Swinging Down The Street

"They think  I am a whore," she thought and smiled;
This was not sudden comprehension, more
A feeling that she'd held and that beguiled.
The girl: it made her wonder - as a whore
She loved that total strangers seemed to know,.
As though, when she was walking down the street,
A sign was stuck to her forehead to show
Them all how she's considered - it is sweet
To think upon her skin - thigh, mound and breast -
His mark is there - her pride can overcome.
The worry at the latent interest
Of others who won't know she feels his thumb
Is over her, so when she murmurs "Master"
She swings a little more and trots much faster.