King Leir

Chained to the foot of his Iron throne  
her head rested on the leg of King Leir    
the Celtic God of lightning and the spear  
strike me with a mighty lightning bolt my king  
she requested and indeed he fulfilled her wish  
his hands outstretched became wrapped in light  
hurling lightening bolts like Mjölnir, she jolts violently
her body sizzles as the iron cuffs glows brightly  
her nipples beaming like Audi's R8 LED headlights  
flowing with wetness he pierced her seared moist flesh  
there is no one mightier than you my king she utters  
as she beats on his massive muscular pectorals   
the steel cuffs leaves bruises, cuts and imprints  
while he thrusts his spear like an olympians javelin
she screams with passion and secretes sweetness
 
lightning does the body good, King Leir