Need

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.