Street Cleaning, part 1
A Better Life
by Peter Loaf

Out riding fence line, Border Patrol
The desert empty, going to pole
Our subbie finding
Her brutal binding
A canteen offered, she’d sell her soul

In hot sun tethered, caught her last night
The night she weathered, her bondage tight
Squatting there naked
Beaner half bak-ed
Our secret prison, head feeling light

Our job is stopping, alien hoard
Our section riding, mostly we’re bored
New tactic trying
Hitching rail tying
Illegal exposed, protests ignored

Keeping her balance, staying alive
Her pussy dripping, freedom deprive
A better life wanting
Riding crop taunting
Pussy lips pinking, to passion drive

Tethered and helpless, neck in a noose
Squatting behind her, give her a goose
My fingers fiddle
Her dripping piddle
Her hips I’m lifting, throat in a noose

Our captive screaming, unbending knees
Her pussy prouding, swollen pink crease
My pecker sounding
Her cervix pounding
Subbie lust breaking, Master to please

A new life wanted, her dreams come true
A slaver buying, from country new
The trade in humans
To Saudi zoomin’
Harem girl treasured, service air crew

Suddenly falling, crack of a gun
My partner stricken, turning to run
A second bullet
Striking my gullet
Head loose from shoulders, last flash of sun

In death’s dimension, body flopping
Look down in horror, no more topping
The beaner relieved
Her rescue believed
The buyer comes grinning, He’s slave shopping

A Better Life