Paul Marshall

Rookie (07/04/1973 / Boise, ID)

Pleasure Slave - Poem by Paul Marshall

I pull your hair.
Your moans get louder.
I grasp your throat.
You gasp for breath.
I smack your ass.
You call out in pain.
I release myself into you.
You scream for more.
I toss you to the ground.
Now you beg for more.
I snear.....Now you belong to me.


Comments about Pleasure Slave by Paul Marshall

  • Jodie Phillips (2/15/2007 10:15:00 AM)

    My love respects my body and I trust him so completely and want him to do those things...so who is 'sick'....me? him? or the one not willing to explore something new? (Report)Reply

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  • Ronald Stroman (2/13/2007 6:42:00 PM)

    until the slave figures out, that having a slave themself... beggin' for snacks (smackin') is a very good to selfishly have too. (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Poem Edited: Friday, January 14, 2011


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