A meal with no name.

I feel a rumbling in my tummy.

What do I have that’s yummy?

There’s not a thing to eat inside this house.

except, perhaps, a single mouse.

There’s not a single scrap of grain or meat,

not one single, solitary, thing to eat.


The cow out in the pasture?

I’d have to run much faster.

The chicken in the coop?

I’d end up covered in their poop.

Perhaps a fish from in my pond?

The time for that is, surely long gone.


What I crave, it’s much, much, more sweet.

I have it in a room, it’s just down the hall. 

It’s a secret that I keep,

a whole room full of meat.


I used to try to name them,

sometimes try to train them.

Now it’s more than enough amusement,

just to get to maim them.


Another grumble from my stomach and my thinking becomes clear.

Yes, that will be it, one of them will be my midnight treat!

These men I keep hidden in fear, in secret, and in such defeat.

Yes! Them, these men, one of them will become my meat.


Now, just how to choose?

Do I select my meal by their health?

Maybe by their wealth?

Maybe by their looks?

Or who’ll be more fun to cook?


Being that they’re numbered, maybe I’ll just choose #3.

#1 was a huge error, he was my first mistake. 

He died of a blow to the heart, a blow with momentum and strength,

he died in the moonlight, a blow with a stake.

#2 was miscalculated and I judged all wrong,

he turned out to be too loud.

I came to the conclusion to burn him into a thick, black cloud.

But #3, yes he will work fine. He was fit, and willing, he’d always been a favorite, 

he would do just fine.


Now that I have chosen, 

What is there left to do? 

I’ll have to think, to gather my wits, 

so as to still see sleep before 2.


A list of ingredients, 

a list of preparations, 

a recipe of sorts, 

a list full of appetizing actions.

I could hardly wait to get started.


He’ll scream through the tenderization, 

I’m sure he’ll still be aware as I begin butchorizatioin.

I’ll leave him to marinate whole while I’m preparing my spices.

I’m sure there’s a more merciful way of being killed, 

but my strong point has never been niceness.


While he simmers with my roux

I’ll be dancing over my stew.

And while my heart palpitates,

I can hardly wait!

This meal has filled my dreams, 

it’s always felt obscene.

This aroma ignites my senses,

the meal is finally real!


Now, finally, while I’m dining, 

on this stew that feels divining, 

It feels so close to fate,

because this is the most tasty stew I’ve ever ate.



Collar me, she says…

I’m stunned by her beauty. 

Her age doesn’t match her at all.

the things I could do to this woman…

“oh, so you’re curious about fisting? I have tiny hands. let’s give it a whirl”.

My hands are covered in her wet and My spit.

I rub her to almost, and with My tongue I trace her heart.

Our grace disappears and we become primal.

She’s so close to cuming and I just say “No, not yet, doll face…”

and then I keep rubbing, I keep stretching…

she gasps.

is it pleasure or pain?

Probably both…

…again, I have tiny hands…

I’m in up to my wrist and shes writhing, she begging…

“Oh, Mistress, PLEASE, may I cum yet?”

…and finally, I’ve found that inside sponge, the one with the goods…

“Yes, princess, you are free to cum now”

She writhes, I work my hand, careful to keep it angled correctly so I don’t get my wrist broken if she sits up.

I’m working and shes screaming, “Oh, HAIL MARY! HAIL MARY!”

…and then she cums…

Its a very erotic thing to be arm deep in a beautiful womans cunt…

Then I’m covered in it.

It’s on the walls behind Me.

I had her on the edge for an hour, she was full.

She squirts…ejaculates…whatever you want to call it…

I think it’s the tears of angels crying for our souls.

something so taboo…

something she needed.

a release.

from her vanilla and normal husband…

Something that makes you think you need to go to confession. 

She’s found her space,

the sub space.

and I gently pull out my fist.

I have cum up to My face.

She’s smiling…

I’m  cradling her. ‘

talking to her softly about what a good girl she is.

and she shakes, 

she still has the aftershocks of cumming.

She’s adorable like this.

almost twice My age,

but she looks like an angel to Me.


Beyond the red…

It’s latex.
It’s steel.
it’s grip.
It’s pierce.
It’s wet.
It’s cruel.
It’s welcomed.
It’s deserved.
It’s unfathomable.
It’s Love.
It’s deep.
It’s profound.
It’s narcissism.
It’s personal.
It’s substantial.
It’s clear.
It’s clean.
It’s pure.
It’s authentic.
It’s simple.
It’s immaculate.
It’s unsoiled.
It’s exquisite.
It’s delicate.
It’s pleasing.
This comes from the center.
This comes from the soul.
This comes from my being.
This comes from control.
I’ll bring you to central.
Ill bring you to close.
I’ll bring you to peace.
I’ll bring you back home.


Now I lay me down to sleep, 

hands clutching hair,

breath sucking deep.


If I have killed,

in my sleep, I pray the jailer…

my soul will reap.


now fast asleep, I hear the cry.

i haven’t the strength to quiet this night.


in site it seems a gory mess,

but in my heart I know it’s a test.


The cold of this pillow doesn’t replace your touch,
My voice rattling my body just makes me miss you too much.
That happy couple on the TV screen,
Your actions telling me how much I mean,
Your sure touch handling me with care,
My mind wants to call you,
But my heart doesn’t dare.

This lonely plays on my conscience,
I know I deserve this,
Just alone with this solitude,
I’ll try my very best,
I won’t brood.

But what keeps this happening,
I’m sure its one of many things.
I can’t narrow this down,
Without knowing you’re around.

My strong safety net,
You won’t let me forget.
That night your soul touched mine,
A different place,
A different time.

But now that I’m weary,
I long for you near me,
A prince that does shine,
But is he even mine?