Dominatrix, Doyenne, Shaman

She held fast to truth, this
Grim taskmaster, serving
Lashes to the mendacious,
And kisses to the veracious.

And all wanted to serve her,
Uncovering the wounds of
Brutal honesty, one kick to the
Crotch or messy cuddle at a time.

No one asks for enlightenment
In a Dungeon until the dominatrix
Shines through moral fog and
Removes both fear and reticence.

And secrets are sloughed off
As the previously damned
Rise shamelessly to a loving
Embrace they can’t refuse.

She’s crushed the ball gag
Under her heel so you can
Finally speak. So you can
Finally say your “peace.“

bdsmliberationmendacityveracity

◄ In Unironic Praise of Older Women

In Which Orgasms are Compared to Musical Elation ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message