Browse William’s Poetry by Volume:
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What You Wish For

Her voice weaves words
into subtle strands
that combine to cover the mind
and then pull close around
to drain every thought
once contained.

This is a personal reduction
from an aimless drifting
to a purpose clear and defined.
I just have to listen
and then obey.

In the beginning, the lesson
is based on whim,
why not just give in?
It feels good and of course,
we are just pretending.

Later on, there is no question
of resistance or introspection.
When the realization comes
that the game is not a game
and there is no going back,
then there is sweet submission.

When She allows, I taste Her skin,
pleasure Her sex and kiss Her lips.
She accepts all this as Her due.
She has conditioned my mind to reflex.
My joy is to do what She says next.

Halloween Fantasy

He stands before a great old wooden door
and knows not who he is or why he’s there.
He feels strange in return to consciousness
and sees that he is dressed as Harlequin.
A strange low moon moves between the bare trees
and he feels a great sense of urgency.
The ancient black iron knocker compels
his hand to use it, and when he does so,
the door cracks open of its own accord.
A servant of indeterminate sex,
wearing skin tight black submissive latex
takes him in hand and leads him inside.
A sign in barely controlled raging fire
proclaims that the Halloween witches ball
has begun and the theme this year will be
hypnotic domination and control.
The hall is filled with beautiful women
dressed in sophisticated elegance.
He is brought to stand before one of these,
and without a thought, he falls to his knees.
She smiles a strange slow smile and collars him,
then whispers a word he forgets at once
while he follows her to a small side room.
She binds his wrists to an old wooden cross
and his ankles together at the base,
all the while whispering low and chanting
so that he comes to feel that he is stone.
The witches ball has a contest to play,
and she is granted the honor of all.
She can use any spell or hypnotic
compulsion to forbid her Harlequin
to have physical release while at once
sensitizing his skin beyond measure
to each touch and erotic stimulus
so that his need will be unbearable.
All the other witches are each given
a turn to break the spell and make the slave
fail in abject release and black despair.
It is a party game for all of them,
but not for him. As he feels the blindfold
remove his sight, he hears the door open.

A (very) Small Trick or Treat

The trick is that I think I hypnotize myself.
The treat is that She’s the one who does it.
The trick is the art She applies to my psyche.
The treat is my submission to Her superiority.

- care to continue, anyone? -

Her Purpose

I have ridden this way to surprise him.
I wear a carved pumpkin and I am ready.
When his horse rears up and he falls,
then is he lost to any that might forestall his fate.
He awakes in My arms and knows not where he is.
My voice soothes him into a powerful trance.
Such is My power that he has no chance
to awaken or resist, his world I newly define.
And so, I take the time to compel his need
to give Me pleasure until I can take no more.
Then, while I recover, I consider his use.
He wakes naked under a defiling moon
with My shadow dominating his soul.
I confine and configure his consciousness
directly and from his subconscious beneath.
At the grand ball of the occult elite,
I take him leashed into the grand hall.
His arousal is apparent to all who care to see
and I am pleased by this and proceed
to entomb his last bit ot free personality
into a Halloween abject consummation
of his final and complete surrender to Me.
Tears run down his cheeks as I sell him
to the highest bidder. I will buy him back,
and by then, I expect him to be even better.

Auteur

“Do you take direction?”
was her first question when I met her.
It was clear she knew how to give orders.
I held on to my self control as long as I could,
but soon her voice grew and I diminished.

She smiled.

I became an extra in her new opus,
one of the many taken in her conquest.

She reimagines The Story of O
and Venus in Furs. She controls us
in submission and we are only hers.

Hypnosis must be involved,
for I remember nothing.
My memories are torn and useless
every morning.

Sometimes I think it is all a dream,
but the marks on my body contradict me.
Sometimes I think I play all parts in my mind
at her whim and insistence
as she addicts me to certain deviance.

