To submit your work for consideration, please send me the text of your story, along with your contact information, in an email. Queries and submissions can be sent to me directly at: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Photograph by Indigo Skye
Poet Jessica Kristie...
Born and raised in the California Bay Area, Jessica discovered her passion to write at the young age of ten. She regurgitates her heart and mind, sometimes in structure and sometimes in free flow, as a way to heal and understand herself and those around her.
Jessica’s inspiration comes in many forms, often inspired by just a word or quickly fleeting emotion. Through years of writing she has been able to capitalize on her experiences, whether they are painful or joyous. Inside each of these moments lies a grand piece of her history. They are a documentation of much of the pain life has to offer, and the hopeful bit of empowerment required for survival.
Jessica hopes to draw you close to her world through shared emotion while inspiring you to heal, to love, and to find the light while you’re dreaming in darkness.
Look for Jessica’s new poetry compilation being published early 2011.
“Poetry is my heart, anchors my soul and documents my journey.” – Jessica Kristie
Make me a witness
Don’t keep me guessing with your lips
Centered upon my neck
And the irregular
Beating of my heart
You melt diamonds
With that tongue
Quiet beating waves
With that touch
I am always left so breathless in your grasp
I could have felt your heat from across the room
Tasted your excitement
Like a penetrating
Collapsing all of my senses
Right into your bed
Everything you have
I want deep inside me
That skin of yours
Tasting of silkened clouds
Melting hard to my thighs
I want to be
Your bath water
The only place
I can completely take you in
As you ease your way
Every inch of me
Wants you there
Every piece of me
Every piece of you
Kudos on Your Upcoming Book, Jessica!
Sending You Virtual Flowers and My Congratulations Across the Miles
Get In Touch...
Link to Jessica's Facebook Fanpage!
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Here's some new work by a promising young poet, Joshua Wadsworth. We connected on Twitter and he was kind enough to share his work with me...
Indigo Skye: Ink and Art
Welcomes Poet Joshua Wadsworth
Dance with me on this bitter eve,
Kiss me on the midsummer dream,
Cold whispers on this bitter night,
Creatures kiss the shadows and soft
Entranced by this desire,
I wish to feel the burn of fire,
Press your crimson lips to mine,
Sip the blood that is your wine,
Forever we are one,
Let this curse of sin be undone,
Weave your wicked ways,
Spin the thread of darker days,
Turn the screw, hammer the nail,
Kiss me through the veil,
Weave your sinful craft of
The air falls thick while candles are
Wax and fangs dripping with blood,
" I will lick the plagues, under the belt I whip the scars, I dig to scratch the surface with my nails of scum, kiss my flesh to this disease I will succumb "
" Romance the cruel and wicked beast, for flesh and blood will she feast upon, the flickering moonlight paints a portrait of the dawn "
"I will bow to you my wicked queen,"
Enthroned by the clocks of midnight,
Lick the poisoned apple honeyed like saccharine skies, hidden in a malevolent disguise,
Licking her ruby lips tasting
the wine she sips,
"What spell has thee crafted on this eve?"
Through the window I see the moon,
The fog swirling in the mist,
One final breath and kiss,
"I will bow to you my wicked queen."
I've been fortunate enough to find an apprentice who needs a firm hand in the studio- and in the bedroom! Dirk's such a naughty boy that I can't let him out to play- instead, he remains caged beneath my desk to service me as I write. He recently sent me a nasty new fantasy- enjoy!
Notes from Under the Desk
by Dirk Deeper
My leash pulls against my collar. I am following Mistress Indigo, Her hips swaying as she walks in front of me in her merry widow. Stocking-clad legs flash one in front of the other as I hear the click of her stilettos on the hardwood floor. The sound echoes through my thoughts, driving me to lust as I sit below her desk. She is on the phone. Her foot rests against my caged penis. She requires me chaste for Her and I am unable to obtain release- Mistress prefers my genitals confined.
I serve her better when my sac is full of seed- which I labor to produce for her, yet cannot empty. She alone must harvest my seed. Today, my Mistress will teach me to clean. Her studio is meticulous, so I am curious as to what portion of it needs cleaning. I am instructed to open a gift box with a pink ribbon on her desk- today Mistress Indigo has promised me a present.
I open the package, revealing a very sexy pair of women’s boy shorts. They are pink, the material so smooth I become excited just touching it with my hand. Mistress holds them for me as I put them on, one leg at a time. Before she pulls them up all the way, she pauses. I see her move to take off her necklace. She holds the key that unlocks my chastity cage in her beautiful fingers. She looks at me and instructs me not to touch my penis.
