Her Beast My Burden Poem by James McLain

Like the dog being tied to it,
inside my baby-sitter, I was stacked.
Returning to her the full basket,
wherein is her methods.
My nose through her panties.
My tail wags, 'her others and things.
Fear so hot it should always,
never their grasp me,
but feeling the smooth milking her silk
next door to my skin, how it calmed
and restrained me.
As for me/you knew that
necessarily, how i cannot spread
and knotted up in my baby sitter
never caused more damage too me.
Boys are just different, I stressed.