A Cosy Place To Fill

He loves to watch the fine mist in the night,
Gathering beyond the window pane;  
I know because he's told me; he'll explain  
All sorts of things to increase my insight;  
With blindfold round my eyes, whispers are quite  
Helpful to make it clear to me; I gain  
A lot of knowledge, as I take the strain  
Of cords that bind me to the bed (as tight  
As he must feel my sex is), where he'll shunt  
His thickness into me with no regard  
For any cries I make:  do I exist?  
Or am I just his hole: his tight, young cunt?  
It matters not: this cosy place for hard  
Masculine flesh to fill with evening mist.