Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Cropping Haiku


 Lying on the bed 
Awaiting his instructions,
Open to his will.

Naked, bare, patient
Pain heals, sweetly rips down on
Submission, a fine reward.

He leans over me
A gentle stroke into my
Warmth and dark softness

Master has two crops
Drumming, the music beating,
Reaping my desires.

This is my need, just
Touched by him. His crop pauses.
Flesh, waiting, trembles.



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