Fireside

“Come sit down, warm yourself by the fire…
I don’t bite,” he said, the damn liar,
His hand on her thigh,
As she started to cry,
As his fingers crept higher and higher.

Tin god

Self styled guru, his own weird sect…
After dinner he’d smugly select
A young girl, maybe two,
To lay hands on and screw…
When you’re god, they can hardly object!

Beyond bad

Scrunched up bra, tattered panties, one stocking…
“Dumb slut!” he said, tone cold and mocking…
She hadn’t said no…
What he did to her, though,
Was beyond bad… in fact rather shocking!

Misplaced gratitude

“Get your clothes on and go, bitch,” he muttered…
His loins and her own still abutted…
The bastard withdrew…
“Th-th-thanks for the screw…
It was l-l-l-lovely”, she stuttered.