leave the embrace of them.

You my master storyteller
tell her of such things
that were beyond imagining
until her mind was taken there
through the labyrinth of words
you wove to show
all the images of torment that might
be devised to pleasure such as she
into a state of absolute delirium.