Have a haul-me maul-me Christmas
And get stretching of the ear.
Await blows upon your toes
And dominatrix sneer.

Have a crawling, mauling Christmas—
Oh, the tolchocking* is sweet
Such as blows upon your nose:
A punching can’t be beat.

So, toast the whipping post—
Hung on there, you’ll be
Blood-bodied, crimson hue,
Drips tickle your knee.

Have a crawling, bawling Christmas,
And get reddening of rear.
Oh, nice stomping—have a whomping, stomping
Christmas this year.

Have a scrawling, bawling Christmas
And get etched just like a steer.

Have a holly maul-me Christmas—
Those spindly sprigs can’t be beat.
From the blows, partner’s in throes
And shrieks, “This treatment’s mete!”

So, toast the whipping post—
Strung up there, you’ll feel
Your body say to you:
“Mistress, whip with zeal!”

Sadomasochistic Christmas—
She’s encased in garments shear.
So, guy’s calling for a sprawling, mauling switching—ripped rear!


*to hit, beat, strike, from the Nadsat dictionary