Master At Arms
by Peter Loaf

The cruise ship steaming, the pampered guests
Bilges exploring, my nightly quests
For stowaways looking
The smell of cooking?
Someone is hiding, the steamer chests

Her hidden cabin, among the crates
Innocent virgin, meeting her fates
Catching her eating
Primus stove heating
Stocking mask wearing, like all my “dates”

I overpower, quickly restrained
Ring gag and plug pear, by straps detained
Her clothing shredding
Tossed on her bedding
Standing up over, the rules explained

Dropping my trousers, rising in pride
Hogtied and helpless, nothing denied
Gag garbled pleading
“Justice” I’m meting
Thrusting and busting, so deep inside

Leaving her bleeding, I go for my bag
Hogtied and hidden, limp as a rag
My toys of passion
In Bristol fashion
Unbroken spirit, my meaty swag

Changing her rigging, bend and present
Hand on her bottom, sniffing her scent
Three holes no waiting
My kind of dating
Pony cock throbbing, nothing prevent

Fucking her slowly, each rib and vein
My need controlling, tough to explain
My passion attacks
My captive reacts
Bent and presented, she will remain

Wiggle kick struggle, there’s no escape
My pecker poking, my gentle rape
Her fires stoking
My pecker stroking
Her anus spearing, pussy agape

Knotted thongs slashing, free swinging tits
Cock in her colon, shuddering fits
Gagging and gasping
Her fingers grasping
Stowaway learning, it never quits

Her passage working, Captain and crew
Hoodwinked and helpless, gag ball to chew
Deeply perverted
Virgin converted
Pampered guests visit, bring something new

To service broken, sold on the dock
In lorry loaded, vibrating cock
A casket holding
Her life unfolding
My profits counting, my rising stock

Master At Arms