Soothingly Mistress Indigo strokes my swollen member. I shudder. She pulls up the panties over my member. My penis rebels against the sheer material. I can see her gazing at my manhood’s outline through the material. Mistress Indigo asks me to turn around. I hear her gasp. She tells me they fit perfectly. I feel her hands cup my cheeks. She then directs me to stand in front of Her and takes down the shorts. My erection bounces free.
Mistress sighs as she cups my sac, squeezing me firmly. I take in a sharp breath. She fastens a pinch collar around my sac. It has the same pinching mechanism as the collar around my neck. She smiles at me and gives a short tug. My world turns white as the pain overloads my senses. It feels as if my sac has been severed. I look down to see it still intact and realize that Mistress Indigo is giggling. She runs the chain through the leg of my shorts, pulls them up, and begins walking me towards Her bedroom.
I follow Her quickly so as not to make the collar around my sac pinch again. She opens the door and shoves me roughly into a chair.
“Stay put, or…” She motions a tugging action on my sac leash. My mistress tells me She will instruct me on my cleaning duties when the time comes. She whispers in my ear that I look very pretty and softly pinches my penis.
Her touch drives my cock to bulge lewdly against the material. Her hand cups my balls, traces the outline of my shaft. It jumps at her touch. She teases me, giggling at my arousal and discomfort.
“Take a look around. Very soon I will begin giving you instructions.” Her bedroom has photographs of dominant women and their submissive males in various sexual acts involving the abuse of their genitals. One of the photographs is of Mistress Indigo with a submissive male slave bent over some type of device.
Visually, it’s stunning- the pained expression on his face contrasts the look of sheer lust in her eyes. She is beautiful- dressed in lingerie, stockings, and high heels. Her breasts spill out of her corset- divine. Mistress Indigo swats me with her riding crop.
“That photo was taken during the Seed Festival. I photograph dominant women taking liberties with their male slaves.” She lists the names of various galleries where her work is on display. A drop of pre-cum stains my new boy shorts. “I’d like a photograph of us hanging on my wall some day.”
My Mistress directs me to sit in a chair next to the bed. She leaves the room and returns shortly with another male. He is nude except for a hood covering his head. His erection bounces in front of him as Mistress leads him to the bed. She fastens restraints to his wrists, binding him to the bed. He is quiet and says nothing. His submission to her will is perfect. I have much to learn. She leaves his hood in place and straddles the man’s stomach, lewdly rubbing Her sex against his well-defined abs.
Mistress says, “Watch closely.” She reaches back, and grips his cock. She lowers herself onto his manhood. “It feels so good when he fills me up.” She tugs at the small chain leading to my sac. Her moans tell me he's already getting close to making you come. Mistress Indigo pulls roughly on my sac leash and screams, “I’m coming!”
She gyrates Her hips back and forth on the young man’s member, redoubling her efforts. She fucks him relentlessly. His cries of passion rise in crescendo. The young man’s body begins to quake.
She turns to me. “Get ready to clean up- I think he’s about to make a hell of a mess.”
His back arcs as he enters the throes of orgasm. She screams- at the peak of Her passion- and comes again. She yanks my sac leash and my world is awash in pain. She motions for me to lie next to him on the bed. I obey eagerly. Mistress Indigo straddles my face, positioning her pussy above my lips.
“A bountiful harvest of seed…you must clean my altar of the sacrifice.” I taste her sweet nectar dripping down, and lick my lips.
“I live to worship you, my Goddess.” My face is awash with nectar and seed. My Mistress shows me love with her riding crop as I continue to lick.
“Make me come again.” She continues hitting me with the crop, spanking my cock through the silky material of my pink shorts. I make her come again and again. “That was the best head I’ve ever had,” she says afterwards as we lie together in bed.
Mistress praises me for my eagerness. The Huntress within her makes my submissiveness reach new heights of pleasure. She makes me feel owned, like property- a precious treasure. When Mistress Indigo strikes me with Her crop, it is heaven.
Dirk's a very eager pupil, with a lot to learn. The following offering is his first foray into writing, and describes our initial lesson...
Notes from Under the Desk
by Dirk Deeper
I sit here…it’s all very new. My place is now here…and yes, my counselor; she’s near me. A beautiful woman…Mistress Indigo. A lovely merry widow adorns her breasts…alas, I have only stolen glimpses of her orbs of flesh. So sheer the material, I was able to see the need in her stretching to escape the confines of her garment. Narrow waist…I am glancing quickly now as my vantage point favors my view of her. Her hips swell gently from her waist…but full…she seems ripe there…fruit on a vine, calling for harvest.
Yet I am not allowed to harvest this forbidden fruit…although I am nourished by her nectar. For you see, Mistress Indigo allows me one indiscretion…in this fashion, yes, I am most worthy. There…again I feel a tug; Mistress Indigo pulls firmly on my leash…my collar, pinching my neck…the pain I feel radiates to my groin…engorged. My manhood strains against the confines of its’ cage that Mistress Indigo sentenced me to just this morning. I see the key to my captivity dangling from a necklace, gently nestled between her full bosoms.
