At the Hands of Sir

My body shakes as I kneel before You
Your boots the only thing I see
My head bowed, my eyes are lowered
Everything is as it should be

I sense You, before I see You
Your power rolls over my skin
Making little hairs stand on end
Waiting for the scene to begin

Your hands caress me, strong yet smooth
Grabbing me, my mind becomes a blurr
"Are you ready for me, my little slave?"
My breath catches, I whisper "Yes, Sir"

My hands gently brought before me
The leather cuffs firm but softly binding
I'm draped over the bench, my hair cascading
The first strikes of the cane are blinding

I thank You for each stroke
As my nerve endings start to tingle
The pain first mild, then intense
The pleasure begins to intermingle

My voice breaks to breathy gasps
As I thank You and ask for more
I never want this to come to an end
Yet I wonder how much more I can endure

Your hands stroke me, soft and gentle
Mixing with the sting of that delightful cane
The lashings continue, my body takes flight
My hips gyrating again and again

I think the words, and try to form them on my lips
But I am floating now, words no longer make sense
I want to continue, and ask for more, please Sir
But the depth of flight is far too incredibly intense

I feel Your hands again, a genlte soft caress
Bringing me back to You, my lips softly smiling
I slowly awaken from my departure
Your voice low and incredibly beguiling

How wonderful this exchange, both our needs clearly met
Feeding off each others desires, we each provide
The synchronisty required to morph our souls
Into the exquisite harmony we each feel inside

The journey has started, with You at the helm
I surrender my body, soul and mind without question
To guide me, protect me, and keep me safe
My whole being is now Your prized possession