Submission

You have me in your power,
oh, dark Mistress of delight,
sealed up in your secret tower,
all day long and every night.

In your tight-laced leather corset,
those black boots with silver heels,
you've chained my wrists with gauntlets,
to rings of hard, cold steel.

With a voice low and commanding,
you remind me I'm your slave,
ever constant and demanding,
in your firm, hypnotic way.

I'm imprisoned in your coil,
saddled by your beck and call,
covered with scented oil,
and the hot candle-wax that falls.

You torment me without mercy,
I do exactly what you say,
your demands are ordered tersely,
and every single one I must obey.

All your deepest, darkest fantasies,
are acted out upon my flesh,
achieveing all your ecstacies,
with such intensive kinkiness.

A riding-crop cracks at your hip,
to assure my full attention,
the startled tremble of my lip,
stimulates your set intentions.

"You do not have permission,
you may not touch, you may not speak,"
you state, extracting my Submission,
perched on your knees between my feet.

With flashing passion in your eyes,
you're like a leopard with her prey,
sinking your teeth into my thighs,
making me squirm and thrash and sway.

As you feast upon my center,
you strike the crop across my chest,
draw down deeper at my member,
dragging me up to the crest.

Then you remove me from your mouth,
clench my hardness in your hand,
straddle over me and mount,
riding me as fast as you can.

I am helpless, I am writhing,
in your hot tunnel wet and tight,
you are wailing, I am crying,
much to each other's sheer delight!

Sometimes in pleasure there is pain,
and this is something we both know,
for in our fury we both gain,
because you say, "It must be so!"