joannebest











{September 2, 2015}   Who Owns Who

catman
like a kitty needing to curl up near You
i purr at Your touch
scenting You, much like
the way You left Your mark on me,
waiting patient and still
i crawl in Your direction at the sound of Your voice,
as i feel the pull of Your invisible leash
attached to my invisible collar,
alert and ready to leap across the room
or strut slow and low, tail in the air
searching for the slightest bit of Your attention
a gentle nip leads to a salty lick,
cat-like signs of devotion
yet it never crosses my mind
who owns who
catwoman

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{July 25, 2013}   Like Pavlov’s Dog

black and white sillhouette
how is it
that
you hold all the power
and me
right in the palm of your hand
with  nothing more than the ringing of a bell
i come running like Pavlov’s dog
tongue hanging out and drooling
patient pet waiting for her master
a pat on the head or a good hard belly rub
any and all attention
brings me to my knees
panting for more



{July 11, 2013}   One Muse Or Another

devilmuse
The back door slams so hard the entire house shakes around me.
I hear the loud crash of a mirror shatter in another room and I flinch.
My muse is back and apparently not in a very good mood.
This is getting ridiculous. I haven’t written a word in days, since she last left me actually, but I’m not about to give her the satisfaction of knowing-
“Don’t even think you can hide anything from me missy, I’m not her.”
I shiver at the piercing sound of an unfamiliar voice coming from an almost familiar sight, she’s my muse, but not.
A distorted funhouse version of my muse towers over me, her eyes dagger-like as she stares me down, freezing me in place.
“Clichés,” she spits out the word, her breath, fetid and frozen slides over my skin leaving my body encased in an icy coating.
As I begin to tremble from the cold, microscopic cracks weaken the ice, tiny flakes falling from my flesh dissipating into nothing.
I open my mouth to speak and she grabs a handful of my hair, yanking hard.
“You don’t speak until I say you can speak,” she growls. She cracks me across the face with so much force I fly across the room, landing in a heap on the floor.
“There are rules missy,” she grabs me by the hair again as I attempt to crawl in the direction of outside my house.
I spit out a mouthful of blood, along with several back teeth.
“I don’t follow rules,” I tell her as I wipe a hand across my bloody mouth.
After an eternity of silence she speaks.
“You don’t need them anyway,” she sneers. “Back teeth, not rules. Although some rules are meant to be broken, just like you.”
“I-”
“-always wanted that hollow-cheek-boned look, isn’t that what you meant to say?”
She crouches down to my level, her head cocked curiously.
Staring at me intensely she examines everything I am and appears almost puzzled. She’s puzzled? How the fuck does she think I feel? And where the hell is my muse?
“You’ve never been trained have you?”
She snaps her blood-tipped fingers and a riding crop appears in her perfect hands.
I push myself up, I’m halfway to my knees when I notice the jeans I’ve been wearing have turned into black silky thigh-high stockings complete with spiked heels and an extremely tight corset.
“I’m not an animal, I don’t need to be trained.” I squirm uncomfortably at what suddenly seems to be a lie falling from my lips.
“Well you’re a miserable excuse for a human little girlie, I’d go with the pet label if I were you.”
“What did you do to her?” I don’t have to take this shit, this is my house. “Where’s my muse?”
“I don’t believe I gave you permission to question anything, especially me,” her voice drips icicles suspended in mid-air. “You’re not so good when it comes to following orders are you…don’t answer that.”
The handle of her riding crop trails along my spine and my body trembles involuntarily.
She taps her lethal heels against the floor, one finger sliding slow and sensual across her bottom lip as if she were deciding whether she should devour me or not. Her eyes give nothing away.
“Be a good little pet and go into the parlor said the spider to the fly. I’m not exactly sure what to do with you just yet.”
In the blink of an eye I’m shackled to my very own straight-backed chair, hands behind my back, legs apart and unable to move.
“Where is she?” I can’t stand this feeling, not being in control of my own muse is one thing, but this, I don’t even know what this is.
“I need her,” I unexpectedly utter.
“You need her,” she mimics me, sarcasm drips heavy from every word she says. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing when you beg.”
“I don’t beg,” I tell her.
“You will,” she snaps. “By the time I’m done with you, you will.”
I notice she holds a scarf of some sort in her hands and my mind suddenly fills with images of me blindfolded and helpless.
“Oh this isn’t for your eyes baby girl.”
Silk cloth slides smooth against my skin as she wraps it loosely around my throat.
God help me she’s going to strangle me.
“Wrong as usual,” she chortled. “This is for your mouth, to shut you up for awhile. I have a demonstration to present and I command silence.”
She snaps her fingers again and the taste of silk slides down my throat. Concurrently a huge screen drops from my ceiling filled with images flashing fast and furiously.
I recognize no-one yet everything I see seems familiar.
“Now shut your mouth,” she says softly as one finger reaches for the cloth gagging me, “In a manner of speaking, that is.”
“Pay attention to details missy, there may be a pop quiz later.”
She giggles at a private joke I’m not in on as the scenes on the screen speed up. The flashing images catch an unholy glimmer in her eyes and one strong hand comes down on my head, forcing me to watch.
“I’m going to show you what a real writer can do.”
I swallow a scream at the sight on the screen.
“This is just the beginning.” Her mouth doesn’t move as she speaks, her words imprint themselves on my brain.
“Buckle up girlie-girl, it really is going to be a bumpy ride.”
Her laugh is maniacal as I come undone.
emogrl
to be continued…



{May 1, 2013}   Top Dog

They huddled together in the cold night air pack-like, huffing and puffing and
sniffing the air for the slightest trace of challenge.

He’d picked up her scent before the rest of them, mixed in with the smell of
cigarettes, pheromones and stale beer. His body reacted instinctive,
blood pounding, bones and muscle poised to shift into the animal he hid beneath
his clothes.

He took a long pull off his beer to keep himself from growling as she turned
the corner with a sassy step, an unlit cigarette dangling from her perfect
red-stained mouth.

The rest of them, the mistaken others who thought they had a chance with her
rushed forward, lighters ablaze, shouldering each other aside just to be the
one to provide her with anything she wanted.

He held himself back. Cocksure and confidant of his position as leader of the
pack he leaned against the wall watching.

His suppressed growl morphed into a barely discernible chuckle as he watched
her skillfully make her way through the near-panting males till she came to a
full stop in front of him.

He cocked an eyebrow as her delicate fingers reached up and slid his cigarette
from his lips to light her own, mirth bubbling behind her blue eyes as they met
his.

“Thanks,” was all she said outloud.

Her body language said the rest as she slouched against the same cold brick
wall deliberately brushing her shoulder against his.

His nostrils flaring as her strong scent filled the invisible bubble around the
two of them was the only show of the effect she had on him.

The rest of the pups around them did their best to inch closer to her but they
escaped her notice.

She knew who she belonged to.

She was his perfect pet.



et cetera