Gains

Bending at the knees with a tremble of anxiety, listen as the whip cracks, snaps, retracts and then repeats. I didn't mean to go this far I didn't think you'd hit so hard but now that I'm stuck in your car Sir expects to set the bar. He won't send me home with less than anything but a painted body, he's the artist I'm the canvas use me for his greedy longing, look into his blackened eyes they're not the ones I recognize no Sir is out to set me straight and throw me in my fucking place. Double wrapped in tight clenched fist, snap the belt against my skin, but I will take the abuse in silence, I know the beast must feed on violence. I want the beast to use me up, beat me fuck me till he's had enough, leave me kneeling at our tree I promise Sir I will not peak or make a squeak or try to speak, I'll just sit there on my knees waiting for you patiently. Some may think and some my wonder, how this abuse can bring such pleasure, and to those who do not understand go home and beg for a nice backhand and when the sting of initial shock sends shudders through your trembling jaw and when you want to scream in pain, hold it in you must refrain, turn that weakness into gain and thank your Sir for his part played