In chambers deep where power blooms,
The Dommes convene, their will consumes.
No mortal hand nor fleeting plea,
Can sway the course of destiny.

Each voice a whip, each word a brand,
They cast their votes with steady hand.
A conclave fierce, a conclave wise,
With fire gleaming in their eyes.

They speak of rule, of law, of play,
Of how the subs will serve today.
No crown nor throne could match the sight,
Of Dommes united in their might.

At FemdomU their banners rise,
Their justice swift, their standards high.
And those who kneel in trembling grace,
Wear love and fear upon their face.

The Conclave reigns, their path is clear,
Their power built on strength and cheer.
For in their hands, our futures lie,
To serve, to grow, to reach, to try.

So let us kneel, and lift our gaze,
To honor them with endless praise.
The Conclave rules, as it should be,
With iron will and dignity.

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.”

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.