by Peter Loaf
Her Royal Highness, dragged to the post
Deal with the devil, the Dragon-pact
Her body trembles, the misty cold
The Virgin Drawing, held in the Church
A distant trumpet, the signal horn
The mist He’s parting, His burning breath
Serpent tongue flicking, between her legs
Pony proud Johnson, dripping His lust
Her garments parting, the sudden yank
Her hymen saving, strict chaperone
His penis probing, her pussy drips
Mind blanking passion, humping her cunt
After it’s over, Dragon returned
(The author winks . . . And blushes) .
Locked in the collar, a living ghost
Tribute demanded
Virgin remanded
King’s youngest daughter, the Dragon to host
The yearly tribute, city un-sacked
Her life forsaken
Sacrifice taken
The power of power, the deck is stacked
Her arms behind her, the ropes enfold
The collar clamping
Her shoulders cramping
Her father weeping, the story old
The maids collected, the yearly search
Credentials checking
The Priests inspecting
Dressed blessed deserted, left in the lurch
Calling the Dragon, the talon torn
The flapping leather
The foggy weather
Evil incarnate, sacrifice borne
The Worm He circles, praying for death
The downdraft chilling
Virgin unwilling
Mind blanking terror, our Princess Beth
The princess screaming, her Goddess begs
The magic moment
Dragon transforment
Studly young human, with bursting eggs
Struggles redoubled, the chain to bust
His touch is gentle
So elemental
The collar opened, gaining her trust
Her nipples tighten, her juices rank
Serpent tongue tasting
Her turkey basting
Her bottom lifting, His long red crank
Her hymen needed, marriage postpone
The priests have promised
And drugs that calm us
Satan impotent, left here alone
His tip is pressing, coming to grips
Subbie surviving
His phallus driving
Hymen rip filling, stretching her lips
Her nipples mashin’, bearing the brunt
Change in her screaming
Just like her dreaming
Pain passion pleasure, into the hunt
New mate he’s taking, reward she earned
The Dragon saddled
Consort unaddled
His castle taking, Her city burned
