Head Scissors

His thighs hold my head firmly,
even though I try to squirm
away from the intimacy of this
delicious and humiliating hold.

Submit, he says through bared teeth
clenched with the strain of holding me
immobilized between his thighs.
Submit, he says again. I won't
submit, I say, my voice
orphaned inside my head as I
rejoice from beard to feet in his increase of control. Then,

Stop, I say, and murmur my submission to his thighs.