Another way

There is another way to turn her flower
A different colour with a martinet;
And, if the spanking's hard, it may empower
The girl to know that once she's really wet,
The slapping will continue to the brink
Of her excitement, building to the place
That she can't time, because she knows to think
Of it will make her find certain disgrace
More quickly than he'd wish in any hue;
So, she bites her lip, asking no quarter:
The colour's pink, then mauve turning to blue
And black - the bruising really needs no water,
Unlike the flowers that aren't in this play;
Turning her flower? There's another way.