This is one I scratched out for Iron Poet Challenge at the Games board:

His voice as sweet as silk and wine
brought us to this golden meadow
for joys he left unsaid - oh
the pleasure to be one called "mine".

Down the glowing dusky line
of a footpath shining pink and blue
I hurried through the dark, to say anew
I was his slut. He met me by the Serpentine

Amongst the grass so velveteen
I faced Master, who on the phone
had promised me "It won't be seen"

He came forth and kissed me to the bone
then promised to brand me in between
my privates. "so you, my dear, won't be blown

off course, and will always know who's your Own."

The Serpentine is the lake in Hyde Park, London, of course.