I sit down with a cup of tea to write the sweetest stories
wanting to talk about pink-cheeked co-eds
just discovering their taste for discipline
and their lovers who happily comply,
and spank them all the rosier.
Then, with all parties turned-on,
they segue to love-making and cuddles;
desire and fulfillment.
But I end up telling tales
of the most brutal butt-whippings
with belts and paddles and canes,
bruises, blisters, and tears,
and sex that’s raunchy and dirty.
I like to tell myself that I don’t know where these things come from,
but last night’s all-nighter, when you
rode me hard and used the riding crop on my haunches
until you wore me out, informs me otherwise.
And I wonder, sipping my tea, when I’ll next be able to sit…