by Peter Loaf

The old man dying, crippled and weak
The butler hunting, a muffled squeak
The maiden captured, youthful mystique
Dracula feeding, her future bleak

Stripped of her nightie, binding her tight
The old man drooling, the dark of night
The butler serving, the devil’s rite
Pretty young virgin, a toothsome sight

His youthful vigor, Viagra dosed
The dead reviving, gonna get hosed
The maiden screaming, her case is closed
Maidenhead guarding, her terror shows

Thunderfuck ripping, blood droplets spray
Bound tight and bucking, a cane to flay
Her youth he’s draining, to her dismay
Her life force ebbing, Dracula’s prey

By whip she’s driven, giving her all
By cock she’s riven, nine inches tall
Stretching and letching, having a ball
His youth returning, his death to stall

The butler whipping, her bottom burns
Her nipples sticking, freedom she yearns
Pain/pleasures mounting, her main concerns
Orgasms threaten, her tummy churns

Dracula draining, regaining youth
His organ tapping, his sharpened tooth
Her passion peaking, the awful truth
Bucking and fucking, prisoner Ruth

By morning its over, a maiden no more
Her spirit broken, left without core
Her Master’s power, fully restore
Life force depleted, a welted whore

Sold to a slaver, smuggled abroad
His brothels staffing, riding rough shod
His coffers filling, the dirty sod
His pact unholy, a man of God