Checked

She is checking his talent for fractions
As he spanks her hindquarters again,
Perhaps, therein, lies the attraction
Her sweet being cannot feel the same;
Lest he's whipped and smacked her and belted
Her arse and her breasts and her thighs;
She may find that she is a third welted,
Two thirds tingle and she feels some surprise
At the fact that she will make no comment,
It's as if she has taken the fifth
And the punishment regime's the cement;
The glue that means she stays his gift;
Though, of course, there is conversation
That makes up for silence between slaps;
And the suction that stops her narration,
A mixed blessing, some might say, perhaps;
What need of ideas' penetration?
When he fills her half-full with his yard;
Be it oral or anal, her station
Is usage and abusage; he's scarred
All her flesh, her libido, her heart,
Which, for anyone else are now wrecked;
And it is certain they will have no part
Unless his talent for fractions is checked.