At midnight, I must light a candle
and stare into her ancient cracked mirror.
Her face becomes material and her whispers
take my arousal for a lesson.
I must do as she insists in this acting school.
She is the mistress and I am lost
in the perfect confusion of her strict rules.

In post production, I have no part to play,
She gives me a strange kiss and inserts a trigger.
I watch her limousine drive away
and I ache as I need and forgive her.

Deep Trance

A single candle flame continues.
It is all that there is and all that I know.
There is the voice of the darkness
that is my voice, Her voice, and silence
all together in this small and infinite space.
Without thought I am fire along nerves
directed to sexual centers repressed
and reserved. Consciousness has been lost
along the way, but some vestige of self,
small and obedient, remains to follow
the voice that stays just out of reach.
The body knows this is right. A warmth
creeps along the spine leaving pleasure
in its wake. What is left of me wishes
more pleasure by giving pleasure.
The instructions become more complex
as I become more simple. I merge
into Her intentions and my universe
becomes as She wishes. I must worship Her.

The Mistress Daydreams

O darkest flower of my heart,
in my midnight garden shall you bloom.
I will guide you and instruct you,
binding you with my perfume.
You will open your soul to me,
its black velvet petals unfolding
and straining to attract my attention
for deep penetration and molding.

But that is the future to come.
How shall I begin to beguile you?
Shall I use a false breathless modesty
to become the one who is pursued?
I shall slowly direct your desires
into those that allow the most control.
In my realms of the most sweet deviance,
I will entice you into playing chosen roles.
With these we shall experiment
until you come to need their dance.
My voice will whisper always in your mind,
and you will never be free from my trance.

That will be the beginning of your training
to be submissive and of erotic use to me.
I have prepared a place in my dungeons
where you will perform as I decree.

I can taste your surrender hot on my tongue.
Soon dear, your seduction will have begun.

Digital Domination

I traced a dominant old thread
back to a website without content,
shut down and forbidden by law.
I used some guile and special code
to recover the clues I needed,
then I danced from node to node
down a strange and random road
until a strange construct asked me
if I was really ready to try Her
latest beta hypnotic mp3 for free.
Before I knew what was happening,
Her voice was streaming my dreams.
I changed from digital to submissive
right before Her avatar and my soul
has never been quite the same.
I have been prisoned in Her server
and live hopeless as Her servant
without any chance of rescue.
I am virtual in my surrender
and a slave to any program
that She might conceive. If there
were a higher power, She is the one
I would worship and believe.
I beg Her to give me mercy,
but She laughs at me and smiles
and won’t release my need.
I count my binary blessings
and follow where She leads.

Feminization: Audio Version

I find purpose in a reflective crystal,
a scent of dry perfume
and a dangled high heel shoe.

There is a voice that tells me this,
and tells me what to do.

I construct the dream
in which these things must occur.

My imagination is the tool
that She uses to manipulate
my own willing complicity -
She steals my ability to choose.

My subconscious helps Her
and I cannot tell it no,
for I am so very sleepy,
my eyelids heavy and slow.

I awaken altered and don’t know
what to do. I’m wearing red lipstick
and pale makeup – I’m dressed
in sexy women’s clothes.

I feel a great need to listen to Her
again and again.

This is my only piece of heaven,
I pray it never ends.

Repetition

Her house is a house of mirrors
and candles that gutter but never fail.
Her voice always whispers through headphones
that are not there and never removed.
I sleep without sleep in her dungeon
in bondage without physical manifestation.
Over and over I feel her trace a finger
across my nipples to the verge my orgasm.
Over and over I surrender more of my soul
to her experiments in psychological control.
There is a joy in surrender when it comes
without conditions and there is no ambiguity.
I love her more than what she does for me.
As I am consumed, we shall both be set free.

