GAMES OF PASSION (Original Poetry)
Games of Passion
Everything is black
His vision obstructed behind the blindfold
Bound tightly over his head muffling the security of sight
Standing naked on the cold concrete floor
His arms stretched upwards
Shackled by chain and locked in place
The room is damp and musty
It’s cool but warmed by heated flesh
Flesh flush with nervous anticipation
Reaching for threads of indication of what is to come
A sound, a scent, a touch or worse
His senses now heightened to the brink of anxiety
Waiting to hear a pin drop
Trying to ignore the rhythmic motion of his heavy breath
Or the pounding of drum pulsing within his chest
A creak of the heavy wooden door marking the entrance
Sends shivers down his back
His ears perk acutely calculating what may come next
The clicking of heels demurely entering the room
Pacing around his vulnerable body
Her stilettos tapping on the cold hard floor play music to his ears
With perfectly manicured fingers she teasingly strokes his chest
Her other hand casually brushing past his exposed manhood
He dare not speak a word and break this powerful silence
He tenses his body knowing what comes next
With a grip on his testicles she asserts with authority
Are you ready for this bitch?
The silence is broken
And with automated response
He robotically answers, yes my Goddess
Stepping away she brushes his flesh once more
This time the smell of leather is in the air
It arouses the lust in his soul as he waits for what is in store
Her heels wander off in the distance
Returning to rest behind his bound form
Anxiety now swaying from fear – he swells with arousal
In a moment lasting for eternity he relaxes with gratitude
And with a swish of air she swings her arm up high
Before bringing it down full force to bear
Then the crack of her whip slashes down with a hiss
It elicits fear and misunderstanding amongst the masses
But for him it is simply the gateway to erotic bliss
Free In Thought, 2016
Photo Credits:
Image 1 and 4 (giphy.com), Images 2,3,5 (pixabay.com)