tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25635308368322420022023-11-15T05:35:26.892-08:00Jenny Plumb's Author BlogThis blog will focus on adult spanking (erotic, domestic discipline, D/s, BDSM) and writing (novels, poetry, fanfiction). Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00976182658179582212noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2563530836832242002.post-44740248386652160902016-04-15T23:12:00.000-07:002016-04-16T11:07:20.017-07:00A Poem<div style="text-align: center;">
<u><font size="+1">Strip Club<br /></u></font>
<br />
Going to the strip club with friends from work.<br />
They giggle and blush. I try not to look bored.<br />
The first stripper is beautiful. Lean muscular body.<br />
Gyrating, trying to entice with large biceps, hard dick.<br />
When done on stage, he wades into the crowd.<br />
Encourages touching, takes money with teeth.<br />
My friends hold up money. The stripper’s arrival<br />
makes their hearts race. He straddles my chair.<br />
I hand him my dollar. He guides my hands <br />
onto his chest. My heart rate is steady.<br />
"You’re very attractive," I mutter, hands falling.<br />
He leans down to whisper, "You’re sweet," in my ear.<br />
I hold back my snort. I am soft spoken,<br />
but people mistake me for sweet all the time.<br />
<br />
The next stripper on stage, still fully clothed,<br />
takes off his belt, makes it snap in the air.<br />
My body responds to the sound of that slap. <br />
My panties are damp. My heart rate is faster.<br />
A blush creeps up my neck, settles on my face.<br />
He wraps the belt around both his wrists,<br />
and holds them bound above his head.<br />
My knuckles turn white gripping my chair.<br />
He tosses the belt. and takes off his shirt.<br />
I try regaining composure while he is dancing.<br />
But my eyes keep darting to the abandoned belt.<br />
He’s out in the crowd. I can’t look at him.<br />
My mind is too busy playing out scenes.<br />
<br />
I want him to crush both my wrists<br />
behind my chair, in one of his large hands.<br />
I want him, to bite my shoulder<br />
hard enough to leave a lasting bruise.<br />
I want him, to start the bite slowly,<br />
increasing the pressure until I am squirming,<br />
until I try wrestling my wrists from his grasp,<br />
until the pain forces a moan from my throat.<br />
But I don’t ask him. This strip club is normal.<br />
My unusual requests won’t be welcome here.<br />
I'm with my friends. I'm in the closet.<br />
I can’t be myself in front of them.<br />
So I smile politely, hand him my money,<br />
and pretend to enjoy touching his ass.<br />
<br />
When I get home, my husband is waiting,<br />
holding our handcuffs. He knows me so well.<br />
I lean in to kiss him and whisper, "Let’s play."<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00976182658179582212noreply@blogger.com0