he stirs from the love bed and tiptoes downstairs,
Avoiding dead wrappings and prickles of holly
He reaches the front door where falling snow greets him
A frostier welcome awaits him at home
No comforting cuddle to thaw out his bones
and the money will see them through Winter if sold
The butt plug she takes as a gift that will serve
So there's no lasting harm caused by Tom's misadventure
He soon gets a job and makes up to his son.
and none of the men who entrapped him that night
saw enough of his face to describe him quite right.
|Mitchell HG40 - Strange Justice*|
of naked encounters with uniformed men,
being forced to submit to their punishing stings
and locked in dark places for days without end.
And slowly developed a terrible thirst
To find out the end - had he not escaped first
To give up his body and suffer the shame
of being demeaned in that devilish game.
And so one year later as Christmas drew near
He found himself back at that mansion of fear
Looking for signs that the time might be right
To enter and relive that harrowing night.
The Spirits of Christmas had warned him to cease
But a spring coiled inside him demanded release
A lid pressing down on him blocked out the light
Even Jack in the Box must sometimes take flight.
*this image was previously published as part of my 'Neighbourhood Police" story.