I hate it. I want it. I need it. Please, Sir, whip away my sins!

My bruises disappoint me.
The brevity of my punishment disappoints me.
I expected more.
I expected worse.
I was relieved when it ended.
Scared and grateful when he beat me again.
It wasn't enough.
As a punishment it wasn't enough.
Cleanse me, Sir.
Whip my guilt away.
Tie down my arms so I can't
protect
my tits from your belt.
Make me suffer enough to atone.

I can never suffer enough to atone.

And it did do the job.
Even though you didn't choke me.
Even though the chain stayed out of your hands,
away from that most vulnerable
hole
between my legs.
You didn't bring a new
strip
of wood
to use as a
cane
in place of the one I angrily discarded
when I left you.

You were my Tam Lin
but I didn't hold on
as
enchanted
you changed from one
fearsome beast
to another.
I was scared.
I was angry.
So I ran.
And then looked for you in
every
other
man
I met.

Can your belt beat out of me that guilt?

Not really.
Not ever.

But spanking my pussy as you held my legs apart
Whipping with anger, with love and with lust
You slashed to shreds my stubborn will
As if with the knife you're
forbidden
to bring in the house
closing your ears and sadistic soul to the
siren song of
my belly.

I sobbed.
I suffered.
I surrendered my soul.
And offered myself to
everything

everything

I ran from before.

Oh Matron Saint of Foolish Vows,
please help me keep my word!

How do you use me? Let me count the ways.

A pair of poems, written in response to yesterday's encounter and recommitment.

The literary inspiration should be obvious.
The first poem was the direct response.
The next was an attempt to wrestle it into proper sonnet form.
Wrestling indeed.
A struggle for sure.
But then, he loves seeing me struggle.

He's not into bondage, by the way.
He expects self-restraint.
Force of will.
And of not that, restraint by his hands.

Anyway, here is the pair of efforts, posted with his permission. I'm nearly trembling with delight at how returning to his control has inspired me. (He does inspire trembling. Especially with orgasm denied.)

Note: I'd be most grateful for any comments, if only to let me know that you are here and noticed that I am.

~ ~ ~ ~

How Do You Use Me?How do you use me? Let me feel the ways.

You beat me to the heat and depth and pain

My ass can bear when offered to your belt

And then beyond to what you know I need.

You torture me with twists and bites and slaps

On tender tits and taunting nipple ends

While feeding on my frightened helpless screams

And holding fast my wrists with brutal grip.

You show no mercy towards those tender parts

That cower there between my beaten thighs

And blush and swell with want and pain and shame.
You fuck me sore with angry hungry lust

And drink capitulation from my eyes

And know that I will love you all the same.

~ ~ ~

How do you use me? Let me feel the ways.

You beat me to the heat and depth and pain

Your belt upon my ass can fast attain

And then beyond until my wild eyes glaze.

You torture me with slaps and bites and twists

On tender tits and taunting nipples red

While feeding on my frightened cries of dread

And making clear the purpose of our trysts.

You show no mercy to poor Pussy’s cave 

That cowers wet between my beaten thighs

And blushing, swells with want and pain and shame.

With hungry thrusts you fuck your someday slave

And drink capitulation from my eyes -

And know that I will love you all the same.