A Ship Without Her Rudder

A ship without her rudder,
Without her compass,
Losing her North, lost, floating without direction.
She's strong and can weather
The storm, without a doubt,
But she'll remain lost,
No way to find her home.
So a sub without her Dom.
She's strong, but without her
Rudder, her compass, her North,
Her way home is lost at sea.
Hear this lesson well, my friend,
If you choose a Dom to be,
Be there, guide your sub,
Be her rudder, her compass, her North,
She gave you her submission,
She trusted your pledge to
Protect and care for her.
Protect her from the tempest
Threatening to crash her
To the dark shores of confusion.
Help her always find her way home.

~CWylde © 2016

Tables Turned

Innocence has no place in her heart and mind,
Her only purpose is to capture his soul
And make him take her to his dark sin.
The earlier the better, not after midnight, her patience grows thin.

She haunts his mind with her temptress smile,
She’s the Mistress of the art of seduction.
He, only a scapegoat, a pawn in her enticing game,
Tonight the wicked rendezvous will build his flame.

She waits in the shadows of her Sorceress lair,
Black silk caressing curves, hugging her secret wetness.
Candlelight gleams as he enters the door,
She turns with a low animal growl as she kneels to the floor.

His stops at the shadowy entrance, gazes over her body,
She holds her breath waiting for his claim.
She does not know his intent is to tame her
Her game gives way to his ultimate power.

She offers herself to his altar of sin,
He smirks as he watches her bravado crumble.
He stalks her as a predator stalks his prey,
His stride is certain, he’ll take her this day.

She becomes his in one single touch,
His growl in her ear releases her resolve.
Her skin burns like fire with passion’s yearning,
She begs him to master her, from which there’s no returning.

He is her Dominant, she his submissive,
There’s no turning back to reclaim the Mistress.
Her submission is his treasure, her deepest gift
To a man who will love her, protect her, to new heights he’ll lift.

He asks if it's worth this release of her power,
Can she become what he deeply desires?
Her only answer begs him to make his claim,
After all, she says, I’ll never be young again.

~CWylde © 2016

You Simply Are

There's a scene in a movie in which one of my favorite actor's character is describing the woman he loves. He says, "I love her. The sun rises and sets with her."

I always thought how amazing that would be to have someone feel that way about me.

I don't know if you feel that same way, but I do know this.

When the sun rises,  you are the first person I think about.
When the sun sets, you are the last person I think about.
You are there each moment in between.
You are there even in the rain.
You are there when dark clouds threaten my skies.
You are there when the sun bursts through again.
Quite simply, I take a breath because you are there. 
You are my breath, my soul, my spirit.
You?
Simply are!

~CWylde © 2015
Original Photography by Freddy Camargo  (c) 2013

The High

He enters striding with confidence,

Knowing she can’t see his blind seduction.

She knows it’s time to push his limits,

His jaw sets in controlled detonation.

In one terrifying moment, regret hits her mind, 

She realizes she’s awakened the beast 

From his raving slumber.

His patience she’s pushed,

Tis her bad habit he’s seen.

His eyes say it all without a word,

His soul of fire rages within.

His commands low and deliberate,

She cannot resist his deep dark sin.

Waiting for the first strike,

He taunts, but nothing happens.

She glances begging for his leather,

Her racing heart quickens,

The strike hits hard in a fountain of flames,

She steels herself against the pain.

Not many could withstand the fire felt so strong,

But she is impervious to its bite and sting.

Tis a peaked perfection to her carnal desires,

She feels alive as her passions build higher.

Tears flowing, she knows she’s branded

With his mark, his touch, no longer stranded

In the pit of her own private hell,

He’s carried her through the molten well.

One touch, you’ll see how the interplay works,

Tis the exchange of power, the unwavering thirst

For strength and control, tis her desires

That feed the fuel of his own lustful fires.

A stepping stone was reached in their bond.

An agreement made, a contract signed 

In the marks on her body and the gleam in his eye.

No pride could he steal, no shame in her mind

For this is the power, the bond, the high.

~CWylde © 2015

Unholy Torment

Bound, captured,
Caught in his lair.
His voice soft,
Wicked tones,
Knowing he will not spare 
My aroused body from
His dark carnal lust.
The feel of leather
As it traces my curves,
Breath catches,
So much to learn.
Unholy torment,
Taunting, teasing,
Sinful delight.
First strike sends chills,
First plead, his will,
Second strike,
Urge builds,
Third, fourth, fifth strike,
Craving mounts,
Reaching the nexus
Of unbridled desire.
Needing release,
Begging it so,
His quiet answer - no.
Leather on skin,
Tracing once more,
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
Pleading him to enter in.
That moment,
That burst
Of final climax,
Spiraling into his
Carnal salacious acts.

