Waiting

Dressed in his favorite dress
Smelling of Obsession
In my most beautiful shoes
Perched on the edge of the chair

Carefully glancing around the room
Looking at all of my Masters tools
To some they would inspire fear
In me they only cause my pulse to race

Silk ropes and cords
leather straps and whips
paddles and blindfolds
cuffs with carefully hidden keys

These are the things he uses
But mostly it is his words
They control me, mold me
inspire me and desire me

I am his and his alone
His passion for me overwhelming
The heat of his kiss, intense
His aroma, intoxicating

Without a touch he moves me
Without a sound he directs me
His eyes lead me
His words caress me

I sit with baited breath for his arrival
Knowing that soon he will come
To take control of me
To lead me to surrender