by Peter Loaf
Hung up and naked, the reason’s why
Trousseau displaying, the clear blue sky
There’s no escaping, I’m gonna die
Butt first a fucking, enemy spy
Hung up to bugger, impact of lash
Helpless convulsions, quarter yard dash
Prime cutlet packaged, my systems crash
Pussy lips dripping, the cracker’s splash
Fingers come wiggle, probing “g” spot
Hand bound and hobbled, I’m gaping hot
Boobie squeeze pinching, my running snot
The lash comes snapping, my quiver shot
Dancing demented, ass in the air
Beauty in motion, my swinging pair
Thunder fuck entry, gripping my hair
Rapist robustus, under his care
A second soldier, cock in his hand
A ring of steel, a leather band
Pried wide and buckled, sodomy planned
Helplessly screaming, hopeless demand
The squadron gathers, watching the show
The troopers hooting, the naked ho
Hung up and helpless, cannot say no
Fifty-three horsemen, the fires below
The trumpets sounding, the brassy blare
My passion rising, gasping for air
Thunder fuck wilting, ready to share
The next man bigger, his broody mare
Rode at a gallop, using the whip
Orgasm crashing, losing my grip
Passion bright bursting, letting it rip
The circle watching, starting to strip
The cannon’s thunder, enemies die
The bullets zipping, trying to fly
The troopers slaughtered, around the spy
Mission accomplished, come and untie
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