~CWylde © 2015

 

In His Eyes

Entering this dream divine,
Plummeting into the vortex
Of obsession finding deeper
Meaning in his possession.
Dangerous dreams take me
Into his world, a far cry from hell
In a rush to be his Good Girl.
Takes me from a sleepwalk
Where the distilled essence
Fades into his dark presence.
As I build my world around
His power, his commands,
I finally see my beauty,
Buried deep within,
Come aglow in his eyes
Of perfected love.

~CWylde © 2015

A Few More

I took a journey last night,

The journey took me to a hiding place,

One that I hoped would set things right.

Instead, I found thick silence around me.

The scarlet hours engulfed me

In luminous darkness,

My soul quaked.

I begged for mercy to no avail.

Indeed, my cries brought no relief.

There in the shadows he stood,

I stopped and wondered if I could

Push aside my fears and

Let him into my locked up heart.

Can I withstand a second chance?

Will the everlasting flame burn bright,

Or will it simply die out?

I pray these aren’t just symptoms

And lies told to soothe and warm.

My love is true and unconditional

With no slight of hand tricks or

False promises told with sly

Innuendoes and heartless cruelty.

I’ll take the chance and let him in.

His smile says so much.

Indeed, a few more moments,

A touch, a kiss, yes.

It’s all worth it again.

~CWylde © 2015

Misery Does NOT Love Company

I am convinced that there are people who enjoy their story of misery and replay it over and over until it is such an engrained part of their life that to see others happy is something that must be torn down and destroyed.

I get it! I get sad and lonely and fearful and miserable myself. And watching other people’s happiness is sometimes just too much to bear. But I draw the line in writing veiled words through my poetry to tear someone down. I draw the line writing innuendoes of bitterness and anger.

To those who seem to need to perpetuate their own story of misery and project it on me? You have no idea of what I have endured at the hands of others. You have no idea what obstacles I have overcome to be me today.

That doesn’t matter, though. Want to know why? Because I have risen out of my story stronger and willing to fight for what I love and fight to be me.

So, you can wallow in your own self misery and cry to your poor-me-look-what-I-have-to-live-with words of pity. As for me? I choose to live strong, love powerful, love freely, and love me!

Wicked Desires

Dancing in the moonlight skyclad,

Moon beams caress each curve,

Intent to drive him mad.

Fire dances with soft glows,

Skin glistens as the heat grows.

He sits and watches me begin

My primal Raqs Baladi to

The rhythm of the Doumbek beat within.

Hips swaying slowly,

Undulating, Moving to and fro,

Arms held high in abandon,

Hair wildly billowing, eyes aglow

In this churning current of passion.

Drawing in the moon through

The growing erotic pyre.

I twirl and swirl, swaying

Closer and closer to he

Who would have me as

His own wicked desire.

My eyes lock on his

As I dance to the rhythm

Of this urgent collision.

Hips gyrating as Maya Hips

Captivate him as he licks his lips.

Closer and closer, I feel his

Quickened breath as my hips dance

The perfect figure eight meant to entrance.

Just grazing his leg as I tease even closer,

Breasts hang in front of his lips,

He’s losing his composure.

Chest raising and arching,

I see his response and straddle one leg,

Twirl and swirl, a throw of my head,

A wicked laugh as my hair swipes his face

With the scent of jasmine hung in space.

Still gazing into his eyes, daring and undaunted,

Playing the gypsy sorceress, wildly wanton.

Twirling and swirling, the beat

Throbs faster, blood starts racing.

I laugh once more, my core blazing.

Swirling round and round,

Carnal lust raising a fever,

Back facing, arching to view him,

Ass shaking with abandoned fervor.

Swirling and twirling,

Raising my powers,

Beaconing him to enter

My sin filled tower,

Quench my insatiable fires,

Take me now, my Sir,

With your wicked desires.

~CWylde © 2015 

Love Ever After

Life became smooth, kind,
Blissful, in fact, tears almost gone.
Without the phantom in my mind
I knew I was moving on.
Without warning, I stumbled upon
The broken cage that still held
The broken shards of my heart,
The shattered pieces when I fell apart.
There in the memory corner,
Lay tear stained pages,
Tattered and torn,
My own frayed edges,
Battered and worn.
The cage door slammed behind me,
I swear I heard the cackles of childish glee,
And the drop of an old rusty key.
My heart screamed, begged,
When I realized I had been living
With ghosts of love gone awry,
Merely existing, life denied.
My pleas to manifest silence
Were my own feeble effort
To let the ghosts die.
Trying to be honest,
Crying out in the darkened shadows,
I knew I had paid my penance,
There must be a tomorrow.
And there you were,
Tall and strong, offering refuge,
From this nightmarish storm.
The cage door flung open
With just one word, one touch.
Can I dare to take your hand?
Do I dare to venture out
Where hearts breaking even
Is a not a game of chance,
But a gift of sacrificial romance?
Can I let you into my dark room
Where Fenrir lurks in never ending gloom?
Do I dare to initialize what your
Eyes tell me is love so pure?
I'll give you my trust,
I'll give love a chance,
I know I must.
Believing this is more
Than mere carnal lust
That dies and withers
And leaves my heart
Once again battered and bruised.
Enter with care, my love.
Be gentle and tender,
You're still the one to whom
My soul shall render
The treasure of love,
Love ever after.

