Your hand across my neck
is like a brand upon my hip.
The collar I wear
a physical manifestation of our bond.
The chains you hold,
the welts on my buttocks,
like the whip you wield,
to the rope that binds me.
This is the contract we share.
Should I choose to speak
the one word that stops everything,
you will release your hold,
drop all implements
and with infinite gentleness,
care for my needs.
By your dominance you affirm
that I am yours,
by my submission I affirm
that you are mine.

© Johanna Kaye Fugitt 2017