SIOWSA by Jazzle Dunne



Strap it on when it seems appropriate 
Stephen King wrote in a novel
In my minds eye I saw myself man up 
To transcend femininity with a prop 
To see my strength stick out 
Proud, unyielding and intimidating
Freud would say I have penis envy
Because my father treated me like a boy
I’m sure Freud would also have something
To say about it being kept in the top draw
Not in the bedroom but under the skylight
In the hallway, next to clean laundry drying.
I love standing in front of the mirror wearing it 
Wrapping my hands around it, the head peeks 
Out refusing to hide, desperate to be buried. 
To assert its solidity in the softness of flesh 
To be pulled in and out of the depths of lust 
My cunt reminds me my balls are within me 
To create life, afforded feminine protection 
I love the way the strap on fills me 
As I masturbate, my cum coating it
Content that I cannot get pregnant
As I run a marathon most men couldn’t
It reminds me that as a woman I can be
My own man, providing sexual happiness
No fuss around my period, getting dirty 
Smearing my blood upon myself
Trying to avoid getting it on the bedding
I love the way it stretches me, my cunt gripping 
The way it softens the cervix, digging deep
My belly and hips trembling, my clit feels
Like firework display twitching bursts of pleasure


It’s a replica of my One’s dick
I fantasise he is in my body, the one
Being penetrated by himself, a phantom me.
I imagine him tied spread Eagle to the bed.
His knees bent, legs wide, hands cuffed
Hips pinned, back arching. My hands caressing his chest lightly making him jolt like he’s being electrocuted from my fingertips.
I think about the way I would enter him
The way I would get him slowly accustomed
To the painful stretching of his arsehole
Watch his eyes grow moist and regretful
Because he knows he’s in for it
He’s going to get as good as he gave
My hands will keep his shaft occupied
They will stroke and tug him into pleasure
He will surrender himself to me willingly
To take and ravish him, a puppet to my desires
It gets me so wet thinking about how his
Neck will be taunt and he’ll ask me to slap him
Tell me he wants it harder because he’s bad
He’s inconsistent and loves it when I’m angry
I want to completely sink myself into him
For him to be so full of me that he’s torn in two
I want to feel him spray his juices over me
As I’ve pushed him into nirvana, leave him spent and gaping as I tenderly withdraw

Jazzle Dunne has been writing for 16 years on a wide range of topics. A Roundhouse and Barbican Young Poet Alumni, performing across London. Jazzle’s work has been described as deep, succinct and fun.

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