Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Sunday, October 30, 2011


by Wendy Ashlee Coleman

I like my steak a gentle warm murder,
bathing in a nice bloody pool,
because I swear, I can still taste some of that left over life,
the little bit of remaining spirit which makes me drool.

You cut your hand the other day and it hurt,
It hurt you so bad I came to your aid like any good wife should.

But your agony, it leaked your strength and unhooked my tame,
making me lick my fingertips with your bright, tasty red pain.
I unzipped your pants and released your confused lust quickly,
your blood and seed smearing my face
like a dying mans final wish.

Your weakness, it smells like ecstasy rising.
Charging my urge with the unquenchable thirst
that only your fearful climax will quench.

And when the rope bites deeply with your every helpless twist,
my grin will meet you’re grimace
and my teeth will pierce your nape,
making the salty taste of prey marinate your skin
with the colors of vulnerability,
while the bright crimson shade that stains your skin
will drain your strife, but sharpen my focus,
as my thumping fight speeds up with your pulsating flight.

When you feel my breath,
does it make you shiver cold with fright?
or does it turn you on, sweaty and hot with excite?
Do you wonder why my bite
makes you’re manhood stand up, oozing shiny and bright,
making you beg with your eyes,
for perhaps a wet tongue to follow my sharp canine white.
Maybe you’re angry, maybe you want to scream, “I STILL FIGHT!” But the gag says otherwise.
nothing but a muted muffle and a pitiful plea with your eyes,
one that reads “please…please let me out, I want you my way: on your back succumbing to my masculine sight.”Oh, so sorry, baby, . . .not tonight,
so shut the fuck up or I’ll suck you to the edge, then just stop,
leave you there and go sip on a sprite.

But if I put that chilly blade against your pumping throat,
will you bring back that fiery terror
that I love to see in your eyes?

I mean it when I tell you pain must come before pleasure,
so try to remember that every time
those long nails of mine
dig in so deep, you look up and think
"Oh, God, how long will this last?”

I have to make it real,
I can’t just be naughty nice.
I have to hurt you for sure,
it’s the only way that shitty smug of yours
can begin to shake and wobble into a modest mold
under this calculated plight.

But hold on a little longer, just hang tight,
do it for me, because, damn it, baby,
your shaking body feels so,. . so fucking nice.

Do me one more favor, give me one more request,
pull on the those ropes tight for me,
do it with all your might,
because your struggle will just take my coming
way beyond new heights.

I know you’re not weak, I know your true strength,
but just give me this moment, baby,
because I got to have some prey tonight.

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