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Lifestyle Poetry

Lyrical, rhyming and passionate words are a beauty to this Lifestyle. Enter into the creative muse, the mind of submissives and Dominants alike. Find just the right words to express how you are feeling from someone who was able to use their inner voices.

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Author: November

Filed in: submission, bondage

i sit here, writing in the flickering candlelight, my wrists and ankles bound by heavy black leather. The supper i made has cooled on the stove top and still B is not home. He had some things He needed to take care of tonight but i am restless without Him. i've yet to eat. It seems my appetite has vanished.

i am very aware of the weight of my bonds. i chose to put them on myself tonight. i needed to feel weighted down, tethered, attached. They are, by turns, comforting and uncomfortable. Like now, every word i type feels as if it is being wrung from my fingertips, so heavy is the weight. Yet when i hear His tapping at the door (He has a key, yet still He knocks) i will feel weightless within their confines. Strange, that, how the mind works.

i bought these restraints for myself; i shopped carefully, looking for the set that i would be pleased to wear on my body. i wish He had bought them for me, but i suspect i am more moved by the wearing of my bonds than He. He trusts that i feel His pull on me and surely considers these cuffs a novelty, an aesthetic whim of mine He permits. And yes, i would be lying if i said i did not love how they looked on my flesh, the blackness of the leather straps interrupting the paleness of my skin, like harsh marks left by a loving Master. It keeps my mind in a submissive place; even my thoughts are kept anchored by their pull.

But what good is it now, to remind myself of my desires, when the supper i made has cooled on the stove and still B is not home.

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