Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Dear Readers
I've saved the Thor series of stories on this blog; it will be updated as time allows. The most recent post is at the top, so unless you prefer to read a story from back to front, it would work best to start at the first entry (bottom of the page) and work your way up.
Thor Gets Lucky
Note to readers: This is another Thor adventure. It may be his last, but you never know. WARNING: This is full of sexual imagery, and is not for those who do not appreciate such stuff. I'm not kidding, this is strong stuff, full of descriptions of things that should be banned. Or not.
If you continue to read, I have another comment. I know that some of you who are not offended by sex might be offended by the unrealistic depiction of how men and women should relate to each other. To you I say: This is my blog, my fantasy, and I don't care!
OK, if you've come this far, thanks for visiting, I love you.
Thor awoke but was barely aware that it was morning. It had been a hell of a week: That kidnapping alone had consumed hours of report-writing. Then there was the genius nutcase that called in a bomb threat to the local Rexall store; that guy had told the poor clerk that the place was rigged to blow up unless everyone in the store stripped off their clothes and stood at the front window so he could keep an eye on them. The clerk, Chrissie, was 18 years old, and the only other person in the store at the time was the pharmacist, Joe, who was edging up near 72. Fearing for their lives, they complied. Damn if they didn’t make for a sight to people passing by on the street! A crowd formed to watch the two of them stand naked in
the front window while Chrissie held the cordless phone to her ear. They represented the yin and yang of the effects of gravity over time. People wondered: Had performance art come to their little town? Had Joe and Chrissie dipped into the narcotics? One thing for sure, there were a lot of photos being stored in cell phones and digital cameras that day, and many of the images appeared within minutes on the Internet! Of course, Thor had to call the bomb squad crew in from their hunting trip to search the building, and they were none too pleased. Thor didn’t like pissing off the bomb squad; they had a habit of pulling some really mean practical jokes to get even.
But now it was over, and Thor should be able to look forward to two actual, real, days off. As he shed the thoughts of the past few days, he realized he had a raging case of Morning Wood. He instinctively reached for his organ and gently squeezed; it was reassuring that his Love Stallion was there and ready to go. However, the sensations and fantasies that seemed to come with the erection would now influence his thoughts for the day. Another day of seeking relief for The Urge. Thor wondered if women had a female equivalent of morning wood. He doubted it, and the reason was that women thought differently than men. Women think about hair, cellulite, decorating, and romance. Men think in bursts of porn. One mental image of debauchery after another. It was all driven by that recurring erection and the imperative to find release. Women don’t seem to understand that about men, Thor thought, and the reason was simply because they didn’t experience the effects of several inches of a blood-engorged pleasure pole protruding from their pelvises throughout the day.
“Honey, what are you thinking about?” they’d say.
“I was just thinking that that house over there would have looked better with mauve trim instead of purple,” he’d reply.
“Thor, I love you and I love how you think,” she’d sigh, surprised that he was so sensitive and thoughtful.
Meanwhile, what Thor would really be thinking is that the woman who lived in that house probably cheats on her traveling salesman husband, and that probably she had nipple rings and would she like to be tied to the bedposts and be licked and sucked and penetrated for hours. And how about her sister, her cousin and her niece—could he get them all in the same bedroom? How many different orifices could he enter, and how many times, and in how many different positions? Would they swallow, or do they prefer facials? THAT was how men think, Thor mused.
Then he remembered that he was supposed to meet the two women from the kidnapping incident, Cheesy and Christine Yemanja, at the Willie's Wild Waffles for breakfast: They’d met briefly last night for a glass of celebratory wine, and they wanted to thank him again this morning for the rescue yesterday. He had kind of connected with them, they seemed nice enough. [And, who knows, if they were really grateful, maybe they’d put out.] Time for a cold shower!
Even though this was Thor’s day off, he was on first standby since the sub-station was down by one deputy. When on standby, he was allowed to drive the cruiser even though he was on personal errands, and was expected to respond to calls if needed. He wore his typical jeans, T-shirt and tennis shoes. He decided to go commando today, and he checked that his package was appropriately outlined by denim as he left the cottage. It should take only about 15 minutes to get to the Waffle Hut.
He’d only gone about 5 miles down the two-lane highway when he encountered a guy in a red Jeep who was driving erratically. As much as he wanted to enjoy his day off without being a cop, Thor hated the thought of this drunk causing some real havoc that could get him called in for hours. He lit up the blue lights and pulled behind the Jeep. It took a few moments, but eventually the driver became aware of the lights and eased onto the side of the road. Thor clipped his badge and his gun holster to his belt, and approached the car from the right side.
“Hello sir, could I see your license and vehicle registration?”
“Sure officer. Is there a problem?” The standard response of the guilty, Thor thought.
“I’m pulling you over for erratic driving,” Thor said. He looked at the license and registration, and they were both current. If he called in the traffic stop and did a field sobriety test, he could be tied up for hours with arresting the guy, having his car towed, and doing the paperwork. He’d rather eat waffles with redheads. [Or eating redheads] “Sir, would you mind telling me how much you’ve had to drink?” he asked through the heavy alcohol-saturated air wafting out of the automobile.
“Not too much officer, just a beer or two.” The other standard answer of the guilty.
“Where are you headed today?” Thor asked, noting that the guy’s address was in Klamath Falls, about 15 miles away.
“I was headed home, officer. Was just getting back from a little fishing trip at a friend’s cabin.” The guy’s voice was thick and slurred.
“Do you really think that you should be driving in your condition?” Thor challenged.
“Hell yes! I’m a great driver”—spraying spit as he spoke—“I’m very careful. It’s not rocket surgery ya know!”
That was all Thor needed to make up his mind. “So, sir, I need to have you perform a little agility and problem-solving test for me, to see if you can drive. Would you mind stepping out of the car, and handing me your car keys?”
The driver stepped out and would have fallen over had he not caught himself on the side of the car. Once he caught his balance, he handed Thor his keys with a stupid smile on his face.
“So sir, here is the test. What I want you to do is to keep a close eye on this key (he’d removed the car key from the rest). When I put it down, I want you pick it back up, and put it in your pocket. Do you understand?”
“Sure officer, I can pick up the key and put it into my pocket just fine,” the guy said, obviously relieved that the cop was going easy on him.
Thor held the key in front of the drunk and locked eyes with him. “Watching carefully?” he asked.
“Yep,” was the reply.
With that, Thor held the key in front of him on his outstretched hand, opened his hand, then drop-kicked it about 20 feet into a patch of bushes. The drunk stood there looking dumbfounded. “Sir, I understand that this test may take some time, so tell you what. I’ll come back in a few hours, and if you’re still here I’ll arrange a Breathalyzer test and you can be on your way.”
Thor turned, and walked back to his cruiser, got in, and started the engine. The drunk was frozen in place, staring at the bushes. Thor laughed; he loved being able to fast-track justice. He turned off the blue lights and entered the highway, leaving the drunk in his rear-view mirror. “Life is good!” Thor thought.
---
As Thor pulled into the Willie's Wild Waffles parking lot, he could see the two redheads already seated at a window booth. They looked even better than he remembered them. He got out of the cruiser, re-adjusted his Love Stallion, and strode into the café.
They were seated next to each other, and Thor slid into the bench opposite them in the booth. “How are you ladies doing today? Staying out of trouble?” he smiled his best smile.
The two of them giggled and made sideways glances at each other that told him that perhaps they had not stayed out of trouble. Even though they were nowhere near Nevada, they had that “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” look.
“We’re trying not to get caught, officer,” Cheesy said.
“Yes officer, and if you ask any other questions, I’d like an attorney present,” said Christine. All three broke out laughing at that.
Thor was trying to get a read on their body language. His immediate read was that they had done a bit of playing together last night. But he was distracted by their bodies as much as their body language.
“Well, [damn nice cleavage on that Cheesy one] in that case I’ll have to haul you in for interrogation [nipples sure stick out nicely on that Christine]” he said.
“Oohhh, officer, will you be handcuffing a sweet thing such as myself?” Christine said in a slow Texas drawl.
Thor’s manhood began to respond. [This could be a bit embarrassing if I have to stand up soon.] “Might have to. Is that what you want?” [Damn fucking hope she says ‘yes’. These girls are HOT. Cheesy with her curly long deep red hair, and Yemanja with that long, straight, thick red hair—this has all kinds of possibilities!]
“Maybe you’d want to waive your rights and just confess what a bad girl you’ve been.”
The two women again glanced at each other and smiled as if sharing a secret. [I like that neck on Yemanja. Come to think of it, I like that neck on Cheesy. Come to think of it, they both have very nice lips, too. I wonder what those lips could do with my cock…]
“Well, officer, we were talking this morning, and thinking that maybe you’d want to come to our motel room, and investigate the scene of the crime,” Cheesy offered. [My dick is rock hard! How the hell am I going to walk out of here? Fishing!—think of fishing. Or my bills. Fuck!]
“I think that is called for. We’ll hold off on the handcuffs until we see what level of involvement you’ve had in the crimes being investigated,” Thor said. They all rose together, the nipples of those redheads pressing through their blouses, and Thor’s manhood clearly outlined in its state of partial extension under his pants. The last thing on Thor’s mind was waffles, but his willie was on his mind.
---
Thor briefly wondered if he should stop for condoms on the way to the motel, and he decided that it was the prudent thing to do even if it might delay the action a bit. The drugstore had just opened, and after he spent all of 15 seconds debating whether to buy the Twisted Pleasure, the Her Pleasure, the Vibrating Ring or the Magnum Trojan Lubricated, it was the now-famous Chrissie who took his money for the carton of Magnums. Internet stardom had not changed Chrissie at all; in fact, unless Thor was mistaken, she gave him a bit of a “lucky you” smile as she handed back the bag of condoms and his change. [Note to file: keep track of this girl.]
He arrived at the motel, and headed to the women’s room which was at the end of the hall on the second floor. This time in the morning, people were mostly packing their cars, herding their kids, and preparing to leave. Thor, on the other hand, was trying to disguise a very, very hard penis under his jeans as we walked through the parking lot and then the lobby. Anticipation!
He knocked on the door and Cheesy opened, and asked him in. Her eyes wandered downward, and she smiled. “You don’t seem to be able to conceal your enthusiasm, officer.”
Yemanja was seated at the little table in the room, and she also locked eyes on his bulging crotch. “We thought you might have gotten lost Mr. Thor; so glad you could make it. I see that you are glad that you could make it, too.”
Thor noted that there was only the one King-sized bed in the room that the two women had shared. “So ladies, I need to start my interrogation. Do you want to just confess what’s on your minds, or do I need to beat it out of you?”
Yemanja laughed and Cheesy squealed a sexual squeal. Cheesy said, “Thor, we are really grateful for the work you do in law enforcement, and the way you came to the rescue of my friend Christine. And we also noticed that you are a strong, good looking, and healthy guy. So we thought that this next few hours would be all about you. What we promise is that you can do pretty much anything you want with us, as long as you don’t leave scars.”
At that, Christine again laughed, stood and began to remove her top. She had no bra on underneath, and her perky breasts, and even perkier nipples pointed right at him. Thor stood in awe of what he was seeing. She then proceeded to pull down her pants, and quickly tossed them aside. She stood a few feet away, nude except for pink panties with a playboy symbol on them. Her posture was one of confidence; she did not flinch as his gaze locked onto her body. In the meantime, Cheesy moved to Thor, and lifted his T-shirt from his jeans, and brought it up over his head. When the shirt was gone, her hand began to trace his cock through the denim of his jeans. Thor had thought it was already as long and hard as it could become, but her touch changed him from wood to titanium steel. She then bent and untied his shoes, and assisted him as he stepped out of them. Christine joined them from behind, and began reaching around him and tracing his nipples. He could feel her firm breasts against his back as Cheesy released his belt and unzipped his fly. As she tugged the pants downward slightly, his cock popped up. She inhaled audibly, then giggled and looked him in the eye as she knelt to pull the jeans all the way off. He felt Yemanja’s hand reach for his tool, and take it into her grasp. Cheesy had removed his pants, but remained kneeling in front of him as Christine changed the angle of his fully erect cock more downward. With that, Cheesy also put her hand on him, and took the tip of the burning member into her mouth. Her tongue moved along the underside as she gently sucked and Christine began to stroke him. This was all moving very quickly for Thor, and he could already feel the pressure of the building sexual pressure behind his balls and up his spine. It was too soon to cum, but he was totally lit up with an unbelievable tingle throughout his body. He let out a quiet moan as the stimulation became more intense.
“Let’s get you more comfortable on your back, Thor,” Christine purred. Thor made his way to the bed, and did as he was told.
He saw now that Cheesy was also nude. She had larger breasts than Christine, and they swung provocatively as she bent again to lick his balls. Her pubic hair was as curly and bushy as the hair on her head, and he liked the sliver of pink he could see when she spread her legs. Yemanja’s pubic hair was a bit silkier, and trimmed neatly in a Brazilian cut. Her labia were clearly visible and to Thor those lower lips were like a red cape to a bull.
Next thing Thor knew, Yemanja was straddling Thor, and positioning her pussy directly over his cock as Cheesy provided the aim by moving his shaft into alignment. Yemanja slowly lowered herself onto his rod, barely parting her pussy lips as his engorged penis began to feel the heat, the wetness and the tightness of her incredibly sexy cunt. He involuntarily thrust a bit upward, but she did not let him penetrate further. At least, not immediately. He could feel Cheesy’s expert hand encircle the base of his cock and grip it tightly while applying some strokes, and with her other hand she applied some pressure behind his balls to stimulate his also-engorged prostate. Thor could not remember ever being so incredibly stimulated during sex. Cheesy began to kiss his inner thighs as Yemanja slowly began to lower herself onto the length of his shaft. He could feel every ripple of the muscular vaginal wall in her incredibly tight pussy, and his cock became electric in its pleasure as his thickness stretched her. Yemanja and Thor both released moans of pleasure at the same moment, and Thor could see her face melt into a look of pre-orgasmic loss of control. Now she accepted his thrusts, and her head went back and Thor knew that he was now the leading this dance. As Cheesy reached around to massage Christine's breasts and kiss her neck, Thor felt her pussy contract around his cock, and she moaned “OH MY GOD!” from the back of her throat. After a few moments of spastic movement, Yemanja rolled off to lie on the bed beside him, and Cheesy quickly took her place on his now purple rod. Cheesy led with vigorous up and down movement on his hyper-stimulated cock, and began to moan. Thor could see the same loss of self in her face as her redheaded skin began to flush and her nipples tightened and her eyes lost focus. Her body was there, but her consciousness was in an ecstatic place. Soon, she moaned with animal sounds and her body began to shake.
