The throat hold, that's my
On switch. From strong, independent
woman to pliant submissive
in the blink of an eye. My mind clears
and I lose that shyness that says
I can't look at you. Now I take in
your every move with quiet
watchfulness. What do you have
in store for me?
On your knees. You murmur
the command and I drop, as if
you cut my puppet strings. I offer
no resistance as you cuff my hands
behind my back, as you grab
my hair and use it to steer my head.
My mouth opens expectantly, eyes up
to meet your in pleading supplication.
Move me. Use me. Hurt me.
Male me plead and gasp and whimper.
You have me, lost in sub space,
your servant and your slave.
Content to follow your lead and take
whatever it is you want to give me.
The inside of my head is blissful quiet,
Feed me your cock and I'll worship
It slavishly, sloppily, if that's how
you like it. Bent me and twist me
then rail me, and I'll take it, until
the pain and pleasure washes
me clean.
