I am His – this is one of the ways I know it
The sting of the wings
Imprinted on my shoulders by your belt.
Each stroke creates a sting, creates a gasp, creates an involuntary twist away, followed by a voluntary twist back.
Each stroke is accompanied by a wish that this will be the last stroke, followed swiftly by a desire for it not to be.
Your sulky cock, aroused by our sinuous tango, pushes in and pulls out, each thrust accompanied by sting, gasp, twist, twist.
Your hand in my hair arching my back, we ride out and across the sky, sting, gasp, twist, twist
Collared anew, pony hair and suede, I trot and gasp for you, for us.
We pull the year across, tracking autumn into winter, winter into spring, sting, gasp, twist, twist
Belted sting and you deep in me, we are one winged thing, one charged with remaking the year, remaking time, deep in me, flying for us.
eye November 2015
And now, we create our world anew. Master and eye, older, wiser and more committed than ever before this tangible evidence of our connection arrived through the post. Before He put it around my neck and I wrote the piece above.
Three years later and so much has changed apart from this. I wear my collar, precious, treasured and waiting until He places it around my neck again. Then we will ride, trot and gasp at His will.
Sometimes booted and clothed, fresh-faced, into the wind and chariot driven through the lanes.
Sometimes naked as the fire I lie in front of warms us, His eyes on mine as He asks, “are you ready?” and I reply “yes Master”