Business Girl by Peter Loaf
Business girl walking, glow in the east
The butchers market, feeding the beast
Short skirt and stockings
Too many dockings
Butcher’s bread taking, my pimp to please
The alley quiet, usually loud
Warehouse abandoned, gone is the crowd
The Break Room it’s called
The butcher boys balled
Twenty buck quickies, nothing I’m proud
My purse is bulging, too many times
This last one longer, paying three times
The shadows moving
My eyes improving
The place not empty, a mugger climbs
Running for exit, stack heels to trip
His feet are quicker, getting a grip
I try hard to shout
He’s choking me out
Black curtain falling, a New York strip
Waking up daylight, out in alley
Hogtied and helpless, taking tally
There’s no one around
Too soon I’ll be found
My earnings stolen, my pimp Sally
Some schoolboys running, sliding to stop
“Help me I beg you, don’t call a cop”
The boys crowd above
Some push and some shove
Boldest one reaching, pulling down top
The hands get busy, I dare not scream
Panties they’re ripping, like fever dream
Hands cruel and kind
The gag wadding mine
Crusty pants stuffing, hot spurting cream
Circle jerk center, covered in cum
Siren approaching, scatter they run
Hooker left laying
Naked displaying
DNA circus, smelling of chum
The vice squad calling, turned over tied
Trunk of the unmarked, taken for ride
Hoboken headed
By slavers bedded
Sally come save me, gag muffled cried
Processing busy, Meat Market take
Sally calls “Sandy!” chain rattle make
The sweep successful
The hookers stressful
Shipping containers, marking Fruit Cake
Street sweeping duty, benefits flow
The hookers are gone, barges in tow
Slow boat for Timor
The freedom dreamer
Sally the server, the crew to know