4 walls around me.
I sit and await.
I imagine an exit,
i anticipate my fate.

Hemp rope,
friction burns.
I am bound at the knees.
Hoping im really bound to please?

Coldness beneath me.
Hard stone floor.
He promised to make me,
his special little *****.

Each limb of mine aching,
While emotionally chastised.
I expect he’ll ignore
my most desperate of cries.

He walks toward me,
He strokes my hair.
Then pull on it tightly.
To gage my despair.

Stroking my face,
Gazing into my eyes.
With a look I’ve come
to recognize.

A single tear,
He wipes from my face.
“i promise to start slowly, then pick up the pace.”

It hurts when he hurts me.
I feel it twofold.
It hurts that he hurts me,
More than any threshold.

Physically restrained,
Still emotional ******* hurts more.
But he promised to make me,
his special little *****...