Game

She’d been strung up, whipped, tickled and caned,
Fucked and buggered, left totally drained…
All, of course, just a game,
But the way that she came
Was decidedly not the least feigned!

Love hurts

She was blind-folded, gagged and restrained.
He could do what he liked, but refrained,
She moaned softly, to please him,
To thrill him and tease him:
Suspense was what most entertained.

She’d been carefully, patiently trained,
Her submissiveness deeply ingrained.
Helpless, lewdly displayed,
She felt proud, not dismayed,
It felt holy. It felt preordained.

Though her freedom of choice was retained,
It aroused her to be whipped or caned.
The pain wasn’t excessive,
He wasn’t possessive,
She knew she could go, but remained.

When he used her this way, she felt drained.
Giving in, giving all, still she gained.
Pain with pleasure felt pure:
Sweet test to endure,
To drown in, till ecstasy waned.