 |
||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
| Faery Penises by Sildenafil 07/11/2003, 6:33am PDT | ||||
 |
 |
|||
| ((Below I submit a revised rough draft in hopes to seeing it if has a place here. If not? Go fuck yourselves. *kisses palm* Lord knows I've plenty of that in my future.))
Chapter 1 Boring Ass Prelude Sidhe cock. Faery penises. I don't exactly blame them, but damn it... I suppose this one should start at the beginning. It's a good enough fucking place to begin this farcical tale. Far be it from me to levy any charges at my fellow being for whatever fetid little sex act they'd like to perform, be it the missionary position to urethral insertions. After all pornographers need to make a living. For others? I consider it the catharsis keeping the Nabokav pedophiles from hollowing my testes with a melon baller whilst I sleep. To each their own. Now to prevent any readers who've come this far from falling into a cataleptic fit I'll make with the summary. 1) We were young and stupid. (I do not deny having healthy does of these even now) 2) There was sex, lots and lots of juicy sex. 3) Somewhere I mistook co-dependency for love. 4) Did I mention the sex thing? Thus we were married. Didn't even take a paternity test to get me down in the oh so swank County Clerk's Office, what with her 80 dollar wedding band (we promised buy mine later of course) and filing assistants for witnesses. Across the hall was a blood drive and so I donated. To this day I find something symbolic about leeching the heart waters from my very veins the same day I was hitched, of that weak and vaguely hollow feeling. Cout>> -Insert- Honeymoon sex. Saddle sore and enjoying the best cuisine Top Ramen could offer we realized that out of State tuition costs were raping her for schooling and while Carl’s Jr. did indeed pay for my luxurious studio flat, with shared bathroom no less, this was not a sound plan for the independently wealthy. I voted sue a major Conglomerate for some assumed injustice, get some press, and settle out of court for a tidy sum. “Oh, my spine, The Thrustmaster2500â„¢, it broke my spine!†She would hear nothing of it. Wanted something rooted in this ‘reality’ crap she always peddled on me. When she mentioned a life in Uncle Sam’s service I did little more than shrug. I even took her to the sword swallowing recruiters. She scored a perfect on their litmus test for servile bootlicking, got the highest they could get and promised her 20 grand if she would learn a language. Be –paid- to get some schoolin’ and get what, twelve thousand dollars after Taxes did their biting of ass? After all she came from a line of people in the Service and look at their lives? Insert Irony here: Exhibit A) The Man Who Would be Drunk Father spent a good 25 years in the Navy and Air Force, which took a twenty year old lad and ended up with this shriveled husk of a man looking like a demented cross between Santa Clause and an autopsy photo. He has the nice jaundice of a long time alcoholic replete with the seizures that sprung up when he eased off Grandpa’s cough syrup. Last time we spoke he had come to the door with his pants half of, puppy shit littering his shag carpet and the confused squint of the Living Dead. He had survived two divorces; the latter to the Ex’s mum. Yet had spent the last 10 years two house down from her, which leads me to… Exhibit B) Jesus Christ Super-Car Air Force. Mother talks to Jesus. Not your prays to the cross for chewy nuggets of salvation, but bona fide rap sessions with Jesus Christos, the Jew with a ‘tude. Take that moneylenders! Later I found out the car accident which had flung her some 18 odd feet onto her HEAD had been somewhat responsible for her revelatory capabilities. She loves to tell the story. A fucking pity she could never seem to remember she had, but I can say this: Funnier every damn time I heard it. Chapter 2 Yaoi, homos and faghags oh my! Free Form Fantasy Roleplay Online. It was and is her passion. I'm not talking any of the current deluge o’ MMORPG's or another Baldur's Gate/Fallout clone. No, I'm talking about a chat room in which Java has no claws. Essentially it’s a quickly loading message board in which you type your text, click on a button marked ‘Post’ to display it and click another button marked ‘Reload’ see what that elf with the lazy eye has done in response. No dice, no stats, just the faux interactions of marionettes. Don’t grasp this? Though not and that’s why it’s…. Example time! (In the chat world the posts would come in reverse, newer cycling closer to the top, but because we don’t exist in that fucked up fantasy land I’ve decided to make it easy to read…relatively speaking) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ NEW: ReallyPrissyElf joined the chat at 03:31:56 NEW: ReallyPrissyElf 03:34:34 *With a tight ass and long blonde hair to match this sylvan watcher deigns to grace the other patrons with her presence. She has ass hugging pants of a…pant like variety and one of those peasant blouses that rock. Don’t forget the exaggerated heroine sheik and pointlessly pricked ears.