Whip Hand

Posted by Aristotle seeking Phyllis | Femdom Poetry |

To be an artist with the whip
Your daily practice must not slack,
And so your target does not slip
I am spreadeagled on your rack.

I am not here at your command,
I begged to be allowed to serve.
I asked to suffer at your hand,
You give me more than I deserve.

I cannot help myself but cry
At my first taste of your whip’s kiss,
Hearing you laugh reminds me why
It was that I asked you for this.

I’m pained to learn I find it joy
To serve you as your whipping boy.

About The Author

Aristotle seeking Phyllis

Aristotle, a volunteer service sub at FemdomU Magazine, has recently embraced his true identity as a submissive. With a passion for music and poetry, he finds his deepest satisfaction in service, especially in traditionally subservient tasks like cleaning and organizing, primarily for women. This work deepens his connection to his intrinsic nature. Aristotle channels his experiences and emotions into poetry, using each verse to document his personal transformation. Magazine readers can anticipate regular insights from Aristotle through his reflective essays and poignant poetry. View Full Profile

1 Comment

Autumn on November 20, 2024 at 2:57 pm

Aristotle, your domme Mizz Geena asked me if I’ve read your poetry, and if so, what did I think? I’ll admit I had not been reading much – but this one certainly speaks to me. Perhaps my travels would bring me close enough to you, I could introduce you to my whip – do you happen to live near any universities?

Loading...

Reply