Infinity

When she called her young lovers to her
It was as if she were holding court
She in silken royal splendor and jewels
And them in clever leather harnesses, collars, and leashes
Or dressed to suit her fancy of the night
Sometimes having them dressed as Roman centurions
Sometimes as gladiators
Other times in kilts and little else
She was wicked that way
Sometimes she would bathe with them one by one
As the others looked on
Letting them pour warm water over her long hair
Using a gilded pitcher
Or soaking in bubbles while they feed her chocolate
From their fingertips

Other times she sent all the boys away to be spanked
Because it was good for them
And then nubile young women tended her instead
She handpicked them for the luminous glow of their cocoa brown skin
Or the opulent shape of their breasts
Or their beautiful doe-shaped eyes
She had such an eye for proportion and variety
To her it was like collecting living sculptures
She would invite them all into her round bed piled high with silk and velvet cushions
Where they would spend long hours licking and exploring
Until they were all quite exhausted and sound asleep

Then there were the days when she preferred to watch her playthings in their quarters
Secretly of course, so she could observe them making love to each other
And there in privacy she would pleasure herself while watching them
Even at times having their furnishings rearranged while they were out in the gardens
So she could have a better view of their passions for one another
When they returned later

Rumor had it she also had a giant four-poster bed with carved pillars
And she would have bound to each post a nude subject
Their skin dusted with powdered gold
Their mouths gagged with silk scarves
And she would sleep there nude on warm summer nights
While they looked on helplessly longing to pleasure themselves
Their loins aching just to gaze upon her beauty while she slept
And when the dawn came she would ring a tiny silver bell
And four new slaves would arrive whose sole purpose
Was to lick and tease and suck those tied on the pillars
Until they were forced to give in to their passions
Still tied there helplessly but finally sexually satisfied
Sometimes she would stay to watch their faces as they came
But more often she would walk through the garden in sheer robes
Admiring the heady scent of old fashioned roses and Persian buttercups
Love is infinity, it has no beginning, and it has no end