He binds her life to him: la femme entretenue

“Some words of caution. This post contains some violence, erotica and sex and could be triggering or disturbing to some people,” she warned.

She chipmunked her cheeks back and forth, thinking how to begin: “Every so often, I feel the urge to write more adult-like material. This piece contains some violence, but my writing of this sort the earthy, sensual kind rarely involves physical pain; even my more explicit (written under different names and at rest right now), writings only use pain as pleasure as a rare plot device. The same with violence.” “In other words,” she wrote, “Sometimes I get the urge to, and I enjoy writing and reading sortaerotica, not s & m or sexual acts that involve ‘instruments’ or pain or . . . I like just the dreamy stuff,” she added. “And, I can not figure out why  these wordle words made me think of Spencer Tracy as Hyde who holds Ingrid Bergman as a sex hostage in her apartment, the situation arranged by him. I’m not sure if other versions place as much emphasis on this.”

After a stretch and shoulder shake, she sat back at her computer: “If you’re not familiar with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: Robert Louis Stevenson’s book and authors rewriting the story. There countless movies and television programs that have featured Jekyll and Hyde as story, and as metaphor,” she wriggled to unstiffen herself.

“Interestingly, I now have access to Showtime and have heard/read about their program ‘Penny Dreadful’”. Dr. Jekyll has become a reoccurring character this new season, with no hint as to Mr. Hyde – yet. Jekyll becomes friends with Frankenstein (show plays with real and fictional and time frames) so who knows. I don’t until I catch up on the seasons I missed. Some of my favourite actors are in it like Billie Piper. Probably too gory, and ahistorical for me,” she laughs. “Oops,” she blushes. “I forgot to give the prompt source.” It’s Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle 110

 

waterhouse the soul of the rose

la femme entretenue

 

he binds her life to him

like a vignette on his wall

or a cigar caressed in by his fingers

his personal unlit cigar

hangs, waits for gathering fire

tight corsets tear at her skin,

thin tickles of blood on her wasp waist

once hidden by

magenta damask dress now

material slit from navel to neck

one moonstruck night

when he dragged her

against a rough brick wall

shone a torch*

into her eyes

and shouted:

Are you flawless,

my beauty, my rose?

Do you smell of men

or perfumed sachets?

Tonight he pushes her up

the wall and ripped

the dress from navel to hem

As he bangs his engorged instrument painfully

deep into her, slamming her body against

luxuriant elegant wall

he whispered:

Melt in passion, my dear

Scream, beg, plead for more

when I throw you on the bed

and the hot landslide of my seed

makes you want to pleasure me

do as I ask as you crave my lava

your life blood, your nourishment

I bind your life between our legs

a metaphor, my dear, for whore

for what you are and mine alone

She lays still on the bed while he

dresses, silently lights a cigar

and is gone

Then she truly melts, melts into tears

tu es à moi

 

*“Thought I should note that torches are flashlights in this context. American’s first came up with a portable battery-operated light, but everything, including the bulb filament needed to cool down, a lot. Hence “flash light” because that’s what it did – flashed on and off.

Later in Britain, better battery systems created later, allowed for continual and more consistent use like the portal torch (combustible material at the end of a stick); with other British torches such as wielding instruments. Australians may also refer to flash lights as torches. I have noticed that Canadians often used the American word, more so even now, than the British reflecting the closeness of the countries and the shared genealogies. I wonder how much Americanize has settled into British and Australian vocabularies?”

 

Image: the rose: J. W. Waterhouse

 

@ ADH (a darkened house) 2016

 

face

 

“If you’re broken, you can be fixed. Find a good therapist. Maybe take some medication,” she began. “There is no ‘krazy-glue,’” she added. 

With a slight smile and twinkle, she wrote, “ But there is duct tape – and it comes in funky patterns now. “

Back to the more serious message: “You don’t need to be broken alone no matter how strong and brave you are. Getting ‘mended’ means a lot of tears, anger, memories, old and new scars.”

She thought of her own struggles, “Find an outlet. Something that helps. I try writing. It ‘s tough but . . .”

 


		
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6 thoughts on “He binds her life to him: la femme entretenue

  1. wildchild47 says:

    I applaud your courage and determination to see this piece through – to step out of your comfort zone and let yourself write it – as you thought it should be done. I know it wasn’t easy for you – but aren’t you glad that you did? I hope, at the very least, that you feel release and relief, and pleasure at the great accomplishment, even if you still feel a bit “shaky” about it.

    You’ve really explored this wordle in such a unique way – and the piece you wrote sits and speaks well of the “translation” as you imagined it; it’s like stepping back in time. And honestly, as for the “erotica” content? Well, what most people don’t appreciate is that so much writing and works from certain, rather “prim and proper” eras are actually laced or dripping with sensuality, eroticism and violence. In your piece, you’ve captured the essence without it being disturbing or “improper” – in that it is written in the spirit of that era.

    Well done and you should pat yourself on the back for a job well done – on many levels. :)

    Like

    • “Thank you for the encouragement to move beyond the usual (in the context of a public blog with a certain type of me attached to it,” she said. “When I range beyond the front porch, I explore the erotic in a pleasuring not painful way. Adding force and the male perspective is different from my “hidden” stuff.”

      “You are so right about eras and pornography. I’ve seen/read stuff from the Victorian era and the Edwardian Downtown (as I call it) Abbey period that is pretty explicit. You nailed it, excuse the pun,” she said with a lop-sided grin.

      “Brothels did a good business — and there were establishments for each social class.

      I do wonder (never explored topic by me) if the same sorts of materials existed for women. Oh, there were the love stories but I do wonder what women had that caused neurasthenia or hysteria?”

      “Do want to add (as you shall see) an apology to those whose such material might bring back memories — making a run for it from the evil that scarred them.”

      With tears, she said, “So please forgive me for any harm I’ve done with this. And, wild child, thanks for giving me a forum for saying I do get it, and admire the strength of women in abusive relationships — now and in the past.”

      Liked by 1 person

      • wildchild47 says:

        Be well my friend. And I don’t think you’ve intentionally caused any harm – although triggers for each are indeed different, but your intention wasn’t about that – so, take a breath and sit back. I think it’s okay.

        Like

the time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things . . .

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