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Welcome to the Femdom Poetry section, where words become a symphony of submission and dominance. In this captivating corner of our magazine, we celebrate the art of expression through verse, exploring the depths of femdom dynamics, desire, and power exchange. From sonnets to free verse, each poem offers a unique exploration of the intricate dance between dominant women and submissive men, inviting readers to immerse themselves in the beauty and intensity of femdom relationships. Whether you’re drawn to the sensuality of seduction or the raw emotion of surrender, join us as we journey through the poetic landscape of femdom, where every line is a testament to the intoxicating allure of female dominance.

She Teaches Spidey to Serve

She Teaches Spidey to Serve

Swinging through the city, feeling so spry,
Spidey met a woman with a glint in her eye.
Black leather, red lips, a dominant stance,
She smirked and said, “Time to enhance.”

“You fight so well, you flip and you spin,
But there’s one great skill you’re lacking within.
All that agility, all that speed—
Yet you don’t know how to serve with your knees?”

Spidey gulped, his mask pulled tight,
This wasn’t a lesson he’d learned in a fight.
“Uh, Miss, I—well, I do my best!”
She laughed and purred, “Then let’s run a test.”

She climbed on top, took her throne,
A lesson in service—no web, just moan.
She grabbed his curls, guided him near,
“Slow it down, make me cheer.”

He flicked, he licked, he learned with grace,
No villain to fight, just lips in place.
His Spidey Sense? Now fully awake—
His tongue? A weapon, for pleasure’s sake.

At last, she sighed, stretched with delight,
“Good boy, Spider—now do it all night.”

The Ultimate Goddess Dominatrix

The Ultimate Goddess Dominatrix

She stands so tall, so fierce, so bold,
A Goddess wrapped in red and gold.
With cuffs of steel and eyes that burn,
She bends the world—it’s Hers to turn.

No chains can hold her, none withstand,
Her lasso tight in mighty hands.
But when she ties, it’s not to save—
You kneel, you beg, you must obey!

Her voice commands, her whip cracks loud,
A Queen before a trembling crowd.
“On your knees, now bow real low,
Speak the words—I own your soul.”

She rides to war, she rules with grace,
A smirk upon her perfect face.
You worship, serve, adore, obey,
She leaves you broken, begs no stay.

No hero’s role—no damsel’s part,
She takes the world, she takes your heart.
With Amazonian strength, divine allure,
This Wonder Woman reigns—supreme and pure.

Scent of a Woman

Scent of a Woman

It lingers soft, it clings so sweet,
A fragrance rich, a spell complete.
Not bottled, bought, or sprayed with care,
But something raw—it fills the air.

The scent of power, the scent of sin,
The musk of Her against my skin.
It wraps me up, it pulls me close,
A drug, a need I crave the most.

Leather, spice, a wicked tease,
A whisper floating on the breeze.
The heat, the sweat, the trace she leaves,
It haunts my breath—I want to breathe.

I close my eyes, I sink, I drown,
She purrs, “Good boy, now get back down.”
Her scent, my leash, the air I take,
A perfume made for me to break.

She Makes Me Scream and I Like It

She Makes Me Scream and I Like It

She ties me down, she takes her time,
Her wicked grin? A sin, a crime!
I beg, I plead, “Oh no, not that!”
She only laughs—I’m trapped, I’m trapped!

She makes me twist, she makes me squirm,
She makes me cry out every term!
“Yes, Mistress! Please! I’m on my knees!”
She grips me tight—I’m hers to tease!

A flick, a smack, a sharp command,
I arch, I writhe at her demand!
I scream, I moan, I gasp, I break—
She giggles sweet, “How much can you take?”

She pushes, pulls, she wrings me out,
I thrash, I buck, I scream and shout!
But do I run? Oh no, not quite…
I scream… and moan… ‘cause it feels so right.

The Tale of the Sore Sub

The Tale of the Sore Sub

Oh dear, oh no, oh what a fix!
My poor, poor dick—it’s been through tricks!
It’s flopped, it’s throbbed, it’s bruised, it’s sore,
I begged for rest—but they screamed, “MORE!”

First it was Mistress, tapping her cane,
Then came her friend—and they took me again!
Then a guest! Then a pair! Then a line out the door!
And just when I thought, “Surely no more…!”

A knock! A smile! A devilish grin!
“Oh good! You’re up! Let’s go again!”
I tried to protest, I tried to explain,
But no one would listen—they rode through the pain!

They tied me down, they climbed on top,
My poor dick twitched— but it wouldn’t stop!
It flopped, it flailed, it flinched, it ached,
Yet they demanded! And so it obeyed.

I screamed, “PLEASE, just five minutes flat!”
But Mistress said, “Oh hush, you brat.”
So up she went, she took her seat,
And POOF! There went my final beat.

Now here I lay, a useless lump,
A battered, broken, lifeless stump.
Mistress laughs, she pats my head,
“A night well spent—now go to bed!”

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