Cloud Nine

   The angels wings were tattered and torn.
Her long blonde locks,
         sadly shorn.
  Bound in chains of rusty steel,
her torment was terrible:
                   real!
  The Crimson King, on his throne of bone
listened in lust to the
            angel moan.
  While hot impettes pinched and poked,
and his she-devils
   softly stroked.
  Angelic virtue was fading fast
as o after o came
      and passed.
  While imps nearby giggled and laughed
and pain turned to pleasure,
              at long last!
  That angel whore cried more more more,
as ambrosia gushed,
 out on the floor.
  Beelzebub then did rise,
walked on over, and
parted her thighs.
  Placed his pole, in her holy hole.
screamed "ANOTHER FROM YOU
                 I STOLE.
  POO on you, now shes mine.
Another member of
Hells Cloud Nine".