La Petit Mort (Inspired by Mistress Macabre)

I enter and greet you too familiar
You say, "you may address me as Mistress,"
then under your breath, "if at all."
I fall to my knees, eyes downcast I beg,
"May I lick your boot? Please, please!"

"You may," say you "and even higher."
Higher and higher closer I go until pagan
lust I smell. My dripping cock engorged,
you can tell.

"Worthless dick," you look down and say
Give it sharp smack and laugh
That breaks spell then down comes whip
Love not given lightly. "You have not earned your orgasm. Lick the bottom of my boot."

"Yes, dear Mistress," and I erupt in spasm
My desire ruined, what cruel bliss
Love spurned my wracked body does contort. I beg you for another la petit
mort.