Ruin Me in Rhythm

Click. The cuffs.
Tight no bluff.
My breath is gone, but not enough.
You stalk around, a god, a flame,
I whimper once you moan my name.

Snap. The tie.
Around my neck,
A silken leash, a private wreck.
You yank me close, lips don’t meet,
Just heat, just growl, just crave and beat.

“On. My. Lap.” Your voice, so slow,
Each word a slap, a darkened blow.
I climb like sin, bare and sweet,
Your thighs, my throne. My rightful seat.

“Beg,” you say, with eyes like ash.
“Make it worth the final crash.”
I stutter, ache, my voice unsure,
“I’m your slave use me, Sir.”

You blindfold me in brutal grace,
Your hunger pressed against my face.
And in the dark, I lose all thought
Just heat and rhythm, slick and caught.

You thrust. I break.
You pull. I shake.
You take your time then strip it fake.
“Moan for me, pet,” you whisper cold,
“My filthy slut, my whore to hold.”

Your rhythm’s rough  pounding beat,
My hips held down, your grip so sweet.
I’m soaking screams into the floor,
But still I beg, I ache for more.

“Drive me deeper, wreck me fast,
Make me yours and make it last.
Mark me up inside, around,
Fuck me till I don’t hear sound.”

You bite my shoulder, hard and deep,
A promise inked that makes me weep.
You growl, “You’re mine. You live to kneel.
You’re only real when I let you feel.”

And I do I feel it all:
The slap, the spit, the rise, the fall.
The rhythm of pain, the mercy denied,
The way I come with your hand inside.

No light, no lies just your demand,
Your voice, your tie, your ruthless hand.
And in this ruin, bound and sore
I am not lost. I am yours.