Heel and its companion piece, Said Servant To Master, have been published in All of Me Vol. II, courtesy of Shadow Spark Publishing. Title art is by L.H. Grey.

Listen to Heel by Richard Charles Stevens

Listen to Black Moon Priestess by Skaen

Down boy

Heel

Kneel at my feet

Roll over
Play dead

for the ordeal you’re facing is one you entreat

Such puppy dog eyes
Such whimpering cries

It feels almost cruel to

Penalize

I almost care
I’m almost prepared
to play fair

Not quite

What kind of host would I be
if I tossed you a key

If I slid off the shackles
and let you walk free

Do I look like the type
Is that how you’d describe

your Lord and your Master
when your hands remain tied

Do I look like I’d bend
Make pretend

or distend
such a pardon to one who took time to come by

This dank oubliette
is no place for regret

Not yet
when there are still so many rules to be set

Call it tryst if you will
I insist on goodwill

Now slather my boot
From its

Zipper

to

                    heel

It’s a view to a kill from up here
I’ll review your appeal from up here

and should you displease me then you’ll just
Disappear

I’m a butcher you see
know my way around gristle

will be too busy carving
to hear your tin whistle

You’ll abide my command
or I’ll slit this here gland

There’s no place in this chamber
for such trite contraband

Would I falter
Fumble

Ten-inch patent heels
Make it easy to stumble

Or perhaps I’ll come over all humble

Think again
And again

Make the most of your last

Soon be passed

Is that a solitary tear I discern

Is your spirit broken

A token gesture

I’d much rather your vesture

The very pelt from your marrow I’ll cleave

and that bleeding red heart I’ll retrieve

If I wish

Or maybe I’ll make you my slave
Seems a waste just to
Spit on your grave

I’d much rather spit in your face

You fucking disgrace

oh bless

Are those feelings I’ve hurt

Have I been too curt

Does the rasp of my breath

Disconcert

Lift that chin from the dirt

Look into my eyes

Do they falsify

are they not a midsummer night’s dream

is not their reflection serene

Contravene
If you find such suggestion obscene

Overruled

Free will
is just blood yet to spill

We’re not done by a very long stretch

Now fetch

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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