“Precious” he calls me, 
Though the world does not see
The love that we share.
He runs his fingers through my hair.

“Precious,” he tells me, 
“Be the best ‘you’ you can be.”
Gently encouraging, 
Wanting, urging.

“Precious,” he calls me, 
“You know you are free
Though I hope and pray
You want to stay.”

“Precious,” he tells me, 
“Turn on the lights, I want to see.”
My trembling desire, 
Igniting his fire.

“Precious,” he calls me, 
“With your raving beauty
You’re so divine
I’m proud you’re mine!”

“Precious,” he tells me, 
“Come sit upon my knee
I want to feel your shiver
As you cum with a quiver.”

Precious is now my name,
Given when I first came. 
Owned by him completely,
Loved by him so sweetly.