Playing The Victim (c) Copyright, Anne Tyson, 2006
anne@comehitherpoetry.com
All rights Reserved - Copy, Duplication prohibited


You've drawn my attention with all of this noise
While you're building some things you refer to as “toys”...
I've come down the steps and I notice the placement
Of threatening machines that you've built in the basement!

And though I'm no expert, it's easy to see
It's a dungeon you've built, and I'm sure it's for me!
You're full of surprises each day of my life...
Who else has a dungeon to use on his wife?

I might be surprised, though, if I really knew
What the typical husband is liable to do!
This dungeon will help you achieve your ambition
Of role play where I am the one in submission.

I bet that your pants will be quickly unzipped
Just as soon as I'm “kidnapped” and thoroughly stripped!
Events of the evening will prove I am right
As I'm playing the part of your sex slave tonight.

I'm jumping right in and creating the role
Of a helpless young maiden whom you can control.
I'm eager to christen this dungeon, dog gone it.
This room might as well have my name written on it!

My instincts direct me on what I should do
As I hold out my wrists to be shackled by you.
I raise up my arms as I'm striking a pose,
And you take the next step as you tear off my clothes!

My shackles are locked, and the next step thereafter
Is trussing me up to a hook in the rafter.
First off, you thank me for “hanging around”...
Your knack for dark humor is truly profound.

I know how aroused you have always been getting
When watching a film with a Gothic-type setting...
Where men in black hoods are completely enraptured
While torturing gals they've methodically captured.

It's such an honor, since I am your wife,
To help all your fantasies spring into life.
Tonight, I'm the maiden whom you have abducted
To christen these gruesome machines you've constructed.

Inspecting the dungeon, there's nothing you lack...
There's pillory stocks and a nice, wooden rack.
The stocks are, in fact, where you move me to next,
Which leaves me bent over and partially flexed.

Good thing I trust you with all of my being.
I'm sure you're enticed by the view that you're seeing.
If I didn't trust you, this game would be haunting
Because you can do anything that you're wanting.

These stocks, I can see, are a great way to bind me...
I can't see a thing that you're doing behind me!
This sharpens my senses like never before,
Since all I can see is the rug on the floor.

The role you assume is commanding and strict
As you're making a move I could safely predict...
You're flanking my rear as you start to get “feely”,
And squeezing my boobs as they're hanging down freely.

The stocks hold my body securely in place
And my boobs are defenseless against your embrace.
The thorough massage, though, is nothing to fear,
Compared to the threats whispered into my ear!

I almost give in, 'cause your words are hypnotic.
Your sinister thoughts start to sound so erotic.
It's only a threat, and though you'd never do it,
A nipple, you claim, needs a clamp clinging to it!

And though I decline like I know that I should,
At this point, some clamps sound incredibly good!
After a while, when I need to be moved,
My request for some time on the rack is approved.

As soon as I'm freed from the stocks, I've reclined,
And I lay on my side on this rack you've designed.
I venture to say that your rack's really swell,
And you tell me my “rack” is a nice one, as well!

I dare to proclaim, as I try to look fetching,
“I bet you know someone who needs a good stretching!”
“Yes”, you confirm, “Your assumption is true,
And no one deserves to be stretched more than you!”

I'm making my claim that I've been a bad girl
As I try to entice you to give it a whirl.
You're quickly convinced as you push me down flat,
And my back's sinking in to the soft vinyl mat.

“You have misbehaved”, you reply with a chuckle,
And pulling my wrist back, you're locking the buckle.
As soon as my wrists and my ankles are done,
You're tightening my ropes just a little for fun.

Thus, I'm spread-eagled, and stretched on my back...
A helpless young maiden restrained on your rack!
My tease was effective, you have to agree,
And there's no one whom you'd rather torment than me!

You read my indictment, in case I don't know
That I'm guilty of stealing your heart long ago.
You state that a woman who's pilfered such treasures
Must surely be punished with strenuous measures.

You capture my nipples with “Nooses of Love”,
Which you're pulling taut toward the ceiling above.
Pushing my limits must be your intention
As both of my boobs are now stretched to attention.

Inflicting such anguish on me, I suspect,
Is the reason your manhood is also erect.
The truth...that I'm such an excitable gal...
Is confirmed as my juices seep from my canal.

The fact that I'm playing your victim, I bet,
Is the full explanation for why I'm so wet!
The evidence shows on my vaginal lips
As it starts to build up in the midst of my hips.

You climb on the rack with appreciable haste...
Your eyes on the region just under my waist.
Playing my part, I insist that you stop.
You simply ignore me while climbing on top.

It's all coming down to this moment of bliss,
And I love a game that crescendos to this!
My life as your sex slave's about to begin,
You're explaining to me as you guide yourself in.

I'll play any role when it's getting me some,
And I'll be your sex slave for decades to come!



Anne Tyson is the webmistress for
http://www.comehitherpoetry.com,
a website promoting her erotic poetry
ranging in style from tame to risqué