In Tatters

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I knelt at His feet in the utter mess I’d made. My struggle to succeed was stark. No one had ever seen me so disheveled…in such embarrassing circumstances. As He cleaned me up for the second time two minutes, I looked up to meet His steady gaze and tried to gauge his reaction. Disgust at another disastrous, completely unimpressive act of service? Frustrated at my inability to get it together? Sadistically amused at another ridiculous unglamorous predicament I’d once again found myself in? I knew he was taking in every fucking minute detail of the wreck before Him and squirreling it away in the vault of His mind, but what did He feel? His stoic expression offered me no hint. Without comment He stood firm in front of me. Fuckin unwavering. He hadn’t walked away. He hadn’t stepped back. I swear He may have even leaned in. As soon as I’d semi-collected myself, I began my third attempt even as I tried in vain to push the remaining proof of my ineptitude out of view, hoping it would simply
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Drip

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My flesh reflects my soul’s original flame.
A sacred Goddess of intimate lustful beginnings. 

My sexuality drips.
From the mounds of my lush breasts.
Across the valley of my waist and round curve of my hip.
Down the globes of my plump pale ass. 

Drip.
       Drip.
              Drip.


I am. 
The thousand sins You desire.

The apple’s warm sweet nectar.
Born in the wickedness of my mind.
Falls from my lips and clings with longing to beaded red nipples. 
Only the worthy lap at the fountain of my deviant desires.

Drip.
       Drip.
              Drip. 


I am.
More than can be conquered.

The whispered disapproval of old hags and broken balls.
Amuses my shredded morality.
I stand tall, proud on the crumbled ruins of their bitterness.
And watch as they choke and drown under my sensual storm.

Drip.
       Drip.
              Drip. 


I am.
A force of nature they will never possess nor control. 

Unable to fathom the sweet surrender to self.
They whither to dry dust.
Lifelessly with envy.
As my tidal waves of primal passion crash on thirsty shores.

Drip.
       Drip.
              Drip. 

My sensuality drips.

From my flesh.
From my mind.
From my heart.
From my soul.

To feed and nurture beautiful beasts.
Like me.

Drip.
       Drip.
              Drip.
~DominaKat

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