The Welting
by Peter Loaf

Training school basement, double locked door
Truant and doper, unreformed whore
Strapped to the flogger, wet to the core
Bottoms up ready, soon to be sore

Caught in the bushes, crack pipe in hand
Taken for judgment, special remand
Stripped strapped and buckled, bent over stand
Barkerís cane whistles, punishment planned

Gagged tight and pleading, hand on my rump
Tickle touch twiddle, broken to stump
Whistle bite impact, nowhere to jump
Tiger striped bottom, starting to hump

Fighting and fussing, straining at straps
Caning continues, light little taps
Screaming for mercy, my passion traps
A leather paddle, whole bottom slaps

My bottom burning, my subbie space
His fingers tickle, my dripping place
Vibrating fingers, setting the pace
Pussy lips swollen, end of the chase

Standing behind me, cock in his fist
Bent and presented, held in a twist
Thunder-fuck thrusting, a rising mist
Pussy grip milking, semen harvest

Switching to anus, grease covered dong
Virgin hole gripping, so deep and long
Gag muffled screaming, singing my song
Clitty clip dripping, to him belong

Welted rump riding, ready to bust
Bent and presented, dripping my must
Thunder-fuck filling, cracking my crust
Training school lessons, pain pleasure lust

Then when itís over, back in my bed
Welted rump hurting, it goes unsaid
Training school lessons, welted and red
Fantasies filling, fantasies fed

The Welting