Take A Walk

BDSM, Erotic Poetry, Kink, Poems, Poetry, Sex

Take a walk inside my mind before you wander round my body.

Earn my trust and know my strength if you intend to own me properly.

Let me know that I am wanted before I give myself completely.

When you touch me, make me feel it, make me want more, make me need it.

Take me gently before you hurt me; touch my soul then give me pain.

Restrain me just to free me, show me all the things I crave.

I will be a willing vessel; I will give you all that’s mine,

If I’m wanted. If I’m needed. If you’re there inside my mind.

A Poem About Submission

BDSM, Erotic Poetry, Erotica, Kink, Poems

Take me to that place
Where my mind is not my own
Where the colours are more vivid
And the music has more tone
Where my senses all evaporate
And all that’s left behind
Are the pictures that you choose to paint
On the walls inside my mind

Let me drift on placid waters
Let me hang on crescent moons
Let me wander in it endlessly
Don’t let it end too soon

Take me to that place
Where I do not need to think
Write your stories on my body
Let your touch become the ink
Take me far away from here
Let the world outside us cease
Let me take your pain and give you tears
Our bitter sweet release

Mine

BDSM, Erotic FIction, Erotica, Writing

The sky is beautiful from up here. Sentimental shades of pink and gold streak across the fading blue and she knows she’s only a few minutes from darkness. Soon the sky will go black, the stars will glitter in their thousands and half the city beneath her will go to sleep while the other half begins to wake; the nocturnal half. The ones that inspire and create, that dance and sing, the ones for whom the daylight holds no interest. The city is always more exciting at night.

She stands here, with the sliding glass doors of the balcony wide open, the cool breeze of the evening air brushing against her skin. She doesn’t care that she’s completely naked; some four stories up she’s quite out of sight, and for the creatures of the night that stir below, she is the least interesting thing they will see this evening. For those few that do notice the svelte, bare skinned figure at the door of the balcony, well, they’re in for a show aren’t they?

He should be here by now. He said 7pm. It’s now 8pm and the sky has turned a magnificent midnight blue colour. Any earlier excitement she was feeling in anticipation of this evening is now turning into annoyance, but she has resisted the urge to text or call, he knows where she was. He knows she is waiting. He is doing it on purpose.

By 8.15pm, the click of the hotel room door opening did nothing to startle her composure. She stands still on that very spot and listens to the sound of footsteps across luxurious carpet, a jacket being removed and laid carefully on the bed, his breath in her ear as he joined her where she stood.

“You’re late.” She doesn’t move.

“I know.” He doesn’t care.

“You’ve been drinking,” she says, smelling the indisputable but subtle aroma of alcohol as he plants gentle kisses from beneath her ear, down her neck, and across her shoulder.

“I’ve had a couple.”

As his lips find their way back to that spot behind her ear that sends charges of electricity throughout her entire body, she tries to maintain her irritation at his lateness, but the almost imperceptible tilt of her head and not so well hidden hitch in her breathing is enough to give her away.

His hands find her waist, sliding slowly down to the curves of her hips. Strong hands on soft skin; her body is already beginning to betray her and her annoyance is fading by the second.

“Close the door,” he says gently, allowing the back of his left hand to move upwards along her spine, reaching under her hair to the nape of her neck.

“Where were you?” She asks, closing her eyes tightly, trying to focus on anything but his touch.

His hand immediately closes around a clump of her hair and he yanks hard, repeating himself with more conviction.

“Close the door.”

She resists the temptation to exhale audibly and instead bites her lip and follows his command, sliding the glass door closed slowly as the sound of laughter, chatter, and bustle on the street below gradually fades to silence with the click of the lock.

Somehow the quietness of the room seems so much louder than the noises she has just shut out. A deafening stillness that is heavy with anticipation. His hands continue their journey over her body, tracing lines he knows so well like he’s discovering them for the first time; gently, carefully.

“Hands on the glass.”

….To be continued…in my new Amazon Kindle title, Taboo!

Sweet Agony

BDSM, Erotic Poetry, Poems, Poetry

When you play with the line between pleasure and pain
The torture and ecstasy, again and again
My spirit is willing, my soul’s for the taking
My mind’s not my own, my body is shaking
Like ripples on water, you tease at your will
Make me rise like the tide as you take your fill
Complete me, consume me, then leave me to crave
Unnerving desire; your good little slave

The slap and the bite, the sting and the ache
The burning, the quenching; what music you make
With your touch, and your taste, and your words in my ear
Leave me wanting, and wanton, and euphoric with fear
In the juxtaposition, in the light and the dark
On my mind and my body, leave no question, leave your mark
The crescendo you weave is engraved on my soul
Take my all, take my everything, take me once, take me whole

Fifty Shades of Grey?

Bared to You, Erotic FIction, Erotica, Fifty Shades of Grey, Writing

Well, this wouldn’t be much of a kinky blog about Erotica without at least some reference to the global behemoth that is Fifty Shades of Grey, would it?

So here’s my opinion…and it’s just my opinion, mind, let’s not get all uppity about it…

No, I did not start writing Erotica because I read Fifty Shades; I have written in this genre for some time, I just haven’t had the nerve to publish it.

Yes, I do owe EL James a debt of gratitude for bringing this genre to the mainstream and giving me the balls to actually put my stuff out there.

By mainstream, I mean, supermarket book shelves. I have, since it was released, fought ardently against all those that jump up and down and claim Fifty Shades of Grey brought Erotica to the forefront and ‘allowed’ women to read filth. Mills and Boon did that YEARS ago! What EL James managed, and quite successfully, was to allow Erotica to sit proudly and prominently on every shelf in every bookstore and supermarket across the land.

For the record, when I read the books, I enjoyed them; I had to put a few of my issues regarding the over use of repetitive adjectives, verbiage, and sloppy writing to the back of my mind (for example, he needs to stop ‘cupping her sex’, and her clothes ‘pool at her feet’ far more than necessary), but I enjoyed them, on the whole.

My opinion, however, is that there are better pieces of BDSM related Erotica that could have been the flagship for this genre. I know how she done it; she created the perfect fairy-tale to filth ratio, with just enough cliché to make it lovable and just enough taboo to make it scandalous. Genius, really, if you ask me. But, let’s not pretend it is a literary masterpiece, because it isn’t.

I would much rather have seen Silvia Day’s, Bared to You, hit the big screen than Fifty Shades, it has a lot more depth and darkness.

My point is, Fifty Shades of Grey is what it is, slating it will not make it go away, or change the opinion of the masses, but I would recommend that you don’t make it your point of reference when it comes to Erotica, and certainly not when it comes to BDSM.