THREE BOUND BOIS - A NURSERY RHYME

(To the tune of Three Blind Mice - It helps if you sing along to this in your head. Keeps the rhythm)

Three bound bois. Three bound bois.
If they could run. If they could run.
They all lie naked their butts in the air,
Hard whipped and tied tight in their master’s lair,
Did you ever see such a sight so fair,
As three bound bois?

Three bound bois. Three bound bois.
If they could run. If they could run.
Friends of Master along for the fun,
Cutting cards to see which of the buns,
Each first would ravage, so very fecund,
Those three bound bois.

Three bound bois. Three bound bois.
If they could run. If they could run.
Men stand above them so hard their cocks,
Deciding whose tail they would like to dock,
They rough spread boi holes, they’re as tight as locks,
Those three bound bois.

Three bound bois. Three bound bois.
If they could run. If they could run.
Men hard up them, could not do a thing,
Why couldn’t the men at least use a sling?
Pain and pleasure from the open rings,
Of three bound bois.

Three bound bois. Three bound bois.
If they could run. If they could run.
The men fucked hard without mercy,
The bois would take it, be used for free,
To slake mens’ lusts, just how it should be,
For three bound bois.

Three bound bois. Three bound bois.
If they could run. If they could run.
The men hand off, try a different hole,
Their meat all turgid, with blood all swole,
Rammed hard up bois’ roses, if truth be told,
All three bound bois.

Three bound bois. Three bound bois.
If they could run. If they could run.
Their cries and whimpers the men ignore,
Getting men's rocks off is what they are for,
The men cum together, an almighty roar,
Up three bound bois.

Three bound bois. Three bound bois.
If they could run. If they could run.
How to say thank you to bois so hot?
“You three suck us down, yes, you clean our cocks,"
The bois half choked, “so great” the bois thought,
All three bound bois.

Three bound bois. Three bound bois.
If they could run. If they could run.
Master untied them, they stood and stretched,
Their dicks all hard, it is such a letch,
Master wondered "how much will they fetch?"
Those three bound bois.

Three bound bois. Three bound bois.
Why would they run? Why would they run?
Master treats them as they want to be,
Bound and fucked, never to be free,
To service men, to take their hot seed,
Those three bound bois.

Chuck Dickson (aka the Porn Poet)