“Hey, Venus,
show mean lust!”

Venus knows the drill
’cause she’s the girl who gives a thrill and chill,
a girl who knows that whips can have great charms
for churls who like harm to ensue.
Venus takes great care
to wear her furs made of pure ermine hair.
She’ll hang you up from the ceiling so high
and then apply the ’ nine ’ Blighthely. [sic]

Venus, odd is the love that you spark
in surliness you bask,
clad in a serpent mask.

Venus makes you “rue,”
a ruse, ’cause you love what she does to you.
She’ll give you all her love in terms of whips
till from both of you sweat drips.

Venus, odd is the love that you spark
as you pursue the task—
your clients need not ask.

Venus’ blacks and blues
upon you are the predominant hues.
She’ll give you all her love in terms of whips,
in black thong, unfettered nips.

“Flay, Venus,
mo’, Venus,
make your whips contuse!”