Getting Lost

It seems to be the week for getting lost
Putting on a cheery countenance
Making it so no one knows how it goes
They don't seem to want to understand
So don't show anyone an open hand
Find a place to hide that is very, very good
How do they always know just where to look
Looking to find a better place, leave no trace
Cover my tracks, be very quiet, no looking back
There will come a time when they will rue the day
So for now let them have their way, ignore them
I will keep it all in me, hidden so they can’t see
Some day soon, the boogieman will come for them
Then we will see who rules the day, not them, just me
The boogieman is my best friend, so be nice to me
Or it will be you who is getting lost, not me, no not me

©Saroya Poirier 2008

I am Yours

Body and soul I am yours
Ready, willing, need you
I cannot rest, I wait for you
Bury your face against my breasts

The dew inside an inviting scent
Taste, touch quiver in delight
Desire fills me, in need of you
I am yours for this while

Lie down, relax, let me touch
Make you hard, stoke and bite
Watch you squirm, use my tongue
Work my way up, kiss the tip

On all fours move slowly up
Do not hurry here I come
Slide my breasts against your chest
Rising up tease and torment

Slick and wet sliding now
Squeeze shiver rock sway
Feel you deep feel you wide
Love the feel of you inside

Hurry not let me ride
Let me dream hold you tight
Let me have this small delight
Bring me screaming in the night

As I wait, as I watch
Wait for you to come this night
Wait to give you all of me
Instead, I cry tears slide cheeks wet

Sighing crying dying inside
To be held, to be loved this is hell
More tears, fears needs fading


©Saroya Poirier, April 2008

Scorned

I want to rip him limb from limb
Bite and scratch his tender skin
Hit him shake him make him see
All that his is missing in me
Use my nails to rend and tear
Bite his skin until he bleeds
Then you think he’ll want me?
Do not cross me, let me pass
You do not want to taste my wrath
You think me weak, you would be wrong
It’s true what they say about a woman scorned


©Saroya Poirier

Animal

You think that I am changing, you might be right
I find myself naked, glaring at the throng.
Their insipid smiles, as they point and whistle.
I have plans to eat them all, as soon as I am able.
Waiting for an arm or leg, to bite and shake
They know not the ferocity of the animal they taunt.
Soon I shall feast on their bones crunch and break
My mighty bite will sent them screaming in flight
Let them laugh, for they are but tasty morsels
I am animal don’t they know, rubbing against the bars
Small and puny hardly worth the time they think
Humans are a waste of human kind, fragile, weak
I look like a kitten to fool the fools
But I will make a meal of their young, make them quake
I need only bide my time, for they think they are safe
But one day soon, I will escape.

Little Demon

You think I cannot see you,
But I can.
Do not deceive yourself,
I can smell you.
Excitement, fear, a challenge,
Are you sure?
You think I will not?
You are so very wrong.

Come closer, I am here,
Can you feel my breath?
My hand down you back.
Claw’s what claws?
My laughter,
only you can hear me,
Don’t shiver, I don’t like that.

Nervous?
Are you worried?
Does my laughter bother you?
No, don’t move,
I haven’t given you permission to move.
I want you right there,
Just like that.

The rope? Hemp, of course.
Rough oh yes, just enough.
Too tight?
No I will not loosen it,
Just relax,
Why am I laughing?
You’ll see, in just a short while,
Now don’t move.
Aren’t you listening?

You don’t want to anger me;
I am not nice when I am angry.
I love the feel of a whip in my hand.
The weight as I swing it.
I love to watch the blood run.
What?
What is that noise you are making?

I don’t like tears.
But yours I find fascinating,
Cry for me, now.
I can give you a reason to cry,
It will only hurt if I want it too.
And I want it to hurt, very much.
Ah yes, that’s it.
Blood,
What blood?
Oh that, that’s yours.

Hello? Wake up,

I am not through yet.


