Kittylele

29/04/2026

Live on Twitch 💜

Pop in and say hi! I appreciate all support:

" Poet | Gamer | NSFW | Otaku | Neko "

05/02/2026

Hopped on the ChatGPT train as well

25/01/2026

Desire's encore

In the dim glow
of candlelit skin,
your body whispers secrets,
drawing me in.

Silken curves
like velvet under your touch,
fingers tracing fire,
I'm craving it so much.

Lips part with a gasp,
honey-sweet breath,
your tongue tangle in hunger,
defying all death.

You taste my desire,
salty but sweet and dangerously wild,
dripping like nectar,
untamed,
undefiled.

Hands roam lower,
igniting the flame,
my thighs quiver open,
calling your name.

Your heat pulls me under,
slick and divine,
thrusting in rhythm,
bodies entwine.

Moans echo like thunder,
building a storm,
waves crashing harder,
in passion's true form.

My nails dig deep,
marking your back with my fire,
exploding together,
lost in desire.

We collapse
in the afterglow's haze,
sweat-kissed and sated,
in this erotic maze.

Yet,
the embers still smolder,
begging for more -
one taste of heaven,
forever encore.

**ttyreads **t **tty

24/01/2026

Come undone

I ache
loud in the quiet,
all heat and bad decisions,
skin tuned to your presence
like it knows the signal.

You don't rush me.
That's the cruel part.
You let the wanting swell
until I start to beg.

Your gaze
presses harder than your hands,
slow authority,
velvet sharp,
and my breath stutters
trying to behave.

I tip forward,
willingly,
all hunger - all yes,
thirst written in the curve of my spine
and the way I have to wait.

Say nothing.
Just look at me like that.
I'm already undone.

**t **ttyreads

23/01/2026

Closer

I like it
that moment just before I misbehave,
that hush
where the room leans in,
lights low enough
to forgive me,
pulse already counting the sin.

Your shadow
touches me first.
That's how I know it's real.
Pressure
without contact,
want sharpening into steel.

I talk slow.
Let consonants
drag their nails.
Let silence
do the dirty work
between the syllables I don't say.

My body
listens harder than my head.
Every nerve standing at attention,
like it's waiting for permission
to fall apart
beautifully.

When you think I'm done,
that's when I stop breathing,
smile -
just slightly,
and drop the last word like a match:
closer.

22/01/2026

Him
I don't kneel
because I'm small.
I kneel
because I trust the darkness
in your hands.

You don't take me apart,
you name me as yours,
slow and certain -
you've always known
what I'm worth.

Your voice
is a low command,
not loud, not cruel -
heavy with promise,
and my body answers
before my thoughts catch up.

I give in the way fire gives to night,
glowing harder for it,
finally held, finally chosen,
finally enough.

I don't disappear when I submit.
I become undeniable.

21/01/2026

Crack

I don't want love -
I want the flicker before the fire,
that black-spark moment
where good sense slips its wire.

Neon breath, low laugh,
sin humming under my skin.
You look at me like a bad idea -
you're already in.

Teeth on silence.
Pulse on blast.
Say my name once, slow and rough,
then let the whole night crack
like glass.

30/12/2025

Dead inside

Being dead inside feels like
being hollow
but heavy.
It's like my chest is a tin can
filled with fog -
nothing solid,
yet it presses outward.

It's dark, but not dramatic.
Just absent.
My body goes numb in layers,
as if
sensation is switched off
room by room.

My brain doesn's stop.
It keeps moving
without warmth,
thoughts sliding past each other,
no grip, no spark.
Just the cold.
Everything exists,
but none of it reaches me.

I'm empty
and somehow holding everything at once -
noise without sound,
weight without shape.
I'm here,
but there's no depth to me anymore.

24/11/2025

[NSFW] The Chokehold of his Love

His hands grip my throat
like iron vines,
squeezing just enough
to blur out the noisy world,
I have come to hate.
My breath,
a ragged whisper,
stolen -
not mine anymore.
Oh. My. God -
I love him!
This chokehold of his love,
turning my bratty spine into liquid fire.

In the sheets,
I'm his w***e -
his broken doll.
Legs splayed wide open,
c**t dripping like honeyed rain.
He thrusts deep -
claiming every inch,
filling me raw,
stretching me till I scream his name,
and beg for the pain
that finally blooms into bliss.
My eyes are locked on his -
the dark storms are raging wild,
he pins my wrists above me,
bruises starting to bloom like roses,
"I'm forever yours," I think,
as his c**k pounds relentlessly,
inside of me.