This was too much for even Thor, who at that moment felt the buildup of man-juice inside begin its journey to Cheesy’s pussy. As the internal cum-dam released its load, Thor felt an incredible jolt of power and pleasure move from his balls to his spine to his brain, then to every sensory nerve in his body as the orgasm reached a crescendo. The first wad of molten white fluid moved quickly up the center of his cock, and burst out the tip as he cried out and released. The first ejaculation went deep inside of Cheesy, but he rolled her weakened body off of his staff and onto her back. He quickly positioned above her, and released two more large shots of cum on her heaving breasts. As he did so, he saw Yemanja’s hand reach over and massage his fluids over Cheesy’s nipples, then bring her fingers to her own lips to taste of Thor. With that, Thor, too, lay down on his back between the two redheads, and enjoyed the warm afterglow as they each threw an arm over him and snuggled to his shoulders, stroking his body lightly and spreading the seemingly endless supply of cum over the bodies of all three of them. In that pose, they all fell asleep.
Thor awoke to the sensation of Cheesy’s tongue tracing his lips, and someone’s hand gently stroking his cock. He felt the firmness return to his member, and he responded to Cheesy’s affection by pulling her face in tighter and kissing her deeply. Damn if he didn’t actually like this hippy tree hugger! He reached up with his eyes closed until he felt someone’s breast, and he began to massage and roll the nipple between his fingers. Someone was moaning, and he wasn’t sure who but the sound seemed to enhance the tempo in the bed. Yemanja spoke: “Thor, our gratitude for you is boundless, and we knew that two women such as ourselves would be no match for a man like you. We’ve taken the liberty to invite a few more of our online friends to join us. Thor opened his eyes, and in the bed, beside the bed, on him, were a dozen or more lovely women. They seemed familiar, but he could not place them. “Introduce yourselves, ladies,” Cheesy said.
They called out their names in turn. “I’m Wendy.” “I’m Liz.” “I’m Kimberly.” “I’m Meg.” “I’m Mindy.” “I’m Sally.” “I’m Monika.” "I'm Zora." And it continued for some time until the dozen or so girls had all called out. Then Thor felt their hands and mouths all over his body, and the sensations became increasingly intense as every sensual spot was stimulated. Within minutes, Thor again came, and his Love Stallion spewed what seemed like endless quantities of sperm on the assembly of women as they cooed and moaned in honor of his manhood. They then began to either pleasure themselves or each other while Thor gazed lazily at the scene until he fell back to sleep in exhaustion.
Thor was thoroughly spent by the time these women had had their way with him, time after time. The afternoon finally ended with the two of them washing him off in the motel shower. When it was time to leave, each waited at the door in the nude to kiss him and thank him for the wonderful time together.
---
As he got in the cruiser, Thor saw the bag of condoms on the seat; he’d forgotten all about them in his haste to get together with the women. He pulled out of the parking lot, exhausted and satisfied, and headed back to home. A few miles from home, he saw the Jeep still parked beside the road, and the driver rooting around in the bushes. He pulled over and asked the driver how it was going, to which the now sober perp responded with, “Watch the puppet,” as he flipped Thor the bird. Thor smiled and drove off slowly, waving his best friendly cop wave back. After a day like today, he could care less about that asshole.
As Thor entered the house, he saw in front of him what looked like a giant greeting card centered in the entryway. It said, "Best Regards from the Bomb Squad." Moments later, fifteen mini-bomb filled dildos exploded around his entryway, leaving fragments of latex penises splattered over the walls. Thor smiled at the love.
Thank you to two of my readers who have been incredibly good sports to allow me to depict them in this disgusting little story. You guys rock!
If you continue to read, I have another comment. I know that some of you who are not offended by sex might be offended by the unrealistic depiction of how men and women should relate to each other. To you I say: This is my blog, my fantasy, and I don't care!
OK, if you've come this far, thanks for visiting, I love you.
Thor awoke but was barely aware that it was morning. It had been a hell of a week: That kidnapping alone had consumed hours of report-writing. Then there was the genius nutcase that called in a bomb threat to the local Rexall store; that guy had told the poor clerk that the place was rigged to blow up unless everyone in the store stripped off their clothes and stood at the front window so he could keep an eye on them. The clerk, Chrissie, was 18 years old, and the only other person in the store at the time was the pharmacist, Joe, who was edging up near 72. Fearing for their lives, they complied. Damn if they didn’t make for a sight to people passing by on the street! A crowd formed to watch the two of them stand naked in
the front window while Chrissie held the cordless phone to her ear. They represented the yin and yang of the effects of gravity over time. People wondered: Had performance art come to their little town? Had Joe and Chrissie dipped into the narcotics? One thing for sure, there were a lot of photos being stored in cell phones and digital cameras that day, and many of the images appeared within minutes on the Internet! Of course, Thor had to call the bomb squad crew in from their hunting trip to search the building, and they were none too pleased. Thor didn’t like pissing off the bomb squad; they had a habit of pulling some really mean practical jokes to get even.But now it was over, and Thor should be able to look forward to two actual, real, days off. As he shed the thoughts of the past few days, he realized he had a raging case of Morning Wood. He instinctively reached for his organ and gently squeezed; it was reassuring that his Love Stallion was there and ready to go. However, the sensations and fantasies that seemed to come with the erection would now influence his thoughts for the day. Another day of seeking relief for The Urge. Thor wondered if women had a female equivalent of morning wood. He doubted it, and the reason was that women thought differently than men. Women think about hair, cellulite, decorating, and romance. Men think in bursts of porn. One mental image of debauchery after another. It was all driven by that recurring erection and the imperative to find release. Women don’t seem to understand that about men, Thor thought, and the reason was simply because they didn’t experience the effects of several inches of a blood-engorged pleasure pole protruding from their pelvises throughout the day.
“Honey, what are you thinking about?” they’d say.
“I was just thinking that that house over there would have looked better with mauve trim instead of purple,” he’d reply.
“Thor, I love you and I love how you think,” she’d sigh, surprised that he was so sensitive and thoughtful.
Meanwhile, what Thor would really be thinking is that the woman who lived in that house probably cheats on her traveling salesman husband, and that probably she had nipple rings and would she like to be tied to the bedposts and be licked and sucked and penetrated for hours. And how about her sister, her cousin and her niece—could he get them all in the same bedroom? How many different orifices could he enter, and how many times, and in how many different positions? Would they swallow, or do they prefer facials? THAT was how men think, Thor mused.
Then he remembered that he was supposed to meet the two women from the kidnapping incident, Cheesy and Christine Yemanja, at the Willie's Wild Waffles for breakfast: They’d met briefly last night for a glass of celebratory wine, and they wanted to thank him again this morning for the rescue yesterday. He had kind of connected with them, they seemed nice enough. [And, who knows, if they were really grateful, maybe they’d put out.] Time for a cold shower!
Even though this was Thor’s day off, he was on first standby since the sub-station was down by one deputy. When on standby, he was allowed to drive the cruiser even though he was on personal errands, and was expected to respond to calls if needed. He wore his typical jeans, T-shirt and tennis shoes. He decided to go commando today, and he checked that his package was appropriately outlined by denim as he left the cottage. It should take only about 15 minutes to get to the Waffle Hut.
He’d only gone about 5 miles down the two-lane highway when he encountered a guy in a red Jeep who was driving erratically. As much as he wanted to enjoy his day off without being a cop, Thor hated the thought of this drunk causing some real havoc that could get him called in for hours. He lit up the blue lights and pulled behind the Jeep. It took a few moments, but eventually the driver became aware of the lights and eased onto the side of the road. Thor clipped his badge and his gun holster to his belt, and approached the car from the right side.
“Hello sir, could I see your license and vehicle registration?”
“Sure officer. Is there a problem?” The standard response of the guilty, Thor thought.
“I’m pulling you over for erratic driving,” Thor said. He looked at the license and registration, and they were both current. If he called in the traffic stop and did a field sobriety test, he could be tied up for hours with arresting the guy, having his car towed, and doing the paperwork. He’d rather eat waffles with redheads. [Or eating redheads] “Sir, would you mind telling me how much you’ve had to drink?” he asked through the heavy alcohol-saturated air wafting out of the automobile.
“Not too much officer, just a beer or two.” The other standard answer of the guilty.
“Where are you headed today?” Thor asked, noting that the guy’s address was in Klamath Falls, about 15 miles away.
“I was headed home, officer. Was just getting back from a little fishing trip at a friend’s cabin.” The guy’s voice was thick and slurred.
“Do you really think that you should be driving in your condition?” Thor challenged.
“Hell yes! I’m a great driver”—spraying spit as he spoke—“I’m very careful. It’s not rocket surgery ya know!”
That was all Thor needed to make up his mind. “So, sir, I need to have you perform a little agility and problem-solving test for me, to see if you can drive. Would you mind stepping out of the car, and handing me your car keys?”
The driver stepped out and would have fallen over had he not caught himself on the side of the car. Once he caught his balance, he handed Thor his keys with a stupid smile on his face.
“So sir, here is the test. What I want you to do is to keep a close eye on this key (he’d removed the car key from the rest). When I put it down, I want you pick it back up, and put it in your pocket. Do you understand?”
“Sure officer, I can pick up the key and put it into my pocket just fine,” the guy said, obviously relieved that the cop was going easy on him.
Thor held the key in front of the drunk and locked eyes with him. “Watching carefully?” he asked.
“Yep,” was the reply.
With that, Thor held the key in front of him on his outstretched hand, opened his hand, then drop-kicked it about 20 feet into a patch of bushes. The drunk stood there looking dumbfounded. “Sir, I understand that this test may take some time, so tell you what. I’ll come back in a few hours, and if you’re still here I’ll arrange a Breathalyzer test and you can be on your way.”
Thor turned, and walked back to his cruiser, got in, and started the engine. The drunk was frozen in place, staring at the bushes. Thor laughed; he loved being able to fast-track justice. He turned off the blue lights and entered the highway, leaving the drunk in his rear-view mirror. “Life is good!” Thor thought.
---
As Thor pulled into the Willie's Wild Waffles parking lot, he could see the two redheads already seated at a window booth. They looked even better than he remembered them. He got out of the cruiser, re-adjusted his Love Stallion, and strode into the café.
They were seated next to each other, and Thor slid into the bench opposite them in the booth. “How are you ladies doing today? Staying out of trouble?” he smiled his best smile.
The two of them giggled and made sideways glances at each other that told him that perhaps they had not stayed out of trouble. Even though they were nowhere near Nevada, they had that “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” look.
“We’re trying not to get caught, officer,” Cheesy said.
“Yes officer, and if you ask any other questions, I’d like an attorney present,” said Christine. All three broke out laughing at that.
Thor was trying to get a read on their body language. His immediate read was that they had done a bit of playing together last night. But he was distracted by their bodies as much as their body language.
“Well, [damn nice cleavage on that Cheesy one] in that case I’ll have to haul you in for interrogation [nipples sure stick out nicely on that Christine]” he said.
“Oohhh, officer, will you be handcuffing a sweet thing such as myself?” Christine said in a slow Texas drawl.
Thor’s manhood began to respond. [This could be a bit embarrassing if I have to stand up soon.] “Might have to. Is that what you want?” [Damn fucking hope she says ‘yes’. These girls are HOT. Cheesy with her curly long deep red hair, and Yemanja with that long, straight, thick red hair—this has all kinds of possibilities!]
“Maybe you’d want to waive your rights and just confess what a bad girl you’ve been.”
The two women again glanced at each other and smiled as if sharing a secret. [I like that neck on Yemanja. Come to think of it, I like that neck on Cheesy. Come to think of it, they both have very nice lips, too. I wonder what those lips could do with my cock…]
“Well, officer, we were talking this morning, and thinking that maybe you’d want to come to our motel room, and investigate the scene of the crime,” Cheesy offered. [My dick is rock hard! How the hell am I going to walk out of here? Fishing!—think of fishing. Or my bills. Fuck!]
“I think that is called for. We’ll hold off on the handcuffs until we see what level of involvement you’ve had in the crimes being investigated,” Thor said. They all rose together, the nipples of those redheads pressing through their blouses, and Thor’s manhood clearly outlined in its state of partial extension under his pants. The last thing on Thor’s mind was waffles, but his willie was on his mind.
---
Thor briefly wondered if he should stop for condoms on the way to the motel, and he decided that it was the prudent thing to do even if it might delay the action a bit. The drugstore had just opened, and after he spent all of 15 seconds debating whether to buy the Twisted Pleasure, the Her Pleasure, the Vibrating Ring or the Magnum Trojan Lubricated, it was the now-famous Chrissie who took his money for the carton of Magnums. Internet stardom had not changed Chrissie at all; in fact, unless Thor was mistaken, she gave him a bit of a “lucky you” smile as she handed back the bag of condoms and his change. [Note to file: keep track of this girl.]
He arrived at the motel, and headed to the women’s room which was at the end of the hall on the second floor. This time in the morning, people were mostly packing their cars, herding their kids, and preparing to leave. Thor, on the other hand, was trying to disguise a very, very hard penis under his jeans as we walked through the parking lot and then the lobby. Anticipation!
He knocked on the door and Cheesy opened, and asked him in. Her eyes wandered downward, and she smiled. “You don’t seem to be able to conceal your enthusiasm, officer.”
Yemanja was seated at the little table in the room, and she also locked eyes on his bulging crotch. “We thought you might have gotten lost Mr. Thor; so glad you could make it. I see that you are glad that you could make it, too.”
Thor noted that there was only the one King-sized bed in the room that the two women had shared. “So ladies, I need to start my interrogation. Do you want to just confess what’s on your minds, or do I need to beat it out of you?”
Yemanja laughed and Cheesy squealed a sexual squeal. Cheesy said, “Thor, we are really grateful for the work you do in law enforcement, and the way you came to the rescue of my friend Christine. And we also noticed that you are a strong, good looking, and healthy guy. So we thought that this next few hours would be all about you. What we promise is that you can do pretty much anything you want with us, as long as you don’t leave scars.”
