For some it’s a teddy, a Hotwheel, a dumptruck,
But not Doug, instead he gave lashings and then ******.

I knew not to holler lest Doug lose his focus,
Grasping my collar, he shrieked, “Hocus pocus!”

After Doug’s very first drink he’d soon have a *******,
Then that sinister wink, I knew I was far gone.

Exhausted from ****** my nubile ***, on the couch Doug laid
And then out he passed. I was no longer afraid.

The weekend ere last, after ******* Doug’s ****,
He’d showed me his bolt cutters cut through a lock.

How many times had I undressed ol’ Doug?
His **** were like limes, his chest like a rug.

Sleeping upright, legs invitingly spread,
Soul black as the night, I began to see red.

O, but the sound! Like scissors through steak,
Doug writhed all around, eyes seeming to quake.

After rising, I followed the crimson trail,
As if suddenly hollowed, gravity prevailed.

Wrists sore as my ***, mouth tasting metallic,
Bound like a lass, their faces utterly pallid.

Waddling down the hall, I was greeted with whistles,
“Give me a call!” Words coarser than bristles.

From the infirmary I write, and prone I must lay,
For Jerome likes ‘em white, as do Randy and Ray.