valentine's day yayness

the contract is signed. happy valentine's day to me! lol of course, he made me earn it. (for any of you that are wondering... crawling across a room blindfolded, gagged and partially bound with rope with  nipples and labia tethered with rather pinchy things to something that really doesn't want to move much... tough fucking stuff! but he was on the other side of the room.....) oh and i officially suck at begging... especially when emotion is involved.. me dissolving into needy tears is pretty much the result of that. at least i made it far enough to ask... :D
i love having these reminders of my place and of him... my anklet, my bracelet, my collar (hemp choker.. yay!) it's an amusing game to see just how many of them i can get away with wearing at once. the collar will take getting used to, though, because after wearing it a while it gets itchy as fuck. gonna have to do something about that. 
but yeah. that's my update for now.. i'm too happy right now to wax all poetic and shtuff. 
'til next time..
~surri

so incredibly happy!

words are insufficient to say how wonderful this weekend was. to kneel at my Owner's feet and hear him tell me he loves me and that he is proud that i am his. to finally have more than my bruises to remind me who i belong to. to have the freedom to spend every moment i can wrapped around his leg with my head on his knee. 
words fail me. 
happiness is too dim a word. but i cannot contain my joy. 

is leis-sean mé;  is mise a sheilbh.

is eisean mo Rogha, mo Coimeádaí, agus mo Úinéir.

:D

~surri

January's poems

Ferocious submission

Want, with claw, scraping demand
Steadily wresting control from my hands
Ripping veil, snaring thought
Forcing, shoving, my body taut
Causing wanton, wild, and restless overwhelming need to rend
Fight, molest, and wrestle down ‘til sweat and growl are sound and scent
Know that everything I’m bringing, feral creature I’ve become,
Is still a being you can conquer, let me see just how you’ve won.
Force me down upon my knees, keep me in my place.
Create an aching quivering mass as all of me that remains
To wait again for quiet voice, a casualty of heartening war,
To grasp, when I regain myself, that you contain the whole once more.

© surrina booke 2012



know

Abraded skin, bruises, welts
Behind a veil of clothing felt

Sealed beneath guise accepted
Tucked away to be protected

Loving aches with every bend
Each gifted wound I treasure tend

Once a mask I found so vile
With shift and fake now brings a smile

Raise a hand to hide the grin
That shows I've let my true self win

© surrina booke 2012



the marks

I had forgotten, but
Stroking the marks, I drift to dream
Stoking the fires of each vivid stroke
Though, for now, they’re banked
Each pass of fingers over welts
Causing coals to spark and glow
Resurrecting hum and moan
Though instruments be stored away
A touch on decorated flesh
These purpled lines burn life again
Like ashes for the phoenix
To who and what I’m meant to be
With remembrance, me

© surrina booke 2012



Clutch

Wrapped and grasping
Moves the heart
From chest to throat
With such an art
Containing each
Recurring beat
And with it, brims
A honeyed feat
Pounding candor,
Tinctured me.
Pulsed and waiting
Collar’s seat

© surrina booke 2012