by Peter Loaf
inspired by the art of Thorn
- do not use without the author's permission.
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My spirit breaking, their stated goal Limber sticks cutting, taking their toll Pony in training Painful the caning Pumping their water, selling my soul Arms up behind me, the treadmill spins Water tanks filling, their happy grins School for hard cases Off to the races Been running an hour, the bastard wins “I’ll do as I’m ordered, please let me off!” My cries of anguish, I choke and cough Limber stick cutting My captor rutting Ponies in training, are his to boff The treadmill stopping, taking the weight My tortured shoulders, product of hate The perverts ruling The public fooling Bill of rights canceled, Patriot fate Thought cops and decoys, spies in our midst The power of POWER, unhooking wrists Limp and so broken A final token A whistled warning, my bottom kissed Taken to stable, feet dragging limp The matron follows, playing the pimp Old bastard sporting Trousers reporting Tented and straining, big as a blimp Hands and throat clamping, a set of stocks Face down I’m laying, head in a box Welted and hurting Pussy juice spurting Pony in training, my world it rocks Courtyard tomorrow, practice my form Working in tandem, roommate from dorm Belted and fitted Welted and bitted High stepping ponies, weather the storm My future looking, ever so bleak Pony girl training, its been a week Two weeks remaining Pussy juice staining Pony girl auction, sold to some shiek |
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