Sting

The jingle-jangling of his leather belt loosening,

The hard floor underneath my knees.

The press of the mattress against my face,

The sound of his shoes as he steps closer to me.

The crack, then the sting, of the leather on flesh,

The thud and the hammer inside.

The purr of his voice, the whispered “Good girl”,

Then, proudly, the tears sting my eyes.

3 thoughts on “Sting

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