Cuffed

We’d played before. Bottom. Top.
You always knew just when to stop.
Sometimes it was me, the Master.
How I savored your pleading “faster”.

I loved it more when you had me tied.
You waiting and smirking, my bliss long denied.
Or nipples bitten by your lips.
Sometimes exchanged for torture clips.

Or when you were helpless as I kissed a tit.
Howling loudly when I reached your clit.
Silken scarfs we used to bind.
Silken scarfs we used to blind.

Gradually things evolved.
Suddenly it was you around whom I revolved.
Then that night, in early fall.
How you sat, is what I recall.

On your lips, not a smile’s hint.
In your eyes, a demon’s glint.
Then I saw them in your hand.
You were right that I’d understand.

You held the cuffs out so I could see.
It was how you’d want me to be.
You sat silent as I walked away.
We both knew from that Autumn day.
You’d be my mistress, I’d be your slave.
Receiving from you much more than I gave.

I walked and got naked and lay on the bed.
Now it was yours and on it I spread.
Awaiting you to cuff each arm and each leg.
Knowing that soon you’d be making me beg.
Then I heard your steps walking towards me.
Yes I was dripping. Yes I was free.