The Iron Maiden

He prefers the innocence
A young girl untouched by heathen hands
Her maidenhead inviolate
To be breached by him alone
He finds a virgin in the field
Her chanson free and clear
Her form graceful in the sun
He offers her some ducats
And leads her astray
All the way to his chamber bed
For her defloration and his ecstasy
 
As expected she proves unwilling, tight
Her hymen resistant to his thrusts
But by the gods he will prevail
He manages to penetrate
Exulting in her cries
He feels himself her master
And she the lambkin in his thrall
 
But the withdrawal proves taxing
His member trapped within her walls
He wails for mercy and release
But she throws back her head and sings
Of fallen royalty
Of conquest defied
And the triumph of beauty, blameless and serene.