At that, Christine again laughed, stood and began to remove her top. She had no bra on underneath, and her perky breasts, and even perkier nipples pointed right at him. Thor stood in awe of what he was seeing. She then proceeded to pull down her pants, and quickly tossed them aside. She stood a few feet away, nude except for pink panties with a playboy symbol on them. Her posture was one of confidence; she did not flinch as his gaze locked onto her body. In the meantime, Cheesy moved to Thor, and lifted his T-shirt from his jeans, and brought it up over his head. When the shirt was gone, her hand began to trace his cock through the denim of his jeans. Thor had thought it was already as long and hard as it could become, but her touch changed him from wood to titanium steel. She then bent and untied his shoes, and assisted him as he stepped out of them. Christine joined them from behind, and began reaching around him and tracing his nipples. He could feel her firm breasts against his back as Cheesy released his belt and unzipped his fly. As she tugged the pants downward slightly, his cock popped up. She inhaled audibly, then giggled and looked him in the eye as she knelt to pull the jeans all the way off. He felt Yemanja’s hand reach for his tool, and take it into her grasp. Cheesy had removed his pants, but remained kneeling in front of him as Christine changed the angle of his fully erect cock more downward. With that, Cheesy also put her hand on him, and took the tip of the burning member into her mouth. Her tongue moved along the underside as she gently sucked and Christine began to stroke him. This was all moving very quickly for Thor, and he could already feel the pressure of the building sexual pressure behind his balls and up his spine. It was too soon to cum, but he was totally lit up with an unbelievable tingle throughout his body. He let out a quiet moan as the stimulation became more intense.
“Let’s get you more comfortable on your back, Thor,” Christine purred. Thor made his way to the bed, and did as he was told.
He saw now that Cheesy was also nude. She had larger breasts than Christine, and they swung provocatively as she bent again to lick his balls. Her pubic hair was as curly and bushy as the hair on her head, and he liked the sliver of pink he could see when she spread her legs. Yemanja’s pubic hair was a bit silkier, and trimmed neatly in a Brazilian cut. Her labia were clearly visible and to Thor those lower lips were like a red cape to a bull.
Next thing Thor knew, Yemanja was straddling Thor, and positioning her pussy directly over his cock as Cheesy provided the aim by moving his shaft into alignment. Yemanja slowly lowered herself onto his rod, barely parting her pussy lips as his engorged penis began to feel the heat, the wetness and the tightness of her incredibly sexy cunt. He involuntarily thrust a bit upward, but she did not let him penetrate further. At least, not immediately. He could feel Cheesy’s expert hand encircle the base of his cock and grip it tightly while applying some strokes, and with her other hand she applied some pressure behind his balls to stimulate his also-engorged prostate. Thor could not remember ever being so incredibly stimulated during sex. Cheesy began to kiss his inner thighs as Yemanja slowly began to lower herself onto the length of his shaft. He could feel every ripple of the muscular vaginal wall in her incredibly tight pussy, and his cock became electric in its pleasure as his thickness stretched her. Yemanja and Thor both released moans of pleasure at the same moment, and Thor could see her face melt into a look of pre-orgasmic loss of control. Now she accepted his thrusts, and her head went back and Thor knew that he was now the leading this dance. As Cheesy reached around to massage Christine's breasts and kiss her neck, Thor felt her pussy contract around his cock, and she moaned “OH MY GOD!” from the back of her throat. After a few moments of spastic movement, Yemanja rolled off to lie on the bed beside him, and Cheesy quickly took her place on his now purple rod. Cheesy led with vigorous up and down movement on his hyper-stimulated cock, and began to moan. Thor could see the same loss of self in her face as her redheaded skin began to flush and her nipples tightened and her eyes lost focus. Her body was there, but her consciousness was in an ecstatic place. Soon, she moaned with animal sounds and her body began to shake.
This was too much for even Thor, who at that moment felt the buildup of man-juice inside begin its journey to Cheesy’s pussy. As the internal cum-dam released its load, Thor felt an incredible jolt of power and pleasure move from his balls to his spine to his brain, then to every sensory nerve in his body as the orgasm reached a crescendo. The first wad of molten white fluid moved quickly up the center of his cock, and burst out the tip as he cried out and released. The first ejaculation went deep inside of Cheesy, but he rolled her weakened body off of his staff and onto her back. He quickly positioned above her, and released two more large shots of cum on her heaving breasts. As he did so, he saw Yemanja’s hand reach over and massage his fluids over Cheesy’s nipples, then bring her fingers to her own lips to taste of Thor. With that, Thor, too, lay down on his back between the two redheads, and enjoyed the warm afterglow as they each threw an arm over him and snuggled to his shoulders, stroking his body lightly and spreading the seemingly endless supply of cum over the bodies of all three of them. In that pose, they all fell asleep.
Thor awoke to the sensation of Cheesy’s tongue tracing his lips, and someone’s hand gently stroking his cock. He felt the firmness return to his member, and he responded to Cheesy’s affection by pulling her face in tighter and kissing her deeply. Damn if he didn’t actually like this hippy tree hugger! He reached up with his eyes closed until he felt someone’s breast, and he began to massage and roll the nipple between his fingers. Someone was moaning, and he wasn’t sure who but the sound seemed to enhance the tempo in the bed. Yemanja spoke: “Thor, our gratitude for you is boundless, and we knew that two women such as ourselves would be no match for a man like you. We’ve taken the liberty to invite a few more of our online friends to join us. Thor opened his eyes, and in the bed, beside the bed, on him, were a dozen or more lovely women. They seemed familiar, but he could not place them. “Introduce yourselves, ladies,” Cheesy said.
They called out their names in turn. “I’m Wendy.” “I’m Liz.” “I’m Kimberly.” “I’m Meg.” “I’m Mindy.” “I’m Sally.” “I’m Monika.” "I'm Zora." And it continued for some time until the dozen or so girls had all called out. Then Thor felt their hands and mouths all over his body, and the sensations became increasingly intense as every sensual spot was stimulated. Within minutes, Thor again came, and his Love Stallion spewed what seemed like endless quantities of sperm on the assembly of women as they cooed and moaned in honor of his manhood. They then began to either pleasure themselves or each other while Thor gazed lazily at the scene until he fell back to sleep in exhaustion.
Thor was thoroughly spent by the time these women had had their way with him, time after time. The afternoon finally ended with the two of them washing him off in the motel shower. When it was time to leave, each waited at the door in the nude to kiss him and thank him for the wonderful time together.
---
As he got in the cruiser, Thor saw the bag of condoms on the seat; he’d forgotten all about them in his haste to get together with the women. He pulled out of the parking lot, exhausted and satisfied, and headed back to home. A few miles from home, he saw the Jeep still parked beside the road, and the driver rooting around in the bushes. He pulled over and asked the driver how it was going, to which the now sober perp responded with, “Watch the puppet,” as he flipped Thor the bird. Thor smiled and drove off slowly, waving his best friendly cop wave back. After a day like today, he could care less about that asshole.
As Thor entered the house, he saw in front of him what looked like a giant greeting card centered in the entryway. It said, "Best Regards from the Bomb Squad." Moments later, fifteen mini-bomb filled dildos exploded around his entryway, leaving fragments of latex penises splattered over the walls. Thor smiled at the love.
Thank you to two of my readers who have been incredibly good sports to allow me to depict them in this disgusting little story. You guys rock!
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Revenge of the Underwear, Part 2
This is a continuation of the saga of Thor. In the last episode, Thor was investigating the kidnapping of a redheaded tourist who disappeared on his beat. This story takes up where the last one left, with the young woman in the pit below the kidnapper's house. There is adult content, and feminists will probably stop reading after the second paragraph, but I skipped the disgusting content this time. That will probably be in the next episode. I apologize to any reader who is feeling deprived of disgust; I'll try to make it up to you in the future, or you can contact me by email and I'll disgust you in real time.
The Power
Chuck watched as this fine redheaded creature lay on her back on the little wool carpet he’d placed on the floor for just this occasion. He smiled as she obeyed him; he felt a power that he’d never experienced before with a woman. She feared him, and his ability to hurt her with his Taser made him feel like the man he’d always wanted to be. Chuck paused a moment to ponder and enjoy this grand new energy; he would take his time and force her to submit to his authority. His mind was filled with visual fantasy of how he would touch her, perhaps gripping her pretty hair and forcing her mouth to his manhood. If she protested, he would threaten her, and hurt her if need be. What pleasure it would bring him to hurt her with no consequences. She belonged to him! He was undressed, and he looked her in the eye as he lay the Taser on the old metal table next to the carpet. He moved closer to his own private prisoner, and he thought he saw her tremble.
Chuck imagined pinning her wrists with his own hands, and penetrating her most private organ as she squirmed and protested. He knew that the more she resisted, the more he would enjoy this. He secretly hoped that she would resist: all the more incentive to use his power. He thought that hours later, when he was done terrorizing her, she would probably tell him that his manhood, had, after all, pleased her. She would ultimately worship his rock hard cock, and perhaps ask for more. But if she didn’t ask just right, he would Taser her just to remind her of his superiority.
As Chuck’s mind previewed the scene that was about to unfold, he became conscious that something was amiss. What was it? What was wrong with this scene, the moment he’d planned for and was now about to bring to reality? He searched the reaches of his mind, scanned the room, looked hard into her eyes, and couldn’t think of what was the matter. Then, it hit him. His cock was not hard! In spite of his power, his dominance, her helpless status, his organ was not cooperating with his plan.
Chuck felt the anger rising inside him. She was to blame! This little redheaded tart had somehow put a spell on him, blocking his erection. His face became flush as he approached her full of hate and anger. That pussy was using its power for evil purposes!
The Vulnerable
Christine did not like being naked in front of this man who held her prisoner. She knew that he had a sort of power over her, but she also knew that he could not take away all of her power. She watched his movements carefully for clues about how to use whatever power that she still had.
As his skinny, pathetic frame stood in front of her, she watched as his eyes touched every bit of her exposed skin. That wicked smile curled at the corners of his lips, giving her a chill. She knew that he would soon force himself upon her. Then she noticed his dick. It hung down, limp and nearly lifeless against the backdrop of his pendulous sack. For some reason, she thought it looked like a midget Buddha sitting in a beanbag chair. She thought that if he did rape her, she might not even feel it. She knew that it would enrage him if she giggled, but that was what she felt like doing. At that moment, she knew that this center of male power was also his vulnerability.
In that instant his demeanor changed, and she saw a new emotion rise in him: hatred and rage. The veins stood out in his neck, and his fists clenched as he began to approach her. She had to de-escalate his anger… but, what brought this on?? The Taser was within his reach, but he seemed to want to hurt her with his bare hands.
“Chuck, you are a powerful man. May I touch your cock? I’d like to feel it get hard in my hands.” This stopped him for a moment, and then the disgusting smile returned to his face. He began to advance closer, but now instead of fists, he presented his limp wiener to her. As he stood inches away, his cock at her face level, she feigned admiration. “I’ll bet you’ve pleased a lot of women with that, Chuck. I feel like I’m in the presence of greatness.” It wiggled a tiny bit.
She gets it. She knows my power, and she can’t wait for me to give it to her, Chuck thought.
---
Christine thought, “The balance of power is shifting” as she dared to smile a secret smile.
As she reached to touch his dangling worm, she considered her options to escape this little man and the pathetic pit she found herself in. A plan began to form in her mind. She cradled this nasty meat with the palm of her hand, and began a slow motion stroke on the underside.
We’re not going to take it any more
The underwear loved the caress of each other’s touch, and enjoyed the exchange of thoughts between the two of them. The wonderful part of their existence was the connection with the Pure Conciousness that was the dimension they now were part of. Nothing compared to the flow of thought sharing of this dimension, and the ability to communicate without words. Their souls just knew. They coexisted with all the thoughts, prayers, fears, loves and other sorts of energy of the universe, and proximity enhanced their ability to share. And right now, what they knew for sure was that it was time to call on the forces of Pure Consciousness to bring down the firm hammer of instant karma on this Chuck guy. As this realization crystallized, the invisible plasma of this universe became alive with thought energy, and panties and underwear all over the earth logged on to this particular ping from Polly and Bart.
Immediately, the forces of Good Lingerie aligned behind the burst of energy started by these two undies, and the Cosmic Internet buzzed with excitement at the prospect of focusing infinite justice on this space-occupying piece of skid mark known as “Chuck.”
The Grand Consciousness of Panties (GCP) heard their pleas. In the Undies Universe, GCP was recognized as the spiritual leader. Her power was unmatched, and her wisdom was respected and sought out by panties everywhere. Within moments, GCP connected to the call from Polly and Bart, and responded. She immediately and intuitively understood the need to act quickly to neutralize the negative actions of Chuck.
“Grand Consciousness, how can we make him stop? What power do we have over three dimensional life forms? Especially nutcase three dimensional carbon life forms? We are but thoughts and emotions; he is composed of protons, neutrons, electrons and quarks.”
Big Momma replied with her instant energy message, shared with all undies of the world, “The power you need exists in both our dimension and the three dimension world. You must harness that power to disable this useless loser. You must never consider yourself helpless. Within you lies the answer to all problems, and you can choose how to use that power. But first, you must get out of your pattern of thinking like skimpy thong string panties. Get your power from thinking differently. You must no longer be the skimpy panties. You must reinvent yourself as Big Girl Panties. When you imagine yourself as the Big Girl Panties, you will have a power to accomplish what you never thought you could. You can--and must--be what you visualize yourself as being.”
The panties and undies of the universe were stunned with the wisdom and practicality of Grand Conciousness’ message. And, the strategy began to crystallize across the universe instantly. The Thought began as a seed that comprised two words: STATIC ELECTRICITY! All panties knew that they had this power, particularly with carbon life forms standing on wool carpets. It was all about transferring electrons and creating a differential electrical charge on the skin. The combined forces of universal consciousness immediately began transferring electrons to Chuck’s body, making him into an increasingly negatively charged storehouse for all those electrons that were channeled his way. In most cases, shocks from static electricity result in relatively minor jolts. In this case, however, the Undies were pissed. Unbeknownst to him, Chuck was accumulating voltage quickly in his body. Chuck was about to experience a static electrical shock of a scale that only a few people have ever experienced.
Charm the snake
Christine reached out and touched Chuck’s limp manhood with the fingertip of one hand as she cradled it with the other hand. With her best feminine Texas accent, she whispered, “This is the biggest cock I’ve ever seen. What does it feel like to be so big?”
“It is?” Chuck replied. He really didn’t know. It didn’t seem especially big to him, but surely this little red-headed tart would know. “I mean, it’s always been that way, I guess I’m just used to it.” He liked the way this girl touched him, and he began to feel a tingle all over his body. It had an electrical quality to it, like nothing he’d experienced before. So this is what it’s like to be with a woman! He closed his eyes to enjoy her touch. “Grab that big cock, baby, make it do tricks for you.”
With Christine’s left hand, she did indeed wrap her fingers around this disgusting member. But with her right hand, she reached for the Taser, placing it behind her when his eyes closed.
