close to Laura's ranch

just maybe that naughty,...  
just maybe that aroused...  
just maybe that wanting...  
in the shadows of the dark.  
come take a little walk...  
down by the creek  
by moon light, listening to the movement of night.  
come take a little walk  
hand in hand...we stand.  
knowing not, what would stalk.  
whispers we would speak  
mutters within ear’s reach  
do we find what each stands to seek…?
up the path again hand in hand, we go  
as we have times and times before…  
of course only in our minds  
for we together have never had such a time...  
nervous with each step  
newness is the trance we two accept...  
on a path which has many a branch  
hand in hand  
on your farm...close to Laura's ranch  
In the dark it stands,
Straight and tall, into the sky
Into the dark, bellowing so high.
Your sight fixed
Eyes wide with delight
For set is the grain bin
Recognition by…descriptions
you have sent.
…. walking past,
Hearts both feeling the pounding,
Internal the wickedness,
Maybe…just maybe
Do you hear it sounding…
The creak of the hinges
The heavy of the door
Overwhelmed by the aroma…
Pushing you upon the floor…
Face pressed hard against the stone
How you now know you will be alone.
Spread with my weight upon you prone…
Your arms, spread now knotted
In the heavy of twisted hemp..
Tight so tight…your wrist now limp…
As your moans and your screams
Pressed in between your teeth
The blue of a ball
In your mouth deep..
Held in and tied in place
Not a sound…  
are you going to be safe?  
The rope dangles from the bin’s loft
Long and strong, woven yet soft.
At the end of the length of that rope,
A massive hook, your eyes now scope.
Wrist, so tied and banded
Hooked,
Jerked,
and pulled by force
You dangle and hang
Roped, reluctant, tame…
Wide eyed…
and looking around…
On walls and stools
On tables and chairs…
Torture breeds
upon the sighted tools…
Fixated are your stares
And the chill in the air,
The coldness coming from your despair…
Only wishing that this is one place  
You dare not be there…
“Dangle you sweet slut”
Words that fill the bin…yelled throughout the air…
Become my whore..
You will appreciate it as you have before..
Your nipples in the chill
Erect, just waiting upon the thrill…
The leather cracks..
And the flogging begins
Across the breast…
The black strings…
Now your nipples become to sting…
One two three…count for me..
Tell me if you want me to free..
Stop... stop moving your feet for it makes you swing.
Shall the bar be attached…
locked and shackled
Spread…wide ...
your split.
Dangle and tied..
No movement  
Not even from side to side
Now you mutter not a word…
Even the night,
So close and dark…
From you nothing is heard…
My eyes filled with delight  
Conquest, a statue might..
My mind has rehearsed
Each and every move..
But now in the excitement
I have not a clue.
I reach and touch the tools of trade
And from your eyes, my slave
I see the worry in your face…
For you know the pleasures I’m about to unleash.
The mulling over…and over
More over comes at a snail’s pace…