My Quiet Rose

If you can give me head, when all about you
  Are losing theirs and calling you a whore;
If you can take my thrust so deep and true,
  If I make no allowance for how sore
You are, my quiet rose; just spread your holes;
  You'll open them with practiced ease; my prick
Must sink deep into you - you know your role's
  To be my slut and suck me 'til you're sick:

If you are so obedient - bring the cane;
  If you can think — just think about the ache;
If you can raise your haunches, feel the pain
  And shriek your love for razor cuts I make;
If you can bare your mound, I'll have it whipped
  In the same way, because my twisted mind
Will want to watch you blanch, before you're tipped
  Into the abyss, where you'll serve me blind:

If you sprawl in a heap, when I am done;
  And risk it all by not cleaning my cock,
If you will lose, and start again; I'll stun
  You with further demands; and these will lock
You in, to force your heart to serve my whim;
  If you can bow and scrape, as the crowd knows;
You'll kneel before the world as you begin
  To serve a man once more, my quiet rose.