by Peter Loaf

Wet-dreaming virgin, confessing sin
Secret desire, hidden within
Priestly officious
His hidden viscous
Taken by bailiffs, stripped to the skin

The scarlet letter, God fearing priest
His mission holy, beating the beast
Whipping the devil
An all night revel
Of witchcraft accused, midsummer feast

Naked and comely, dragged into sight
Hands bound before me, I cannot fight
My elbows binding
His fingers finding
My pussy creaming, virgin and tight

“The whore of Satan”, speaking to crowd
His trousers tented, his member proud
The glaring faces
My heart it races
Reforming sinners, all things allowed

“Her crimes too many, her conduct vile”
“The witch accused, we have a file”
Naked and kneeling
There’s no appealing
His fervor holy, oh what a pile

The rod of penance, slices my thigh
Silent survival, don’t want to die
A second slashing
Pussy juice splashing
Writhing and kicking, high as the sky

The pain of penance, my back aflame
My bottom burning, gonna be lame
His arm is tired
His cock inspired
Bent and presented, sinner to shame

My virgin pussy, his bloody cock
Hard hot and meaty, a pulsing rock
Gripping his member
Night I’ll remember
Thrusting and busting, used by his flock

The dawn approaching, light in the east
Midsummer revels, beating the beast
A bitch depicted
A witch convicted
Bound in position, midsummer’s feast

Pussy lips gaping, dripping with cum
Tiger stripes wearing, and here he come
The crowd is parting
Bottom cheeks smarting
Greasy his fingers, thrust in my bum

Naked and helpless, bound to the tree
Spearing my anus, frightened I pee
My bottom burning
My inner yearning
“Fuck me my Master”, my whispered plea

Dancing on tiptoe, the rising sun
Bound in position, cock in my bum
My final mating
The stake awaiting
Tried and convicted, with devils run