Experiments in BDSM poetry

Disclaimer: I don’t write poetry.

LONG-DISTANCE
by Adele Haze

I put a silver bell in my lover’s collar;
It trills when he moves: I’m here, find me.
His skin warms the metal.
When I’m alone, I listen for the bell in the dark.
Some days there is silence.
But not today.

Story: The Price (FM/M)

NOTE: This is fresh out of the note-pad and only lightly edited, but it should give you an idea of where my thoughts have been for the last couple of weeks.

THE PRICE
by Adele Haze

For Jimmy

The boy sleeps.

Sybille watches the shadows of his limbs under the thin sheet, the sweat on his brow, the tangled mess of hair. An expression of desperation is set on his damp face, as though he’s clinging to the solace of sleep, determined not to let go. Narrow fingers are clenched on the edge of the sheet, which is drawn tightly around all of his angles.

She turns to Jax, her high priest, and nods. “This one,” she says under her breath.

He bows, “As you say, Lady.” He squints at the number cut into the leather band around the boy’s upper arm; Sybille sees him make a mental mark for tomorrow. Temple slaves don’t have names; she knows the boys name each other, for fondness of for convenience, but she pretends not to notice them taking this liberty. Her chosen one’s number is seventeen.

She throws a glance around the long hall, the many straw pallets there: all young men, all asleep. She suddenly wants to change her mind: to place the burden on some other shoulders, not these. Let some other boy weep and break. Yet, the trial is not only his, but hers also: what she admires, she must give away.

She exchanges another glance with Jax and walks away. Let the boy sleep, even if she can not.

***

(more…)

Story: ‘Part of the Family’ (M/mf, OTK, hairbrush)

In the evening, after cocoa and biscuits, Mother went to put Cathy to bed, and Daddy turned to me and Adam.

“We have something to chat about, don’t we?” He didn’t look angry, or anything, but I could see in his face that he was going to go through with what he’d said in the car. We were definitely getting it. “You can clean up the dishes, and then come to my den. May I advise you not to take too long.”

That last warning came just as I’d resolved to lick each plate clean, twice.

When Daddy left us alone, I sighed, dragging myself to my feet. “Ooh, boy,” I said in a tiny voice.

“Shut up,” said Adam; I think, he meant for it to come out fiercely, but instead it sounded all wobbly. Even his mouth looked wobbly.

“If I shut up, we’re still in for it,” I said, picking up everybody’s cocoa mugs. “Daddy said…” I swallowed. “He said it would be the hairbrush next time.”

(more…)