Effective Bratting

Erotica, R-18+

Effective bratting
is an artform.

Knowing
how far to push
in order
to be pleasured
with pain.

Knowing
where the line is
between the attainment
of funishment
and true punishment.

Knowing
what rules are meant to be broken
and what rules must be obeyed
then
breaking them anyway.

For the look
for the connection
for the control
for the choice
for the domination
for the submission
for the taming of the will
and proving the inability to do so.

Effective bratting
is the embodiment
of the inherent contradiction
between submission
and freedom.

It is the playing of the game
against oneself.

It is a coy smile,
it is the knowing look.
It is words spoken through gritted teeth,
timed to the beat of a hand on flesh;

‘You may set the rules
but I get to choose
obedience
or fun

Consequences be damned.

Go ahead
punish me.

You know I’ll enjoy it.’

Effective bratting
is a challenge
to another
to somehow
control your chaos
long enough
to make you
choose
submission

---

This poem is from the book, Kink, Volume 3.

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Pleasure City

Erotica, R-18+

Brat
Don’t act shitty
I know you’re guilty
But punishment for punishment’s sake
Would just be a pity
You know I think you’re pretty
And witty
So just give me a moment of tranquility
Then
I’ll ravish you
And your kitty
Pulling hair
And tweaking your titty
Have you pleading
To be allowed just an itty bitty bit of time
Between my words and a bit of butt hitty
Soon
I’ll have you giddy
Toes curled
Wet
Weak at the knees and ready
It’s time to play
And I’m gonna keep you busy
Up all night with me
On a tour of your body
You know what?
From now on
I’ll call you my pleasure city

---

This poem is from the book, Kink, Volume 3.

Read more from the collection, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

I’ll Use My Words

Erotica, R-18+

I’ll use my words
to prompt and to please,
to play with people
on their knees.

To show
to suggest,
to encourage
to request.

I’ll use my words
to help you see,
what it would mean
to truly play free.

To open
to ask,
to command
to bask.

I’ll use my words,
then I use everything else.

---

This poem is from the book, Kink, Volume 3.

Read more from the collection, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Fever Dreams

Fever dreams
Liberate the mind
Boundless and edgeless
Thoughts flow
Skipping between
Ponds of reality
No longer constrained
By rationality
I drift
What once thirsted for stability
Now wants for nothing
But the pretty colours
That seem to hold
All meaning
Within this play
Of consciousness

---

This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

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‘Twas The Day Of Harvest End

Erotica, R-18+

‘Twas the day of Harvest End,
And the festival was in town.
Liquor and laughter ran free
And all sorts of debauchery abound.

The young and the fun
They played a curious game.
If you catch and kiss a maiden,
She’s yours that night to tame.

The girls would run from the ugly,
Avoiding them at all cost.
But when the studs gave them chase
They’d fall and pretend to be lost.

The older women played it differently,
They gathered in curious groups.
Trapping a prospective man,
Then together tying him in loops.

Bound and gagged,
The man pretended to struggle.
A big smile forming under his face,
As he began the first cuddle.

The wisdom of experience
Caused the women to learn.
To only trap a man of great stamina,
If each was to get a turn.

Now there was the curious case
Of old Jimmy McGuffin
Came home from the party
To two girls wanting some lovin.

They were hiding under his sheets,
Just waiting to surprise him.
Bare as the day they were born,
Just hoping to entice him.

But old Jimmy took his time,
He had played this game before,
Despite his age he’d do this well,
And leave those maidens sore.

On the night of Harvest End,
All persuasions are accepted,
With women donning fake beards and
Men in panties expected.

The town square was divided into rooms,
On each door sat careful labels,
‘Pain’, ‘Domination’ and ‘Groups’
Each with toys on pleasure tables.

The night’s pleasures were more than just cardinal,
Indeed the dice and cards ran hot,
With bets ranging from copper pieces,
Up to entire an farming plot.

Circles gathered for the cock fighting,
More still for the quarter staff,
Where combatants fought till concession,
And none attacked by half.

At the feast table sat peasants and the noble,
Mingling freely for the dinner’s length,
Downing mushrooms, riot weed, and haze
Mixed with liquors of varying strength.

But alas all good things must come to a finish,
Even the day of Harvest End.
For the tomorrow the town goes back to planting,
Sowing next year’s dividend.

And until the festival comes again,
Not a word of yesternight is spoken,
The town returns back to normality,
Actively stifling all their fun emotion.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Dominant

Erotica, R-18+

A quiet word,
Will have you kneeling,
Implicit control,
A sensual feeling.

But before we begin,
You must share your limit,
Your kinks and desires,
And what you strictly prohibit.

The truth is clear,
The choice is always yours,
To submit to my will,
To get down on all fours.

Because ‘no’ won’t mean stop,
We are going to explore,
And unless you say ‘red’,
You are giving me more.

Your body is mine,
To bite, spank and ravage,
Taking you as I please,
With the lust of a savage.

I’d say don’t be a brat,
But it is in your nature,
Will you rebel or comply,
Which urge is greater?

You want to be taken,
But not to be shamed,
To push back hard,
And then to be tamed.

I will look into your eyes,
And you will say the words,
‘Do whatever you like sir’
I won’t have you by thirds.

And once we are done,
I will bring you in tight,
With hugs and lotion,
Talking to make sure you are alright.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Play

Watching him play
I disappeared.
And in that space,
The world opened up.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

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