Pelgris

The thought of her skin
The softness of her as my hands run over her
The feel of the hairs on her arms
Running fingers lightly over, barely touching
Teasing
The slap of leather to skin
The sound of her voice, whispering through my bones
Painfull moans
She kneels in first position, head bowed
I reach down, running hand along jawline
Tilt her lovely face to mine
“You are my very good girl”
Her smile, and her eyes, shining with pride
Her reply, “thank you, Sir”
My heart full to bursting,
Fierce pride, joy filling every inch
My submissive, my girl, my miss
Mine.