~CWylde ©2015

Good Girl

Kneeling, waiting for instructions,

Anticipating your carnal design,

Knowing I am safe and under your protection,

In my core, I feel the chords align.

You come to me gently, tenderly,

Silk threads blindfold,

Each stroke and tease, need rises eagerly,

You quiet me, I feel rope enfold,

Binding me, constraining me, all the while

Whispering, “Are you my Good Girl?”

I sense your pride, I feel your smile,

This, Sir, has become my world.

Take me into your arms,

Begin your magic, begin your play,

First touch of leather brings no alarms,

Tis my desire to please, show me your way.

Teach me, guide me, mark me as yours.

Push my boundaries with each strike,

Release my battles, my inner wars.

Tears flow, you’ve opened the dike.

Skin flushed, breathing harder,

Yearning, craving, begging for release,

Edging to the brink of disaster,

Please, Sir, bring me peace.

Sensing your fire, holding on longer,

Opening wider, building with intensity,

Feeling the rise of your hunger,

Lust’s rage shows its immensity.

It’s ache, its roar, its fury,

Moving together, thrust for thrust,

Orgasmic screams no longer buried,

Rising higher and higher, control I trust,

Riding the waves, let this begin.

Hearing your primal growl,

Feeling the release within,

Hold tight to me, my Sir,

Don’t let me fall,

My body reeling, mind in a blur,

For you, I give my all.

Breathing slowed, sweat mingling,

Your eyes put me in a swirl,

Trembling under your power, tingling,

Today, was I your Good Girl?

                                                     

~CWylde © 2015

Breathless Wonder

Listen deeper to the
Breathless wonder of
His voice, his commands.
In this, his love amplified
Through the mark of his claim.
Warm hands touch
The core of you,
Aching anticipation
Begs for release,
As he uses his master's touch
Taking you higher
Than you can remember.
Do you recall the first
Wave of his greedy passion,
And through it all
His love was clear?
No hiding behind a mask.
With each and every task,
He is there, always protecting,
Ever watchful, ever tender.
He holds the power to control,
He's claimed you, body and soul.
And when he takes you past
The stars and higher,
He does not falter,
But will let you down easy
As you learn his lessons,
And listen even deeper
To this breathless wonder,
This bond that carries you home.

~CWylde ©

When True Love Died

She stood alone as day turned to dusk,

Reliving the horrors of the kinsmen’s sword thrusts.

Her lover silent now, hidden from clear view,

Her spirit strove to find courage anew.

Her thoughts spun round and round

Craving his fortress built on solid ground.

The brownshirts came that dark, lonely day,

Meted punishment to all who dared speak

Of lover’s words and artistry,

And slayed the Jewels in beauty and poetry.

She swore to exact revenge, to refuse

To give in to the gods of the ruse

Of fairness and justice, instead she

Swore to confuse the powers that be.

She lit a lone candle to find her way

Through that dark, dreary vile day.

A promise made, an oath keep she would,

They would eat the ruins of their own brood,

For him, today she would find glory in the hour.

Today, they would tumble from their ivory tower.

Raising her sword, she traveled on the wind,

Cutting, slicing through the hearts of her kin.

Her love was forbidden, her love was a sin,

But this day, they would feel her wrath,

For them that spilt blood, no splendor in the grass.

For those were the ones that kept her from him,

Those were the ones that would not see the next day.

Today, her true love to her would return,

No longer would her sorrowful heart burn.

She longed for the touch of the one whose love was true,

For the one who willingly carried her through

The lonely hours of heartbreak and pain,

In this she knew there was never shame.

She found him broken, battered, bleeding

In the damp, cold prison there all alone.

As she lay there holding him, pitifully weeping.

She would rather die herself than see him gone.

To no one in particular she cried,

As her love took his last breath and died.

“I will cut myself down right here and now,

On my love’s soul, this I vow!”

She fell on her sword in this her final act,

Knowing that in this, she kept her pact.

And on that dark, dreary day when true love died,

The bluebird sat in the prison window and cried.

~CWylde  ©

(written in response to Twitter poetry prompts from May 8, 2015. Thank you to #wordcreations #Magick_Words #HomoAquarius #GeekVerses #VerseReversal #ASymLife #DSPoetry #HeartSoup