- Erotic Poetry
- Submission
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Trust
Joy! To walk with Master on a spring afternoon.
The cool breeze tosses my hair, the sun warms my body.
I walk quickly to keep stride with his manly stature.
I wear his collar about my neck and his love around my heart.
He fills my needs; I live for his desires,
Souls bonded, words unnecessary.
I was reborn, claimed from the gutter,
Taken in, fed by his own fingers;
We warm each other at night.
I owe him everything.
A firm tug on my leash thrills me;
All see my strong assertive Master
Who owns me.
He has bidden me to keep silent;
To disregard greetings as we pass.
My obedience is mistaken for hauteur,
“Bitch”, the stinging epithet follows me,
But only Master’s disapproval could cut my heart.
Home, his touch rewards me.
His hand plays my skin, raises my nipples.
Supine, my head lolls, my legs spread.
Complete and blissful submission.
I kiss with my tongue, I taste him.
His hand rests on my head.
“Good dog,” he says.
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