Your Normal Average Girl-Next-Door


I am the epitome of that old cliche’

A vixen by night

A schoolmarm by day.

In the light of day, I’m Clark Kent with my glasses on

In the heat of the night, I’m Wonder Woman

Gold whip and all.

I look like your normal, average girl-next-door

But, I don’t cook nor clean

Don’t do windows nor floors.

He picks up the slack and does my bidding

If he wants release

He knows I’m not kidding.

But, if we’re in public and he makes a scene

Onlookers are shocked

To see I’m the Queen.

I refuse to tolerate back-talk or rubbish

And when we get home

He knows he’ll be punished.

Our bedroom looks normal; a typical abstraction

But, open a closet

You might find my dungeon.

I’m not a mean Mistress, not one little bit

He trusts me

As I lead by whip and by wit.

To the rest of the world, our life is average

Few folks would understand

Our Female-Led Marriage.

So we carry on like an average pair

We’ll pretend that we’re normal

So no one will stare.

They’ll say I’m so nice, so normal, so sweet

We’ll look at each other

We know I’m the Queen.

I may seem normal, but if I’m being forthright:

I’m a schoolmarm by day

And a vixen by night.

Diva’s Loving Leadership (c) 2016











Wicked Butterfly


The surface of his ass

looked like a ripe mango.

He flinched when he saw me raise my crop.

The hairs on his backside looked as prickly as a thistle.

They were tempting me to deliver another “thwack”.

I’m sure, one time, he thought that this would be a passing fad.

I’d grow bored with this and put my toys away.

Like his ass-cheeks, his balance sheet is always in the red.

I’ll keep going until I feel his debt’s been paid.

I dropped a cube of ice into a glass and fingered it, lustily.

He longed for the ice to stop the pain that he endured.

I kept him standing there while I took my leave.

Like a wicked butterfly.

Diva’s Loving Leadership (c) 2016