* NEW: HornyHuman 03:34:34 *looks up from his drunken stupor and judging by the billfold bulging in ye olde trousers this liquor has definitely been watered down. He nods at the elf with the tight ass and ridiculously proportioned physique* Hello, ridiculous and self defeating stereotype of every pubescent male’s masturbatory fantasy. Might I buy you a drink? NEW: ReallyPrissyElf 03:34:34 *she titters a laugh behind a palm* Why not fuck me instead, silly manling? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Glossary of Crappy Colloquial OCC=Out of Character Comments, usually denoted in double parentheses Char=Character or the avatar by which one assumes LoL, LMAO, RTFLMAO=All that annoying ‘Net speak you already know and if you don’t, well then I’m surprised you’re here and not doing the Special Olympics proud. This was her world, be it writing down intricate histories for each and every one of her ‘chars’ to the design of yet another period outfit to drape them in; can’t forget the moleskin gloves. Figures that a woman would manage to accessorize even in a non-corporeal setting. Now as far as hobbies go I assumed this one was tame piece of the banal on par with the sort of deviants who still twist knobs on Ham Radios and or bother to become fluent in Esperanto. I even indulged her by crafting a few chars to look all spiff and AD&D stereotypical. The sex was raunchy, I pursued my edu’macations, she soldiered in the military and…yeah, and uhm…sex. Now I know what you’re thinking. She fell in love with one of these jackfucks? If only it were so simple my fellow sojourner. Love wasn’t felled by the ministrations of some rotund, pocket protector bearing Geek with his soulful ballads. I could handle such competition. In fact I’d have welcomed that to the truth. Sex is a cry for attention, the act of one seeking fulfillment in a cheap and physical manner. Lies on the other hand are far more intimate, requiring the willful abuse and lack of respect for the person deceived. But we all lie, neh? â€No, of course it doesn’t make your ass look big,†or “Yes, honey, size doesn’t matter at all.†Chapter 3 In which one doesn’t have to go to Sweden to get a dick What happened then, you cry? Faery cock and sidhe penis. She wanted one and so she got herself one. Now I can understand the vicarious thrill of wanting to slip free of gender-typed roles, to revel dimorphism. It even lent a depth to this rather shallow game of Regency Romance Online that I thought it sorely needed, some creative expression that wasn’t directly lifted from R.A. Salvatore and all the other fantasy hack novelists. Having a penis and not being able to use it? As any man can attest we’d fuck a homeless man’s ocular cavities for that ball tingling sensation we call ejaculation. I’m assuming that’s how it started. And she wanted other men… Yeah… â€But only with you, honey. Otherwise it’d be the equivalent of phone sex or visiting a bath-house†Cybering, for me, has always occupied that weak sauce level of masturbatory material one sinks to when all the good Porn has been confiscated by angry mothers and when you can’t even get some decent pulp with the faded pictures. It’s like jerking with a numb palm, sure one doesn’t like it, but eventually it gets the job done. So what the fuck, if it makes her happy? And she says she’ll want to do it only with me. For a woman who’s tolerated the sight of me with my shirt off it is the least I could do. I loved her and in loving believed she had my best interests at heart. To question her actions would to be showing my own insecurity. And fuck, the sex afterwards was amazing. I’d found the Viagra for her soul. I know, I know, I might as well scribed Moron across my forehead with permanent markers. Or at the least a mushroom stamp on one cheek. Lord knows I’d be seeing far more dick than I ever intended. Chapter 4 Nurturing the homosexual pedophilic rapist inside us all I tried crafting various characters for her consumption, derivative little representations of Oscar Wilde-esque archetypes. None fit. My dashing rake was met with blasé shrugs and a