literature

Sensual Torture

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Sensual Torture:

You are but a simple pawn;
Caught in a maelstrom of ill feelings and turmoil.
You were not meant to be here -
But unfortunately, here you are my friend...

Now then, I do not wish to drag this out;
There is no purpose in badgering someone who knows so little.
However - without your confession - I'm afraid that
I would not know whom I should share my - pleasures with...

Though I'm certain that you will be sharing plenty...

Of course, it will probably be a poor idea to make you scream,
At least not while I'm still enjoying your fear.
Instead we'll begin with a simple agony;
A quick taste of your pain to whet my appetite...

We'll begin with just a thin incision,
One that is made in the center of both your eyelids.
And then, then we'll make another cut - this one just above the eyes...

Ah, I will adore the feeling of watching your skin peel apart
As the scalpel bites in and draws it aside; much like the curtain
Set upon a theatre stage. It is the signal for our show to begin.

The pain and the pressure of blinking with torn eyelids
Will most likely force you to scrunch up your entire face.
And as you endure this agonizing trial, the first droplet of blood
Will slowly ride down toward your wounded eyes;
A gentle river of red, flowing down your skin.

It will eventually fall against your Sclera, searing it, burning it
It will make you blink and shiver with pain as your body jerks and convulses.
An endless cycle of discomfort and suffering, as that which should relieve it
Perpetuates it for an eternity...

That my friend, is when you truly realise what I can do with you
That is when you will pray to your gods for release; but none will come.
And I shall enjoy every moment of watching your mind break
As I gently and tenderly lick the cold sweat away from your neck.

The taste of fear, the gasps of air that are locked within your lungs;
A sensual torture that is beyond imagining. This pain, this pleasure
Is my gift to you. It is my art, my worship and my devotion
To the Lady whom I serve eternally.

Now tell me my dearest Bishop:

"Where is the temple keeping my loving queen Morgana?"

-Chen Yuan Wen, 3rd November 2012
Please take a moment to fave my work, it adds to my popularity ranking and really let's me know you've enjoyed my work ^^

If you'd like to hear me read this poem LIVE and do a little comedy then then check out episode 4 of my live show here: [link]

Author's Comment:

Arrr maties, this be me last official poem before me hiatus (I may still write on some days t' take a break). I'll be back full time on the 20th of November with another comeback episode on the 21st (where I'll do multiple readings of poems).

Anyway, about this poem itself. It's actually a scene preview for the story I'll be working on over the summer, containing an ALL NEW writing format that I've created. It's a Chen-style format and it will allow me to combine first-person and third-person writing. Want to see it? It's coming!

The scene I used is actually the main protagonist (though he's a villain) of the series, torturing one of the temple's Bishops. This character, Lin'Chen the Necromancer, is a dark and clearly sadistic individual with deep knowledge of pain. I mean common devices like thumb screws and the rack are all nice, but this is something you can do just by strapping someone in a chair and keeping them tied down. He prefers an elegant torture, because pain is an art and inflicting it is worship/devotion.

To those who requested the really sadistic darkness, I hope that this satisfies you. I certainly enjoyed writing it mmm...

Pirate accent will also be back on the 21st wh00

-Captain Chenbeard o' th' Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

Other Poems by Me:
An Oath to My FatherAn Oath to My Father:

The chill of winter is nothing, when compared to the cold inside my heart.

A fire, once stoked by the warmth of family, has quietly died, five falls past.

I dream of my father, who watches from beyond the realms - and my ancestors

Who fought against an endless army of giants, to win the lands we have today.

Just as a devout man honours his God through worship, I honour them through my axe!

Each stroke of the whetstone, each screech of the metal, brings me closer to them -

Even as I draw closer to my doom. Oh how I can feel him, for the anger in my blood

Boils evermore as I sense him approaching my camp. He is hun
This is Halloween!This is Halloween:

Boys and girls of every age
Wouldn't you like to see something strange?

Come with me and you will see
The friends I've hung down from this tree...

This is Halloween, this is Halloween
Corpses scream in the dead of night!

This is Halloween, everybody make a scene
Trick or treat till the neighbors gonna die of fright.
It's our town, everybody scream!
In this town of Halloween...

I am the one hiding under your bed;
Licking your hand with a tongue so red and -

I am the one crawling up your stairs,
Thump-thump-drag, when no one's there...

This is Halloween, this is Halloween

Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Hallo
There are Things Beneath the GardenThere Are Things Beneath the Garden:

~

There are things beneath the garden,
Which you really shouldn't see.

There are things beneath the garden,
That don't belong to me.

There are things beneath the garden,
Gone rotten blue and black.

There are things beneath the garden,
In a dripping gunny sack...

~

There are flowers in the garden,
Which you really shouldn't pull.

There are flowers in the garden,
That sit on top of wool.

There are flowers in the garden,
With a really rotten scent.

There are flowers in the garden,
Above bodies burnt and bent...

~

I love this little garden,
It's a special place to me.

I love this little g


Other Literature by Me:
Mercenary 1-1MERCENARY

Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty

Release One: Pages 1 - 3

THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si
© 2012 - 2024 WordOfChen
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Dizzy-Rae's avatar

Wheesh! Well Capt'n, I gotta hand you freddy. No need for sudden distaste and/or confusiion, freDdy's just whatl mine ownself calls 'genuine praise'. N that aint no bullocks, neither. Don't trust me, and I shudd know; im the epitome of ..... good.- ness..??