Whipping Bench
by Peter Loaf

Made of strong timbers, an oaken trap
Legs spread and open, wrists in a strap
Can hardly wiggle
Suppressing giggle
Clamping my elbows, a gentle slap

Trusting my Master, his eyes aglow
Hooded and costumed, on with the show
The dungeon staging
My subbie raging
The flogger striking, pleasure I know

Moll Flanders playing, a jazzy tune
Sweet jenny singing, a night in June
My bottom bouncing
Getting a trouncing
Bottom cheeks burning, bright as the moon

Wiggle kick struggle, held in the wood
The flogger pain-ting, ‘tis understood
My subbie needing
Libido feeding
My passion rising, we knew it would

The watchers quiet, the place is packed
Moll Flanders castle, my passion wracked
Pheromones smelly
My fuck-me jelly
Tickle clit teasing, my bottom smacked

Nipple clips pinching, one on my clit
Whip handle shoving, back where I shit
Dildo inflating
Open and waiting
Pussy lips crimson, the tightest fit

The cane comes stinging, over the top
Orgasms crashing, oh please don’t stop
Pain/pleasure needed
My subbie breed-ed
Moll Flanders castle, my one stop shop

Whipping Bench