Polarity
GCP revealed some Undies Truth to her followers: “You are watching the Yin and Yang of the Universe regain balance. Soon the negative will touch the positive, and they will find a way to equalize their power. Humans constantly seek pleasure even as they seek to avoid pain. By accepting pleasure, they increase their risk of pain when the pleasure is withdrawn. By avoiding pain, they miss opportunities for pleasure. Thus, imbalance occurs, and they hurt one another by seeking and avoiding. Our misguided Chuck is about to reap the reward of inflicting pain in order to seek his own pleasure.
Electrons Rock
Chuck was enjoying this. He could literally feel the hair on his body stand on end as his dick got a bit harder. He loved the feel of her hand on his cock, and the slow strokes she used to arouse him. In fantasy, this would be where he’d grab the Taser and teach her to respect him. As he began to reach for it, he felt her let go of him. As he touched the metal table the Taser had been lying on, he suddenly felt a tremendous jolt of a thousand stings hit his body and arc through his spine, momentarily causing him to lose control of his bladder and leg muscles. In an instant, Chuck thought to himself, “Is this what sex is like? I’m not so sure I like this!” The flow of electricity hit him like he was standing in front of a runaway truck headed downhill with increasing speed and force.
---
Christine took her hands off of his cock and now had the Taser in hand, and pointed it at her tormenter just as he suddenly stiffened his whole body and his legs began to crumble. A stream of urine formed from his dick. She yelled at him, “Here’s a bucket of Shut The Fuck Up” as she pulled the trigger, and she saw the most amazing sight: An arc of electricity flowed not only from the Taser, but simultaneously several other arcs appeared between Chuck and the carpet, the table and even the light fixture above. Did I somehow turn this to an extra-high setting? she wondered. Before her, the spectacle unfolded in what seemed like slow motion. Chuck was enveloped in a halo of electrical fluorescence and crackling as if he were a giant mutant firefly minus wings, and every muscle in his body contracted, causing him to launch on an involuntary leap into the air. Now he was literally flying as he glowed, and his little Buddha cock stiffened into a lightning rod of sorts, sending out sparks and bolts of electricity along the path of leaking urine.
I think this is a good time to leave, Christine thought as she grabbed her most of her clothes, and bolted out the door, up the stairs, and into his musty laundry room. She quickly dressed (minus panties and bra), then ran out of the house to a neighbor’s where she called the sheriff.
There’s a new sheriff in town
Thor had sat down with this Cheesy hippy woman at the office to interview her, when one of the dispatchers stuck her head in the door and told him of the 911 call that had just come in from Christine. Units were already headed to the scene. “I want to go, too,” Cheesy pleaded, and Thor said sure, strap yourself in and we’ll go for a ride. He figured maybe Cheesy could calm this Yemanja woman, who was likely to be a whimpering crybaby by the time he got there.
Thor turned on the siren and lights; that’s always a turn-on to women, and Thor loved to have turned-on women in his car. This Cheesy girl wasn’t bad, and he suspected that turning on a redhead might be especially fun.
Two other officers were already on scene when Thor pulled up. Sitting on the step of the neighbor’s house was a lovely looking redhead being interviewed by one of the deputies. Thor assumed that that was Yemanja. She did not appear to be crying. In fact, she appeared to be very much in control of herself. Cheesy jumped out and ran to meet her, and Christine stood and embraced her. In spite of never meeting before, they recognized one another and were instantly bound in friendship. Thor watched for a moment as their braless boobs smooshed together. His mind began to wander.
“Come see this, Thor,” the other deputy said. He took him into Chuck’s house, and down the stairs into the pit, where some medics were attending to Chuck. There was the distinct smell of fried bacon in the room, and Chuck was naked, hairless and incoherent. He didn’t look like the typical rapist, but Thor knew by now that there is nothing typical about criminals except that they are often not too bright. Then Thor noticed the strangest thing. Where Chuck’s dick should have been was a little nub of glowing, smoking flesh. This Yemanja girl had really done a number on the perp! He looked at the other deputy, and they both laughed. “Man, this guy tangled with the wrong woman! He brings new meaning to 'hunka hunka burnin love'.”
They then heard a faint voice in the room. It was Chuck, barely audible. They leaned towards him, and heard him say, "That was one hot woman!"
Back up on the front lawn, Thor approached Cheesy and Yemanja, who were both chatting excitedly. Cheesy turned as Thor approached, and introduced him to Christine. “Good to meet you Ms. Yemanja. Sorry I wasn’t here sooner, but it looks like you managed to take the law into your own hands without us,” he said, noticing distinct nipplage protruding through the tops worn by both of the women.
Thor suddenly felt something, like a voice in his head whispering, You need to get to know these two women, Thor. A power inhabited him, and he gazed at these two wonderful looking women in front of him. Without thinking he said, “Perhaps we should get together for a glass of wine this evening, and debrief.”
The two women smiled, and without a word, he knew their answer was, “yes.”
…To be continued…
The Power
Chuck watched as this fine redheaded creature lay on her back on the little wool carpet he’d placed on the floor for just this occasion. He smiled as she obeyed him; he felt a power that he’d never experienced before with a woman. She feared him, and his ability to hurt her with his Taser made him feel like the man he’d always wanted to be. Chuck paused a moment to ponder and enjoy this grand new energy; he would take his time and force her to submit to his authority. His mind was filled with visual fantasy of how he would touch her, perhaps gripping her pretty hair and forcing her mouth to his manhood. If she protested, he would threaten her, and hurt her if need be. What pleasure it would bring him to hurt her with no consequences. She belonged to him! He was undressed, and he looked her in the eye as he lay the Taser on the old metal table next to the carpet. He moved closer to his own private prisoner, and he thought he saw her tremble.
Chuck imagined pinning her wrists with his own hands, and penetrating her most private organ as she squirmed and protested. He knew that the more she resisted, the more he would enjoy this. He secretly hoped that she would resist: all the more incentive to use his power. He thought that hours later, when he was done terrorizing her, she would probably tell him that his manhood, had, after all, pleased her. She would ultimately worship his rock hard cock, and perhaps ask for more. But if she didn’t ask just right, he would Taser her just to remind her of his superiority.
As Chuck’s mind previewed the scene that was about to unfold, he became conscious that something was amiss. What was it? What was wrong with this scene, the moment he’d planned for and was now about to bring to reality? He searched the reaches of his mind, scanned the room, looked hard into her eyes, and couldn’t think of what was the matter. Then, it hit him. His cock was not hard! In spite of his power, his dominance, her helpless status, his organ was not cooperating with his plan.
Chuck felt the anger rising inside him. She was to blame! This little redheaded tart had somehow put a spell on him, blocking his erection. His face became flush as he approached her full of hate and anger. That pussy was using its power for evil purposes!
The Vulnerable
Christine did not like being naked in front of this man who held her prisoner. She knew that he had a sort of power over her, but she also knew that he could not take away all of her power. She watched his movements carefully for clues about how to use whatever power that she still had.
As his skinny, pathetic frame stood in front of her, she watched as his eyes touched every bit of her exposed skin. That wicked smile curled at the corners of his lips, giving her a chill. She knew that he would soon force himself upon her. Then she noticed his dick. It hung down, limp and nearly lifeless against the backdrop of his pendulous sack. For some reason, she thought it looked like a midget Buddha sitting in a beanbag chair. She thought that if he did rape her, she might not even feel it. She knew that it would enrage him if she giggled, but that was what she felt like doing. At that moment, she knew that this center of male power was also his vulnerability.
In that instant his demeanor changed, and she saw a new emotion rise in him: hatred and rage. The veins stood out in his neck, and his fists clenched as he began to approach her. She had to de-escalate his anger… but, what brought this on?? The Taser was within his reach, but he seemed to want to hurt her with his bare hands.
“Chuck, you are a powerful man. May I touch your cock? I’d like to feel it get hard in my hands.” This stopped him for a moment, and then the disgusting smile returned to his face. He began to advance closer, but now instead of fists, he presented his limp wiener to her. As he stood inches away, his cock at her face level, she feigned admiration. “I’ll bet you’ve pleased a lot of women with that, Chuck. I feel like I’m in the presence of greatness.” It wiggled a tiny bit.
She gets it. She knows my power, and she can’t wait for me to give it to her, Chuck thought.
---
Christine thought, “The balance of power is shifting” as she dared to smile a secret smile.
As she reached to touch his dangling worm, she considered her options to escape this little man and the pathetic pit she found herself in. A plan began to form in her mind. She cradled this nasty meat with the palm of her hand, and began a slow motion stroke on the underside.
We’re not going to take it any more
The underwear loved the caress of each other’s touch, and enjoyed the exchange of thoughts between the two of them. The wonderful part of their existence was the connection with the Pure Conciousness that was the dimension they now were part of. Nothing compared to the flow of thought sharing of this dimension, and the ability to communicate without words. Their souls just knew. They coexisted with all the thoughts, prayers, fears, loves and other sorts of energy of the universe, and proximity enhanced their ability to share. And right now, what they knew for sure was that it was time to call on the forces of Pure Consciousness to bring down the firm hammer of instant karma on this Chuck guy. As this realization crystallized, the invisible plasma of this universe became alive with thought energy, and panties and underwear all over the earth logged on to this particular ping from Polly and Bart.
Immediately, the forces of Good Lingerie aligned behind the burst of energy started by these two undies, and the Cosmic Internet buzzed with excitement at the prospect of focusing infinite justice on this space-occupying piece of skid mark known as “Chuck.”
The Grand Consciousness of Panties (GCP) heard their pleas. In the Undies Universe, GCP was recognized as the spiritual leader. Her power was unmatched, and her wisdom was respected and sought out by panties everywhere. Within moments, GCP connected to the call from Polly and Bart, and responded. She immediately and intuitively understood the need to act quickly to neutralize the negative actions of Chuck.
“Grand Consciousness, how can we make him stop? What power do we have over three dimensional life forms? Especially nutcase three dimensional carbon life forms? We are but thoughts and emotions; he is composed of protons, neutrons, electrons and quarks.”
Big Momma replied with her instant energy message, shared with all undies of the world, “The power you need exists in both our dimension and the three dimension world. You must harness that power to disable this useless loser. You must never consider yourself helpless. Within you lies the answer to all problems, and you can choose how to use that power. But first, you must get out of your pattern of thinking like skimpy thong string panties. Get your power from thinking differently. You must no longer be the skimpy panties. You must reinvent yourself as Big Girl Panties. When you imagine yourself as the Big Girl Panties, you will have a power to accomplish what you never thought you could. You can--and must--be what you visualize yourself as being.”
The panties and undies of the universe were stunned with the wisdom and practicality of Grand Conciousness’ message. And, the strategy began to crystallize across the universe instantly. The Thought began as a seed that comprised two words: STATIC ELECTRICITY! All panties knew that they had this power, particularly with carbon life forms standing on wool carpets. It was all about transferring electrons and creating a differential electrical charge on the skin. The combined forces of universal consciousness immediately began transferring electrons to Chuck’s body, making him into an increasingly negatively charged storehouse for all those electrons that were channeled his way. In most cases, shocks from static electricity result in relatively minor jolts. In this case, however, the Undies were pissed. Unbeknownst to him, Chuck was accumulating voltage quickly in his body. Chuck was about to experience a static electrical shock of a scale that only a few people have ever experienced.
Charm the snake
Christine reached out and touched Chuck’s limp manhood with the fingertip of one hand as she cradled it with the other hand. With her best feminine Texas accent, she whispered, “This is the biggest cock I’ve ever seen. What does it feel like to be so big?”
“It is?” Chuck replied. He really didn’t know. It didn’t seem especially big to him, but surely this little red-headed tart would know. “I mean, it’s always been that way, I guess I’m just used to it.” He liked the way this girl touched him, and he began to feel a tingle all over his body. It had an electrical quality to it, like nothing he’d experienced before. So this is what it’s like to be with a woman! He closed his eyes to enjoy her touch. “Grab that big cock, baby, make it do tricks for you.”
With Christine’s left hand, she did indeed wrap her fingers around this disgusting member. But with her right hand, she reached for the Taser, placing it behind her when his eyes closed.
Polarity
GCP revealed some Undies Truth to her followers: “You are watching the Yin and Yang of the Universe regain balance. Soon the negative will touch the positive, and they will find a way to equalize their power. Humans constantly seek pleasure even as they seek to avoid pain. By accepting pleasure, they increase their risk of pain when the pleasure is withdrawn. By avoiding pain, they miss opportunities for pleasure. Thus, imbalance occurs, and they hurt one another by seeking and avoiding. Our misguided Chuck is about to reap the reward of inflicting pain in order to seek his own pleasure.
Electrons Rock
Chuck was enjoying this. He could literally feel the hair on his body stand on end as his dick got a bit harder. He loved the feel of her hand on his cock, and the slow strokes she used to arouse him. In fantasy, this would be where he’d grab the Taser and teach her to respect him. As he began to reach for it, he felt her let go of him. As he touched the metal table the Taser had been lying on, he suddenly felt a tremendous jolt of a thousand stings hit his body and arc through his spine, momentarily causing him to lose control of his bladder and leg muscles. In an instant, Chuck thought to himself, “Is this what sex is like? I’m not so sure I like this!” The flow of electricity hit him like he was standing in front of a runaway truck headed downhill with increasing speed and force.
---
Christine took her hands off of his cock and now had the Taser in hand, and pointed it at her tormenter just as he suddenly stiffened his whole body and his legs began to crumble. A stream of urine formed from his dick. She yelled at him, “Here’s a bucket of Shut The Fuck Up” as she pulled the trigger, and she saw the most amazing sight: An arc of electricity flowed not only from the Taser, but simultaneously several other arcs appeared between Chuck and the carpet, the table and even the light fixture above. Did I somehow turn this to an extra-high setting? she wondered. Before her, the spectacle unfolded in what seemed like slow motion. Chuck was enveloped in a halo of electrical fluorescence and crackling as if he were a giant mutant firefly minus wings, and every muscle in his body contracted, causing him to launch on an involuntary leap into the air. Now he was literally flying as he glowed, and his little Buddha cock stiffened into a lightning rod of sorts, sending out sparks and bolts of electricity along the path of leaking urine.
I think this is a good time to leave, Christine thought as she grabbed her most of her clothes, and bolted out the door, up the stairs, and into his musty laundry room. She quickly dressed (minus panties and bra), then ran out of the house to a neighbor’s where she called the sheriff.
