The Devil Next Door

No peace with her ecstasy
A crescendo in the dead of night
All seeming satisfaction
But she still opens wide and ululates for more

Every single new device
The nipple clamps, vibrating toys
Leather whips and manacles
All geared for pleasure, strapped for pain

She still demands some sacrifice
A stud hung by his own petard
Cocksmen hunted down for sport
Brought mewling to her bedroom door

She of course remains vibrant
A queen reigning hard on Deacon Street
She's the scourge who lives next door
Watch her writhe, and hear her roar.