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Click hereAt the intersection of pain and pleasure,
legs don't work to run and hide.
It isn't a matter of pride
to use the word we've agreed on.
Pushed past limits,
expanding boundaries, endurance.
Go slow... at first.
Who's really in control?
The one with the paddle...
or the one in the padded restraints?
You can have as much as you want
or, at least, as much as I'll give you.
Blown wide open, detonated inside.
Have you never crossed the line?
I want to take you there.
Whimpering, crying, pleading,
but not saying that word
that will make it all stop.
Stung pink, rubbed in,
let it rest like dough,
kneaded and spanked,
before setting to again,
working it over,
letting it rise.
This is an excellent poem, love. I think you hit the notes with precise timing, clarity, and brevity. The imagery is distilled down to the simplest and yet most effective components- it's remarkable. I think this is really a great stride in your writing. Well done.
Showing a more deviant side are we? It's short and to the point without sacrificing a nice descriptive element!