BOUND

(a sonnet)

Face down, feels leather cool on naked flesh
Exquisite pain as his new piercings rub
Arms bound to table legs in leather mesh
Legs tied, spread wide, the mistress’ willing sub

She bound then left, his view, a dark-stained floor
His mind of what’s to come increases need
A hole designed for swell now showing more
With click of metaled heels, all thoughts recede

She stands so only pointed toes are shown
He feels a stroking glove caress his back
Then leather’s crack, the sweetest sting he’s known
So stroke and strap continues love’s attack

With press and thrust, his preen spreads for her tool
With thrust and pull, his queen begins her rule

Author's Note: first in a trilogy of formulaics