by Peter Loaf
My Master’s orders, stare straight ahead
I must not watch him, my stomach lead
My first time subbing
My clitty rubbing
Toe in my business, blushing bright red
Arms and legs folded, down on all fours
Broodmare position, in season horse
High wide and swollen
Fleshy bells tollin’
Submission complete, pulse throbbing Morse
Elbows and kneecaps, stumping around
Sitting behind me, interest new found
Hard lumpy and rough
His foot deep enough
Stump-breaking session, so tightly bound
His quiet chuckle, my subbie juice
A poem he’s reading, ready for use
Tickle-toe stretching
My breathing catching
Subbie lust building, short burning fuse
Gas pedal stepping, my juices flow
My hipbones creaking, his smallest toe
Four toes inside me
Big toe to ride me
Passion exploding, stumpy horse show
First ever topping, waited so long
He kneels behind me, his hands so strong
My hips are lifted
His organ gifted
My Master thrusting, oversized dong
I need to see him, I twist around
His hand comes slapping, my bottom round
The spasms return
His paycheck he earns
My bottom it burns, subbie space found
