While you stuff my throat with your words,
I still have you wrapped around my pinky.
For you are rendered under the power of my lips,
The slight touch of my tongue on your neck,
The will of every man held between my legs.
You grab at me,
You moan my name and yet,
You think you have your power.
As I lay with you,
Your soul slips into perdition,
Your eyes beg for mercy,
My fingers trace down your abdomen and leave marks behind.
My pet tiger,
You have earned your stripes and in my keep, you stay.
You buckle under the pressure of my whimpers and whispers,
The scrunch of my face while you hold my body beneath yours,
Our foreheads pressed together in pleasure.
You cannot leave me.
For I have your own will used against you.
**** was my power move and you fall for it every time.