Ode To Discipline

She wants such discipline, so she can play
With all the ache and pleasure he'll provide;
And, so, she shows her stern in such a way
That he'll be pressed to push loving aside;
And pull his oozing cock from her snug cunt,
Whilst holding her right down with just one hand,
Placed on the lumbar region of her back;
She's been fucked; now, it seems to him, she's wont
To feel the welts, where he would once caress,
And know she's no defence to his attack.

Her flanks, her thighs, her buttocks and her breasts
Will be marked by his handprints before long;
And she will be submissive, so impressed
By how a man can beat her hard and strong;
And still she feels excitement in the air:
Her arse is curved up, begging for each slap.
As he is so demonstrative, his palm
Will smack her sopping pussy. Will she dare
To hope that, with the hurt, will come the calm
As she is tugged across her master's lap?

And will he be content with just his hands?
Or will he feel the need to use the brush
That smoothed her tangled hair? Yes, he commands
She spreads her legs to show the curly bush
Of pubes, through which he'll spank her wicked sex,
While she is opened up and looks obscene:
Her arsehole winking, labia exposed
To the full force that he will use to vex,
And bring her to a crisis, where she knows
He will permit no sounds: not a shocked scream.

When he beats her backside with wood that's worn,
She cannot yelp or cry or make a noise;
He's stuffed her mouth with panties that perform,
The role of gag, as he slowly deploys
The tactics of a general. See: he shares
The landings of the brush across her skin:
So passionate, so painful and so hard,
That she will flinch at each blow, which he dares
To inflict so her blushing flesh is marred
By bruises that will moderate her sin.

Soon she presents herself across his desk,
Knowing that he will use a tawse or cane;
Or, better still, a flogger which will test
Her immobility. Yes, she'll remain
Bent over, very tranquil, though each stripe
Will burst upon her - like a streak of fire
Amidst the rumbling storm, she suffers in,
When whipped with eager thoughts; these seem so ripe:
The fruits of punishments that will inspire
More lust, once he concludes her discipline.