tagErotic PoetryThe Stockade

The Stockade


I knew my keeper's rules
I was to be obedient
My actions submissive
To do as he commanded
Without question
But most importantly
My eyes were to be downcast
Never to gaze upon his face or body
Unless he granted permission

Although I knew these rules
I found them difficult to follow
My heart fluttered
When I was in his presence
When I looked upon his body
When I caught sight of his face
Often stealing glances
When I thought he was not watching

The sound of the metal latch
Unlocking the door
Awoke my slumber
I watched as my keeper entered my bed chamber
And removed his night clothes
Tossing them on the wooden bench
I admired his body
His legs muscular
His back strong
His shoulders broad
My body
Naked under the silken sheets
A wetness seeping between my legs
I quivered in delight
Knowing the pleasures I was to give him
And the pleasures I was to receive

As he turned to lift the covers
The morning twilight filtered across his body
Shimmering on his mass of pubic hair
His sex already hardened
My moans of excitement startled him
The glare of disapproval evident in his eyes
I had disobeyed a rule
I looked directly upon him
I had been caught
My keeper angry
As he left the room

I would receive no pleasure
Only punishment
To be carried out
By my keeper
For this rule
I knew well

I knelt on the cold stone floor
Hands clasped behind my back
Breasts jutting forward
Nipples hard
Eyes downcast
Awaiting my punishment

The door opened
A white satin robe
And black leather cord
Tossed before me
On the floor
My keeper's man-servant
As I dressed

I was escorted from my chambers
Down the grand staircase
The man-servant tugging
On the leather cord
Wrapped around my waist
His strides longer than mine
I struggled to keep up
The robe spreading open
Exposing my hard nipples
Exposing my smooth sex
I was escorted from the castle
Through the streets
The merchants closing shops
To follow behind
By the time we had arrived
At the town square
A crowd had gathered
To watch
The Punishment

The man-servant led me
Up a few wooden steps
To the platform
And removed the leather cord
From around my waist
My eyes downcast
He disrobed me
My nakedness
For all to see

The black silken scarf
Tied tightly around my eyes
Prevented any light
From seeping in
I recognized the touch
Of my keepers hands
Across my body
As he guided me
To the stockade
My head was placed first
His hands gently caressing my neck
Smoothing my hair
Around my face
My wrists were next
Placed within the stockade
And the wooden beam
Clasped shut
I was on display
My keeper whispered in my ear
For me to spread my legs
As I heard the iron chains
Being pulled across the platform
My ankles shackled
In the cold iron
My keeper whispered in my ear
Instructing me to rise
Upon my toes
As his hands
Grabbed my ass
Shoving me upwards

I smelled it
The smell I was all too familiar with
The smell of leather
Made especially for me
To keep me in line

I heard the distinctive sound
Of leather
Being raised high
In the air
The lashings
Striking my skin
Across my ass
As the leather
Struck my skin
The lashings
Across my thighs
The leather tips
Like needles
The lashings
Across my back
My cries muted
My tears absorbed
In the blindfold
The lashings
Without rhythm
My keeper grunting
With each strike
That landed against my body
The public cheering his movements
Counting the strikes
Of my Punishment

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byRebekkaBrown© 0 comments/ 4689 views/ 0 favorites

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