There’s a new sheriff in town
Thor had sat down with this Cheesy hippy woman at the office to interview her, when one of the dispatchers stuck her head in the door and told him of the 911 call that had just come in from Christine. Units were already headed to the scene. “I want to go, too,” Cheesy pleaded, and Thor said sure, strap yourself in and we’ll go for a ride. He figured maybe Cheesy could calm this Yemanja woman, who was likely to be a whimpering crybaby by the time he got there.
Thor turned on the siren and lights; that’s always a turn-on to women, and Thor loved to have turned-on women in his car. This Cheesy girl wasn’t bad, and he suspected that turning on a redhead might be especially fun.
Two other officers were already on scene when Thor pulled up. Sitting on the step of the neighbor’s house was a lovely looking redhead being interviewed by one of the deputies. Thor assumed that that was Yemanja. She did not appear to be crying. In fact, she appeared to be very much in control of herself. Cheesy jumped out and ran to meet her, and Christine stood and embraced her. In spite of never meeting before, they recognized one another and were instantly bound in friendship. Thor watched for a moment as their braless boobs smooshed together. His mind began to wander.
“Come see this, Thor,” the other deputy said. He took him into Chuck’s house, and down the stairs into the pit, where some medics were attending to Chuck. There was the distinct smell of fried bacon in the room, and Chuck was naked, hairless and incoherent. He didn’t look like the typical rapist, but Thor knew by now that there is nothing typical about criminals except that they are often not too bright. Then Thor noticed the strangest thing. Where Chuck’s dick should have been was a little nub of glowing, smoking flesh. This Yemanja girl had really done a number on the perp! He looked at the other deputy, and they both laughed. “Man, this guy tangled with the wrong woman! He brings new meaning to 'hunka hunka burnin love'.”
They then heard a faint voice in the room. It was Chuck, barely audible. They leaned towards him, and heard him say, "That was one hot woman!"
Back up on the front lawn, Thor approached Cheesy and Yemanja, who were both chatting excitedly. Cheesy turned as Thor approached, and introduced him to Christine. “Good to meet you Ms. Yemanja. Sorry I wasn’t here sooner, but it looks like you managed to take the law into your own hands without us,” he said, noticing distinct nipplage protruding through the tops worn by both of the women.
Thor suddenly felt something, like a voice in his head whispering, You need to get to know these two women, Thor. A power inhabited him, and he gazed at these two wonderful looking women in front of him. Without thinking he said, “Perhaps we should get together for a glass of wine this evening, and debrief.”
The two women smiled, and without a word, he knew their answer was, “yes.”
…To be continued…
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Revenge of the Underwear, Part 1
To my readers: This is another installment in the life of Thor. As usual, this chapter stands on its own, but may or may not be part of a larger story.
For those who are new to my blog, be warned that this will have some adult content. It also has some disgusting content. Really, I do not recommend this to anybody. Be warned. Go somewhere else. Get a life!
The dream
Thor was on hands and knees on the clear sheet of ice. He peered into the crystal clear water below the ice and saw his childhood self playing in a surreal underwater view. He could see himself below running with friends, playing cowboys and Indians, posing in childish machismo. From above, he could see his joy, his state of innocence; he felt like he was soaring without gravity. But then he suddenly felt his own weight above the scene, saw cracks form on the ice around his hands, and--in a swift moment--he fell through the ice sheet into the frigid water and descended slowly towards the bottom. As he clawed at the water trying to return to the surface, he awoke from this dream, choking and gasping for air.
Thor rolled off of his bed and headed to the shower and thought that this might be a good day to kick somebody’s ass. These dreams were getting stranger and stranger.
…
Be careful where you pee
Christine had been driving for hours, taking the back roads from Winnemucca up into Oregon. The coffee was taking its toll, so when she saw the empty gas station with a porta-potty at
the side, she stopped to relieve herself. Not the best facility, but it would have to do. She jumped out of the car and seated herself inside in less than 10 seconds. As the pee flowed from her body, she heard a couple of cars pass by, and the wind they created slightly rocked the plastic outhouse. After some delicate wipes of her delicate parts, Christine pulled her skimpy panties back up to cover her precious womanhood. The panties enjoyed their role in life: caressing, warming and protecting that Special Mound of Femininity. In a prior life, those cotton fibers had been a teenage, geeky college freshman… . Suffice to say, karma is a funny thing.
Christine was relieved indeed when she opened the bright door of the yellow porta-potty to get back to her own car and resume the trip northward. Suddenly, she sensed a man nearby, and she felt a hand holding fabric to her mouth. As she inhaled the pungent fumes on the fabric, she went limp, and quickly lost consciousness. Those panties held on for dear life, every fiber of their body knew this couldn’t be good.
…
Work Ethic
Thor arrived at the sheriff’s station in a better mood after a cup of coffee and a shower. The world—at least, this part of the world—seemed at peace. He expected to have another quiet day of patrolling the highways and byways of southeast Oregon, with not much to do but pull over attractive women and harass them. One other deputy was coming on shift with Thor, and they met in the briefing room (which doubled as a break room and bullshit room) to get the “watch out for this” report from the Lu. Lieutenant Ketchum arrived with a handful of printouts and began running through the list of Officer Safety Alerts, runaways, stolen vehicles and basketball pools.
“Thor,” Lu began the last bit of business before the beginning of patrol, “we had a call about a half hour ago from someone who says there’s a suspicious empty vehicle out at that abandoned gas station on Highway 140. Run by there and see what’s going on first thing, OK?”
“I’m on it Lu!” and the shift was underway for real.
As he left the station and began his way to the location of the suspicious vehicle, he was on alert for someone to harass, but he came up empty. He did see Big Tom walking along the highway, probably straggling back home from another binge at a local tavern. BT’s name had seemed odd to Thor until he had to arrest him for disorderly conduct about a year ago. BT is about 5 foot 2 inches, not the usual height for someone with "big" in his name. All was revealed when, at the jail, they had to do a strip search before throwing him in the slammer. Tom was, indeed, big.
Thor was reflecting on this (unconsciously adjusting his own package in the process) when he pulled up to the gas station beside the small car with Texas license plates. The driver’s window was down, and there were a couple of pieces of luggage on the back seat. This did not look right. After radioing in the license plate, Thor called out to see if anybody was nearby, but got no answer. On the ground, Thor saw what looked like a surgical dressing. He picked it up carefully, and noticed a faint smell of something medicinal. Then he heard his call signal on the radio. He responded, and the dispatcher asked him to call her from his cell phone.
“This is Thor, what’s shakin?”
“Thor, I have a call from a woman in Eugene reporting that a friend of hers--who was coming to visit from Texas--has not checked in by phone. The caller doesn’t know the license plate, but this may be connected to your suspicious vehicle. Do you want me to patch her through to your cell phone?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“This is officer Fridleif. Who am I speaking with?”
“My name is Cheese.” Oh great, thought Thor.
“How can I help, Ms. Cheese?”
“I’m worried about my friend Christine Yemanja. She was coming to visit me here in Eugene. Since she’s never driven this route, we had an agreement that she’d check in by phone at least every four hours. But she didn’t call this time. It’s been 8 hours now. She would not have skipped two call-ins.”
Thor figured that this was another one of those hippie tree-huggers that Thor left Eugene to escape. Fuckers! “Do you have any description, of her or her car?”
“Well, not much. She and I had never met. I do know that she’s a redhead. I know that she was born in Brazil, so maybe she has an accent. I believe she’s quite attractive.”
Thor’s level of interest in this case jumped up a notch with that piece of information. He stepped close to the empty car and leaned in to look for anything that might explain what had happened. “You’d never met? What is your relationship to her?” A purse was on the floor of the passenger side of the car.
“This is going to sound a bit strange, but she and I met online. We’ve been reading each other’s blogs for quite a while. I’m a redhead too, and she and I have a mutual online friend here in Oregon. We were going to meet this guy and to talk about a business venture.”
"What sort of business?" Thor asked.
"Ummm, specialty lingerie and intimate wear."
Thor thought that he’d heard just about everything, but this was something new, for sure. As he imagined himself joining two redheads for coffee to talk about underwear, he noticed that there was a strand of long red hair on the back of the driver’s seat. This was beginning to look like a crime scene. Thor thought that two redheads could heat coffee to boiling just by being in the same room.
“Ms. Cheese, I’m probably going to need more information from you; can I get your phone number and call you later?”
“Of course, but is something wrong? Do you know what happened to her?”
“I think that I’m standing next to her car, abandoned beside the road. There may be foul play,” Thor told her.
“Oh my god!” Cheese said. They exchanged contact information, then Cheese added, “I’m leaving right now to come down there. I cannot sit still here knowing she might be in danger. It will take me about three hours.”
…
A wisp of cotton panty along a sea of satin skin
Christine slowly emerged from a deep, dreamless sleep. It took a moment for her to adjust to her surroundings. She seemed to be lying on a small mattress, in a tiny room with dim light. The air smelled a bit musty, like she was in a basement. She realized as she became more conscious that her bra was undone under her top, and the zipper of her jeans was open. At that moment, she became very frightened, and the adrenaline began to pump. She heard a metal door shut. She listened as footsteps receded and then seemed to climb wooden steps. It became quiet when she heard the sound of a wooden door shutting above.
Christina’s panties breathed a sigh of relief. That man had reached down and touched her precious parts when she was asleep, but he had not yet come back for more.
…
Hunting Season
At the crime scene, Thor stood by while the CSI team was en route. (The CSI team was Tom Merckle, a semi-retired ex-FBI agent who helped out with forensics if it wasn't deer hunting season.) Thor had bagged the medical gauze and the red hair, and put up yellow tape around the perimeter of the scene. He’d run the plates, and the car did come back as registered to a Christine Yemanja of Texas. On one hand Thor hated real crimes—so much paperwork and too many people involved—but on the other hand a crime with at least one good looking redhead did have some appeal. He’d see where this took him for a while.
…
The nipples sometimes lie
As Christine’s eyes adjusted to the lighting, she could see that she was actually was in a little cell in a basement. The walls were tall, made of brick, with a door made of steel bars. There was a small room to the side with a commode chair and washbasin. The ceiling was wooden, and sometimes she could hear footsteps above. She could also sense that she was being watched; after some time she realized that there were lenses positioned in the wood ceiling over both her bed and above her toilet room. As she relieved herself, she heard the footsteps on the ceiling, then she heard the wooden door close and latch, then steps down the wooden stairs, and finally the approach of footsteps close to her cell door.
“Hello my new friend. I see you’ve found the toilet. I hope that your accommodations meet your expectations,” followed by a little chuckle. “You and I are going to have a little fun here,” came the menacing voice as the cell door swung inward. Standing in front of Christina was a skinny guy with a long neck, probably about 40 years old, pretty clean cut. Holding a riding crop in his right hand, and his left resting on a holstered Taser gun, he smiled a wicked smile. "You can call me 'Chuck'." He looked kind of dorky.
Her adrenaline flowed again as she wondered what was next. Her nipples tightened and her mouth grew dry.
“You have such nice nipples when you’re scared,” he said. He extended his bony left hand and pinched her right nipple. She stood still, not knowing what her alternative was. She thought that the best thing to do for now was to go along with this guy.
“I like a guy with strong hands who knows what he wants,” she replied. This stopped him, and he looked at her quizzically. He had expected fear, and instead got some redheaded Texas charm.
Her panties felt the hidden fear. They could feel her pulse pounding. They braced themselves for what might come next. "I hope she doesn't wet me!"
“Do you suppose you could get me a drink of water? I’d be ever so appreciative.” Christine looked him directly in the eyes, using just the right dose of feminine Texas accent as she managed a demure smile and a slight forward thrust of her left nipple. He began to feel the power of her spell…
...
Amy makes karma
The big surprise for Bart was that you could be reincarnated as an inanimate object. It wasn't the norm, but it's all about energy and craving and desires that go unmet in the prior life. The rules of karma are more complex than you might think, but in general your next incarnation has a lot do to with your obsessions, and particularly what you were obsessing about at the moment of your death. Bart, it so happens, was obsessing about Amy's panties, which he found in the dryer at the dorm. She'd just pulled her clothes out, and as Bart loaded his stuff into the dryer drum, he spied her red cotten bikini panties inside and on impulse put them into his pocket for later examination.
The panty examination occurred that very night, in his dorm bed, as he sniffed them (Tide!) then rubbed them against his turgid member. He visualized doing this with Amy still inside the panties, and imagined what her skin would feel like. He so wanted to feel those folds of pussy lips surround his cock, and as he continued his masturbatory fantasy, he began to climax. It was then that the weak artery in his brain burst, and he died of cerebral hemorrhage. There were worse fates than dying during an orgasm, but this certainly took him by surprise.
The stories of a freshman found dead with panties wrapped around his cock lived on for many generations at the college.
At the moment of dying, he felt his energy falling towards the Light, and spinning out of control. His soul
was thrown around, stretched and pounded. Next thing he knew, he was a pair of panties sewn together by a child laborer in Malaysia, destined to become intimate with a very hot woman with a Brazilian cut in Texas! Bart loved his frequent contact with that patch of neatly trimmed curly red hair.
Life as Christine's panties had it's moments. It was a lot like the job of an airline pilot: hours of boredom interrupted by moments of extreme excitement.
The boredom included things like sitting. Although Bart liked wrapping himself around her bottom, it was pretty un-glamorous to be sat on, especially during her long meetings at work. And there was the occasional fart. Sheesh, he sure wasn't thinking of that when he'd been fantasizing about Amy in his last life!
Quifs were another story, however. It seemed that this woman had extraordinary vaginal muscle control, and she could sneak a pussy fart pretty much at will. Bart enjoyed that, because it was usually accompanied by some muscle movements that made life as a pair of panties worth living. He called this talent her "vaginal karaoke."
What he liked most of all was when his owner would put on the panties at a leisurely pace, then pose in front of her full length mirror to preen. She would run her fingers slowly across the fabric of the panties, sometimes pressing them into her crack and stroking her sensitive organs. He loved being caressed in this way. Sometimes, she'd bring herself to a climax, and the hot fragrance of her sexual juices would soak into his cotton being.
One of Bart's favorite evenings was the one where his owner had a male friend over. The two of them ended up on the couch, and Bart could feel that man's hand stroke her pussy through Bart's pink fabric. Boy, did she get wet then! That man pulled down her jeans, and began kissing her right through Bart. Damn, Bart nearly came for her! When the guy pulled the panty crotch aside, and entered her with his fingers, and flicked his tongue across her fiery clit, Bart felt her push her pelvis upward, then explode with moans and spasms. Bart sure as hell enjoyed that ride! Later, Bart was removed altogether and tossed on a chair, and that was the end of the evening for him. But judging from the sounds from across the room, the fun continued for quite a while with his owner.
