There is something about Being pushed up against
a wall, face first Cheek resting on rough wallboard Breath
caught in your throat Listening to the growling in your ear
And trying to remember your own name
There's something about
being Pushed up against a wall Your back flat up against it
Staring straight into eyes that see through you Swallowing
hard Waiting for your heart to start beating again
There's something about Being made to crawl across the floor
To a seated Man, staring into your eyes Not letting you not look
at Him Not letting you stumble Drawing you to Him without a
word Trembling, a whimper caught in your throat
There's
something about Being pulled up by your hair Feeling that
hand slink up your neck Into your tresses, close to the scalp
Grabbing, gripping it, guttural sounds emitting from His lips
The pain not nearly as strong as the urge To cry or bite a
hole through your bottom lip
There's something about
Being bitten Especially on the back of the neck or nipple
Feeling His teeth so close to piercing you Wondering, as you cry
out, if He will, this time Wondering, if you're going to bleed
for your Submission
There's something about Being bent
over the back of a chair, without warning Without pretense,
without question Having your skirt flipped up, cool air hitting
hot skin Your cheeks blushing, with the same color of your ass
As He warms it with the striking of the palm of His hand The
tears you cry not cooling you The tears you cry because He has
found you
There's something about Being slapped across
the face Not backhanded, but smacked to bring about A change
in behavior A change in attitude To make that lovely wail
come from deep in your chest You long to make it, as He longs to
hear it
There's something about Those words He uses
Those names He calls you Those phrases meant to elicit a
response And you do respond All of you responds And your
body betrays you, always
There's something about Being
thrown down and taken Not against your will For your will is
to be there To please, to submit, to offer, to relinquish
And you cry out for breath, for more, for Him And you know you
are home
There's something about Being drug in the
shower Forced to your knees Hissed at for silence
Growled at to be still And awaiting the flow That you know
Marks You as HIS
There's something about Kneeling
quietly beside Him Your body bruised, reddened, coated, tired
Your mind silent, for once ~ for a time Your head bowed,
your eyes closed Your lips quivering as His fingers touch you
Your submission, unquestioned Your Peace at Hand
"Master's Hand"
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