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Image for the poem Freedom

Freedom

No quarter given when she asks
Safe word not uttered when she's bound
Silent about the ties that bind
Not one sweet murmur, not a sound

She favors the kiss of a whip
A preference for a deal of pain
No mercy, just a bit of hell
It seems that she can take the strain

I order her to use her mouth
And suck until the fall of night
The wet sounds give me quite a thrill
But I instruct her not to bite

I then forgive her many sins
Release her when she's turning numb
Now untied she goes freaking wild
Her freedom is what makes me come.
 
Written by crowfly
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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