Femdom poem

[Sable Bomb]

Disco is not dead

A Femdom poem by Sable Bomb



Today is the day, I am going out tonight,
to find a beautiful girl to my delight.

I hit the dance floor like a man possessed,
when I move to the music I am no longer depressed.

As I sway to the rhythm my eyes wander the place,
in search of a woman full of grace.

After a while I spot a female beauty,
damn, she really IS a cutey.

A gorgeous femme, looks like Jewell Marceau,
for this to notice you don´t have to be Inspector Clouseau.

She is akin to a temptress on the prowl,
I would do anything for her, even howl.

Our eyes meet for a moment, her gaze is full of lust,
I need to have her, it´s not a need but a must.

Her endless legs are clad in silk nylons,
to honour her, all the men walk around with pylons.

She struts to the bar, cigarette in hand,
such a classy woman is everywhere in demand.

A throng of men surrounds her, young and old,
she encourages me with a smile to be bold.

This black-haired angel sips whiskey, snorts cocaine,
I´ ll have to make my move soon or else everything is in vain.

Sexy feet are stuck in black high-heels,
on her command every guy kneels.

She moves to the bathroom and beckons me to come along,
Compliance is the only option, can´t resist the siren song.

The door is locked behind us, she begins to tease,
I am totally enthralled, ready to please.

Her moist, sweaty soles smother my face,
her fragrance is irresistible, she laughs at my disgrace.

It just took a few whiffs to become her bitch,
she mocks me as I was really easy to bewitch.

After a couple of hours her deed is done,
she orders me to stop, points to the rising sun.

She leaves the disco with me in tow,
envious female guests call her a dirty hoe.

My fate is sealed, I am bound to serve,
this thought crossed my mind when I took a first glance at her curves...

[Naji]

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