I wrote this sonnet four years ago as a task. I didn’t know how sonnets worked and I didn’t write poetry when the task was given. I would never have attempted it under any other circumstances. Reading this still makes my heart burst with love for him.

What is it about him that I so adore?

His gift of commands as I strive to obey.

The rush of endorphins that surge as we play.

The pain turning to pleasure while the tears pour.


He limits my will as I kneel on the floor.

My biggest challenge: to control what I say.

My fear that my weakness my mouth will betray

And my needs and demands will start to outpour.


What are the effects of my total submission?

My body belongs to him for his pleasure.

My exploration, only with his permission.

His satisfaction, the only element worth measure.


But my fierce love for him is beyond his control.

His inscription of “mine” is engraved on my soul.



Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

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