When he slaps her ass with his leather glove
He says he dreams about the curve of her hips
She feels the stinging lash on her back from his whip
He lives for her screams of anguish and ecstacy
She's left beaten, sore, ravished but empty
He says her tears bring him incredible joy
She's left on the floor like a discarded broken toy
He says he will cherish her until the day he dies
Her tears a mask of pleasure seen only through his eyes
He cannot breathe without her; for his life would be a waste
She feels absolutely nothing for him until they're face to face
He says she touches him to the very core of his soul
She laughs at this; he is a tool of pleasure and under her control
If her orgasms were brought on without agonizing pain
She would no longer need him and soon forget his name
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