Image is not my own

Pulsing, dripping, very wet, let’s see how noise you can get,

As I play my favorite game, as you whimper out my name,

Taking you to just the brink, Watching as your hopes all sink,

No release on this time ’round, Why would I stop your glorious sound?

Not a struggle do you make, Even though your body shakes,

Just two fingers hold you here, As I ever hover near.

Little trails of salty tears, drip down past your lovely ears,

In your eyes, I see you know, No release ’til I say so.

Though you whimper and you sob, You know well this is your job.

Be my toy to tweak and muss, Knowing that your needs are thus.

Little subby, little slut, object of my carnal lust,

As you sob another plea, as you give yourself to me,

Savor, I, your sweet submission, owned by me in deed’s intentioned,

In your heart, you still believe, Eventually, I will relieve.

And, your right, my moaning flower, I’ll let you come…in half-an-hour.

Master Grey 2/5/25