A masked muscular man
Approaches me, whip in hand.
I know not why I'm being punished,
Yet a twisted part of me takes pleasure in the pain.
"Stop!" dare I yell?
Or shall I be punished yet again?
I am ashamed that I yearn more
Of a maltreatment so gore.
Master orders me on my knees,
Then has his way with me.
The sick pleasure delights us further and further
As we die inside each other.