yawn. The whip thin dancer with the chorister curls? Nada. I flitted down body type and matching until…Tryst. Tryst had mauve hair, skin like cream, thin wires frames, an occasional stutter that hide that oh-so-yummy resolve and happened to be a mere 15-16 years in all his animé-inspired glory. You’d have thought I’d reinvented the orgasm by the avaricious glint in her eye. She liked him so much she started spinning out alternate scenarios as if he were some repertory actor to stick in a play. Tryst in Space, Tryst in a modern locale, Tryst learns to use all the vacuum attachments and finally her favorite—the one to which a thousand little short conquests have been born—Tryst in the Boarding School. I had hit paydirt. Eventually, after the many sweaty hours of post homosexual RP sex I began to take stock of the situation. My wife, all 110 pounds of her, loved to trip the light fantastique as man and consumate this new gender with other men…only not so much men as pre-teens, preferably with a shy stutter and glasses. Here’s the capper, not only did she want to wet her wick, but to take from them their anal virginity—i.e. Rape. 1) Wife who wants to be the Fabio equivalent Sidhe Prince with long blue hair, draconic wings. 2) Has a penchant for practicing sodomy on –unwilling- (though through the course of things they ‘came’ to enjoy it) pretty young bishounen boys ala NAMBLA. 3) Who fucking needs a three. Two still scares the shit out of me. I balked and backed off. Even the allure of passionate poontang slowly evaporated under this very persistent fetish, of the implications plucking at me with nebulous fingers like those old crones from Clash of the Titans. I took away her Tryst, said thanks-but-no and then, then the lies made themselves manifest. Chapter 5 Deeper down the canine A-hole â€Whatcha up to,†my question to be followed furious clicks of mouse and a moue of distaste at my intrusion. ’Just talking, just talking with some friends.’ or ’Lemme check my E-mail…for three hours solid.’ or ‘Why do you want? Just let me have some fucking alone time.’ Now while I may not have painted the deepest of relationships, the sticky glue being only that of semen, I must say I liked her. I think at one time I even believed I loved her. Lordy-lord I knows physically she was out of my league, this 5’2†little Irish girl with skin like crème and hair to her ass. We could talk. I could make her laugh and she could eke out a smile, ya know? All that sentimental and sappy shit from moonlight walks to tossing pennies together from Skyscrapers onto unto unsuspecting passerby. Triple points if you catch a pregnant mother. To make a long story short my soon to be Ex-Wife was the catamite of catamites. Without her beloved Tryst she found other partners, ones far more willing to breach the taboos she wanted to taste and she ran the gamut from Pony Play, water sports/scat games, orgies replete with BDSM and leather play, body modification, rape and even some bestiality I read (in one of the meticulous logs she kept) where she fucked a were-dog in its bestial state, all within the confines of a High Fantasy setting I think in the end, pardon the expression, it didn’t matter. Top or bottom, human, elf, sidhe…fuck the midget with the gimp leg can join—as long as it was hot, oiled and suitably homosexual then she was on that ass like white on rice. The kicker was that almost all her partners were females masquerading as males. I guess knowing what it is like to have a penis defeats the thrill of having one fed conveyor belt style into waiting asses. Yeah and before I get labeled a pink triangle toting Naziâ„¢ and ripped to teeny-tiny pieces, then those said pieces are fed to small terriers, I must say I love homosexuals! Get your gay on brothers and sisters. Without you San Francisco’s Castro District would…well…be less gay and the Village Voice would surely not resonate as clearly. Rue Paul? You go girl. You’ve even penetrated the popular cinema and done me proud. Hugo Weaving? You flit from “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert,†to Agent Smith and back to Elrond of hobbit lore in the blink of an eye. And last but not least, lesbians?! I can single handedly, sometimes both handedly, thank you for giving me many hours of diverting stimulation. You guys, and gals, r0xx0rs the b0xx0rs. In fact this all struck me as tame. Sure it had its well oiled kinks, but really…it’s god damn cybering. Chapter 5 Betrayal and KY Jelly Now how’d I’d find this out? I’ll tell you it certainly wasn’t from her ass. She lied through her teeth like a fucking use car