What A Nice Story

Samantha made a living

In ways I’m sure you’ll guess

No amount of threats or lies

Could convince her to confess

The sordid truths and dark desires

Her patrons would lay bare

Were safely kept deep in a vault

They knew she’d keep them there

These trusting few, these tortured souls

She found their rapture’s niche

Fiercely leading craven lust

Like a panther on a leash

Mercy came to those who cried

But, only if she chose

While others pain was her delight

With relentless, stinging blows

And then, of course

There were her pets

These meek, they liked to play

And lick up all she served to them

Like liver on a tray

Oscar liked his nipples clamped

And Fred got off on pies

And Larry loved his asshole rammed

With cocks of every size

And April, she would cum for days

If her clit was rudely tweaked

And Peter lapped up Samantha’s pee

When down her leg it leaked

Best of all she knew some twins

A motley, pervish pair

Who loved to singe their private parts

While other people stared

To suck on toes, or lick on cock

Seemed dry to her as toast

But stick a jar up some chick’s twat?

Who could want a better host?

The randier, the saucier

The more depraved the act

Would only fuel her fire for more

Sins they would transact.

As legend goes, Samantha’s “fans”

She hand-picked for herself

She loves them each like precious gems

You place upon the shelf

“I’ll shine you up.” She’d purr to one

“and you – I’ll hose you down.”

And “Hands against the wall, my pet –

don’t try to make a sound!”

Lustfully, they all complied

To each command she gave

They lapped between her thighs when asked

And never misbehaved.

“Good pets,” she’d coo and stroke their heads

“I have to take my leave”

They’d moan and groan but knew all to well

The rewards they’d soon receive

Shackles on, collars latched,

she locked them all up tight

They moaned and whined but she took off

And day turned into night

Hours crept by and her precious few

Were restless, scared and hot

And just then the door squeaked ajar

And Samantha showed them what she bought

“hello pretty ones did you miss me?”

Her voice soothed their throbbing aches

“I brought you each a brand new toy

Let’s see the mess we make!”

And so it went

As it often does

She got the best of each

She rode them hard, she rode them long

For she had so much to teach

And so ends this tale

At least for now

Of Samantha’s lusty lair

Now you know

And I’d lay odds -

That you wish you lived there!

Sweet Dreams!

The End