I could tell my master was angry at me

The thrust of his hips

The pounding making that familiar noise

The smell reminds me of how many potions we've done

69 a magical number that works wonders

The way my legs reached up had me screaming "yes father!!!!"

I couldn't help but scream

And when he bit my neck it was pleasure and pain

My lungs gasp for air

As his thrust begins so hard to bare

I couldn't shake this feeling someone was there

I turned to see my second master's stare