Thank you Sir
The welts raised on my soft smooth skin, sends a quietness to my brain, i can't stop looking at them as I run my fingers over them again
Slowly my bruised skin changes colours the fresh bruises darken over time, though they were made by you their true ownership is mine
The dull ache runs through me i feel a tenderness when I sit, it sends me vivid reminders to my mind causing a juicy wetness deep inside my slit
I love the look of my bruises I can't help myself stroking my swollen skin, each bruise and whip mark are sweet reminders of another kinky night of sin
I know some might think I'm quite strange but sexual pain brings me pleasures, so every mark left upon my body are kept by me like special treasures
I hide my marks from the public but I wear them with a secret pride, so I'm marked in strategic places to make each one easier to hide
If any of my vanilla friends or family saw my marks it would cause a stir, so I look at them and stroke them when I'm all alone and whisper " Thank you Sir"
THE KINKY POET