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Click hereShe separates each "master" from his words;
This makes a change from separating clothes
From dominants who utter wicked oaths
In the hope that her efforts will be spurred
To take cock in her mouth. Yes, she has heard
Their urgency in whispers, but she'll shove
Those ordered paths aside; she'd rather rove
More freely - the catharsis she preferred
Is something most can't control. Stupid jerks
Will disregard the blackness of her dress
And sorrow in her countenance; each waits
His turn to be rejected - they are berks:
She'll treat them like the jokes they are - the mess
They make shows them to be mere reprobates...