Fifty Shades Of Blue

Her thoughts put fifty shades of grey to shame:
It seems, given the chance, she will just praise
Her master and the way he can take aim
To whip and cum and use her. See, her gaze
Will always waver: shyness may, indeed,
Ensure she blushes even more. So that,
Given her time and leisure, he will feed
Her fantasies and marks her as his twat,
His bitch, his chit, his cunt, his girl, his pet,
His chattel, his belonging; he will own
That she is his and, though he may forget
To thank her for her service, she won't moan,
Except to give him praise, as is his due,
When her thoughts turn the night sky very blue.