Around a tightly woven fist
she tiptoes and balances,
her entire body,
on a centered square inch.
There is no one left to save her,
he steps forward with her instructions.
She nods with the go ahead.
For a girl who has never truly given
she’s about to hand her leash to him.
Bound by the four corners
of their negotiated contract
their safe word is buried in her throat.
Her stoic eyes are set into his.
She’s determined to see this through
comfortable enough to settle in
he wraps her wrists around cords,
she tests their strength
by hanging limp.
Tempted by the Gods of fate
she’s waited her entire life for this.
Her instructions were clearly understood,
bring her out of her gilded cage.
Make her face love’s playful edge.
Stepping into her ankle restraints now
he prefers her heels to remain
it’ll give his tall frame an advantage.
The perfect angle to her bottom.
Properly secured, the girl has this
prideful stance, he can’t wait break.
To bring her down,
biting on her lower lip, and yet,
she’s been instructed to keep it all in,
until she’s told she can let it out.
Understand these sessions of theirs
they’re never done as a punishment.
She’s to look and wear her favorite corset.
Gothic Steampunk, something she knew,
was sure to please him. Remember,
he’s her pleasure source
Together, they chose
the strength of the leathers to be used.
Pleasure mixed with pain,
it takes some practice
to get things just right.
He wants to leave the tiniest of marks
on her polished bottom, marks that
are left by his exact nervous hands.
She trusts in his aim,
he knows exactly where to strike.
That first “thwack” sets the mood,
he instructs, they’ll work in slow sets
a pattern of leather control.
“Is this understood?”
She answers always in a certain way,
“If it pleases you Sir.”
It prompts an even harder “thwack”
To her surprise,
a wetness trickles, she’s not quite sure
at what just happened to her body.
There was one sure thing though
she felt his control, control her body.
By the time her welts started to take shape,
he was prepared with ice in hand.
There was something about,
this need in the girl, to beg.
“Please Sir, if you wish to continue…”
With one everlasting correction
the whip was void of passion
and it truly stung.
“You’ll hold your tongue, is this understood?”
She obeyed with just eyes this time.
‘Topping from below’
was not going to be tolerated.
Delicately tipping her submissive chin,
she waited for him
to continue their Black Friday session.
Dragonfly Poetry 
Indeed it does. A flower will never be able to reach its full potential if its needs are not met: nourishment, light, water and affection. These are necessary for both the Gardener and the flower. To what end? An appreciation of beauty and being given the means to express itself.
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Thank you for reading and giving the insight. I think everything comes down to love and attention.
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Ahhh the beauty of the Dominant and submissive relationship. There are many who mistake it as some sort of kinky sex, yet they cannot fully comprehend what it feels like to share a trust and a bond that surpasses the physical.
If one cannot feel it in the heart and gut, if one cannot give one’s self completely to another, how can one begin to understand what trust, loyalty and honesty truly mean?
What does love mean? It is not just a romantic notion. It is difficult to put into words what it truly feels like to give over to Him.
The beauty lies in that there is a give and take. What the Dominant and submissive shares transcends into a relationship that is meant to nurture, protect and blossom. B/both benefit greatly from this exchange.
Mayhap “The Garden Lessons” will provide a better insight…if one dares. Smiles.
i know You better than any other. Thank You, Poet for sharing Your words that continue to kindle the fire.
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Beautifully interesting
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