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