|
BennyR -> A Poem (1/12/2005 9:40:06 AM)
|
When the angry furropws gathering in her Masters face she sees
When he leads her to the bedroom and then lays her 'cross his knees
Then she knows that she shall catch it and her flesh, in fancy, itches
As he holds her firmly 'bout the waist and then yanks down her breeches.
Every smacking of the paddle has a burning and a sting
As if a thousand angry hornets into active being spring
Every slapping of the hairbrush has a fury and a form
As she feels the searing pain move through her backside oh so warm.
And then comes in her Mistress, whom she supposed had gone,
To survey the situation and tell Master "Lay it on!"
He pauses at the interuption, which appears the only chance,
She cries "strike softly Master or you'll tear my underpants."
He thinks on this a moment as the razor strop holds aloft,
Then he says "I had not thought of that....young lady take them off!"
Holy Moses and the angels cast some pittying glances down.
And dearest sister subbie put a soft warm poultice on.
Now may she with fools and dunces everlastingly reside,
If she ever utters another word when Master tans her hide.
|
|
|
|
