by Peter Loaf
"Daughter of power, President’s kid
Taken in battle, what am I bid?
Virgin and choosey
Downy soft juicy
Chained cuffed and collared, with nothing hid”
“I hear three ounces, do I hear four?
Now it is seven, man by the door
Ten ounces of gold?
I’m banging it sold?
A slave girl selling, your private whore”
“Think of her breaking, under training
The power to Master, chains detaining
A night in her chamber
Trying to tame her
Night in her pussy, the sheets staining”
“I thank you Madam, do I hear twelve?
Now it is twenty, deep pockets delve
Forty’s the bidding
Think what you’re getting
President’s daughter, the tales you’ll tell”
A Flash-bang grenade, deafened and blind
A Squad of Marines, the girl to find
First daughter shaken
Caught with a wide on, the horny kind
Wrapping a blanket, keeping straight face
Pheromones stinking, can almost taste
Bolt cutters busy
Head in a tizzy
Slave magic working, her pride erased
Corpsman attending, his boner growing
She smells so sexy, they’re all knowing
Back of a hummer
Fifty Cal. Drummer
The rockets flashing, they’re home going
Missy returning, sneaking her in
Her big adventure, her dreams begin
Why was she stinking?
A time for thinking
The corpsman dating, her subbie sin