Kneeling, waiting for instructions,
Anticipating your carnal design,
Knowing I am safe and under your protection,
In my core, I feel the chords align.
You come to me gently, tenderly,
Silk threads blindfold,
Each stroke and tease, need rises eagerly,
You quiet me, I feel rope enfold,
Binding me, constraining me, all the while
Whispering, “Are you my Good Girl?”
I sense your pride, I feel your smile,
This, Sir, has become my world.
Take me into your arms,
Begin your magic, begin your play,
First touch of leather brings no alarms,
Tis my desire to please, show me your way.
Teach me, guide me, mark me as yours.
Push my boundaries with each strike,
Release my battles, my inner wars.
Tears flow, you’ve opened the dike.
Skin flushed, breathing harder,
Yearning, craving, begging for release,
Edging to the brink of disaster,
Please, Sir, bring me peace.
Sensing your fire, holding on longer,
Opening wider, building with intensity,
Feeling the rise of your hunger,
Lust’s rage shows its immensity.
It’s ache, its roar, its fury,
Moving together, thrust for thrust,
Orgasmic screams no longer buried,
Rising higher and higher, control I trust,
Riding the waves, let this begin.
Hearing your primal growl,
Feeling the release within,
Hold tight to me, my Sir,
Don’t let me fall,
My body reeling, mind in a blur,
For you, I give my all.
Breathing slowed, sweat mingling,
Your eyes put me in a swirl,
Trembling under your power, tingling,
Today, was I your Good Girl?
~CWylde © 2015