Whisper of Rope

by f-cynyr ©


My sweet selkie,
the whisper of rope
fills your eyes,
as the wrists and ankles
of your passion
long to be bound.

The answer of rope
pulls you in and
you slither and twist
till I capture your
burning submission.

Your need, so long
misunderstood,
till I tethered you.
Now the desire of bondage
flutters your heart and
throbs your moist flames.

Now you hum and sing
the kiss of cords and cuffs,
rejoicing in the submission
of collar and leash.

Your wrists weep their need
and wail for restraint,
your chest flutters and heaves
for leather.

Your hips plead to be
wrapped in rope,
crave the liberation
of binding.

Through rope and
cuffs, you finally found
a release from your
prison of longing.

Tethered

by f-cynyr ©


You soar the sharp
crisp Halloween air,
tied and tethered,
gliding with the lightness of the
unfettered breeze in this
sharp October.
Grasping the wind,
you slip, tugging and
pulling in space.
Your bondage is the freedom
that unravels your core,
unfettering you to
stretch and expand,
safe and held by
rope and ownership.

Embracing sky and restraints,
you drift in the curls
and ringlets of air,
threatening to tug
too hard, to snap
the shackles of gravity
and yank the taut line from
the Master’s hand.

Now the
terror of wind and
endless sky
recedes with the length
upon length of string
that holds you
moored beyond the
lure of the world,
knowing that the hand
that guides you is Master
of rope and wind and sky.

So, unburdened, fearless,
you sail the air
and conquer the blue,
in the tug and pull of
this Thanksgiving sky,
in the promise that you
are tied and bound
by a Master’s hand that
will hold you tethered
so you can fly.

Violate me.

by f-cynyr ©


Violate my body,
shatter my solitude,
as you break into me.
Lash the longing
of my body,
knot each passion
and tie each dark
unspoken wish.
Give voice to my
shadowed yearnings,
that lurk, dripping
to be released.
Fondle my dreams,
roll them in your mouth
till they dissolve.

Invade me,
steal my will,
cuff my wrists,
chain my ankles,
bind me with your
hypnotic rope and
unfetter me to
float into space.
Bind me to your bed,
roped to your will,
struggling just strong
enough to be held tight.

Play with my desire,
handle my thirst,
fill me with your
rigid dominance and then
flog and whip my
intimate vanity.
Fill me up and
spill over me your white
liquid gift,
then bruise my heart.
Use your rope and
ensnare my body,
tie my hands and feet,
fasten me to your hunger,
truss me to your raging need,
ligature my heart, then
stretch me across your appetite.

Draw welts across
my back,
whisper to my skin,
the pleasure of the pain.
Give voice to the
ache that twists
me to flame,
let the falls of the
flogger kiss away
my pretence.

Invade my body,
peel me down to
my throbbing submissive
center, then take away the
shedding skin.
Finally, enslave me to
set me free.

The Gift

by f-cynyr ©


I was incomplete,
I drifted and wallowed
in the empty
encounters in bleak
collisions of the thud
and smack of floggers and
paddles.
I was lost in the
hollow domination of
empty submissions, of fleeting
slaves and other impostors of
leather.

There was only boredom,
a listless time as my
eyes and hands and whips
sought more than
bare, blank backs,
of bare, blank faces.

There was despair in
my encounters,
nothing but fools and fakes
and weekend bottoms,
seeking only my
cuffs and ropes, and knots,
desiring only my flogging, and
spanking and binding.

My arm grew heavy,
my ropes grew slack,
I questioned the worth
of my mastery,
I questioned the value
of my dominance.

I was empty of the gift
that completes,
I was empty of the offering
that was beyond the asking.
I was lacking that true submissive
that would render all of her own accord.

But you, in your submission,
bowed and surrendered.
You, in your submission,
knelt and crawled
and gave to me your
very essence.

You came to me
kneeling not from
training
or punishment
or ancient house rules.

You came to me
freely bound,
bound and tied,
not by my will
or disciplining hand,
not by signed contract
or negotiation
or ritual,
not by discipline
nor the cruel strikes
of brutal training.

You came to me,
not reduced by pain
nor diminished by humiliation
nor cowered by sadism.

You came to me
and knelt and bowed
freely, willingly, lovingly.
You came to me
and rendered unto me
the gift beyond asking,
the treasure beyond taking.

You gave to me
the golden core of your
being that fulfills you in
the giving and
completes me in the accepting.