The Slaughter Fantasies

In my dream,
my secret fantasy,
it is 2009,
you and I are a couple.

I relive the past
but I edit the details.

I know that you’re disloyal;
I know that you consistently violate
our rules on exclusivity…
but I never tell you that I know
and so our relationship never ends.

Your bad behavior;
your lies turn me on
to a degree that the truth
would never allow.

I want you to lie.
I need you to lie.
But I also need to know that you’re doing it,
or there is no pleasure for me.

In the actual past
I didn’t quite understand this
about myself
and so I was hurt,
aroused and hurting
(and very confused as a result),
but to be fair,
in reality,
I needed to protect myself.

In the dream
there is no threat of disease
and no hurt feelings,
and when I beat off
I don’t worry about any of that as a result.

In the dream I lie to you too.
I manipulate you.
I make sure that you have the time
and space and all that is required
to allow you your eroticised deceptions.

But it’s your choice to lie
and your choice to be unfaithful,
and knowing that
you’ve made this choice
excites me.

I give you housewarming gifts,
a pair of clocks, or maybe stuffed animals,
for the bedroom and the livingroom
which feature hidden cameras.

I watch you cheat on me while I masturbate.

Sometimes you tell your other men about me:
“You suck me so much better than my boyfriend.”

Sometimes, in other dreams, you fuck friends of mine –
both of you thinking
you’re getting away with something
while also thinking
that I’m completely clueless.

So hot.

“Your ass is so tight.
Jason makes me wear a condom when I fuck him.”

Anytime you say my name to them
my cock throbs in my hand.

Sometimes you lie to them,
telling them that I have a small dick,
that I can’t hold an erection or that I cum prematurely…
and I never let you finish inside me.

You tell them you love me
but that I simply don’t enjoy sex
and can’t satisfy you.

Your men work hard
to give you the intercourse
you tell them you’ve been denied –
but you have lied to all of us.

You actually fuck me constantly,
which is why at the time,
I never suspected you might be cheating on me.

I think about this now,
and wonder why I get off on these fantasies of you,
but I’m too turned on now and I can’t stop.

Sometimes,
in the dreams,
I text you and I watch you respond on the camera
while your bareback slut,
desperate for your attention,
rides your thick dick,
loving the feel of the big mushroom head
slipping in and out of his abused holes
exactly the same way
that I once did.

“I love you” you type before you set the phone down
to violently fuck your whore.

I cum after you shoot in his ass,
while he’s sucking you clean.

I text you back.

“I love you too.”

You show him the phone
as you both laugh.

Written by Jason Wright
October 31, 2026

For Michael, so that he understands.

For Andy, Charlie, Cotay & Nick:
because this explains so much of why I understand,
at least my side of things.

Wishing you all the best.

I Know What You Are

I dream about you
and the way that you taste.

You are the MONSTER
who I can’t replace.

A minister fired
for dealing desire.

Sinister plyer
of feelings inspired.

The singular choir
who sings and then shoves me.

You are the spire
that towers above me.

You are the fire
which quells and then gloves me.

You are the liar
who tells me he loves me.

Written by Jason Wright
September 30, 2026


For Michael

The Monster

When we met
you set on fire
as you kissed me
from above.

When we met
you were a liar
and convinced me
of your love.

When I slept
with that imposter
he was always
underhand.

When we met
you were a monster
but I didn’t
understand.

I couldn’t see
the truth
inside deceptive
aching flame.

You couldn’t keep
the proof
of my perspective
from your shame.

A shame
that only blizzards slayed
me tragic
in your eyes.

Like a game
that only wizards play
your magic
was a lie.

I don’t regret
the level
where you spurned me
with your spell.

When we met
you were the devil
and you burned me
with your Hell.

The fire
left its mark
and I’m now
forever changed.

And required
hefty spark
has left me now
deranged.

For now
I understand
but I’m haunted
by the squandered.

For now
you are a man
but I only want
the monster.

Written by Jason Wright
August 8, 2026

IF ONLY I’D KNOWN…

Before I had grown
and had moved far away.

If I could have known
what you never would say.

I could have watched
and seen all the signs.

Could have hopscotched
and made all the rhymes.

If I knew in youth
that you’d always desert me.

If I knew the truth
then it would not have hurt me.

I would have had fun
and would always be yours.

And I could have cum
more than all of your whores.