Now, however, Bart was truly caught in a terrifying drama. He could not stand the thought of this man's hands pulling him away from her wonderland of flesh and then having to watch this intruder have his way with her.
...
I have a dream
Chuck had dreamed of this day for a long time. He'd carefully dug the pit below his home, and constructed the little jail inside. Many times, he'd imagined the control he'd have over his captives. Oh, how they would beg for him to spare them. But Chuck would play with them, forcing them to perform whorish acts upon his body. If they resisted, he would Tazer them. If they pleased him... he would demand more.
Chuck, of course, had never really experienced a woman. He found the bar scene repulsive; the women there were such sluts. Women need to be pure, but nowadays women didn't seem to know that. So, as release Chuck would collect photos of women in the panty ads for department stores such as Sears and WalMart. Those girls had no tattoos or unseemly nakedness. Chuck would spend hours imagining himself touching such women while he applied friction to his manhood and eventually found release. Sometimes he'd see dressed-up women around Klamath Falls, and imagine their undergarmets. A couple of times he even had minor car crashes as he was distracted by his fantasies. Now he was going to live out that fantasy with this red-headed tart that he'd brought home to play with. He wanted to touch a real va-jay-jay.
Chuck's briefs had been Polly in a prior incarnation.
However, Polly's other life had been as a parachute. A parachute that didn't open. All that she remembered of the last life is hearing "Here it comes! OH SHIT!" repeated over and over until that incarnation ended with a thud. Next thing she knew, she was on the shelf, wrapped up with three other pairs of men's briefs at WalMart. Somehow, this existence seemed like a sort of punishment. Not only did this guy not shower regularly, but he tended to jack off by rubbing himself through his briefs as he yelled out "Here it comes! Oh SHIT!" Polly longed for this incarnation to end.
Cotton is Fun
Chuck ordered Christine to undress. When she complied, Bart was tossed on the ground in the corner of the pit on top of the other clothes. Next thing Bart knew, a pair of mens underwear landed on top of him.
“Oh Jeeze,” said Polly to nobody in particular.
“Hey, I can hardly breathe here,” rejoined Bart.
Polly said, “Oh, sorry, but there’s not much I can do about it. But at least I’ve found another lost soul here. Believe me, I can hardly breathe ever.”
“It’s OK. I guess we both have to just ride this out, eh?” Bart replied. “By the way, you do have a nice soft fabric. Are those fibers all natural, or have you had some enhancement?”
“They’re all me, baby,” Polly said proudly. “100% cotton!”
“You know, I’ll bet you have a great heart to go with that great skin.” Bart wondered how many clever lines he could think of to hit on a pair of men’s underwear. “What’s a girl like you doing here?”
“I dunno. I guess it’s part of my spiritual journey. You might say I’m along for the ride on some sort of cosmic joke. How about you?” Polly liked Bart’s easy manner, and the way his manly fiber touched her just right.
“Me too, I guess. I wanted pussy, and now that’s pretty much all I get. That and getting drowned in a washing machine and tossed in a dryer. I must say, it feels good to finally touch someone like you. I wish you didn’t ever have to leave.”
Polly blushed beneath her charcoal color. “Ha! All I had ever wanted was to soar through the skies. Now, I spend my days riding up this asshole’s crack and getting blasted with his man-juices. You are truly a breath of fresh air for me, too
Polly and Bart exchanged names, and told each other more about their lives, present and past. The more they shared, the more they appreciated each other. As they talked, they realized that they had to do something to save Christine. Even if they died trying, there existences would have meaning. They began to talk about their plan.
To be continued.
For those who are new to my blog, be warned that this will have some adult content. It also has some disgusting content. Really, I do not recommend this to anybody. Be warned. Go somewhere else. Get a life!
The dream
Thor was on hands and knees on the clear sheet of ice. He peered into the crystal clear water below the ice and saw his childhood self playing in a surreal underwater view. He could see himself below running with friends, playing cowboys and Indians, posing in childish machismo. From above, he could see his joy, his state of innocence; he felt like he was soaring without gravity. But then he suddenly felt his own weight above the scene, saw cracks form on the ice around his hands, and--in a swift moment--he fell through the ice sheet into the frigid water and descended slowly towards the bottom. As he clawed at the water trying to return to the surface, he awoke from this dream, choking and gasping for air.
Thor rolled off of his bed and headed to the shower and thought that this might be a good day to kick somebody’s ass. These dreams were getting stranger and stranger.
…
Be careful where you pee
Christine had been driving for hours, taking the back roads from Winnemucca up into Oregon. The coffee was taking its toll, so when she saw the empty gas station with a porta-potty at
the side, she stopped to relieve herself. Not the best facility, but it would have to do. She jumped out of the car and seated herself inside in less than 10 seconds. As the pee flowed from her body, she heard a couple of cars pass by, and the wind they created slightly rocked the plastic outhouse. After some delicate wipes of her delicate parts, Christine pulled her skimpy panties back up to cover her precious womanhood. The panties enjoyed their role in life: caressing, warming and protecting that Special Mound of Femininity. In a prior life, those cotton fibers had been a teenage, geeky college freshman… . Suffice to say, karma is a funny thing.Christine was relieved indeed when she opened the bright door of the yellow porta-potty to get back to her own car and resume the trip northward. Suddenly, she sensed a man nearby, and she felt a hand holding fabric to her mouth. As she inhaled the pungent fumes on the fabric, she went limp, and quickly lost consciousness. Those panties held on for dear life, every fiber of their body knew this couldn’t be good.
…
Work Ethic
Thor arrived at the sheriff’s station in a better mood after a cup of coffee and a shower. The world—at least, this part of the world—seemed at peace. He expected to have another quiet day of patrolling the highways and byways of southeast Oregon, with not much to do but pull over attractive women and harass them. One other deputy was coming on shift with Thor, and they met in the briefing room (which doubled as a break room and bullshit room) to get the “watch out for this” report from the Lu. Lieutenant Ketchum arrived with a handful of printouts and began running through the list of Officer Safety Alerts, runaways, stolen vehicles and basketball pools.
“Thor,” Lu began the last bit of business before the beginning of patrol, “we had a call about a half hour ago from someone who says there’s a suspicious empty vehicle out at that abandoned gas station on Highway 140. Run by there and see what’s going on first thing, OK?”
“I’m on it Lu!” and the shift was underway for real.
As he left the station and began his way to the location of the suspicious vehicle, he was on alert for someone to harass, but he came up empty. He did see Big Tom walking along the highway, probably straggling back home from another binge at a local tavern. BT’s name had seemed odd to Thor until he had to arrest him for disorderly conduct about a year ago. BT is about 5 foot 2 inches, not the usual height for someone with "big" in his name. All was revealed when, at the jail, they had to do a strip search before throwing him in the slammer. Tom was, indeed, big.
Thor was reflecting on this (unconsciously adjusting his own package in the process) when he pulled up to the gas station beside the small car with Texas license plates. The driver’s window was down, and there were a couple of pieces of luggage on the back seat. This did not look right. After radioing in the license plate, Thor called out to see if anybody was nearby, but got no answer. On the ground, Thor saw what looked like a surgical dressing. He picked it up carefully, and noticed a faint smell of something medicinal. Then he heard his call signal on the radio. He responded, and the dispatcher asked him to call her from his cell phone.
“This is Thor, what’s shakin?”
“Thor, I have a call from a woman in Eugene reporting that a friend of hers--who was coming to visit from Texas--has not checked in by phone. The caller doesn’t know the license plate, but this may be connected to your suspicious vehicle. Do you want me to patch her through to your cell phone?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“This is officer Fridleif. Who am I speaking with?”
“My name is Cheese.” Oh great, thought Thor.
“How can I help, Ms. Cheese?”
“I’m worried about my friend Christine Yemanja. She was coming to visit me here in Eugene. Since she’s never driven this route, we had an agreement that she’d check in by phone at least every four hours. But she didn’t call this time. It’s been 8 hours now. She would not have skipped two call-ins.”
Thor figured that this was another one of those hippie tree-huggers that Thor left Eugene to escape. Fuckers! “Do you have any description, of her or her car?”
“Well, not much. She and I had never met. I do know that she’s a redhead. I know that she was born in Brazil, so maybe she has an accent. I believe she’s quite attractive.”
Thor’s level of interest in this case jumped up a notch with that piece of information. He stepped close to the empty car and leaned in to look for anything that might explain what had happened. “You’d never met? What is your relationship to her?” A purse was on the floor of the passenger side of the car.
“This is going to sound a bit strange, but she and I met online. We’ve been reading each other’s blogs for quite a while. I’m a redhead too, and she and I have a mutual online friend here in Oregon. We were going to meet this guy and to talk about a business venture.”
"What sort of business?" Thor asked.
"Ummm, specialty lingerie and intimate wear."
Thor thought that he’d heard just about everything, but this was something new, for sure. As he imagined himself joining two redheads for coffee to talk about underwear, he noticed that there was a strand of long red hair on the back of the driver’s seat. This was beginning to look like a crime scene. Thor thought that two redheads could heat coffee to boiling just by being in the same room.
“Ms. Cheese, I’m probably going to need more information from you; can I get your phone number and call you later?”
“Of course, but is something wrong? Do you know what happened to her?”
“I think that I’m standing next to her car, abandoned beside the road. There may be foul play,” Thor told her.
“Oh my god!” Cheese said. They exchanged contact information, then Cheese added, “I’m leaving right now to come down there. I cannot sit still here knowing she might be in danger. It will take me about three hours.”
…
A wisp of cotton panty along a sea of satin skin
Christine slowly emerged from a deep, dreamless sleep. It took a moment for her to adjust to her surroundings. She seemed to be lying on a small mattress, in a tiny room with dim light. The air smelled a bit musty, like she was in a basement. She realized as she became more conscious that her bra was undone under her top, and the zipper of her jeans was open. At that moment, she became very frightened, and the adrenaline began to pump. She heard a metal door shut. She listened as footsteps receded and then seemed to climb wooden steps. It became quiet when she heard the sound of a wooden door shutting above.
Christina’s panties breathed a sigh of relief. That man had reached down and touched her precious parts when she was asleep, but he had not yet come back for more.
…
Hunting Season
At the crime scene, Thor stood by while the CSI team was en route. (The CSI team was Tom Merckle, a semi-retired ex-FBI agent who helped out with forensics if it wasn't deer hunting season.) Thor had bagged the medical gauze and the red hair, and put up yellow tape around the perimeter of the scene. He’d run the plates, and the car did come back as registered to a Christine Yemanja of Texas. On one hand Thor hated real crimes—so much paperwork and too many people involved—but on the other hand a crime with at least one good looking redhead did have some appeal. He’d see where this took him for a while.
…
The nipples sometimes lie
As Christine’s eyes adjusted to the lighting, she could see that she was actually was in a little cell in a basement. The walls were tall, made of brick, with a door made of steel bars. There was a small room to the side with a commode chair and washbasin. The ceiling was wooden, and sometimes she could hear footsteps above. She could also sense that she was being watched; after some time she realized that there were lenses positioned in the wood ceiling over both her bed and above her toilet room. As she relieved herself, she heard the footsteps on the ceiling, then she heard the wooden door close and latch, then steps down the wooden stairs, and finally the approach of footsteps close to her cell door.
“Hello my new friend. I see you’ve found the toilet. I hope that your accommodations meet your expectations,” followed by a little chuckle. “You and I are going to have a little fun here,” came the menacing voice as the cell door swung inward. Standing in front of Christina was a skinny guy with a long neck, probably about 40 years old, pretty clean cut. Holding a riding crop in his right hand, and his left resting on a holstered Taser gun, he smiled a wicked smile. "You can call me 'Chuck'." He looked kind of dorky.
Her adrenaline flowed again as she wondered what was next. Her nipples tightened and her mouth grew dry.
“You have such nice nipples when you’re scared,” he said. He extended his bony left hand and pinched her right nipple. She stood still, not knowing what her alternative was. She thought that the best thing to do for now was to go along with this guy.
“I like a guy with strong hands who knows what he wants,” she replied. This stopped him, and he looked at her quizzically. He had expected fear, and instead got some redheaded Texas charm.
Her panties felt the hidden fear. They could feel her pulse pounding. They braced themselves for what might come next. "I hope she doesn't wet me!"
“Do you suppose you could get me a drink of water? I’d be ever so appreciative.” Christine looked him directly in the eyes, using just the right dose of feminine Texas accent as she managed a demure smile and a slight forward thrust of her left nipple. He began to feel the power of her spell…
...
Amy makes karma
The big surprise for Bart was that you could be reincarnated as an inanimate object. It wasn't the norm, but it's all about energy and craving and desires that go unmet in the prior life. The rules of karma are more complex than you might think, but in general your next incarnation has a lot do to with your obsessions, and particularly what you were obsessing about at the moment of your death. Bart, it so happens, was obsessing about Amy's panties, which he found in the dryer at the dorm. She'd just pulled her clothes out, and as Bart loaded his stuff into the dryer drum, he spied her red cotten bikini panties inside and on impulse put them into his pocket for later examination.
The panty examination occurred that very night, in his dorm bed, as he sniffed them (Tide!) then rubbed them against his turgid member. He visualized doing this with Amy still inside the panties, and imagined what her skin would feel like. He so wanted to feel those folds of pussy lips surround his cock, and as he continued his masturbatory fantasy, he began to climax. It was then that the weak artery in his brain burst, and he died of cerebral hemorrhage. There were worse fates than dying during an orgasm, but this certainly took him by surprise.
The stories of a freshman found dead with panties wrapped around his cock lived on for many generations at the college.
At the moment of dying, he felt his energy falling towards the Light, and spinning out of control. His soul
was thrown around, stretched and pounded. Next thing he knew, he was a pair of panties sewn together by a child laborer in Malaysia, destined to become intimate with a very hot woman with a Brazilian cut in Texas! Bart loved his frequent contact with that patch of neatly trimmed curly red hair.Life as Christine's panties had it's moments. It was a lot like the job of an airline pilot: hours of boredom interrupted by moments of extreme excitement.
The boredom included things like sitting. Although Bart liked wrapping himself around her bottom, it was pretty un-glamorous to be sat on, especially during her long meetings at work. And there was the occasional fart. Sheesh, he sure wasn't thinking of that when he'd been fantasizing about Amy in his last life!
