A Mug of Me
Stiffer than a Shot of Espresso

A Slave to His Female Owner

2005-05-12
A Slave to His Female Owner


To obey you,
To submit to you,
To experience
For you,
And to look up at you
And see you smile down at me.

When I kneel down before you,
Kneel in silence at your feet,
And bow deeply to you,
Humbly to you,
And wait
And obey
And place myself to suffer in
Your savage, loving flame.

I look up at your eyes.
I see a tiger
In your eyes.
I listen to your whip.

And my world is all about pain.

Your left hand lies in a shadow.
The riding crop you hold points down.
Everything I'll ever be
Resonates for you.
And you purr.

I love obeying you.
Doing things for you.
Doing stuff
Being stuff.
Just anything for you.

At least I wish I could do anything
And be anything for you.
Be your super slave,
Super-duper slave.
Slave extraordinaire for you.

I would fly like a model plane
Remote-controlled by you.
Endure a thousand lashes
Or a trillion volts
For you

I cannot.
I cannot.
Please take me anyway.
Here I am all grounded
And all fragile as a man.

And I love you.
I adore you.
Please let me all the way.

I lie abed waking,
Or in front of the tube waking,
At two in the morning.
Or something in the morning.
I cannot sleep for dreams.

I cannot sleep for dreams about
Your eyes and arms
And words.
Your commands.
I adore your commands.

I love obeying your commands.
I do not really care
Exactly what the orders are.
But that's a lie.
I do in fact care.
Do in fact care.

But I don't really care that much.
I want to please you.
You.
You you you.
Obedience is the means.

You and I share a secret.
It is interesting secret.
The truth is ours.

Say we're eating out.
We're ordering the food.
And it is my turn to do motion of the mouth.

In what aspires to be a debonair voice,
I say... I say,
'I would like some more white wine'.

The waiter replies that that is fine.
And then he bows.
Then you capture my gaze.

And I notice that you are smiling.
Somebody else bowed not long ago.
Laughter in your eyes.

And when we finally land at home,
You shake snow off
At the door.

And you look bleakly at you boots.
And lick your lips.
And I fall to my knees.

Listening to: green day

Reading: mutineer

Feeling: creative

9:13 p.m. ::
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