Twas the night of self bondage, when all thru the condo
Not a thing was out of place, not even a dildo
The slave was hung from the ceiling with care
In hopes that his Mistress would soon be there
He was dressed as a slut, as ordered by her
All stockings and tight dress and maybe even some fur
He had on a pair of panties to make it feel slick
It was designed to continually tease his poor prick
And on his head he wore a tight hood
He could see nothing, and tried not he could
And in his mouth he had stuffed a penis gag
And in his butt, a pink plug right out of the bag
The alarm was set for an hour later,
At which time, he would be a masturbator.
The minutes went by like water dripping from a sink
He had nothing to watch, so all he did was think
Of how horny he was, and suffering for her
But not being tortured did not even occur
Because a slave is what he is, to his Mistress no doubt
And suffer he must, with or without
His Mistress who was off, playing in France
Eating wonderful food, and perhaps having a dance
With dark haired Europeans, who were hung like a horse
While here from the ceiling, the slave hung of course
The seconds ticked by, and his arms did ache,
He was sore all over, and needed a break
But on he went because that was her orders
And please her he must, not push her borders
And then an hour later, the alarm did ring
And he let himself down to do his thing
Which consisted of jacking off into a bowl
And licking up said contents as was her goal
The cum came out with great relief
And he knew that beyond all belief
He had met the Mistress for him, who owned his dick
And her body he needed, for all of it to lick
And this weird behavior, he cannot explain
Except that it draws all the blood from his brain
But like it they do, for the pleasure it creates
And for what in them, it quiets and sates.
So on handcuffs, on strap ons, on latex and such
Because this is what a slave needs to get in touch
With the world of his sexuality and his inner self
And with the intimacy of his Mistress?s feminine wealth.
And other parts of her too that he holds so dear
Even though the process may seem so queer
But he smiles exhausted, thinking of her rich delight
And he drifts off to sleep, and to all a good night!