©Saroya Poirier March 13th 2008

Part 5 The Lady and The Dark Prince

Sitting down on the side of the bed, he reaches toward her face, gently caressing her cheek. "You are really quite beautiful, but I am sure you've been told that before." Not knowing whether to answer or not she keeps silent. He leans forward and begins to kiss her, first her eyes and lips. He then nuzzles her neck; she can feel him sniffing her neck before nipping at it, she tries to jerk away but the restraints prevent it. He rests one hand on her breast as he kisses her again pushing his tongue into her mouth, she almost chokes it is so unexpected. He squeezes then teases her nipple, pinching and pulling at it, both nipples become hard almost painful in their tautness. Unable to move her body she tries to turn her face away from him but he takes hold of her chin.

"Hold still."

"Please release me, send me home." Unsure she even wants to go home she feels that maybe he will listen now. She feels compelled to ask, as he is being so reasonable at this moment.

Sitting upright he looks deeply into her eyes, "no, that isn't going to happen."

"I paid for you; you belong to me now."

"What? Paid for me, how do you mean, paid for me?" She tries to pull free of her restraints, all the while staring into his smug face. This is too farfetched to be happening. The thoughts tumbling though her mind cannot be real; her father would not do that. She overheard her father and uncle talking in the study the week before the ball. Uncle had promise to find a way to help with the debt; he promised father he would fix everything. He promised there was a way to insure her younger brother's inheritance.

He promised. The moan escapes her lips before she can stop it, as cold stark realization comes to her.

"You are a friend of my uncles aren't you?" the resignation in her voice unmistakable.

"I have the gentlemen's acquaintance; we have done business together on occasion."

Trying not to cry, a betrayal by someone she loved, family her only uncle, it is too hard to bear. This place, tied to this bed, flogged, it is incomprehensible that her family sold her to be this man's plaything. To be married off yes, but this, no not this. Women married to save the family name, but this is too barbaric. Defeated she becomes quite still, not knowing whether to cry or scream, she does neither.

"I see from your posture you understand what has happened to you."

Unable to answer she nods her head. She feels his hand slide to her stomach and stop; he begins to makes small slow circles around her navel.

"I owned the note on your father's debt, when your uncle offered to pay; I informed him there was only one form of payment I would accept" the smile he gives her could only be described as wicked, then looking into her eyes he said, "you."

"Me, you wanted me?" Looking away trying to gather her thoughts, she knows she has never met him before, has no recollection of ever seeing him anywhere. Why would he want her? Turning her head to ask him more, she stops before she can speak one word. He stands beside the bed naked, breathtakingly handsome, fully erect and ready to take her.

She is breathing so heavily in fear that her full breasts rise and fall in a manner he finds so enticing, that he laughs as he stretches out next to her.

"I can make this pleasurable or painful, the choice is yours." He kisses her, then leaning back, he pinches her nipple again, "well, what is your answer?"

Between

Between my thighs is ecstasy
Waiting to happen
Between my thighs is warmth
For the one who wants me
Between my thighs is the taste of honey
Waiting to for your tongue
Between my thighs is where you belong

©Saroya Poirier 2008

He Haunts My Dreams

He haunts my dreams,
Just out of sight
Somewhere before
The dawns first light

My body throbs
Waiting for him
Alone in my bed
Each passing night

Wanting his touch
The feel of his arms
To be held so tight
I can’t sleep at night

Leave my dreams
Whoever you are
Hear my pleas
Become real to me

I beg you please
Make dream a reality
Leave the cover of night
To enjoy untold delights

Pleasure awaits
He who haunts my nights
I call him,
Come hold me tight

Leave my dreams
Fulfill my desires
Accept my sweet kiss
Against your warm lips

So come my man of dreams
Stop haunting my nights
Disturbing my days
I call you come,
Please come this night

Before dawns first light

©Saroya Poirier 2008

Part 4 The Lady and the Dark Prince

Releasing her from the shackles, he carries her to the bed.
As he places her on the mattress, his hand grazes her breast
causing her nipples to harden. He is pleased when her body
reacts to his touch, she can see it in his eyes. As he walks
toward the door he turns one last time, looking at her from
head to toe, then shutting the door, the last thing she hears
is the clicking of the lock.

