Just a bit of fun, originally wanted it to be a short bit of prose.
Recently regarded as a-kind-of plastic love machine,
The blow up doll stays ridge, not used to its regime,
Bent and distorted its moved until its angled,
In a position perfect to be completely mangled.
The proprietor of such a doll was a fetish-fatal-femme,
Wearing a latex mini skirt with a strap-on at the hemme,
Vasiline intensive care was her careful choice of lube,
Applying it most precisely until it was time to move.
A motion began without the doll saying a word,
Forward came the strap-on the cock gone in a third,
If the doll could yelp then this would be the moment,
Luckily inanimate objects offer no opponent.
The object of the sexual game to neither was clear,
The doll remained silent whilst the girl stuck it in her rear,
Going at it full speed now to her own surprise,
However it was this pace that would be the doll’s demise.
A nail dug into the dolls behind the girl without a care,
A small hole developed and with it went the air,
And now the doll lay naked in a flat surprise,
From now on thought the girl, ill probably stick to guys.