Posted Nov. 9, 2020
Lulu, having sex every day,
Was learning the arts of love play.
This slave-maid instruction
Trained girls for seduction
In line with the Zhorian way.
While getting brolled Lu oft drew pleasure,
Too much for the love scale to measure.
With Lu in silks tiny,
Wearing beads bright and shiny,
Men fondled her just like a treasure.
But inside of Lu there burned a smolder;
Her dislike of Tip growing much colder.
She was feeling the thrust
Of hedonist lust
'Cause she had to do all that he told her.
As Lou she'd had women in bed,
A damned randy rake, people said.
But in need Lu excelled him;
It would have repelled him.
The disgrace of it made her see red.
She’d learned there were forest girl bands
That that roamed the remote, wooded lands.
They’d all run aground
To safe corners they’d found,
To live free from collars and brands.
Could this be a thing she could do?
This prospect Lu had to think through.
Though she liked being laid,
She despised the drug vaid
That made her a tame, docile ewe.
With Lu, though, the hour was late
For rendezvous with the god Fate.
Though Tip didn’t tell her,
He was ready to sell her.
She almost was in the right state.
He cunningly gave her more vaid,
Then pumped her on sheets of brocade.
With manly lust blazing,
His brol was amazing.
Lu’s bod was a harp that he played.
Lu never had heard of "slave fire,"
Or why its effects could be dire.
As Tip deigned to do her
A hot surge rushed through her.
She’d never had sex like this prior.
To Be Continued in Part 17
