by Peter Loaf
Highland tour hiking, trespassing dame
I hide in waiting, favorite game
Game Keeper duties
Poachers and cuties
Gadgets from London, keeping them tame
Sleeper hold grabbing, out like a light
Metal cuffs clicking, locking it tight
Dental vice propping
Her spirit Topping
Senses recover, struggle and fight
Chain between ankles, awkward to walk
Her hands are useless, can’t even talk
The switch for driving
Her desperate striving
Hobbled and helpless, up on the chalk
Manor house standing, top of the hill
Sundress in ribbons, implacable will
The Master has needs
His fantasy breeds
Trespassers taken, his needs fulfill
Helpless in metal, stumble and fall
His switch is biting, for mercy call
New Master running
For poacher gunning
Stopping and grinning, belle of the ball
Standing inspection, she tries to beg
Whippy switch stinging, her welted leg
The Master Masters
Her fate’s forecaster
Talent and figure, our little Meg
Time in the cellar, no hint of sky
Her buckets changing, her rights deny
Game Keeper duties
Feeding the cuties
Dental vice propping, feed bag apply
Helpless in metal, force feeding mess
Then a quick hosing, caring for guests
A quick little fucking
Kicking and bucking
her slaver training, she’s headed West
Dude ranch exclusive, mountains surround
New slaves in coffle, sexy impound
The cowboys urban
Their masks disturbin’
Helplessly serving, gather around
Master and Keeper, slipping away
Trespasser renting, a six week stay
The slave trade booming
Our freedom dooming
Ruling class bastards, like birds of prey
