Queen and Slave

It was the siren trumpet blast
that called me to my Queen.
Into that hall I stepped,
trembling, ready to be seen.

She was sat with regal stare,
looking down from lofty throne.
Was not for me to say
although I really should have known.

Her eyes were steely cold,
a nod or wink was her command.
And I stood helpless in this court
waiting for her great demand.

While the Great Court roared
I was forced to kneel and bow.
She rose and held her hand up high,
calling forth the question now.

“Who is he that kneels so low?”
She strode forth in regal might,
looked down upon my broken form
and deemed me quite a sight.

“Tie him to that table there!”
she thundered with a scream,
And so the servants pulled me there
so fast it seemed a dream.
And so the ropes were fast,
I waited with my shaking thighs.
She came my way and stared
and as she gazed I heard her sigh.

“Strip him bare!” she cried.
And casting off her golden cord
She opened wide her silken robe,
her finger pointing like a sword.

I writhed and struggled to escape
but ropes had now held fast.
My naked form was there to see
ready from a trumpet blast.

My Queen she stood and stared,
her breasts now poking out.
I saw her smile and point
And then there was a shout.

“My slave! My slave!” I heard
And then I knew full well
My time had come at last
For there she cast a spell.

With one swift move she
Forced herself upon my girth,
Her brazen thighs gripped so tight –
Bore down as if in birth.

The Court rose up to clap,
so urged their Queen some more.
And so she rode me hard,
full on so I had touched her core.

Her eyes were lost in lust
while they all stood and stared,
waiting for her new command -
the call to be prepared!

And as for me I spurted well -
my duty for my Queen.
She came each day and had me there -
A slave is what I’ve been.