Suits

A gothic suit stands in the door,
A sillouette of a man,
His voice speaks not,
His lips don't smile,
Bound, here I am,
Come closer still dear fellow,
Whisper down to me ,
See that knife?
Please take it,
And stroke me till I bleed,
Suck me till I'm dry please,
Will you be so kind?
I'm nothing if not for you,
So please feel oblidged,
The suited man draws closer,
And breathing fills the air,
His hand tight to the knife,
He'll use it if he dare.