Free Girls!
Free Girls! |
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The Black Fox
A Poem of Zhor
By Tamarack
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Eames stocked the Black Fox on the cheap,
By playing the rogue and seducer.
When he spied a Ruk girl who was glum,
He'd come on strong, hoping to juice her.
A marvelous record he had
Of making ex-males doff their clothes,
By cooing sweetly in their ears
And listening to stale tales of woes.
Their libedos made them red hot,
Those new to this serum girl thing.
He read each of them like a book,
Oozing charm till their affair took wing.
Sir Eames got them playing slave games,
However much slav'ry they dreaded.
He soon had them wearing slut face.
The hardest case he quickly bedded.
The Black Fox tavern Sir Eames owned;
The girls serving there were all beauties.
His mistresses envied their silk,
And how they moved when at their duties.
Eames let not a chance slip away
When a girl got as hot as coal fire.
He knew when a wench felt slave need;
It showed in her eyes of desire.
Then the rogue gave her no time to think,
Driving fast to a registrar's door.
When a girl put her wishes in ink,
She left with a brand very sore.
Once a wench was enslaved under law,
Eames found other fishes to fry.
Lash slaves put the new phyce
to work;
She learned she could not be cockshy.
When raw mistresses Eames would bring in,
The anger would rage in her so.
But she'd smile at the secret she knew;
The Fox soon would have a fresh ho.
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