|Asphyxia - 040813 - Miz B|
In your grasp
Is 34 inches of leathered
Trust and devotion.
Perfectly balanced around
My neck of ivory and crème
I yield to you.
I yield to
The slow embrace
Of leather that straddles
The asphyxiated lines
Of ecstasy and oblivion
This is the moment...
The pregnant pause
Before Le petit mort's fire
sizzles on salacious tongue
Like fireflies behind delicate eyelids.
No need for safe word or safety nets
I freefall into the safety of knowing
You know me, my wants and desires
My strengths and weaknesses
You know the light and dark of me
And this is why I yield to you.
My petals swell with the gentle nature of
Your touch, the roughness of your pluck-ing
And I exposed my neck to feel the vampire bite
Of the cool steel belt buckle across my neck.
My lips glisten with the taste of trust
For nothing tastes sweeter than this
And right here, I am the bruised fruit
Handled with care in your hands
Take your fill of me until
My devotion runs sticky down your
You are the Master to my submissive
The sub to my dominate ways
This is the place where
Devotion and trust resides
Where I Yield to