He shows her the bottle
oil from olives, extra virgin
fucking loves the reminder of
what she most definitely is not
as she lies before Him
ankles bound by heavy rope
stretches to top left corner post
anchors this perfect little filthy whore
hands cuffed to a wide black leather waist belt
head tilts back beyond lower right corner
tresses dangle, suspended above the tile floor
eyes wide open, she watches as the reminder drizzles
along a pulse induced twitching cock, rises upward with each beat
she dare not speak
until He displays fingers
in succession, one, two, three
this, her signal to communicate
His left hand reaches
a flushed, inverted face
while the right glides around
the glorious twitch she longs to taste
extra virgin coating
her pierced tongue and tight throat
she recalls so very well, as large hands continue
stroking her lips and the rod of her desire, He controls
but whimpers escape, a mistake
He hears, growls with displeasure
"you whining bitch, you were warned to not make
one fucking sound until three fingers are on display"
will she taste, the extra virgin
tears erupt as she watches Him walk away
*June 21, 2015*
Written by VegasPoet
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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