hankstr
Magistrate
The lovely Eulalia
Writer of prose
Kajira
Fuck slave
Beautiful, naked, chained to a rock
Sea nymph, waiting her fate
Silky girl flesh
When will it take her?
full of her nakedness,
chained. The rocks’ harshness,
coarse crusta chafing
soft skin, yet she’s not scared –
she’ll cope when it comes …
When it comes...
Where will it come?
From a trough in the strong surge,
slithering through sea-wrack,
clawing from a cliff-cleft –
Where will it come?
Early shocks startle,
a bird’s cry alarms,
a loose pebble tumbles –
she tugs the tight irons.
Weary the long wait,
flies swarm to warm sweat,
arms ache with chains’ weight,
thirst burns her throat.
Slow, down the sun glides,
gilding her girlskin,
salt-sore eyes scouring
the dim-shadowed shoals.
Shapes form and vanish,
cliffs echo eerie howls,
sea, where her death lurks,
creeps up the shore.
Smoored by black stormclouds
light leaves her, lonely,
wind whisks her sharply,
she shivers – yes, fear!
Surf swills around her,
skin swamped with salt-spray,
wrathful round lissom legs
foam spatters, ripped kelp’s
thrashing her thighs.
Surely it’s time now?
Sharply she stiffens,
sensing she’s watched now –
sea-snake eyes scanning,
her skin knows for sure!
Shrinks against sharp stones,
braced against boulders,
silent, not daring to breathe …
As it circles her, slowly …
Assessing, inspecting,
savouring in silence
the scent of her fear.
No-one could warn her
how it will be now,
how savage the seizure,
how cruel the prey-play!
Whip-whisk her death-dance
hurls her like spindrift,
lobbed across breakers,
spreadeagled in spray!
Till, score settled, sea ebbs,
crabs scavenge spattered crags,
gulls squabble, girl-scraps
scatter the sand.
Tangled in tide-wrack,
in daybreak sun glinting,
damp with the shore-scum,
a few flaxen strands.
Writer of prose
Kajira
Fuck slave
Beautiful, naked, chained to a rock
Sea nymph, waiting her fate
Silky girl flesh
When will it take her?
Sea-Sacrifice
A young Andromeda,full of her nakedness,
chained. The rocks’ harshness,
coarse crusta chafing
soft skin, yet she’s not scared –
she’ll cope when it comes …
When it comes...
Where will it come?
From a trough in the strong surge,
slithering through sea-wrack,
clawing from a cliff-cleft –
Where will it come?
Early shocks startle,
a bird’s cry alarms,
a loose pebble tumbles –
she tugs the tight irons.
Weary the long wait,
flies swarm to warm sweat,
arms ache with chains’ weight,
thirst burns her throat.
Slow, down the sun glides,
gilding her girlskin,
salt-sore eyes scouring
the dim-shadowed shoals.
Shapes form and vanish,
cliffs echo eerie howls,
sea, where her death lurks,
creeps up the shore.
Smoored by black stormclouds
light leaves her, lonely,
wind whisks her sharply,
she shivers – yes, fear!
Surf swills around her,
skin swamped with salt-spray,
wrathful round lissom legs
foam spatters, ripped kelp’s
thrashing her thighs.
Surely it’s time now?
Sharply she stiffens,
sensing she’s watched now –
sea-snake eyes scanning,
her skin knows for sure!
Shrinks against sharp stones,
braced against boulders,
silent, not daring to breathe …
As it circles her, slowly …
Assessing, inspecting,
savouring in silence
the scent of her fear.
No-one could warn her
how it will be now,
how savage the seizure,
how cruel the prey-play!
Whip-whisk her death-dance
hurls her like spindrift,
lobbed across breakers,
spreadeagled in spray!
Till, score settled, sea ebbs,
crabs scavenge spattered crags,
gulls squabble, girl-scraps
scatter the sand.
Tangled in tide-wrack,
in daybreak sun glinting,
damp with the shore-scum,
a few flaxen strands.