Miss Riker visits the sleepologist

Friday, 02 October, Year 12 d.Tr. | Author: Mircea Popescu

"Hello. Miss... Riker, is it ?"
"Yes sir, that's me."
"Is says here you're fourteen, is that correct ?"
"Yes sir."
"You seem very well developed, for fourteen."
"Yes sir. Thank you sir. Everyone tells me so, sir."
"Are you getting well fucked ?"
"Quite well, sir. There's three different boys at school."
"And at home ?"
"Two... two neighbours, sir."
"That's not quite all, is it ?"
"No, sir."
"You're really quite the little tart."
"Yes sir. Thank you, sir."
"When did you start ?"
"It was... it was with my mother, sir."
"Go on."
"You see, sir... three years ago, there was a break-in. In our home. There were three men, and... I don't think they were really there to steal."
"More of a rape-in ?"
"I think so. They had tools sir, retractors for my mom, and... all sorts, sir."
"How did it play out ?"
"Well sir, it was just us, my brother and my mother. They said my mother is too tight down there, you know, to fuck her. I mean they tried at first, but it really did not fit so well. So they put an extending retractor in..."
"You know what that is ?"
"Yes, I've had it in myself, last year."
"At home, you mean ? Or in a health&well-being-providing setting ?"
"Both, sir. They started me in a ho-tel, but then they said it's best if they get some professional grade tools, and do it right, open me proper wide rather than have it heal half way. They said I'm worth the trouble, that I have great potential. But then at the cuntery they said it's best if I wear it at home, put it in when I go to sleep each night, for six weeks."
"Could you actually sleep ?!"
"Eventually, but not really at first."
"Let's get back to your first time."
"Yes, sir. While my mother had it in they had some time to kill, so one of them fucked her throat. It was, I remember, the prettiest thing to watch, how his member blew Mom's throat all out of shape. It was something else, that's the first time I understood what sex is for and all about."
"Precocious of you."
"Thank you, sir. They also fucked my brother, you know, and made him lick her throat while fucking her, I mean it... you know what I mean."
"They couldn't be bothered with me at all, I mean... I was really eager to participate, you can imagine. But... well, you know how it is, they sniggered mostly and looked over my head. But I would have none of it, I kept begging and begging, and kept going for their cocks and balls, to suck on them I mean."
"What did they do ?"
"They tied me up against a pole, all tight. To be out of the way, they said. But I begged and begged and cried and eventually I think they had enough of it, because they let me loose and told me to sit on my mother's face while they fuck her, if I want to be a good girl, and not let her breathe."
"Is that how you ended up in the Orphans' Home ?"
"Yes, sir."
"Alright, well... let's take a look at you then, shall we."
"What is it ?"
"Would you fuck me, sir ?"
"My dear girl. An examination is not that. I have to see..."
"Yes sir, I understand. But first, I mean. To open up my twat."
"I really feel quite awkward, and I don't want..."
"I see."
"What would they say, if word were to get out ? Me, naked with a man, and... just like that ? I must be fucked! Hard!"
"Alright, alright. Take off your clothes and then take the bundle out, see Mrs. Jenkins. She'll make you sign for that."
"Is... is Mrs. Jenkins in the other room ?"
"Oh, no, no, none of that. Across the way, you go outdoors just like a good lil' slut, cross on the crosswalk, then third door down. You ring the bell, and frankly speaking be prepared to yell your business. Mrs. Jenkins is a little deaf."
"Oh! So I will have to scream, where the whole street can hear, and see my all as well, bare, plainly exposed in the plainest of views, for each and any passer-by ?"
"That is the play."
"What should I yell ?"
"That you're a teenaged whore getting your cunt checked up and begging for a fuck. The usual fare."
"I'll be right back."
"If there's volunteers on the way don't take them on your back, it'll get your gibbets out of whack."
"Should I ride their cock ?"
"Nah, just bend over and take it like a bitch in heat."

Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte
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2 Responses

  1. Why are they talking in broken poetry?? It sounds terrible to read especially at the end

  2. Mircea Popescu`s avatar
    Mircea Popescu 
    Friday, 2 October 2020

    Let me tell you a story. Some years ago, some place somewhere, the people decided to build out of animal dung admixed with straw, instead of the much more demanding brick-and-mortar racist technology of forgotten olden days. It wasn't really answering properly the pressing questions of how the walls relate to them, anyways, and so as the years went by what started as laughable idiocy became tolerated excentricity and then the rule. After which point a poet or a writer or playwright or whatever in the Hells he was evoked a corner of familiar daily life mentioning in its construction the fetid yet intrinsic scent of room, or wall, or local spawn.

    The dwellers were taken aback, contrariated and much distressed. They knew, from other books they'd read, that neither wall nor room nor princess fair are at all supposed to smell just like a horse's ass. What gives, they inquired with the literate, why do you not present us with portraiture of life true, but instead falsified with this crude scent not found in any other books ?!

    You're seriously sitting there asking me why the walls you built, for being easier to build, for being in your indolent, ignorant approach "the only practical way available" for supposed "lack of any alternative" live up olfactorily to their substance and essential nature ?!

    They rhyme randomly and stumble assonantly because they're dumb, fucked in the head, your mirror image crafted by most certain hand, precise, exact, exactly, and in all truth I hope damnable, to boot. At any point prior to now, at every cross and juncture where you favoured your "modern", romantic idiocy, where your transcendental soul was going to magically save you from the fall, where you needed not put in any work or pour your guts forth on any fields under the flags, banners, bannerets or pennants of any lords -- that's where you were supposed to ask "hm, can we eventually live with the assonant, broken rhymes this will necessarily and in due time bring forth ?!"

    Now it's too late ; so get lost.

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