salesman trying to get me to pony up for the ‘undercoating’. The cyber lingerie, as it were, was brought about in art form, in fact her prime partner (she’s married too), had depicted on her little artist nook at Elfwood-Fantasy-Art. And lookie, here’s a convenient link! ----------Deleted for Anonymity---------- Go, look. She’s taken down most, but Aridain? That’s one of the Ex’s chars. The bastiche she disclaimers? Yeah, that’s me. Woot! And Christ, I couldn’t find anyone who hadn’t lain with my wife online? A friend, a close confidant, who happened to be Chinese Canadian teaching English in Japan (say that five times fast) even admitted to sullying the sheets via fantasy. Afterwards she might as well gas up the dingy and take a ride with Fredo for she was dead to me. Before of course I had any concrete proof I lied. Yeah, I know…Nietzsche warned about this bullshit with the whole killing a monster and becoming a monster, yada-yada, but I was willing to fight fire with fire at this point. I was preparing for war. Me? I’d go kicking and screaming. I’d –believe- that fucking lie till it resonated in my skull like gospel, till it became graven in my flesh as a part of me. She caved like a house of cards. In short I confronted and found out she loved this form of sexual palaver more than anything else. In her own words, “It’s the only thing to give me happiness.†More power to her, but fuck me with a barbed wire condom if I will be set aside, be made second for…an activity, a leisure time game. Lord knows I would not be the first. EverQuest/crack has devoured many a set of marital vows, but this struck my vanity. I was not more valuable than the intangible act of ASS-RAPING? Say that with me again, ASS-RAPING. Not real sex, but the implied act of booty call. I never asked her to stop conjugating these oral acts with her friends, even the ones that hated me. Despite my feelings on it this is something that gives her –pleasure-. There are too few things in life I know I enjoy and half of those have been shit on by the unwashed masses. One caveat, one fucking indulgence: No lies, that’s all I dunn be askin’ massah man. It didn’t happen. Memories. As long as I’ll be tripping drunk down the avenues of the soul, who could forget the Airport? Destination, Hawaii, in which the ex was to be leaving to her next Duty Station and I was repeating why the fuck I’d sooner bathe in the shunted fluid from a syphilitic whore’s lymph nodes. Famous last words, “You will never find anyone who can be fucking honest. It doesn’t exist! Now hand me my god damn bag.†Then of course I found there were the reams of conversations, meticulous she was, in which I saw years of vitriol and hate espoused for yours truly. Oh and the credit cards. How the fuck do you max out two credits without having anything to show for it!?! I really wanna know. I could’ve used that money for good things, important things…like palm jobs from pre-teens and er uh…even more palm jobs. Though in all shades of serious I’d never do such a thing. Who the fuck pays for it? Go she-bitch, see if I care. Fuck your pretty-bois, who needs ya?! Of course not being married meant no more military housing, perks, privileges or being able to afford the very luscious lap urban mecha I lived in. I still remember throwing out all the furniture on the front lawn and the vultures coming to pick the marrow, the VCR and dining chairs, from my very bones. You whore-mongers, I hope you know I jizzed many a time on said couch. Yeah, but I got my revenge. Nothing hath the fury of a woman scorned, save that of a man deceived. In short I went like a bitch to her mommy and told her in explicit detail why I would not stay married to her daughter. In all honesty I think I would’ve enjoyed it more if I’d been able to provide visual aids. All that netted me was the solemn promise Jesus would look out for me. Does Jesus have a trust fund? So here I am, nigh penniless and with two suitcases of clothes to my name. I’ve moved back home with my family. A family I’d rather shove a glass rod up the tip of my urethra and shatter with a quick slap than be with again, avoiding sleep to write this all out. The moral of the story? Don’t trust Fae fucking penis, cocks and or dicks! Now if you’ll excuse me my wrists have a date with some razor blades. P.S. And if you ever happen along www.Deleted for more Anonymity.com and see one V-------? Take a raping from my EX for me. |
||||
 |
 |
|||
|
Faery Penises by 07/11/2003, 6:33am PDT  nope NT by 07/11/2003, 7:20am PDT Re: Faery Penises by 07/11/2003, 1:23pm PDT Too true by 07/11/2003, 1:32pm PDT |
