Why I Was Born

There she stands, one leg up,
Horny as hell, wanting to fuck.
Pulling cheeks open, leaning to show,
She’s ready for me, to play with her holes.
How can I resist, as I crawl to her feet,
Help open her up, push tongue into peach.
Once there teasing, teasing to please,
She finds her happiness, I’m finally at ease.
She pushes back, as eager tongue slides,
Her legs quiver, as I push on inside.
Lapping up pleasure, feeding the flow.
Her fist in my hair, she’ll not let me go.
Not that is, until she cums,
My Goddess, my Mistress, my Alpha one.
And me? I’ll be happy, her juice over my face.
For that’s why I was born, born to be her sex slave.

Hurt Me

When I ask you to hurt me,
I don’t mean break my heart.
I want to be beaten,
Physically broken, taken apart.
When I ask you to hurt me,
I need to feel pain.
Not an aching heart.
But humiliation that drains.
When I ask you to hurt me,
I give you all trust in my heart.
Hope that you’ll take care to repair me,
Once my demons depart.


I am your slave,

You own me.

You possess me,

My body, My soul.

I want you,

To use me,

To utilise me,

My cock, fingers, tongue, all of me whole!

I am your pleasure,

It pleases me,

Apeases me,

Gives me meaning, a reason to be.

I need you,

You need me,

You have freed me,

My adored Goddess, my world, you make me, me.