The Handcuffs

These metal bonds


have seen my wrists


entangled in their vice-like grip.
Never yours though,
too busy making me submissive.
Your game, your rules, your win.
Pulling my hair,
striking my skin.
They've seen others regardless.
When I can take no more of your perverted torture
and long for a softer touch,
a chance to hold my own ground,
They've seen others.
When my heros come to call
with gentle strokes
and soft whispers,
silent pleas,
then it's my turn.
And with their hands bound,
and skin crawling with want,
and tears in their eyes,
I
Win
Everytime.