For my personal slave

For my personal slave

There he lies at my feet
my little slave,
as if he’s lived there for years
Fallen from the sky
and like an angel without wings
he gently kisses my feet
…Oh Mistress

My whips gently caress
his back with graceful curls
and his moans echo
in my sweetest dreams
With my nails I leave visible marks
on his skin and on my lips
my smile appears
for him, my little slave.

For my pleasure and my convenience
he may serve completely
and I wear his key on my chest
where no one else is allowed to go
he leaves his invisible marks…

My little slave,
I can only guess
at the place where his wings will take him…

© Mrs Moriah
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