A gallery of leather, dark and deep,
Each stroke a whisper, secrets they keep.
From supple bullhide to stingray's keen edge,
A tactile symphony, a fetish-fed pledge.
 
Handles curved as lovers' embrace,
Thongs that promise a fiery chase.
With every lash, a story untold,
Desires ignited, passions unrolled.
 
A collector's passion, a sensual art,
Each whip a masterpiece, a work of heart.
In shadowed corners, they silently wait,
For eager hands to seal their fate.