Marked
He marked by body with lines of red;
A feral growl in His throat as He dragged
the shining razor edge along porcelin skin.
Harsh, the reminders of ownership.
Pain came, fleeting, quickly overcome,
overwhelmed by the pleasure of
being found pleasing in His eyes.
Slave again, she served...
Still, as only a drawing board,
His toy, His mark on her skin,
she trembled,
not wanting to accept this hand of fate.
inside, she screamed,
"i am more than this"
"i am more than this"
find me again...