Written by Jason Wright
August 9, 2026

Divisional Shadows

The divisional shadows
of the math we inspire;
derision of prose
by the wrath of desire
has led me astray
like a pawn to your laughter:
send me away
at the dawn of disaster.

Cock crows the call of
this glamor forbidden,
the clock on the wall
is a camera I’ve hidden,
and sight swarms the notion
of friendly portrayal
as light forms the motion
intent on betrayal.

My eyes disappear
as my brain overloads.

Beneath chandelier
I feel drained and exposed.

The world starts to shimmer;
I head to the gallows…

As glimmer of hope
is divided by shadows.

Written by Jason Wright
August 9, 2026

Inspired by a particularly kinky dream I had. It’s also an expanded fragment which began when I started typing words onto a collage for this site:

DECADENCE

Ten years ago
I slept with the devil.

Ten years ago…
not that it’s special.

Ten years ago
and my God was a prince.

Ten years ago
and so hard to convince.

Because I was a fool
and was falling apart.

He was decadent cool;
addicted to dark.

Things left in darkness
beyond my discernment.

Things left him heartless
before our adjournment.

Bereft of his heart
mine own did desert me.

Bereft of the darkness
he could not still hurt me.

Except to destroy himself
by his own actions.

Expect he’ll deploy himself
through his transactions.

Kept in the shadows
with seldom a light…

I wept in exposure
that held him in spite
of all that he’d done
and what he’d become:

We give love forever
but will accept none.

Written by Jason Wright
April 1, 2019

For Michael

Companions

The monsters
which stand between me
and true understanding
in this world of my own making;
unintentional as they may be
they must still die to set me free.

My mind and body
are split into fragments
which collectively form
the state of my being.

The Man I am proud I am becoming,
(I’ve worked very hard to become that man),
is excited and happy
that someone he loves
will have this opportunity
to explore and experience
that divine feeling of mutual lust
and reciprocal desire,
because I know
that he’s beautiful beyond reason,
beyond any other lover
that I have ever known.

I want him to know this.
I want him to embrace this
and to accept who he truly is.
I want him to know
and feel joy
and accomplishment.
I want him to achieve self-actualization.

A less developed part of me worries
that if he knows how much he is wanted
he may choose to leave me
for multiple partners.

But then again,
why would he do such a thing
when he already has someone
that allows him the embraces of others?

And if he can so easily be seduced from my side
is it worth denying him such knowledge?

I love him and could never hurt him in this way.

My inner child is small and hard
and terrified of what’s to come;
so excited that he may shit his pants,
wet himself, embarrass Daddy
with his hungry child erection,
which comes and goes repeatedly
based on levels of excitement and fear.

These images are too base
and too powerful to be ignored.

The man that I was before,
only years ago now,
is fearful of mistakes repeating themselves;
liars and cheaters and assholes
who could not give me
the attention that I needed
as they abandoned me
to explore all that I secretly desired.

But this time
it’s not a secret.

My Daddy knows
my shame and my lust.

Daddy knows what
hungers make me hard;
what makes my legs wobble
and my knees shake.

Daddy knows that
I call out for him
when I’m alone and stroking
on the edge of understanding,
on the brink of destruction
and the verge of orgasm.

Daddy knows how small I am,
how much Daddy’s cock
overshadows my tiny boyhood penis.

Daddy punishes me;
his words whispered lustfully
into my hungry bottom’s ears;
spanking me with diapers,
fucking my mind and my asshole;
bringing all that I am to the light
that I might solidify
and individuate
from all that has come before now.

Daddy knows that
I crave his calculatedly insincere cruelty
to make me cum;
to take me deeply into lustful spaces
beyond which I’ve yet dared to explore…
Impossible places that I
cannot reach without his loving embrace
of seemingly vicious incantations
which (spoken lovingly)
brutally summon the fragments within me;
bringing me to coalescence in this savage intensity,
this immensity of emotion and sensation
which I want / need to explore
in the paradoxically identical agency
from which his own exploritive needs are encountered;
that wellspring beneath his sense
of sensual worth and attraction
which unites us
in mutual self sexual exploration.

We’re two sides it would seem
of the same themed wet dream
that has haunted forever
and needs to be conquered.

Two shades of wanting
of the same kind of haunting
that has taunted forever:
we must slay our monsters.

