02 Apr 2024

In the shadows of his presence, I stand,
A mere silhouette in his commanding hand.
His voice, a symphony of authority,
Conducting the movements of my reality.

In the tapestry of his desire, I'm woven tight,
Bound by threads of passion, dark as night.
His gaze, a tempest in my soul,
A whirlwind of dominance, I can't control.

His touch, a wildfire upon my skin,
Igniting every nerve, from deep within.
I tremble, beneath his potent sway,
Lost in the tumult of his dominant play.

His words, a spell that I'm unable to break,
Echoing through me, every move I make.
I'm his canvas, painted with submission,
Every stroke, a testament to his ambition.

In the fortress of his arms, I find my rest,
Safe and secure, within his conquest.
He is my king, and I his loyal subject,
In his dominance, I find my perfect object.

Yet, in the quiet of the night, I wonder,
Am I but a pawn, in his game of plunder?
Or do I hold the power, hidden deep inside,
To break free from the chains of my own pride?

But then his presence, like a storm, draws near,
And I'm consumed by the intoxicating fear.
For in his dominance, I find my release,
And in his embrace, I find my peace.

So let me be dominated by his love,
Bound by the chains, as stars above.
For in his dominance, I find my strength,
And in his embrace, I'll go to any length.

So I'll surrender willingly, to his command,
For in his dominance, I'll always stand.
A willing captive, to his every whim,
For in his love, my soul finds its hymn.






47 f Tn

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