Quifs were another story, however. It seemed that this woman had extraordinary vaginal muscle control, and she could sneak a pussy fart pretty much at will. Bart enjoyed that, because it was usually accompanied by some muscle movements that made life as a pair of panties worth living. He called this talent her "vaginal karaoke."
What he liked most of all was when his owner would put on the panties at a leisurely pace, then pose in front of her full length mirror to preen. She would run her fingers slowly across the fabric of the panties, sometimes pressing them into her crack and stroking her sensitive organs. He loved being caressed in this way. Sometimes, she'd bring herself to a climax, and the hot fragrance of her sexual juices would soak into his cotton being.
One of Bart's favorite evenings was the one where his owner had a male friend over. The two of them ended up on the couch, and Bart could feel that man's hand stroke her pussy through Bart's pink fabric. Boy, did she get wet then! That man pulled down her jeans, and began kissing her right through Bart. Damn, Bart nearly came for her! When the guy pulled the panty crotch aside, and entered her with his fingers, and flicked his tongue across her fiery clit, Bart felt her push her pelvis upward, then explode with moans and spasms. Bart sure as hell enjoyed that ride! Later, Bart was removed altogether and tossed on a chair, and that was the end of the evening for him. But judging from the sounds from across the room, the fun continued for quite a while with his owner.
Now, however, Bart was truly caught in a terrifying drama. He could not stand the thought of this man's hands pulling him away from her wonderland of flesh and then having to watch this intruder have his way with her.
...
I have a dream
Chuck had dreamed of this day for a long time. He'd carefully dug the pit below his home, and constructed the little jail inside. Many times, he'd imagined the control he'd have over his captives. Oh, how they would beg for him to spare them. But Chuck would play with them, forcing them to perform whorish acts upon his body. If they resisted, he would Tazer them. If they pleased him... he would demand more.
Chuck, of course, had never really experienced a woman. He found the bar scene repulsive; the women there were such sluts. Women need to be pure, but nowadays women didn't seem to know that. So, as release Chuck would collect photos of women in the panty ads for department stores such as Sears and WalMart. Those girls had no tattoos or unseemly nakedness. Chuck would spend hours imagining himself touching such women while he applied friction to his manhood and eventually found release. Sometimes he'd see dressed-up women around Klamath Falls, and imagine their undergarmets. A couple of times he even had minor car crashes as he was distracted by his fantasies. Now he was going to live out that fantasy with this red-headed tart that he'd brought home to play with. He wanted to touch a real va-jay-jay.
Chuck's briefs had been Polly in a prior incarnation.
However, Polly's other life had been as a parachute. A parachute that didn't open. All that she remembered of the last life is hearing "Here it comes! OH SHIT!" repeated over and over until that incarnation ended with a thud. Next thing she knew, she was on the shelf, wrapped up with three other pairs of men's briefs at WalMart. Somehow, this existence seemed like a sort of punishment. Not only did this guy not shower regularly, but he tended to jack off by rubbing himself through his briefs as he yelled out "Here it comes! Oh SHIT!" Polly longed for this incarnation to end.Cotton is Fun
Chuck ordered Christine to undress. When she complied, Bart was tossed on the ground in the corner of the pit on top of the other clothes. Next thing Bart knew, a pair of mens underwear landed on top of him.
“Oh Jeeze,” said Polly to nobody in particular.
“Hey, I can hardly breathe here,” rejoined Bart.
Polly said, “Oh, sorry, but there’s not much I can do about it. But at least I’ve found another lost soul here. Believe me, I can hardly breathe ever.”
“It’s OK. I guess we both have to just ride this out, eh?” Bart replied. “By the way, you do have a nice soft fabric. Are those fibers all natural, or have you had some enhancement?”
“They’re all me, baby,” Polly said proudly. “100% cotton!”
“You know, I’ll bet you have a great heart to go with that great skin.” Bart wondered how many clever lines he could think of to hit on a pair of men’s underwear. “What’s a girl like you doing here?”
“I dunno. I guess it’s part of my spiritual journey. You might say I’m along for the ride on some sort of cosmic joke. How about you?” Polly liked Bart’s easy manner, and the way his manly fiber touched her just right.
“Me too, I guess. I wanted pussy, and now that’s pretty much all I get. That and getting drowned in a washing machine and tossed in a dryer. I must say, it feels good to finally touch someone like you. I wish you didn’t ever have to leave.”
Polly blushed beneath her charcoal color. “Ha! All I had ever wanted was to soar through the skies. Now, I spend my days riding up this asshole’s crack and getting blasted with his man-juices. You are truly a breath of fresh air for me, too
Polly and Bart exchanged names, and told each other more about their lives, present and past. The more they shared, the more they appreciated each other. As they talked, they realized that they had to do something to save Christine. Even if they died trying, there existences would have meaning. They began to talk about their plan.
To be continued.
Monday, December 11, 2006
New Adventure of Thor
Note to readers: Many of my long time readers will recall the postings about the adventures of Thor. In this story, Thor’s life takes a very different turn, but there may be some minor references to the prior posts.
For those who like only short posts, you’ll probably want to skip this one. This is basically for me, to practice my fiction writing skills. If you do read on, please feel free to be my critic.
The first thing that Thor noticed was the drool at the corner of his mouth, dripping onto the pillowcase. Noticing drool upon awakening meant that those nerve endings in his face were the first to wake up. His mind was not yet on board, but slowly his sensory systems booted up and he became aware of his clothes, the pillow, and the fresh pine smells coming in through the window. Next came the awareness of his erection, straining against the jeans he'd slept in, quickly followed by a feeling of fullness in his bladder. He could hear a light rain outside punctuated by the sound of his cell phone ringing.
As his frontal lobe began to come online, his cognition started to kick in slowly. The first thoughts were confused and disoriented. He didn’t know for sure where he was, or why he was there. In fact, it took a few moments longer than usual to even be sure who he was. It was one of those sleeps: so incredibly intense and deep that he awoke with amnesia for the previous hours. The erection was good, but the bladder would need to be dealt with soon. As men do so many times in life, he wondered if could he point the thing downward and accurately hit the toilet. This might be a sit down affair.
It took a minute or two, but then Thor began to recall the dream he’d had. Some vivid weird dream about being caught on an elevator with a bunch of whiney women during an earthquake. Or was it a dream? Thor was so out of it that for a moment he wasn’t sure if he was a motel maintenance man, or a county sheriff deputy. He opened his eyes, and realized that he was in his own cottage. The gun belt was on the chest of drawers, with his star-shaped badge lying next to it. What the fuck was that dream all about? Thor was not much for introspection, but that was one really weird-ass dream. It was so real. Thor would spend much of the afternoon having flashbacks to the dream, and wondering whether or not his memories were real or not.
Suddenly, the lights came on in his brain and Thor realized he needed to attend to two matters right away: the phone and the bladder. The bladder was quite urgent, but then again the phone had to take precedence.
“Hey Thor, hope I didn’t wake you up,” the Lieutenant said.
“Like you fucking care,” Thor replied. Thor liked the Lieutenant, and his comment was just standard operating language.
“I do care, Thor. I’m one sensitive fucking asshole. You know that.” The Lieutenant had been married 3 times, and currently lived in a double wide with a woman who always wore black clothes, and usually had green or purple hair. She was some kind of reformation project for the Lu, and besides, he needed a place to live after the lawyers for his three ex’s took half of half of half of everything he had. “I need you to come in early, dude. Craig wrecked his fucking cruiser yesterday, and hurt his back. We’re down on patrols this weekend.”
“What time is it?”
“2:30. Need you by 3:30.”
“It’s not like I have a big night planned. And the overtime would be sweet,” Thor thought. But he said, “Fuck, that really cuts into my play time, Lu.” No use letting him off easy. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
The lieutenant could hear Thor pissing into the toilet while multi-tasking on the phone. “Don’t forget to shake it, asshole,” and the lieutenant clicked off the line. Thor had a weird, troubling thought go through his brain as he stepped into the shower. Something about pussies making the rules.
Thor loved this job. He used to work in a “big” city police department in Eugene, but when that department went to computers in the car, Thor had had enough. He didn’t go into police work to look at a computer screen all shift. Besides, those fucking tree-hugging, anarchic hippies in Eugene didn’t seem to appreciate the need for rules. “No rules” was their motto, and the natural conclusion is that no police were necessary. Unless of course their fucking mountain bikes got stolen, then it was a different story. So Thor quit to take a job in this eastern Oregon sheriff’s substation, and he never looked back. This was a place where nothing much in the way of crime ever really happened. Sure, there were the regular car wrecks, usually with beer cans scattered around the wreckage. There was some burglary. And the occasional domestic dispute.
Oh, and the Al Qaeda terrorist training camp nearby made for great job security. Now his little substation was at the forefront of the war on terror. The idiots at the Congressional Budget Office now thought that the government needed to pour money into the southeast Oregon sheriff’s departments to make sure the nasty terrorists didn’t get a foothold on the motherland. Of course, it helped that Bly was the only place on the continental US that the Japanese successfully inflicted casualties by bombing in WWII. Now the sheriff’s dept. was flush with money, and not a whole lot of terrorist fighting to do.
Much of his job was to appear to look like a cop to the public while playing like a cop with his co-workers. Since nothing significant ever seemed to happen, they had lots of opportunities to add some comic relief to their jobs. Fortunately, most of the other deputies in this area shared Thor’s love of jacking people around, and the Lu mostly looked the other way unless a formal complaint was filed.
One of Thor’s favorite tricks was to pull over hot looking women that he’d notice on the highway.
Thor to blonde, “Ma’am, do you know why I’m pulling you over?”
Blonde to Thor, slightly nervous, “No officer, I thought I was going the speed limit.”
Thor would say, “Ma’am, we’ve had a report of a robbery nearby, and you meet the description of the suspect. Please step out of your car, and keep your hands in plain sight. Come over to the side of my cruiser.”
Most women freak out with this suspicion cast on them, and comply with tears welling up in their eyes. Thor liked to scare pretty women, it sort of broke the monotony of the job. “Ma’am, can you tell me where you were about 30 minutes ago?”
The answers were usually to the effect of they were driving, but no matter, his response would be the same. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to rule you out as a suspect. The robber was identified as having a tattoo of an eagle on her left breast, so I need you to let me investigate.” This is said with the command voice that cops are taught to use, and most women complied without complaint. Some had to raise their tops and some unbuttoned their blouses. Thor would carefully inspect the breast, and pronounce the woman innocent. Or, depending on the body language of the woman, or how bored Thor was, he might say something like, “I’m afraid that your bra is covering too much. I’ll need to unhook it and see underneath the fabric.” That was a dangerous game, usually reserved for shaking, crying women who probably had some crime to hide.
He’d always make a big scene of declaring the woman free to go, and usually they’d just be glad they weren’t hauled into the Oregon justice system. Thor never tired of weeping women and their breasts.
---
He was only a few hours into his patrol when the call came in about an intruder at Bette Flykas’ home. Bette was a favorite of the cops, she worked in a little café along the highway and was good for stories and caffeine. She’d put a lot of miles on her life, but still had a sparkle and bravado that cops could relate to. She was also nutty about her health, with a handful of food supplements, pills and vitamins to take with every opportunity. Thor guessed that the hypochondria also fed her high strung, slightly hysterical personality. They’d get calls from her every so often to report an intruder, but it was always a raccoon, squirrel or bat making noise in her little cabin. The cops were OK with calls from Bette, because she was always so grateful, and usually they’d get comped on a meal the next time they stopped by the café.
Thor arrived at the scene at the same time as Carlos, another deputy who enjoyed Bette's flair for life. Bette met them in the driveway and said that when she got home, about 30 minutes after dark, she heard the back door slam and was pretty sure it was somebody going into the house, not out. Thor and Mike conferred outside the cabin, and decided to make a real show of “clearing” the house. In other words, they’d do all the shit the TV cops did.
Carlos got on the patrol car speaker and announced loudly: “We have the house surrounded. If you do not come out now with your hands up, we will come get you. Surrender now.” This pleased Bette as the announcement reverberated through the woods.
Silence from the house. Guns drawn, the two deputies approached the house in a semi crouch. They split, with Carlos going around to the back door. Thor made entry at the front door, opening the door slightly, then, nudging it open all the way with his Glock. He jumped into the room in a combat crouch. He spun around ready to fire, hoping he didn’t accidentally blast a chipmunk. He glanced out the window, and saw that Bette was enjoying through the window the professional manner that her house was being searched.
In the back of the house, Thor could hear Carlos call out, “Laundry room clear!”
Thor called back, “Living room clear! I’m headed to the bedroom.”
“I’m headed to the kitchen,” was Carlos’ call-back.
Thor entered the bedroom, gripping his pistol with both hands, aiming upward to the ceiling. He crouched to look under the bed, the only real furniture in the room. He noticed that ol’ Bette wore red cotton underwear, judging from the panties on her bed. “Clear under the bed!” he yelled.
“Pantry clear!” from Carlos.
Thor moved along the wall to the closet door. He swung it open, and beheld an incredible sight: A man crouching in the closet in the nude, holding a pistol! Now in the movies, the cop would have leveled the Glock at the guy’s head, with a bead of red laser beam centering on the forehead. In the movie, the cop would have calmly taken the perpetrator down, smoothly cuffing him. In Bette’s bedroom, it was a bit different. Thor screamed like a little girl from his surprise and fear, and yelled, “You fucker!”
At the same moment, the naked guy began to stand and he screamed like a little girl. There was a sudden chorus of squeeeeeeee-aaaaaahhhhhhh-weoooeeeooooeee at ear-splitting decibels.
Naked Guy dropped his gun on the floor and raised his hands, but when it hit the floor the pistol discharged. Thor’s immediate response was to squeeze a round from his gun, but the bullet passed by the naked guy and blew a nice ventilation hole in the wall. Meanwhile, the bullet from the dropped gun apparently wounded Naked Guy, and a piece of his flesh bounced off of Thor’s shoulder. By then, Carlos arrived, threw the perp to the ground, and cuffed him as a pool of blood formed under his prone naked body. Actually, the cuffing was pretty smooth, might even have been movie-worthy. Thor got on the radio and called for the ambulance and the State Police shooting team. Damn fucking asshole, the paperwork was going to be unbelievable. Thor hated paperwork.
Thor and Carlos worked to provide first aid to a wound near the guy’s crotch. Thor feared the worst, but really at this point felt this guy deserved whatever Fate had dealt him. Fortunately, the paramedics were close by, and they took over after only a few minutes.
