I am tempted to call you my lover,
but those are just words
pretty and stunning
the perfect girl.
I want to reach and trace
pull her into position
that submissive space
where everything is negotiated.
There are required requirements
where we exist in equal measure
we balance both brain and might
start a set of lessons.
Learn how to train the ache of emotion
so certain words can become triggers
a prehistoric need to please of course.
Most won’t understand how it works
one can wear a collared leash
and still have a stronger voice.
The feline obeys,
down on knees to palms
eyes in their expected place,
warm and tempted for sure.
She begs and asks all the same,
please, if it’s what you wish.
A perfectly placed palm
leaves a welted mark,
she braces and pushes back
wanting more of the sting
ice is dripping down and inside.
She falls on elbows
raising her ass even higher still,
and from behind,
she hears her favorite string of words.
A command she must answer
nudged by the slightest pinch
she centers to focus her words
and from over her shoulder
she answers him.

3 responses to “My Lover”

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