Sir

Haunted by the ghost of my own wicked mind, a wicked find a twisted ride a vile sort of file life, yes go ahead and peek inside, a folder full of naked lies, red lipstick to paint on the smiles, a cabinet for your greedy eyes, come claim this body for your use, I want the whip marks please leave a bruise, please let me be your battered muse, I want to take all your abuse. Haunted by the wants of a woman with such needs, a hunger hard to fill until I'm on my knees, you can land a backhand and I’ll just say yes please, yes Sir thank you Sir I want to serve your beast. I have a darkness in my bones, the harder you hit the more it grows, grip my neck, squeeze and choke, gag me fuck me shove it down my throat, pick me up and throw me down, smack my face and turn me round, bend me over face to ground, you'll hear my heartbeat race and pound, take your anger out on me, my body craves a good beating, you can leave me bruised and bleeding, a mess that's left when a beast’s finished feeding. Then when the beast has had his fill, he can set me on his window sill, and leave me there until his next meal, I live to service his ever will, I live for a Sir who can give such a thrill.