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Click hereAs I gaze upon your banter, and thunder as prize met
It calls to mind a peasant girl
Who needed to be a pet
With whips and chains and humiliations fangs
And bounds that were over set
The master won his little slave no life of ill regret
She was taken by his whim, a Dominant of great power
Bound her soul into his mold
And called his little flower
He made her change from her arrogance ways
And soon to Curtsy and Dower
Her private life a balance strife none to offend or sour
She lived her life of sub, as a domestic within his will
It made her think once think again
Of life without his thrill
The mistress of the home and castle
A dungeon as they say
Lived a life of perfect strife a fairytale day to day