The Spanking Poet
 

With bottom round, she draped o'er my knee.
She tensely awaited swats from me.
First came my hand 'cross the seat of her jeans.
Then, I had her drop trow. Was I mean?

Upon her knickers, fell straps and belts.
On her bare skin, my canes left some welts.
Kicks and cries answered each single strike.
While on her bare skin, there were red stripes.

Once it was over, I rubbed her skin
As she laid sobbing yet once again.
The sting turned to heat and I was thanked.
Glad she was with her bottom well spanked.