She’d been wondering which would be worse…
When he rooted her, boy, did she curse!
Being ravished by force,
Bad enough, quite, of course,
Not her pussy though… quite the reverse!
Tag: rape
Unchivalrous
When he raped her, she tried to be brave,
But, of course, ne’er forgot, nor forgave,
(Although whom could she tell)…
And then buggered, as well!
Damn Sir Francis, the dastardly knave!
Trespass
Though the evidence wasn’t conclusive,
As far as it’s being abusive,
To fuck her did seem
(And a court would so deem),
At the very least, somewhat intrusive.
Sleep no more
As roots go, it was just mediocre.
But still, the damn practical joker,
He’d have his sly fun…
Pull her dress down when done…
Easy in…out…in… What if he woke her?
Curly one
They were equally up for it, thus
To have thrown the guy under a bus!
She’d enjoyed the fuck, right?
Didn’t put up a fight…
How on earth was it rape then? Discuss.
He doth protest too much
“To be honest, I don’t give a damn!”
Sean exclaimed. “The whole thing, twas a sham!
Twasn’t rape! Twasn’t nuttin!
That woman was mutton,
Dressed up as a tender young lamb!
A lack of propriety
Mister Beasel, the sweatshop proprietor
Cast a long, lecherous eye at her;
Pretty, deaf-mute,
She’d be lovely to root,
Like the other poor girls, only quieter!
Initiation
She was buxom, big-arsed and plump-thighed.
The poor boy! He had no place to hide!
And him, scarcely developed,
Half-smothered, enveloped,
Bestraddled, cunt-struck, hers to ride!
Means to an end
To what tricks would the man not descend?
What disgusting things might he intend?
Liquor? Drugs? Well of course!
Money? Bondage? Brute force…
Till she’s brought to a sad, sticky end?
Virtue and necessity
Poor young wench, captive, raped, god-forsaken,
Home burned by barbarians, taken
Away on their ship,
(Her first overseas trip),
Unaccountably awed, though quite shaken.