Secret Police
by Peter Loaf

The door exploding, storm-trooper’s boot
The gunmen crashing, looking for loot
Papers demanded
Lefties remanded
To station taken, civil rights moot

Big titted pretty, shorts and a tank
Hung from her shackles, it’s dark and dank
Shivering terror
There’s been an error
Government agent, the highest rank

She couldn’t tell them, her cover blown
The moment passing, holding the phone
Of cock shaped rubber
Frustrations blubber
Gag garbled choking, sins to atone

Garbled protesting, two goons approach
One with a sparker, look of reproach
Limber whip cracking
Bottom attacking
The other behind, driving the Coach

Button unbuttoned, zipper pulled down
Her shorts are falling, down to the ground
Secret policeman
Trying to tell him
She is on the job, gag garbled sound

Her tank top lifted, her nipples seized
Her shackles draping, just as he please
Her panties yanking
Given a spanking
Ropes on her ankles, spreading her knees

His finger gentle, tickling touch
Fingernail pinching, her fingers clutch
The sparker sparking
The dildo parking
Gag garbled screaming, ‘twas ever such

When she’s well broken, the gag comes out
With ring replacing, desperate shout
She’s sat on the stool
She’s losing her cool
Naked and helpless, pheromones fount

The Secret police, terror complete
Confessions coerced, the left’s defeat
The clock resetting
Dark ages getting
Sentenced to gallows, a piece of meat

Secret Police