Rhyme and unreason

A poetry special! Well, I can’t let PP have all the glory. Plus, I expect some of you are masochists, so you should enjoy these. I’ve been told my poetry is great upon the ears… or something that sounded very like that, anyway.

Two wonderful dommes with whom Servitor has had the painful pleasure…

The gimp and the simp – a poem

A silly little thing (I know I am but what are you? Oh no, hang on…). Anyway, just a poem, not worth taking up a whole posting slot, so up it goes as an extra.

“I don’t know how you cope”

Said the gimp to the simp

“With her constant demands for more cash.

Don’t you long when you meet her, to kiss shoes to greet her

Or serve as a tray for her ash?”

 

“It’s my kink and that’s that.”

Said the simp to the gimp

“But your lifestyle is hardly ideal.

Caged or chained all alone, with no life of your own

Till you’re summoned to crawl at her heel.”

 

“I’m her pet and I’m proud!”

Said the gimp to the simp

And he showed off his monogrammed collar.

“You’re just moneyslave 9; when you’re typing online

All she sees is the sign of the dollar.”

 

“At least I can type”

Said the simp to the gimp

Showing fingers splayed out, with a grin.

“I can move my hands freely and stand on my feet – see?

My meals don’t come out of a tin.”

 

“Right!” – started the gimp

But his voice was soon stopped

By a ball gag, inserted at speed.

“Your mouth’s not to bicker, you boot and floor-licker!”

And the gimp was dragged off on a lead.

 

“Well that finished fast”

The simp chortled in glee

Then with shock he caught sight of his phone.

“Too slow to reply – that’s three times now, so bye!”

And he sat there, all sad and alone.

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