Hand in Glove

She conjures a spiral that moves
from Her eyes into my mind.
It sucks my thoughts down one by one
into its maelstrom until they are gone.
The last thing I see with my blank eyes
is the hint of smile crossing Her features
as Her whispers compress ever more forcefully
around my consciousness, pushing
my last thoughts helplessly into the spiral.
I imagine that I have become like a hand
inside a leather glove that is one size too small.
I cannot move easily and feel bound and controlled
by a purpose and directions that are not my own.
Her whispers are like that tight black leather
and Her commands I have no power to resist.
Erotic waves of submission and surrender
overwhelm me. I am now only the aroused
and perfect instrument of Her will.

Hypno-Erotic Amnesia

The more I listen, the less I remember,
but that is what I must want.
I think in the beginning I remembered
almost all, but continued repetition
has brought complete forgetfulness to me.

The conditioning is addictive and strange.
It leaves a taste in my mind
if you can imagine what I mean.
When I come back from the blank intervals
to myself, the empty time pleases me.

And then, there is my body that has been
changed somehow, an arousal that subsides
slowly, and a sensitivity to a voice
that I would know if I heard it
but which I cannot recover alone.

Later, I dream of dark mansions
and decadent bed chambers,
a dominant goddess dressed impossibly
whose face I cannot see.
I no longer know how She uses me.

There’s never a clue as to how I was taken,
whether by a recording, a telephone
session, or in person without warning.
The blankness is the same. I’ve become
Her slave no longer knowing Her name.

Singular Moment

I have a moment,
while my face melts in the mirror,
while my mind refuses to reassemble,
while She is not here.

My skin and my sex are on fire.
I cannot move my limbs.
I hear Her stiletto’s returning,
slowly and penetrating.

I understand where I am.
I understand who She is.
This is where I dreamed I would be.
What I am is Hers.

The whispers begin again.
Her voice violates me
in ways I cannot bear
and want more than anything.

I please Her nipples from a distance.
I kiss Her heels and Her need.
When Her power reaches climax,
I know it is time to kneel.

Dear goddess, mistress and friend,
this is the only fate I crave.
While I am the vessel of your creation,
then I am fulfilled indeed.

Session Residue

Within Her voice,
there is no light or grace,
only obedience.

She controls the senses,
She manipulates memories
to mold them to Her will.

My lips tremble before Her nipples,
then I use them to please Her
with all the skill I own.

My mind is pressed down
and two dimensional by Her words.
I only know Her meaning.

Without thought, I do what I can
to give Her the best climax.
She forgets everything then.

She takes Her time with me after.
She reinforces obedience.
My frustration is used against me.

As I wait in the night, I shiver.
If She does not return to take me.
I shall die undelivered.

Subject of Research: a Sonnet

She studies deep and arcane mysteries.
She becomes aroused when She’s in control.
She accepts mind/body duality
and always wants to exploit what She knows.
I’m the subject of Her experiments,
to be erased, programmed and used again.
I became Her creature by accident,
and now I must obey Her every whim.
After She has used me, She might allow
me the pure pleasure of pleasuring Her.
When Her needs have been met, She makes me vow
in trance to be more a slave than ever.
She is the most dark Mistress of my heart.
I will submit and serve and play my part.

Deconstruction of a Relationship

At first she thought it strange,
but as she rearranged his mind
more and more, she came to enjoy
the feeling that the power exchange
and control aroused in her.

He had so many places for her to explore,
so many secrets to uncover.
She kept him as her lover,
but used him incessantly for other
darker needs she no longer ignored.

For him, weekends arrived and departed
in the blink of an eye. He knew not
what happened or why, only that
when the new week started, he was
a new and different person again.

In her secret room, she tended his fetishes.
Some she removed, others she made flourish,
and a few she just pruned. She yielded
to her love of costumes when she tranced him,
teased him and reinforced his conditioning.

They lived outside the normal limits,
beyond the rational and careless of time.
Their sex was incredible, and their love
complex, curious and intwined.
In these ways, they were perfectly defined.

