In the morning - The ballad of The Harpy and The Wolf

[JackJonesHull]

Down the winding stair the daylight trickled
Unmasking the darkened night before

The Wolf laid still his wrists still strapped
Upon the Harpy's silken bed

She watched him wake from 'cross the room
Upon her gilded precious throne

The whips hung by, still unused
Not taken from their heavy hooks

But darkened clothes were strewn all about
In places they had been thrown

Against the Wolf's very nature
The Harpy had taken him abed

He'd submitted to her every whim
Knowing that this was the price he paid

But resistance can be the enemy
Of finding joys previously unknown

[JackJonesHull]

This was a third part.