Camp Slave
by Peter Loaf

High in the mountains, volcano extinct
The perfect hideout, no-one would think
Foggy air chilly
Been a bit silly
Trusting a stranger, taking a drink

Climbing the canyon, topping the rim
World going funny, my vision dim
Spinning sensation
Sudden deflation
Falling flat blackness, I trusted him

Waking up helpless, elbows and wrists
Boot laces hobbled, my useless fists
Overhung feeling
My head still reeling
The monsoon season, the coastal mists

Retching I struggle, trying to rise
Flat on back helpless, His captured prize
On knees positioned
Like art commissioned
Half naked captive, and cloudy skies

His organ snaking, down trouser leg
Hair knot Hes tying, I try to beg
My pleas ignoring
Body exploring
Chase me game playing, butt hooking peg

Rock walls surrounding, grey overcast
Bootlaces hobbled, not very fast
Hide and seek tracking
The deck Hes stacking
Canned hunter rapist, nevermore chaste

I see him sometimes, looking at ground
Theres no escaping, rocks all around
Hobble blind tripping
Sanity gripping
Falling flat helpless, and quickly found

Taken to campsite, tethered on knees
Stripping His camies, smelling head cheese
My neck bending back
A deep-throat attack
His snake like pecker, my titty squeeze

Weekend together, my options few
My grave hes digging, I take my cue
Some slack Im working
The wrist rope jerking
Terror transforming, my strength renew

The grey skies darken, a lighting bolt
To tent Hes running, He is no dolt
My hair comes ripping
My hobbles tripping
Wrath of God striking, ten billion volt

The tent poles carbon, easiest path
Thunderclap instant, you do the math
My captor extinct
And all in a blink
The blue sky follows, Frisco flight path

Finding a fire, bootlaces burned
Hobble defeated, freedom hard earned
The ridge Im climbing
With perfect timing
Smokejumpers drifting, my rescue yearned

Camp Slave