nothing. But I had a jolly nice time. It was a poetry workshop where we had to do our research en masse in our local sex shop (which specialised in fetishes) and then go away and write poetry in a very gorgeous French café, which sold beautifully elegant pastries. The first exercise was to write one word on a piece of paper which would be a situation which could IN NO WAY be thought of as sexy. Then the pieces of paper were gathered up, shaken up and distributed randomly. We then had to write the sexiest poem we could for that situation. Ladies and gentlemen, the title is at the end, because I urge you to read this twice so that my reputation remains intact, heheh. Enjoy?

I want him to strap me down

stop me biting, s-c-r-e-a-m-i-n-g

begging him to

stop the pain inflicted

to stop the pain endured

in my recent pitiful existence,

my eyes shouting for mercy

from this inevitable demise.

.

I see him get close, masked,

hot breath mocking my blind

panic as he reminds me to

breathe, to breathe, to breathe

and relax as he

invades me

takes control

forces in,

.

his fist clenched

as I clench my fists,

his dominatrix

sidekick pressing her flesh

on my flesh with

well versed clucks that

control my urge

to run, to run, to leave

.

as ice cold steel pushes,

grinds bone, deafening

noise as my throat gags,

my mouth fills with

latex forcing my tongue

to taste this torture,

this foul amalgamation

of certified abuse,

.

which I searched out,

in desperation, now spent

with the debt incurred

unpaid, for now.

.

He leaves a piece of silver

hidden deep inside me,

which I will let him find again

soon, willingly.

.

This piece is entitled ‘Visit to the Dentist’.