Harlequin

When She frees Harlequin from Her restraints
and lets him kiss Her elegant gloved hand,
his mind empties and he feels weak and faint.
He kneels slowly and awaits Her commands.
His loins ache under Her intense control
and his need burns away what thought remains.
She owns him now, his body, mind and soul.
She has made him beautiful and insane.
She calls for pleasure and his tongue obeys.
He knows all Her secret erotic zones.
While She writhes in climax, he fades away,
a helpless unreleased submissive drone.
He’s Her precious toy, Her most perfect sin -
She locks him back in Her restraints again.

The Goddess Descends

The laying on of words continued.
The soft voice became more insistent
the more it was lost to distance.
It was like layer upon wrapped layer
of gauze bandage, pulled ever tighter
until it was the only thing in the world.
And yet, it was sensual, it was erotic,
it was an arousal that was controlled
to infiltrate my soul and remove my will.
Somewhere away from here She whispers
and my whole body responds, forcing
what is left of my mind to worship Her.
Every cell strains to obey Her purpose.
Every thought conspires to please Her.
My mouth is dry in singing Her praises.
Her ecstasy is all the direction I need.

Serpent’s Reach

She led him back to the light.
So long had She kept him under
that he had no idea of anything,
not thought, not dream or identity.
All he knew was the erotic snake
She had loosed inside him, its coils
around his loins, its breath cool
upon his nipples, and its venom
dripping slowly to wipe his mind.
The snake connected Her to him
and kept Her on the edge of orgasm.
The candles guttered almost out
and he did not wish to give up
the unimaginable seductive feeling
that was the essence of Her control.
The snake kept moving. In the mirror
She saw in Her eyes intense need.
Her whispers became more insistent
and ragged as She forced him back up.
The hypnotic snake had its own idea
of how to feed Her sexual hunger.
She climaxed again and again
as his tongue rediscovered its purpose.
Her trance had become a part of him
and he could not exist without it.
And so, he remains just beneath the day,
trying to find better ways to serve Her.
She feeds Her snake delicacies
and is never free from arousal.

Old Charleston at Night

Old Charleston holds many secrets
and She is one that no one knows.
Deep in Old Town, gas light shadows
weave the ways to Her dominion.

The air is humid, the air is soft.
I climb the stairs to Her purpose
and settle in a dim waiting room,
losing myself in subliminal surrender.

She emerges slowly from the night.
Her voice a whisper then a command.
With no effort, She controls my need,
then She holds me on the edge.

Repetition and reinforcement force
my willing mind further down
than it knows how to behave.
That is when I know I am a slave.

She uses rapture to create obedience.
She cares but values expedience.
Dear Lady, accept my worship.
Brainwash my devotion into hope.

Old Charleston when She Wakes

Languid and slow Her words entwine my thoughts
and make a thicket from which they cannot go.
I have told Her what I want to happen,
but as Her words flow, I begin to have doubts.
The world slows in this kind of perception.
I feel my loins touched and caressed
by Her invisible hand and insistent demands.
Every moment is Hers to make a certainty
of my obedience to Her perfect divinity.
She binds my sexuality and personal dream
to Her will with that need She might redeem.
I wait upon the moment.
Her choice defines me.

Notification of Absense

This is a notice of inaction
to those who might belong
or not to a particular faction.

I shall be taking a sabbatical
for a time to recharge myself
and my hypnotic batteries.

Some may miss me and some
may say thank goodness,
but which is which I can’t guess.

My special thanks to Isabella
and Maurice who have made such
a wonderful place for us all.

And to every hypnodomme,
I bend my knee and thank you.
You make life a better place to be.

I must thank especially Nikki
whose psyche captivates me,
and Candice who is just divine.

Mistress Joanne has tranced me
perfectly, and Lady Inamorata
was the first to make me see.

Thank you all, and everyone
who makes this group what it is.
It’s very special. Take care of it.

I shall return since I must.
When that shall be, I do not know.
Trance deep and well and slow.

Published with permission of the original artist, simply known as William.
Browse William’s Poetry by Volume:
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