And in the aftermath of our battles
be they excessive or successful failures
I know that I can hold him and tell him he is loved;
the way Daddy has told me that I am loved
after he punishes me
with unrestricted access to his most insightful lessons.

There are other, lesser fears of disease (given our precautions)
but they cannot prevent me from finding my truth
in the search for his own.

I love you. I love this.
I love that we can hold one another
as we walk through the terrifying war zones of our youth.

You are not alone.
I am not alone.

We are always together.

And I will love you forever.

Written by Jason Wright
January 18, 2018

This Diabolical Drama

I’m sitting right across from you
when you tell me how much you want to hurt me,
how much it will pleasure you to humiliate me,
how much you want to take what is mine,
use it for your own gain,
and leave me to wander
cluelessly,
ashamed and defeated.

I’m sitting right across from you
but what you don’t see
is that I’m not the man you thought I was,
and all your schemes were mine
before they were yours.

You think he’s sitting right across from you
but I’ve taken his place
and the words that were meant for him;
the words meant to conquer me
and raise you up have given me the greatest satisfaction
I can imagine.

I am afraid,
but it is the fear of an entertainer
about to take to the stage
where my most impressive performance
(which I’ve trained for my entire life)
is about to begin at last.

You are a liar and a manipulator.
You are hurtful and obscene.
But I am something you could not see coming.
And though you wish to hurt me
I thank you from behind my disguise
for you too have an integral role to play.

You, with the help of my co-conspirator,
will push me beyond those boundaries
I have never dared to traverse,
even though the core of who I am
has always ached to cross that line.

And in that gleaming treacherous climax
where all masks lead to the truth,
we will be transformed…

And you, in plotting my downfall,
will bring me to my utter salvation.

Written by Jason Wright
November 8, 2017

Showered

Showering after sex
my mind is overcome
by thoughts, sensations, memories.

“Call Me by Your Name”
has reminded me of Rob –
the way he made a pass at me
when I was 17 –
the way I reacted
and the way I’ve often wished
I could change that moment –
erase it, rewrite it,
never experience that level of self loathing
born of inexperience…
that impression of what I lack.

Still…
kissing at church has to count for something.

My conversation with young relative returns;
how I tried to calm his fears
on Trump and AIDS and love and sex.
It only takes one time, you know?

A boy I knew who worked on Fire Island
died of an “infection” a few weeks ago –
life support turned off –

INFECTION
FIRE ISLAND
GAY
DEATH

The words that silently scream at me what I believe to be the cause
while everyone politely refuses to mention what has happened…
And the band continues to play on.

Men I’ve been inside of,
Men who’ve been inside of me
are positive.

Best friends,
Loved ones,
Infected but seldom mentioned
because an illness
is easily
the least interesting thing about them.

I think of Aaron and the tears he shed
and the words he said
and the progress he confirmed…
the wonderful weekends we’ve had.

I think about upcoming hearing while
trying not to face it with terror or worry
while the video they’re supposed to send me
has never arrived (three times).

But the shower must end
and scalding hot water must cease it’s spray.

And so I dry myself –
step back into the world
and I forget.

Written by Jason Wright
February 27, 2017

FALLING TO PIECES

I was pushed from a height
and I plummeted downward…

I shattered to pieces
yet I travelled onward,

And the night that I met you
was desperate and magic…

A ghost of myself;
my death had been tragic…

I walked through the cold;
could not have been bolder…

And one of my murderers
cried on my shoulder.

But you crossed my path
though we’d met before…

In a time I can’t fathom
or begin to explore…

For that October night
eclipsed all the others…

And you took me home
though we weren’t even lovers.

You sparked something there
that I could not perceive,

Igniting a flame
that I could not believe,

A fire that warmed
what had threatened to freeze me,

Desire that formed
over time as you freed me.

We were friends
with a sparkle
of laughter and lust…

We grew to be more
as we developed our trust…

And friends became lovers
and partners and family…

You’re in my blood;
in my breath;
you’re inside me.

You’re part of me now
and I don’t want to lose you…

I don’t want to doubt,
disrespect or abuse you…

I don’t want to hurt you
or take you for granted…

I’m conscious of this
and I need to be candid…

I’ve loved you for years now
and yet I’m still falling…

Still falling in love with
no signs of stalling…

Will we crash at the bottom
or land on our feet?

All I know is that
falling with you I’m complete.

Written by Jason Wright
April 13, 2013

For: Aaron Sanko

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