the spankgasm

something that doesn’t speak out loud

at parties, but creeps across the fine

dinner table,

through glances, faint touches,

laughs & intentional momentary stares &

changes in the tone of one’s voice,

when s/he makes eye contact,

letting one know that kink is

involved, when it comes to what is in

store for the

evening---

just when the talons get dug in

is anybody’s guess,

but both parties agree that

once the rest of em’ are preoccupied,

somewhere out in the back of the house,

somewhere in a secluded room

not used by the rest of the folk during

the early evening,

somewhere, where the moans of pain &

pleasure cannot be heard,

they walk

hand in hand.

 

spontaneity leads to spitballing,

spitballing leads to deeper conversation,

deeper conversation leads to comfort,

comfortability leads to trust,

trust leads to permission,

permission leads to vulnerability,

vulnerability leads to possibility,

possibility leads to awakening,

awakening leads to pleasure,

pleasure repeats & repeats & repeats into

ecstasy.

 

digging deep into human

urge, gripping tight with both hands,

hold palm straight, swinging down,

slamming & echoing the slap throughout the

room, following again,

communicating with &

constantly checking one’s pain threshold,

with the reddening coming &

the streaks, the fingers being imprinted,

but still, more is wanted,

so the steady slap, the smack,

increases in rapidity,

in strength, in force,

with every motion planned, deliberate,

to bring pleasure through pain,

constantly communicating,

letting s/he who enjoys/endures

work at him/herself whilst the

room gets louder with moans,

wincing, cries of excitement &

cries of hurt,

all the while

inside, s/he rises,

rises, rises, rises,

further up the hill,

as the skin grows a deep red,

as the skin begins to bruise &

then finally,

the

spankgasm.