Her Claim

Dominatrix grasps a boys neck and he knows who owns him

Because she values my submission, obedience, adoration, and greed.
Because she craves my trembling weakness in her embrace.
Because she loves my strength everywhere else.

Because she lusts after my supplication, the ache of my need.
Because she expects it and forever
wants more.

Because the weight of her gaze is comfort.
Because the extent of her control is bliss.
Because the depths of her sadism
and my depravity have
yet to be explored.

Because she often says:

-You’ll do as you’re told
as you are my boy.
So beg for it.
Beg sweet
boy –

and means every word.

Because she wants to know each and every softened inch she  possesses.
Because she is patient yet constantly probing for the most intimate
knowledge of every darkened corner
each twisted turn.

Because she wants me under her thumb: collared, plugged, and curled up.
Because she expects me eager to kneel at her feet.
Because she says that is where I belong.

Because she is right –
She lays claim
to me.


Love this poem? Here’s another you might enjoy.


8 thoughts on “Her Claim

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