I’m Coming

On my hands and knees,

  staring up at you.

Sitting still while you blindfold me,

  pausing so I can kiss your fingertips.

A ball-gag placed,

  dampening my cries.

A soft paddling on my rosy cheeks,

  flush with the print of your hands.

You walk away, lounge on the bed.

"Come," you say.

And I find myself crawling back to you,

towards your deep, rich voice,

  the better to bask in your sweet sweet

     pain.