Entering the darkened room thick with lust’s desire,
Dark eyes drawing me in setting my skin on fire.
I kneel to him, I have no will but his,
To hear his pleasure, feel his power is bliss.
I would follow him down to where he leads,
Trusting his guidance, his lash my prayer beads,
The sting of his mark, my supplication,
His commands, my fervent dedication
As he takes me to his land of release.
He could destroy me, yet he brings me peace.
He knows me so well, knows each quiver, each cry,
The edge is near, my ache for release raises me high,
“You’re getting closer, my Good Girl, but you must wait.”
“Please, Sir, I cannot!” imploring in my fevered state.
Pushing me farther with each touch, blood rushes,
Taking me now, passion brings brilliant skin blushes,
“Now, my Good Girl!” His voice commands, I follow,
Hearing his pleasure, his primal growl, ground so hallow,
Joined now, riding the waves of paradise together,
This man, this master, the one I proudly call Sir.
CWylde © 01/03/15
(written in response to poetry prompt #DsubVerse)