His love
is splitting me open,
making me feel small -
so fu***ng small,
that in the vise of his power -
his dominance devours.
Sweat-slick skin slaps endlessly,
like echoes in the dim light,
his demonic-like growl of want and need
in my ear: "Take it cum-slut, all just for me,"
and I arch,
my p***y clenching around his girth,
milking him harder -
whilst waves of ecstasy is
crashing in on me.

Submitting;
it feels like heaven's filthiest high.
His bite marks on my neck and breasts,
red welts from his palm,
urgh -
I want more of him,
I want to be one with him,
forever.
He flips me over,
ass up,
face down in the pillow,
his fingers slowly run up my back,
into my neck - he grips my hair firmly,
yanking back hard,
while rubbing his c**k against me.
The moan of "Ahhh yes, daddy!" just slips out,
naturally,
to confirm his position
of authority in my life.
He then starts ramming it in
from behind, ferociously,
his balls slapping my c**t -
and then,
I finally shatter.
I cum,
squirting,
lost in his savage rhythm.

Yet,
beneath this beast of a man,
his touch whispers love
for only me.
His kisses
trail promises after the storm.
Only for him,
this freak side of me is unleashed -
wild and wet.
He owns my body,
my soul,
my quivering core -
and I'd kneel forever,
craving his cruel caress.
More,
always more -
his dominance is my absolute drug,
and feeling tiny in his grasp,
a powerful surrender,
is testimony to
our love -
a twisted tango:
raw and real.

I am his queen by day,
but also
his slt dripping dream by night.
Fu**ed up,
fu**ed hard,
forever his.

**t **ttyreads

13/11/2025

I wrote this poem in regards to the current GBV issues in South Africa 💜💜💜💜 Please support by signing the petition to declare the violence against women a nation disaster!!! 💜💜💜

#💜 💜

12/11/2025

Say her Name, South Africa

Women For Change

I woke up this morning,
it was sunny and beautiful -
but something was different in the air.
It is like something is brewing,
and change was coming.

Birds still sang.
Kids still laughed on their way to school.
But my chest felt heavy,
like I was holding every mother's scream
that never ever made the news.

Because here,
in the land of gold and grief,
another woman died last night.
Another name whispered through hashtags
and funeral hymns on social media.

Her name was Karabo.
She was burned beyond recognition.
Uyinene - beaten in a post office
for daring to collect her own parcel.
Tshegofatso - eight months pregnant,
found hanging from a tree.
And now Zintle,
the Nelson Mandela University student -
r***d by a man she had to face
in the same lecture hall,
until she took her own life.

This isn't even breaking news anymore.
It's the background noise of South Africa.

Every four hours -
a woman is murdered.
Every twelve minutes -
a girl is brutally r***d.
There are over 53,000 sexual offences
reported just last year,
and we all know those are just the ones
that made it to the police station.
Tell me that's not a national disaster.
Tell me we don't need
a national day of mourning,
a national day of honour -
where we say their names,
light candles,
and promise NO MORE.

Because these people weren't statistics.
They were people.
Mothers.
Sisters.
Best friends.
The girl you shared notes with in high school.
The woman who sat beside you in a taxi,
smiling at her phone,
not knowing that message
would be her last.

And now,
while women are fighting for survival,
men are painting their profiles green -
crying “we're not piggy banks!”
as if being asked to be decent
costs too much.
As if feminism
was a bank withdrawal
instead of a war for breath.

This movement was never
women versus men -
it was life versus indifference.
It's about
the little girl who will never graduate,
the grandmother beaten
by her husband of forty years,
the child left motherless
because he said,
“If I can't have her, no one can.”

It could happen to anyone you know.
Your best friend.
Your niece.
Your mother.
Your cousin.
Your daughter.

Violence doesn't solve anything.
It only spreads -
like a virus through generations,
infecting sons with silence
and daughters with fear.

But today -
the air feels different.
There's a pulse rising beneath the grief,
a hum of something fierce.
Women in purple,
even men standing beside us,
hands raised in truth,
not ego.

Change is coming.
I can feel it brewing.
Because even storms,
after they've destroyed everything,
bring rain -
and from that rain
something new will grow.
Something beautiful.

And one day soon,
we will wake up to sunlight again,
and the air will be different for everybody -
not heavy,
but clean.
Full of names,
but
no longer whispered in mourning,
but
shouted in victory.

SAY THEIR NAME.
We Are South Africans
💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