Latest Forum Posts:


Old wooden chair

Tags: chair, master, rope
This feeling so familiar. Hard, yet known to me.

So simply, yet so powerful.

Many men have sat in this old chair.

However few know its true power, it's latent potential.

As the sky turns blu, My pride, my heart, my blu leads me to my seat.

In her eyes this old wooden chair has become a throne, a symbol of power,

Of trust, and understanding. She is so beautiful, holding my hand, barely about to walk. 

Blue heels on, and black ropes around her body so tight it resembles a goddess dress upon her. 

She kneels before the old wooden chair, the throne, where her destiny shall sit and awaits. 

Smiling I take my seat, and look at her with a pride and hunger that would make Zeus jealous. 

I grab her by the rope pull her to me and......

God, I love this chair.

In dedication for my sub, blu

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

To link to this poem from your site - please use the following code:

<a href="">Old wooden chair</a>

Comments (4)

Tell us why

Please tell us why you think this story should be removed.