Much Better Than Deserved

(A vengeful ode)

It seemed to her much better than deserved,
Although he'd never touch her as she wished.
He's handsome and beautiful - preserved,
In her mind, as a person who'd exist
On planes far higher than those she'd attained
With him: a place she would never have dared
To dream of or to fantasise; she's pained:
The victim of a man who never cared;

She wondered if he had the whole thing planned
Persuading her to share that living space;
He didn't need her body; he'd have scanned
The cafes and the bars for a new face
To entertain him, while she scrubbed and cleaned
And paid the rent, but did not share the bed,
Filled as it was with one-night stands, who seemed
Much better lays, than victims he'd not wed;

She could have found a way, as she'd accept
All the loud groans and rhythmic shifts at night;
The pillows in her dark room won't deflect
The hurt, as he excluded her delight;
Save the strained smile that he gave, as she washed
The stained sheets of his nightly usurpation,
Of goodwill as, gradually, he squashed
The hopes she had: reduced to masturbation;

An offhand comment about hair or clothes
Would send her scurrying to find a look
That would just please; and yet her anger grows,
As he refused to touch her; and he took
A backward step, if her hip brushed against
His leg as they sat watching the TV,
And his withdrawals simply seemed to taint
And make victimisation emnity;

Enough's enough and then there comes a time
When he'd provoked her once more than he should
He'd wander nearly naked, which was fine
But, with his attitude! It's rather rude
To undress in a bedroom, as they'd talk
Where there's a mirror that reveals all;
She'd blush to see his sex, as he found fault,
Though there's the inspiration for his fall;

"It isn't funny now, is it, my friend,
To know I know the mirror ploy was fixed;"
He won't look so erect, as she extends
Her grip upon his balls; that wilted prick's
A pretty picture of fallen desire:
He slipped down to the floor, as she intended,
Polished to mirror sheen in her deep ire,
And he'd soon know his mastery was ended.

She bound his wrists, while he just lay there, stunned;
The tights and bra she wore, indeed, sufficed;
Their intimacy seemed to suit the bond;
She sat upon his chest: this 'loving tryst'
Enforced, was one that she had surely planned;
And, did she care? Not her. She swiftly graced
His trousers to unzip them, so her hand
Was cradling the penis she'd displaced.

"Call that a cock," she sniggered in the dark
And hitched her skirt up, so the man could see
Between her legs a strap-on that would park
Itself against his butt-hole; there was glee
And madness in her glances, as she turned
His body over and wrested his pants
Down round his ankles, as her lust slow-burned
And she decided she would slake her wants.

He caught his breath and knew this would be rough
"Oh my! A virgin - are you very tight?"
She sneered, as she lubed up her cock with stuff
She'd taken from his room: it seemed so right
To rape him with the vicious rage within
Addressed in such forcible penetration
Of his backside, as she marked his pale skin:
Nails scraping his arse: such decoration.

And there he was: beneath her, quite helpless
Unable to resist the trenchant force,
Which she was wont to use each time she pressed
Into the tightness; and she made it worse
By pulling from him sounds sweet to her ears,
For, as he groaned and clenched, she gripped the treasure
Beneath him to ensure there would be tears
Before bedtime - such vindicated pleasure;

And then she rose and let him crouch and roll,
But not for long as she needed his tongue
And she demanded silence, as her hole
Was filled so wetly, giving her a run
For all the money and labours dispensed,
Remunerated by hesitant licks,
Each protesting tremor recompensed
Her as, at last, she was the real bitch.

His lips, wet with saliva were discharged
Only when she had come and had a piss
That he had swallowed as he had been charged
And she discovered this new way that bliss
Could fill her life and fill his mouth; the uses
That she would put him to made her content
And he, surprisingly, took these abuses
Without a murmur or word of dissent.

And, when tied to her bed, later that night
And told he was a pretty pet for her,
He found there was fulfillment to requite
New needs, with which he was bound to concur;
By whispering endearments and invective
Each time she fucked in hard, giving her view:
For she enjoyed the power - this perspective
Was one that she'd maintain, but he might rue?

Indeed not, though she's mistress of their lives:
He is her cunt, but he's allowed to play;
He works, but with his wages, he's obliged
To pay his dark queen, so she'll have her way
With him now he's submissive: and she reigns
Throughout their household, for she is well-served
After the fashion, by his aches and pains,
Which seem to her much better than deserved.