She raises an eyebrow at me…she’s curious, I have just begun my writing apprenticeship with her. My nostrils pick up her desire…my Mistress Indigo requires her flesh to be pleasured…I pay her in this fashion and she tutors me in lessons of literary matters. Mistress Indigo’s thighs are of the finest Chinese silk…their softness calls to my erection, frustrated at its inability to grow, my penis strains against the confines my new job requires of me, chastity, for I wear no other article of clothing save for my cock-cage.
Mistress Indigo’s stockings…so alluring. Again, a quick tug at the leash, a sharp pinch of my collar. I realize I have drifted off…my thoughts lost between her legs as she pulls aside her panties. Mistress Indigo’s flower is aflame, in a lovely pink hue. Great is my Mistress’ passion as I yield my mouth to her flower…warmth…yes, the very warmest silk…moist as the dew in the morning…her nectar begins to flow. Mistress Indigo teaches me, guides me…pulls the leash to the right…now soft hands fiercely grab my head and push.
I fight for my own breath! My heart ready to explode…I strive to please Mistress Indigo with my mouth. I lap at her as a kitten laps at a bowl of milk… the strength in her hands reflects dark thoughts as she beckons my efforts further! She forces my mouth onto her…yet my own greed has me fighting to move my face closer to her flower. Her gasps tell me I am truly worthy of her, that she approves of my pupil’s eagerness and her altar is now fully open for me to truly worship this Alpha Female, my mentor.
Mistress Indigo clenches my face with her thighs…so powerful…yes, I could die here…between my Mistress’ legs…her hungry quim devouring me. In my breathless state I think of a female Praying Mantis consuming the head of the male who has just delivered his seed to her. Still, I battle to lap at the hardness of her nub…it reaches out to me and I towards it…so hard, so throbbing with lust. Again Mistress Indigo places me in a death lock, her cries of need and pleasure found…again I worship…knowing I must please my Mistress as many have been cast aside, unable to satiate Her. Leash now taut, the pull on my collar forces my mouth deeper still into my Mistress’ flower…nectar flowing everywhere…suddenly everything stops for the briefest fraction of an instant. A final series of cries and nectar flows rapidly from my Goddess…she has rewarded my efforts; her cries order me to continue, to consume, to drink from her fountain. Nails that had dug into my scalp now relax…arms with the strength of a vice now sooth and pat my head. Mistress Indigo tells me that I will do very nicely indeed.
I very gently return her panties over her very sensitive mound…my gesture is appreciated by Mistress Indigo who nudges my caged penis with her stilettos. A droplet of my pre-cum drips onto her stockings. I hear the joyful laughter of a pleased Mistress as she frees her foot of the stiletto and commands me to lick clean her foot, covered in the sheerest of stockings…I feel my penis ooze, while a warm dull ache grows in my sac. A nudge from Mistress Indigo’s heel into my tender balls…my grimace amuses her as she steps on my testicle, placing steady pressure, testing my pain as she explores my pleasure. A final cry, I pull hard away from my leash, my Mistress has proven her superiority.
Mistress Indigo instructs me to return to my literary lessons as I continue to type away and feel her nectar slowly dry on my face, her stocking covered foot lovingly caressing my sore and very tender jewels. I believe I have found my place, chained underneath her desk, nearest where I am needed most, her altar of pleasure, my leash looped around her wrist. This has been my first day, my first lesson, the first time I have worshiped my Goddess Indigo. I hope to pleasure her continually as long as she will have me as her slave.
Share Breath With Me
by Dev Damon
We ride love in spirals
to the place where mind ends.
We coast on sensation here.
We breathe one another.
You give me your breath as you exhale.
You take in my breath as I exhale.
Life circulates between us,
above and below.
I gulp your breath thirstily.
I drink deep of the air that moves
in and out of you,
as I am moving.
Let me smell the rich scent of love
lingering on your lips.
It paints your breath
with ocean bottom
and tiger lilies
and damp cotton.
Breathe me in, my love.
Stay with me,
share breath with me
through our final gasping cries
Afterward, our breathing quiets.
The room is suffused with love
that has bonded with the air here.
We are surrounded by our joined breath.
Homage to the Goddess on Earth
Bless me Goddess
Lay your sacred hands on me Goddess
Bless me with a kiss on each cheek Goddess
Let me Kiss your feet
Homage to you
Let me Kiss your legs
Homage to you
Let me lay you back on this Altar to Life
Homage to you
Let me kiss you between your legs
Homage to you
Let my mouth bring you to ecstasy Goddess
That I might pay homage to this sacred woman,
Source of Life,
Goddess on Earth.