Her last thoughts before drifting off to sleep, were his words,
he chose her? Chose to take her from her family, chose to
whip her, and chose to abuse her in the most obscene manner.
Touch her in places she had never been touched before,
in the process bringing her to want that touch! Groaning,
she comes to realize that she wants him to touch her. She has
begun to crave the touch of his hands, the feel of his body
when he enters her. She desires him, how can this be?
So exhausted she cannot even cry as a body numbing
sleep overtakes her.

Three Nights have passed and he has not come, she has been alone.
With the minor exception of a single servant who brings food and drink.
She has tried to speak to the woman who brings her tray.
The woman seems not to understand and only grunts in response
to any queries addressed to her.

When she awoke this evening, there was a dressing gown
across the bed. It is her only garment, besides the bedding since
she first woke up in this castle. The fire in the hearth as always
keeps the room relatively warm, old castles are never without drafts.
Pushing a chair up to the window, she pushes aside the tapestry
and pulls open the shutter; craning her neck so that she may see
just how far it is, and it is a very long way down. With a defeated sigh,
she closes the shutter and latches it back in place, allowing the ancient
worn tapestry to fall over the window. That is strange, she never noticed
that the tapestry before, matter of fact she knows the windows were
not covered she could see the dawn each morning.

Taking a good look around, she realizes she is in a different room.
No chains on the wall only the silk robes on the bedposts, a large
canopied bed, with pillows. When did he move her?
It had to have been last night, quite sure that she had not fallen
asleep in this room and finding it disconcerting and frightening
that she can be moved around without any memory of it happening.

In frustration at her situation, she tries to open the door pulling
with all her strength. Slamming her open palm against the wood
she screams, “Why have you done this, Where are you?”

“I told you why, it is time you accepted it.”

Spinning around her back against the door, chest heaving in fright,
he is there standing by the fire. He wasn’t there before, she would
have notice him.

“Where did you come from, how did you get in here?”
She can clearly see there is only one door and she is standing in
front of it, unless there is a hidden passage somewhere.

“I am here and that is all you need to know.” With a predatory smile,
he moves toward her, she has never seen a man walk the way he does.
Before she even has the time to think about moving, he is standing
directly in front of her. He slams her against the door.

“Now, we start again.”

He drags her by the arm toward the bed, yanking the dressing
gown off her shoulders then discarding it. She tries desperately to
pull away from him, only to have him lift her off the floor and throw
her onto the bed. He starts tying one arm then the other, screaming
she tries to kick him. His vice like grip hurts as he grasps an ankle
and yanks hard.

“Stop now.”

“Let me go, please let me go.” He ignores her pleas as if she had
not uttered a word. Her struggling only makes the robes tighter.
Lying spread open to him on the bed is humiliating. Reaching
behind the bed, he pulls out his whip. Slowly he tickles her face
with the tips then lays it on her breasts. He lifts the whip higher
then starts with a slow figure eight around her full breasts.
Dragging the leather in ever-tantalizing circles, her nipples react,
becoming painfully tight. As she starts to squirm, he moves the
whip lower over her stomach and hips. He begins to walk slowly
down the side of the bed. He follows the length of one leg moving
the whip slowly side to side from groin to thigh, calf, and foot.
Then he walked around the end of the bed to the other side.
This time he starts at her toes and works his way up her other leg.

The light touch has made every nerve ending that the leather
touched almost painfully sensitive. Without warning, he lifts
the whip, swings it and strikes her across the stomach.
She screams out, but it was the sound more then the contact
that scared her. She lies there tears running down her face,
as he begins to coil the whip between her thighs, then lays the
handle on her stomach.

He steps back, removing first his jacket then his shirt, setting them both across the arm of the chair. He walks back to the bed never taking his eyes off her. He is beautiful to look at, his body hard and masculine, she would look away but she cannot, rather she doesn’t really want to look away. Seeing his eyes on her, she begins to wriggle under his scrutiny, in so doing the whip moves between her legs. The small action sends a shock of pleasure though her, unable to control the sharp intake of breath, she lets out a moan.

Her embarrassment intensifies as he roars with laughter.