The Dream

When sleep comes
The dream returns.
My Sovereign approaches
And finding me in slumber,
She awakens me gently.
“Follow me,” She sings
And I will teach you pleasure
Beyond the dreams of mortal men.”
Enchanted by her beauty,
The sweet melody of Her voice,
And Her heavenly smile,
I find again
The Siren song
Can not be denied.
Taking my hand,
She smiles and begins:
“Your first lesson in bliss
Is that true ecstasy
Can only be achieved
In giving pleasure
To others.
My Pleasure
Must be your Pleasure.
My Joy
Will be your Joy.
My Delight
Shall become your Delight.
And in pleasing Me,
you will find true Happiness.

Do you accept this?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” I smile.
“Good,” she says,
“Now before we begin,
I want you to know,
That the game
We will play
Will give me true Pleasure
And that means
It will be a Pleasure
For you as well.
Are you ready, to begin?”
“Yes, my Queen.”
Without further hesitation,
She orders me
To remove my clothes,
and says:
“Then stand here,
Spread your legs wide
And bend over.”
At this moment I notice
The instrument of pleasure
Which My Lady carries
In Her alabaster hand
Is an elegantly fashioned
Long and sinuous bull-whip…
At this moment, the phone rings
And I wake to find myself
alone and clammy in the dark,
Longing for the pleasure
which was to come.

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