My need is deep,
I thirst for a beating
And the ritual that embeds the act.
Anticipation,
The presentation of self
The standing before another.
Waiting to be told to strip.
The anticipating of the command
I lower myself, literally,
I do this willingly so,
The submissive feeling floods my mind.
Then my body with lust.
Wanting that rod,
Listening for the swoosh Of cane
As it descends through the air
I have for weeks lamented It’s sad absence,
I have to satisfy myself with images
The passing on of words
That have replace the bite of cane into flesh.
I consider mentally
When and how that act will be
accommodated
When in my days
I will bend and receive your want.
After a week or so
The fear that drives the need
Becomes a foreshadow
That somehow that need to bend and find once more
My submissive heart will be unmet.