Six Word Poem: Solitude

Love to be alone and unavailable.
Diva’s Loving Leadership (c) 2016


Won’t Get Fooled Again


I can always tell

How horny he is

Not based on

How his hard

Little penis

Peeps through

His pants

But rather

Based on

How much effort

He puts

Into doing things

Right the first time

Without being asked

He knows

It makes me horny

It’s a little passive-aggressive

Trick he’s learned

If I give in

And let him fuck me

He will go

Right back

To doing it wrong

All the time

I will just

Take matters

Into my own hands

Until I see consistent

Positive behavior

Only then

Will he be rewarded

With positive feedback

The horny little devil

Will have to work

Harder and longer

Before I let him

Have his way

With me.

Diva’s Loving Leadership (c) 2016




He was summoned

To the cellar

For another

Discipline hearing.

The vast amount of candles

Warmed the air

With the aroma of vanilla

But he braced

His bare feet

Against the cold

Cement floor.

This was nothing

Like the cozy

Motel room

They used to meet in

But it was more

Private and personal.

He had summoned

The courage

To yell

At his mistress

About the lack of justice

Between them.

She offered him

His freedom

As justice in exchange

For his outburst.

If he stayed

He would face

Another form of justice

At the end

Of her crop.

He had a choice

To summon

The courage to leave

Or to summon

The courage to face

Her justice.

He summoned the courage

To stay.

Diva’s Loving Leadership (c) 2016


Tea and Strumpet


I was feeling kind of wicked

So I rung him for my tea

As he approached me

With a tray of tea and milanos

I extended my barefoot, slightly

And tripped him.

His face

His entire body turned red

He apologized profusely

As he began to clean up

From the spill.

With his face

Inches away from my feet

I hiked up my skirt

And spread my bare legs

He turned more red

As he noticed

My legs were not

The only thing bare

Under my skirt.

It did not take him long

To clean up his mess

As a reward

I gave him a chance

To attempt to make me cum

Before I was done with the milanos.

Diva’s Loving Leadership (c) 2016



A Little Tantrum, A Little Torture


Every time

He has a little tantrum

He gets a little torture.

He plays the harp

Begging me forgiveness

For some nonsense

He shouldn’t have said.

I chip a nail

As I use the crop

Reddening his ass

For the third time this week.

He’s going to be locked

In chastity for that

Much longer

He can blame his little tantrum

But every chance I get

I wear my tightest jeans

While bending over

Within inches of his cock

And tie my own shoelaces


Into neat little bows.

Every time

He has a little tantrum

He gets a little torture.

Diva’s Loving Leadership (c) 2016