I sleep with my flogger.
My beautiful flogger.
Soft leather, gentle brown,
it was a present.
A REAL present.
Not just a length of
hardware chain,
this was a gift.
He had it made for me.
Just for me.
What's not to like?
Oh.
Right.
That.
It hurts.
He brings it down
upon my butt,
he brings it down
upon my breasts
and makes me scream and moan.
Still.
I love it.
And trying, you might think,
to make me drop my guard,
the sadist treats me like a child,
indulging this one whim
and lets me hold
against my pale bare flesh
this handmade torture tool.
So now a leather teddy bear,
more like a squid or octopus
than Paddington or Pooh,
sleeps up against my belly
and my crotch, and fills
my heart with smiles as
with the cats I fall asleep
and dream of who I am.
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6 comments:
Oh no honey.. it is not too weird. I too just described my love of the flogger briefly in a post. The smell of the leather intoxicates me. when used gently, well the flogger is sensual as the tails trace across your flesh. Yes it can sting and it can push the breath right out of you. No that is not strange at all. I just may sleep with my flogger tonight as well.
Definitely not!!
(Um, my word verification was exusered, that's weird I reckon).
xxx milla
not too weired. sweet :)
not weird. just human.
i have the ring he gifted me with. and the sweatshirt he took off his back to warm me. i hang on to these things. let them warm me and fill me when i start to feel alone.
a beautiful hand made flogger made just for you. who wouldn't want to snuggle and cherish such a gift.
great minds think alike. it's your connection to the one who wields it.
hugs.
What's really funny is that I used that title purely for want of anything else. I posted the poem to FetLife and just used the first line as a title.
mina- So? Did you sleep with it? I do maybe remember him drawing it gently across my back. I think... and when he left me he draped it across me. I struck myself with it once tust to check that it really does hurt. It did, but not that much, as I didn't hit very hard. And i know he didn't flog me as hard as he could have. I'm not sure how much was because his need to hurt wasn't as great that day and how much was knowing that he could get for himself the suffering he needed from me without hurting me so much that I would go into an odd state of mind. He puts a lot of thought into things.
milla - I really should start collecting the words I get and knit them into a poem.Adventures in word verification...
mamacrow - you are right, of course. It IS sweet, that is exactly how it feels.
baby girl - I still sleep in the man's white dress shirt that the philosopher brought me the first time we met. I can't stop.
cutesy pah - yes. There is a connection. An interaction which I can't completely characterize and probably shouldn't even try. How about - we inspire each other.
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