Fevered Mind

A poem by Sydney Stone. I do not own the image.

NSFW.

***

Faithfully, do I drink,

The poison in your eyes,

As I lower my head to taste,

To the honey betwixt your thighs.

To hear your soft moans,

Is a song to my soul,

Your nails on my scalp,

Sending shivers through my bones.

Your harsh encouragement,

Lashes at my pride,

As I lap up the nourishment,

You so jealously hide.

Have I been good?

Tell me that at least,

Have I served you as I should?

Assuaging the beast.

Arching back, and crooning cry,

Marks your climax met,

As well as the flow of honey,

That drips upon my breasts.

In a vice, you grip my chin,

Forcing my gaze up to meet,

Your satisfied grin,

Whispering that sweetest phrase,

I so dutifully crave.

“You’ve been a good girl, now go and rest.

As Mistress thinks up new ways,

To put your skills to the test.”