All Dressed And No One To See

He said He would be there.
“Kneel at the door at five,” He said.
“Wear those ‘fuck me’ shoes
that I love to see and nothing else.”
she knelt and waited, body proud.
her hair brushed against her shoulders;
her face shined with joy
to see Him again.
Spread thighs framed her freshly
shaved mound.
It glistened merely from the thought of Him,
the thought of His voice and His touch.
her skin flushed as she imagined the crop
brushing softly between her slit
and then lashing her tender flesh.
Subtly her hips lifted as she anticipated
the handle deep in her, fucking her, owning her.
her cries and sobs echoing off His strong body
and bouncing back to her.
her hands clutched her forearms behind her back..
she listened for the sound of the key,
but only heard the large Grandfather
clock tick the seconds away,
she heard the minutes pass; her arms quivered;
her bottom sank onto her heels;
her back relaxed and her
head fell forward.
How long does one wait until
breaking position is not
considered disobedience?
When does her realization that He is not
going to come become reality?
As the clock rang the six o’clock hour,
she crawled to the chair and sat.
her body reflected her despondence and despair.
Once again, He did not arrive.
she waits for His call yet again,
sitting in the muted light of the window.