Poems By Dossie Easton

In preparation for Dossie’s visit next April, we are delighted to share two of her fabulous poems about healing BDSM scenes.

Trigger warning: consensual erotic violence


Dossie Easton

Your smile serenely permits        my confusion.

In ritual pace you buckle the cuffs,

each wrist, each ankle,

Carefully. Your confidence allows my nervousness...

I giggle. You slap my face:

Face me down, my face down,

Wrist to ankle, ass in the air,

On a moonpath at midnight I am bound for liberation.


You enforce sensuality with kid gloves

All over my skin.

Lingering over the tender places, you pinch. Hard.

You have my attention.

Your fingers explore, now leather, now latex,

The insides of thighs and further inside:

You paint grease on my cunt meticulously, slicking every fold:

Your patience allows my hesitation.

You hold me safe so I can struggle.

I pull and yank and freak myself out

You help me out

Pull me in with the blindfold and the gag:

Breathing slow in the darkness,

I relax. You have my senses.

A cool feeling invades my ass

Stretches me more open than I can.

I reach    I work    I strive    I fail:

You relent.

Give me time, give me clit

A melting warmth, another inch


You hit my ass hard with the heel of your hand

This plug’s too big and


Push it out -

You have my ass.

You tell me I’m all right and

Stroke my back till the shuddering subsides.

I am conquered, and still you encourage

My resistance with your cane.

Rapid little raintaps everywhere

Wake up, skin!

Raps on my cunt, taps on the plug

Without my will my ass is rocking

like the sea at full moon.

In a mountainous silence

I hear the cane

Slice the air

Brilliant pain

Rolls up my body like a wave


on a rock.

Your hardness allows my dissolving.

One wave breaks on another

Moonstruck like a rising tide:

Each time I think


I twist

I sob

I writhe

I fight

I scream:

You have me,

Soaring like an eagle on a string.

Oh, yes,


Hold me down so I can fly.


Dossie Easton

Black skin, Scarlet tongue,
hard feet horny trample me,
Beloved, Destroyer, my Mother.
Your skin eats light,
utterly round Your hips.
Your arms trap me implacable
In the language of crows You
open me up You
tear me down

Tigress sweaty over me, Your fur scours.
You turn me over, buffet me,
spread my legs with Your great paws.
Your claws, sheathing and unsheathing,
knead my flesh, spilling little streams.
Scarlet Your tongue, bright like persimmons
You lick salt in my wounds.

Your huge tongue
in the language of frogs
rough like starfish
licks my cunt, sucks me dry:
I am not ready.

Where Your rocks meet Your waters in thunder
Your cliffs are dangerous, my Lady
Your tides turn stones back and forth, clicking.
Your rattling in my ear is all the sound of the universe,
deafening me.

Tails of snakes enfold me, muscles
wrap my limbs, crush my chest, I cannot breathe
Shaman’s rattle, diamond back,
Demon Mother, Killing Moon,
eclipse me in Your infinite darkness.

With shining steel nails on fingers and toes
You lift me, shake me, split my skin
spill my life in sticky red streams and then
You let go.

I land empty
dry and rattling:
I have forgotten that I am.
I must be

Many of you will know of Dossie Easton, the renowned co-author of The Ethical Slut and Radical Ecstasy and one of the world's foremost practitioners of conscious kink and personal transformation through BDSM. We are ecstatic to have her coming over to the UK this Spring to co-lead our week long retreat Dancing in the Dark, with Newman.

You can learn more about Dossie at www.dossieeaston.com