Ode To WHIP

The WHIP looms LARGE in my lowly life

I fear its STING

I fear its BITE

Yet I praise its MIGHT

Its POWER to SUBDUE

When it turns my BACK a crimson hue!

 

The WHIP is forever the slave’s defeat

Compelling to kiss his masters’ FEET!

I have been ordered by my mistress to kneel beneath the WHIP for THREE HOURS...

...and to contemplate its POWER over me!

The WHIP!... The MIGHTY WHIP!

How I fear, and yet at the same time admire, its LEATHERY BITE

My mistress's nearby discarded SOCKS and SHOES are a further reminder to me of my lowly duties!

But, even when my mistress herself takes a seat at the nearby writing desk...

...to work on her laptop...

...I am not distracted by the SNEAKERS and SOCKS currently on her FEET

Whilst I shall no doubt be required to kiss them in due course...

...for now my focus must remain on the WHIP on the wall!

Better to humbly and obediently study the WHIP...

...than to feel its angry BITE!

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