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The Mistress Poem
Chi Chi Valenti
What is your interest in female domination?
A leather-clad goddess whom I might worship and serve, ma’am.
Full leather is available, if certain terms are understood in advance
Yes mistress
You are not permitted to touch the mistress above the knee
Yes, mistress
The bare foot may or may not be offered
Yes mistress
The mistress does not disrobe at any time in the session
Of course, mistress
The mistress will never touch you there
Of course not, mistress
A tribute must be offered from a suitable kneeling position
Yes mistress
You will surrender all individual will from the time the session begins
Oh yes mistress
You will be branded irrevocably with her will and possibly marked for life
Yes mistress
You will spend hours and weekends desparate in Jersey shopping malls, dreaming of her graceful booted foot while you try to ignore your wife’s pastel sneakers
You honor me, mistress
You will search for her in Meat Market sex clubs, taunted by her cruel sorority sisters
Yes, mistress
You will appear early for your appointment and she will make you wait in her dressing room, listening to unspeakable cries and jealous of the slave "Can he take more than I?"
Oh, thank you mistress
You will phone her for reassurance, starved for her voice and she will be colder than January on East 23rd Street
Oh, yes, mistress
You will phone her again, desparate and broken, trembling long-distance and she won’t even take your call
Oh, yes mistress
Then you’ll phone someone else, somewhere else, and even show up but you’ll leave in ten minutes after paying for the hour cause the boots weren’t right and the room wasn’t right and her junkie perfume just wasn’t in there, not that night, anyway
Oh, yes, mistress
Then back in her good graces you’ll rob your own children to take her shopping at Joseph’s and Manic Panic
Oh yes mistress
And she’ll make you buy an expensive gift for your wife, fifty dollar Chanel soaps, three of them, as you gulp imagining presenting such extravagance to the Missus
Oh thank you, mistress
Then every time you see a Chanel ad you’ll begin to tremble again, a slave’s palsy, remembering her cruel laughter and how the sissy counter clerk seemed to be laughing with her too
Oh yes, mistress
Your mind so far gone at this point that you imagine him her houseboy and wonder if she’d like you more in drag
Do you think she would, mistress?
Your mind so far gone at this point that you fantasize cutting off your dick and having lesbian sex with her
If that is her wish, mistress
Your mind so far gone at this point that you who used to vomit at two queers holding hands are now getting buggered quite regularly
Oh yes, mistress
Your mind once so sure of priorities and deep, personal politics, now scheming only for money to see her more often
Your mind that once spoke fluent French and remembered stock prices
Your mind that breathlessly pushes the eighth floor button
Your mind that once longed to free Nelson Mandella
Now running to the slave boat, as eager for the leg-irons as for the mulatto mistress who wields them
Your mind that she has exquisitely altered
Your mind a ruined city, the streets overrun with wolves and she it’s mad emperor
Your mind that’s her chattel now
Enslaved at last, enslaved at last
Thank god almighty
Enslaved at last
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A bio of Ms Valenti can be found HERE.
pssst. secret code: 2TQJQCFB6MHR
