Her eager female sub in tow,
Black skirt, white blouse, red nails sharp
Not a stitch for the sub below.
On hands and knees
The little slave
Looks up to her through pretty eyes,
Desire, desire is all she feels,
For her, she puts on her best show.
For later, when the fires have waned,
And Mistress’ tongue, whiskey tinged,
Invades her mouth,
And Mistress’ fingers,
Take her curves,
The little slave knows
She is all,
And special to Miss Candy Cane.
So, who needs who?
And what is love,
If it dwells not in
The need to cage?
Too pretty,
The sweet sub who,
Dreamlike crawls,
And Mistress fears,
That in the morning,
She’ll be gone,
So who owns who?
And what is lust,
If it dwells not
In the green eyes of jealousy?
What is love,
If the fear of loss is all consuming?
And who knows who is really caged?
Turn out the light,
And dream.