malins
Stumbling Seeker
I'm pulled back to the world,
surfacing, breaking out of the depths.
Cold water cascades,
as if I were shot up out of the sea itself
In truth I hang limp, spent and jelly-jointed,
but near weightless, almost levitating,
floating painless and free
while still tightly bound.
Can I not dream and drift a moment more?
There's a duty to be done, a price to be paid
I must return,
you tell me.
I must hang heavy again in my bonds,
armpits aching and my breastbone wanting to burst.
Wrists and ankles chafed
Fingers grasping for a hold on the rope
Toes seeking a tiny spot of support on the ground
skin stretched and seared
welts throbbing and burning
To this I must return
This way I must go on.
You lift my head, your presence fills my world,
your eyes cut through
I can't pretend, I can't escape,
I can't hide under the sheets or curl up in darkness
I must go through this
and I can only make it with you
oh!
how I must hate you for what you did!
But that's not true
What I resent
is that it was only that thing inside me
not you
but that can never happen, can it?
oh for sure, I'd guess you might roll in the hay with a peasant girl
Perhaps on lonely travels find pleasure in some tavern wench
Or in war, exert the right of conquest
on a newly taken slave
but these are all apart from me
above me
I've never been used this way, a thing forced into me,
but I understand,
I am tainted flesh
Destined to rot on the midden heap
or be cast into a pit
churning with maggots
cast forth with spoiled meats,
unclean vermin, beasts dead of disease
That is what it is, isn't it?
Is it?
For certain,
I should not hope to live after this humiliation.
I try to read my destiny from your eyes
I want to speak
But then the moment is gone,
you move away, behind me again.
I attempt to twist and turn my head, but it's too much of a strain.
I feel the twin cords
quickly being drawn between my legs,
held firm for a moment
then withdrawn again.
I hear the friction of the rope and your fingers working.
When the ropes return, I realize,
you'd taken the measure to find,
where to place the knots
that will further embarass me.
You press them in place with your right hand while coming around on my left side
Then you spread the two strands of rope and pull up high.
The crowd enjoys the spectacle of my body being used against me
Can I fault them?
Not when I used my nudity for treachery,
the image of an innocent girl bathing in a stream.
Revealing myself at the right time, a distraction,
to facilitate the crime.
Now I'm revealed for all, in any way
And as you work with the rope the knots tease me,
they are everywhere,
pressing deep into my folds, rubbing over my opening, working between my cheeks
shaming me for any move I make
I see now what you're doing, and how this frame works.
I had wondered about the double beams,
they could be used to hold two penitents face to face,
but now you use the other beam to run the rope over it,
and down again you pull ... I gasp as it digs in, lifting me
You fasten the bucket, and explain the rules of the game.
Weight must be added,
Pain must be sharpened,
Cuts deepened.
Shame must be piled on.
And the town
will have its part.
I wonder,
who will cast the first stone?
surfacing, breaking out of the depths.
Cold water cascades,
as if I were shot up out of the sea itself
In truth I hang limp, spent and jelly-jointed,
but near weightless, almost levitating,
floating painless and free
while still tightly bound.
Can I not dream and drift a moment more?
There's a duty to be done, a price to be paid
I must return,
you tell me.
I must hang heavy again in my bonds,
armpits aching and my breastbone wanting to burst.
Wrists and ankles chafed
Fingers grasping for a hold on the rope
Toes seeking a tiny spot of support on the ground
skin stretched and seared
welts throbbing and burning
To this I must return
This way I must go on.
You lift my head, your presence fills my world,
your eyes cut through
I can't pretend, I can't escape,
I can't hide under the sheets or curl up in darkness
I must go through this
and I can only make it with you
oh!
how I must hate you for what you did!
But that's not true
What I resent
is that it was only that thing inside me
not you
but that can never happen, can it?
oh for sure, I'd guess you might roll in the hay with a peasant girl
Perhaps on lonely travels find pleasure in some tavern wench
Or in war, exert the right of conquest
on a newly taken slave
but these are all apart from me
above me
I've never been used this way, a thing forced into me,
but I understand,
I am tainted flesh
Destined to rot on the midden heap
or be cast into a pit
churning with maggots
cast forth with spoiled meats,
unclean vermin, beasts dead of disease
That is what it is, isn't it?
Is it?
For certain,
I should not hope to live after this humiliation.
I try to read my destiny from your eyes
I want to speak
But then the moment is gone,
you move away, behind me again.
I attempt to twist and turn my head, but it's too much of a strain.
I feel the twin cords
quickly being drawn between my legs,
held firm for a moment
then withdrawn again.
I hear the friction of the rope and your fingers working.
When the ropes return, I realize,
you'd taken the measure to find,
where to place the knots
that will further embarass me.
You press them in place with your right hand while coming around on my left side
Then you spread the two strands of rope and pull up high.
The crowd enjoys the spectacle of my body being used against me
Can I fault them?
Not when I used my nudity for treachery,
the image of an innocent girl bathing in a stream.
Revealing myself at the right time, a distraction,
to facilitate the crime.
Now I'm revealed for all, in any way
And as you work with the rope the knots tease me,
they are everywhere,
pressing deep into my folds, rubbing over my opening, working between my cheeks
shaming me for any move I make
I see now what you're doing, and how this frame works.
I had wondered about the double beams,
they could be used to hold two penitents face to face,
but now you use the other beam to run the rope over it,
and down again you pull ... I gasp as it digs in, lifting me
You fasten the bucket, and explain the rules of the game.
Weight must be added,
Pain must be sharpened,
Cuts deepened.
Shame must be piled on.
And the town
will have its part.
I wonder,
who will cast the first stone?