I recently turned my boy into a word cloud and I enjoyed it so much that I wanted to write on him again. This time I wanted it to be in public, where the words I wrote could be seen by people being written and be read afterwards.
We had been invited to attend a party and I had planned to use that opportunity to do just that. There was a beautiful bench in the centre of the room and I arranged my boy over it, fastening his wrists in the cuffs which were so thoughtfully provided. I began by spanking him gently, with my hand and the leather paddle. I moved on to the flogger for a few brief moments and then pulled out my sharpie and began to write.
Mat laughed softly when he realised what I was doing. As I continued to work he became curious to know what I was writing.
“A poem” I told him; continuing to focus on writing the words I had composed earlier in the week, memorised for this moment.
As I wrote I was distantly aware of people’s interest, of their murmured whispers of curiosity. Still I concentrated on my task – there was no way to erase mistakes – until I had finished, then I stood back and let others read my words.
Finally I untied my boy and took him to one side to recite to him what was inscribed on his back. Something both intimate and public.
This was in effect my first ever piece of performance poetry. Mat had been encouraging me to share my poetry more widely for a while but I don’t think this was quite what he had imagined. The positive reaction I got was really touching. I shared my words and my feelings and they felt appreciated and understood.
Best of all, Mat wore my words proudly all evening and I did my best not to smudge them.
The photo was taken in the dark, so here is the poem more clearly.
This is my boy,
my toy and my plaything.
This is my bitch,
mine to tease and torment.
This is my slut,
mine to fuck and to hurt.
This is my whore,
mine to share and to use.
This is my canvas
mine to mark and inscribe
with words that inspire me
with whatever I choose.