by Peter Loaf
The endless desert, the burning sun
My city conquered, the bastard won
The captured princess
Was forced to confess
Walking to Mecca, journey begun
My father the King, head on a pike
The city burning, taking a hike
The hard rocky trail
The bastard’s pet tail
Nights in his cushions, no chance to strike
The bastard laughing, up on his steed
My body naked, My arms are treed
A gag stick blocking
Limber whip shocking
Hobble chain stumble, shelter I need
The cross bar holding, ready for rape
Naked clean shaven, here’s no escape
My body burning
My stomach churning
The dawn is coming, pray for a drape
The vultures circle, the bodies strewn
The smoke is rising, My kingdom’s doom
Queen of the ashes
Popping whip slashes
A drape he’s dropping, My private room
Arm bar supporting, a walking tent
Desert wind blowing, from heaven sent
Shady half acre
“To Mecca take her!”
Sunset disrobing, purposes bent
My bondage holding, body displayed
My pussy swollen, secrets betrayed
His troopers gather
Princess in lather
Hot wet and ready, slave girl arrayed
To cushions leading, closing the tent
A collar locking, further prevent
Lowered to cushion
His hard cock pushin’
My anus spearing, his games invent
Gasping and screaming, feet under chin
His hard cock reaming, so deep within
Pussy juice spurting
It’s not even hurting
Hard bound and helpless, girl without sin
Then in the morning, back on the trail
My royal future, serving the male
Slave market city
Men without pity
The sun is climbing, My tender tail
The bastard laughing, holding sun shield
The army watching, their eyes are pealed
My body’s display
My subbie betray
My future settled, My fate is sealed
