The Human Instrument Part 1

Some say the mind is an instrument-      
The body, merely an implement.      
       
Some believe in meditation,      
Some only need fornication.      
       
I prefer combining the four,      
By mutilating abhorrent whores.      
       
A quick kill doesn't satisfy,      
So I attempt to gratify...   
       
You wake up strapped to a leathery device,      
It's soft and alive, much to your surpise.      
       
You can't see what keeps you tightly bound,        
But you feel it pulsing, and hear it's sounds-      
       
Something like spaghetti slapping ground,      
You feel its pumping, lumping mounds.      
       
Then I stitch your lips, thread by thread,      
Next I slip cold metal discs on your head,      
       
Your vision blurs as the machine whirrs,      
Unlike anything you've ever heard.      
       
Everything goes black right before your eyes,      
You feel a wetness creep up your thighs-      
       
Wormlike, but thicker, you start growing sicker      
As it stretches your womb and you hear me snicker.      
       
It rips it's way in, your groin starts to burn,      
Once it is buried, you get overturned.      
       
Then you feel me, entering your anus,      
Tearing and flaring, fitfully heinous.      
       
The creature inside you writhes and wrenches,      
Bleeding profusely, can't tell what the stench is,      
       
All you know now is this pain and fear.      
I remove the discs, and bring you a mirror.      
       
The image is worse than you could imagine-      
You've become art, in cadaverous fashion.      
       
You're fastened to what appears to be,      
Some human-esque-Squirming meat.      
       
Wrapped up in it's sinewy arms,  
My monster feels disgustingly warm.  
 
The creature sits tall as two men,      
It's penis expands as it girates again.      
       
You feel us inside you in blistering pain,      
You look at the mirror as you go insane:      
       
It's hairless, yet veiny, and glistening sweat,      
       
It's mounds of meat haven't stopped growing yet.      
       
It thrusts and quakes in a quivering spasm,      
You feel it a release a thick, hot orgasm.      
       
The semen feels meaty, but something else too..      
       
Can you  ACTUALLY feel as it frantically moves?      
       
Slithering, quivering, inside of you,      
The semen it plants expands in your womb.      
       
The penis suddenly slides out of you,      
You're released from your hold, and thrown from the room.      
       
You frantically follow the road up ahead,        
Ignorning the pain in your stomach and head.      
       
An hour or so has gone by but now,      
Both legs are shaking, cold blood running down.      
       
You see headlights coming from up ahead,      
The driver slows down, but much to your dread,      
       
It's three fit young men, Smiling in ways      
That make your stomach curdle and ache.      
       
Two hop out and take hold of you      
Before you hardly have time to move.        
       
They hoist you in the bed of their truck,        
Then force you into a clusterfuck,      
       
But as one enters your battered behind,      
He lets out a shriek of a sickening kind.        
       
From his testicles hang a clamped pair of teeth,      
Then they briskly detach from underneath.      
       
The jaws reach out and seize his leg,      
Then from your womb you see it drag:      
       
Like a meat snake, the size of a python,      
You feel slick heat on the thigh it slides on.      
       
You start to pass out as you see it attack,      
Swallow one man, then everything's black.      
       
You wake up in white, on a hospital bed,      
A fuzzy-numb feeling filling your head.      
       
You're greeted by two doctors, but quite soon,      
You notice something is askew in the room-      
       
There's testing tubes, and strange meat samples,      
The doctor's looks leave you in shambles.      
       
You realize now that you're strapped to your bed,      
You scream loud enough to wake up the dead.      
       
The doctors inject you with an anesthesia,      
Mixed with something to give you amnesia.      
       
Nightmares harrass your brutalized mind,      
But then you awake, unaware of that night.      
       
As you recount all your dreams of fright,      
You can't shake the feeling that something's not right...