Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kai May 24
Her master towers over her with his hefty might.
His eyes pierce through the shadows.
Commanding and bold, he startles her.
However, she capitulates to his aura.

She succumbs to his will, a willing slave.
Confined by his power, she cannot behave.
His words are tender, his touch like a feather,
she pines for his control, her soul in his hand.

In the dungeon of rapture, they explore their appetite.
Her master, like a bat, hovers over the dim light.
Sweeps her with his wings to a waltz of submission.
And takes her to the ride of darkness and delight.

A coating of fear decorates her face.
He surprises her with acts that leave her afraid.
She is hesitant to continue her master’s calling.
But her body is dissimilar, peachy, and pulsating.

Her master takes her on a trip of ****** events.
Where she gasps with fright, moans with pain,
and pleasures herself to the sound of the rain.
He takes what he wants; she surrenders it all.

He puts her in her place with words of degradation.
Then showers her with warmth and affection.
Her master kisses her, just like aftercare.
In each other’s arms they find solace in times of despair.
Master explores his slave.
Jeremy Betts May 17
Most people get the benefit of the doubt
"Eventually they'll figure it out"
What the helll's that all about?
I'm expected to master it in an instant or I'm out

©2024
George Krokos Aug 2023
If we sing the Master’s praises
with a sincere and loving heart
the fire of love inside us blazes
and so then we don’t feel apart.
____
From 'The Quatrains' ongoing writings since the early '90's.
THY, WORDS

SEASONS  EVERY GREAT MEN

THAT GROWS IN TIME.
Mark Wanless Jun 2023
dad original
one master of who i be
sorry i am free
Ylzm Apr 2022
Only the strong
     can be pierced by the sharp sword of truth
Only the strong
     walk unarmed unafraid into the fire
Only the strong
     carry the weak and shield the hapless
For strong is its own master
     never servant to mere powers
Madame Vai Apr 2022
Cast out the chorus
that tell of dreams
of a life fulfilled
restricted
and less

Naked
I feel it
on my skin
the freedom to enjoy
myself

No fears
No judgements
No hidden spirits
tormenting my existence
to tell me lies
and divide

Lets abandon this
sail on flying ships
hedonistic
feverish

be the me
I see in my dreams
the animal
the master
Goddess incarnate
Shofi Ahmed Dec 2021
The day on a high
reaches the peak
over the pyramid.
Shrouded in twilight
now tucked in light
pushes the envelope.
The whole panache of stars
came out in the pitch dark.
The North Star is on the way
oh do me a favour
I will tell you why.

Veil the angle of dawn
in the black shades of the night.
There are dark caves
even inside the pyramid
scientists, trained eyes
yet to tread on that way.

Put on it only an instance of your kohl
the daylight is already a burnt mole.
Light in the wrap in the night
your muslin veiled silken moonlight
is enough to find the tuberose’s earth.

If the tucked away sun crops up
once again over the morning’s rose petals.
Again it will dive deep into the angle
after an angle in the black hole of the night.
A far cry from the glowing firefly
eyeing blindfolded behind the moon
perfectly beyond every looking star.
Until the master arts in silk black finds the true pencil
not in visualising but catching the views of the sunrise
through the lens of the rose pollens’ kohl-eyes.
Mark Wanless Nov 2021
life ain't the master
of me no longer i tell
it what i will do
Next page