The Lieutenant arrived soon after, and when he saw Thor a broad smile broke across his face; not the usual response to a shooting. At that moment, Carlos finally had a moment to face Thor, and he began laughing. The paramedics looked up, and they both joined the laughter. Thor had no clue, so he just said, “What’s so fucking funny?”
Carlos grabbed a little mirror from Bette’s wall, and brought it to Thor. Caught behind one of the points of Thor’s badge was a cleanly severed male sex organ. For once in his life, Thor was stunned into silence. As the paramedics wheeled the perp out of the room on the gurney, one of them—the redheaded female medic to be precise—reached over with a gloved hand and grabbed the member. “We might need this.” She winked and was on her way.
This little event was the talk of damn near every police agency in the region for quite some time. A month later, when doing his police-required target practice at the firing range, Thor fired his first practice round and was greeted by 25 little girl howls from his fellow lawmen, and clobbered with 25 dildos of every shape, size and color. Life was good!
[Note: this story concept is adapted—OK, pretty much stolen—from comedian Mike Armstrong. If you ever get a chance to hear him perform, I highly recommend that you do so. Believe me, it’s better when he tells his version of this story in person.]
For those who like only short posts, you’ll probably want to skip this one. This is basically for me, to practice my fiction writing skills. If you do read on, please feel free to be my critic.
The first thing that Thor noticed was the drool at the corner of his mouth, dripping onto the pillowcase. Noticing drool upon awakening meant that those nerve endings in his face were the first to wake up. His mind was not yet on board, but slowly his sensory systems booted up and he became aware of his clothes, the pillow, and the fresh pine smells coming in through the window. Next came the awareness of his erection, straining against the jeans he'd slept in, quickly followed by a feeling of fullness in his bladder. He could hear a light rain outside punctuated by the sound of his cell phone ringing.
As his frontal lobe began to come online, his cognition started to kick in slowly. The first thoughts were confused and disoriented. He didn’t know for sure where he was, or why he was there. In fact, it took a few moments longer than usual to even be sure who he was. It was one of those sleeps: so incredibly intense and deep that he awoke with amnesia for the previous hours. The erection was good, but the bladder would need to be dealt with soon. As men do so many times in life, he wondered if could he point the thing downward and accurately hit the toilet. This might be a sit down affair.
It took a minute or two, but then Thor began to recall the dream he’d had. Some vivid weird dream about being caught on an elevator with a bunch of whiney women during an earthquake. Or was it a dream? Thor was so out of it that for a moment he wasn’t sure if he was a motel maintenance man, or a county sheriff deputy. He opened his eyes, and realized that he was in his own cottage. The gun belt was on the chest of drawers, with his star-shaped badge lying next to it. What the fuck was that dream all about? Thor was not much for introspection, but that was one really weird-ass dream. It was so real. Thor would spend much of the afternoon having flashbacks to the dream, and wondering whether or not his memories were real or not.
Suddenly, the lights came on in his brain and Thor realized he needed to attend to two matters right away: the phone and the bladder. The bladder was quite urgent, but then again the phone had to take precedence.
“Hey Thor, hope I didn’t wake you up,” the Lieutenant said.
“Like you fucking care,” Thor replied. Thor liked the Lieutenant, and his comment was just standard operating language.
“I do care, Thor. I’m one sensitive fucking asshole. You know that.” The Lieutenant had been married 3 times, and currently lived in a double wide with a woman who always wore black clothes, and usually had green or purple hair. She was some kind of reformation project for the Lu, and besides, he needed a place to live after the lawyers for his three ex’s took half of half of half of everything he had. “I need you to come in early, dude. Craig wrecked his fucking cruiser yesterday, and hurt his back. We’re down on patrols this weekend.”
“What time is it?”
“2:30. Need you by 3:30.”
“It’s not like I have a big night planned. And the overtime would be sweet,” Thor thought. But he said, “Fuck, that really cuts into my play time, Lu.” No use letting him off easy. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
The lieutenant could hear Thor pissing into the toilet while multi-tasking on the phone. “Don’t forget to shake it, asshole,” and the lieutenant clicked off the line. Thor had a weird, troubling thought go through his brain as he stepped into the shower. Something about pussies making the rules.
Thor loved this job. He used to work in a “big” city police department in Eugene, but when that department went to computers in the car, Thor had had enough. He didn’t go into police work to look at a computer screen all shift. Besides, those fucking tree-hugging, anarchic hippies in Eugene didn’t seem to appreciate the need for rules. “No rules” was their motto, and the natural conclusion is that no police were necessary. Unless of course their fucking mountain bikes got stolen, then it was a different story. So Thor quit to take a job in this eastern Oregon sheriff’s substation, and he never looked back. This was a place where nothing much in the way of crime ever really happened. Sure, there were the regular car wrecks, usually with beer cans scattered around the wreckage. There was some burglary. And the occasional domestic dispute.
Oh, and the Al Qaeda terrorist training camp nearby made for great job security. Now his little substation was at the forefront of the war on terror. The idiots at the Congressional Budget Office now thought that the government needed to pour money into the southeast Oregon sheriff’s departments to make sure the nasty terrorists didn’t get a foothold on the motherland. Of course, it helped that Bly was the only place on the continental US that the Japanese successfully inflicted casualties by bombing in WWII. Now the sheriff’s dept. was flush with money, and not a whole lot of terrorist fighting to do.
Much of his job was to appear to look like a cop to the public while playing like a cop with his co-workers. Since nothing significant ever seemed to happen, they had lots of opportunities to add some comic relief to their jobs. Fortunately, most of the other deputies in this area shared Thor’s love of jacking people around, and the Lu mostly looked the other way unless a formal complaint was filed.
One of Thor’s favorite tricks was to pull over hot looking women that he’d notice on the highway.
Thor to blonde, “Ma’am, do you know why I’m pulling you over?”
Blonde to Thor, slightly nervous, “No officer, I thought I was going the speed limit.”
Thor would say, “Ma’am, we’ve had a report of a robbery nearby, and you meet the description of the suspect. Please step out of your car, and keep your hands in plain sight. Come over to the side of my cruiser.”
Most women freak out with this suspicion cast on them, and comply with tears welling up in their eyes. Thor liked to scare pretty women, it sort of broke the monotony of the job. “Ma’am, can you tell me where you were about 30 minutes ago?”
The answers were usually to the effect of they were driving, but no matter, his response would be the same. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to rule you out as a suspect. The robber was identified as having a tattoo of an eagle on her left breast, so I need you to let me investigate.” This is said with the command voice that cops are taught to use, and most women complied without complaint. Some had to raise their tops and some unbuttoned their blouses. Thor would carefully inspect the breast, and pronounce the woman innocent. Or, depending on the body language of the woman, or how bored Thor was, he might say something like, “I’m afraid that your bra is covering too much. I’ll need to unhook it and see underneath the fabric.” That was a dangerous game, usually reserved for shaking, crying women who probably had some crime to hide.
He’d always make a big scene of declaring the woman free to go, and usually they’d just be glad they weren’t hauled into the Oregon justice system. Thor never tired of weeping women and their breasts.
---
He was only a few hours into his patrol when the call came in about an intruder at Bette Flykas’ home. Bette was a favorite of the cops, she worked in a little café along the highway and was good for stories and caffeine. She’d put a lot of miles on her life, but still had a sparkle and bravado that cops could relate to. She was also nutty about her health, with a handful of food supplements, pills and vitamins to take with every opportunity. Thor guessed that the hypochondria also fed her high strung, slightly hysterical personality. They’d get calls from her every so often to report an intruder, but it was always a raccoon, squirrel or bat making noise in her little cabin. The cops were OK with calls from Bette, because she was always so grateful, and usually they’d get comped on a meal the next time they stopped by the café.
Thor arrived at the scene at the same time as Carlos, another deputy who enjoyed Bette's flair for life. Bette met them in the driveway and said that when she got home, about 30 minutes after dark, she heard the back door slam and was pretty sure it was somebody going into the house, not out. Thor and Mike conferred outside the cabin, and decided to make a real show of “clearing” the house. In other words, they’d do all the shit the TV cops did.
Carlos got on the patrol car speaker and announced loudly: “We have the house surrounded. If you do not come out now with your hands up, we will come get you. Surrender now.” This pleased Bette as the announcement reverberated through the woods.
Silence from the house. Guns drawn, the two deputies approached the house in a semi crouch. They split, with Carlos going around to the back door. Thor made entry at the front door, opening the door slightly, then, nudging it open all the way with his Glock. He jumped into the room in a combat crouch. He spun around ready to fire, hoping he didn’t accidentally blast a chipmunk. He glanced out the window, and saw that Bette was enjoying through the window the professional manner that her house was being searched.
In the back of the house, Thor could hear Carlos call out, “Laundry room clear!”
Thor called back, “Living room clear! I’m headed to the bedroom.”
“I’m headed to the kitchen,” was Carlos’ call-back.
Thor entered the bedroom, gripping his pistol with both hands, aiming upward to the ceiling. He crouched to look under the bed, the only real furniture in the room. He noticed that ol’ Bette wore red cotton underwear, judging from the panties on her bed. “Clear under the bed!” he yelled.
“Pantry clear!” from Carlos.
Thor moved along the wall to the closet door. He swung it open, and beheld an incredible sight: A man crouching in the closet in the nude, holding a pistol! Now in the movies, the cop would have leveled the Glock at the guy’s head, with a bead of red laser beam centering on the forehead. In the movie, the cop would have calmly taken the perpetrator down, smoothly cuffing him. In Bette’s bedroom, it was a bit different. Thor screamed like a little girl from his surprise and fear, and yelled, “You fucker!”
At the same moment, the naked guy began to stand and he screamed like a little girl. There was a sudden chorus of squeeeeeeee-aaaaaahhhhhhh-weoooeeeooooeee at ear-splitting decibels.
Naked Guy dropped his gun on the floor and raised his hands, but when it hit the floor the pistol discharged. Thor’s immediate response was to squeeze a round from his gun, but the bullet passed by the naked guy and blew a nice ventilation hole in the wall. Meanwhile, the bullet from the dropped gun apparently wounded Naked Guy, and a piece of his flesh bounced off of Thor’s shoulder. By then, Carlos arrived, threw the perp to the ground, and cuffed him as a pool of blood formed under his prone naked body. Actually, the cuffing was pretty smooth, might even have been movie-worthy. Thor got on the radio and called for the ambulance and the State Police shooting team. Damn fucking asshole, the paperwork was going to be unbelievable. Thor hated paperwork.
Thor and Carlos worked to provide first aid to a wound near the guy’s crotch. Thor feared the worst, but really at this point felt this guy deserved whatever Fate had dealt him. Fortunately, the paramedics were close by, and they took over after only a few minutes.
The Lieutenant arrived soon after, and when he saw Thor a broad smile broke across his face; not the usual response to a shooting. At that moment, Carlos finally had a moment to face Thor, and he began laughing. The paramedics looked up, and they both joined the laughter. Thor had no clue, so he just said, “What’s so fucking funny?”
Carlos grabbed a little mirror from Bette’s wall, and brought it to Thor. Caught behind one of the points of Thor’s badge was a cleanly severed male sex organ. For once in his life, Thor was stunned into silence. As the paramedics wheeled the perp out of the room on the gurney, one of them—the redheaded female medic to be precise—reached over with a gloved hand and grabbed the member. “We might need this.” She winked and was on her way.
This little event was the talk of damn near every police agency in the region for quite some time. A month later, when doing his police-required target practice at the firing range, Thor fired his first practice round and was greeted by 25 little girl howls from his fellow lawmen, and clobbered with 25 dildos of every shape, size and color. Life was good!
[Note: this story concept is adapted—OK, pretty much stolen—from comedian Mike Armstrong. If you ever get a chance to hear him perform, I highly recommend that you do so. Believe me, it’s better when he tells his version of this story in person.]
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Thor, Chapter 4
This resumes the story of Thor's day. Other episodes provide some context to this episode, and the links are on this post.
I have found that Thor writes his own story, with little regard to what I think his story should be. In this episode he took me away from gratuitous sex (which is of course where I prefer to spend my life). In fact, there is only a tiny bit of peripheral sex. Instead, he focuses on another theme that he needed to say something about. It's longish, so if you're in the mood for a quickie, this might not be the post for you. (But feel free to get in touch directly and I'll see if I can help in the quickie department.)
Prelude
Three years before, Kimberly was walking with her youngest daughter, spending some precious time together before her teen was to leave to join the military. They were in the park, enjoying one of those perfect New York spring days near the capital city, sharing one another's company. Kimberly was fearful: for herself, and for her daughter. But this day was a nice break from worries.
Quite unexpectedly, the two were suddenly surrounded by a flock of white butterflies that seemed to come from nowhere. They'd never seen anything like it before, and many of the butterflies landed on them. The butterflies' tiny feet clung to their skin and clothes, and they felt like they were indeed experiencing hundreds of butterfly hugs and kisses. The moment was supernatural, and they felt a calmness and peace as the butterflies touched, stayed a few minutes, then flew on their way. It was the sort of moment that left them feeling that it was a sign. They waited for the meaning to reveal itself. A few days later, it did.
---
Now
In the elevator, Wendy took Thor's joke well, and said with a smile, “Mr. Thor, if you want to know how I learned to masturbate, you need to buy me a dinner and drink.” Which brought another round of laughter.
Then another voice was heard from the back of the elevator. This time it was Mindy. “Hey, this sex talk is all fine, but honestly, I do not like being trapped in here at all. I don’t like small places, and I’d really appreciate it, Mr. Thor, if you’d get us the hell out.”
Thor knew that all these people were wanting him to get them out, but he was not at all sure how he would do that. The elevator was trapped between floors, so the doors were in automatic lockdown. And if they tried to climb out of the top and another earthquake hit, someone would surely get hurt.
Mindy appeared to be genuinely distressed, and Thor suspected that she had some sort of anxiety problem that was making all of this worse for her. He didn’t know what to say.
---
In the parking lot, another scene continued to unfold. “DUDE!” Liz thought. She wanted to say the word, but at the moment her mouth was full of Auggie’s manhood, not to mention his ejaculate, so speaking was out of the question. And to make things worse, the roof of the car had been crushed down just enough that she was unable to lift her head out of this predicament. She was literally trapped on Auggie’s extraordinary manhood, and unable to extract herself from this odd impalement. It somehow seemed to Liz like a metaphor for her life: she had been feeling lately like she was gagging on her own life, wanting more of something, but stuck on what she had. Now that she had the biggest cock she'd ever seen in her mouth, she couldn't wait to get it out. She had to get on with her life, but this big dick had her stuck.
“Dude!” Auggie moaned. Auggie’s car seat had been reclined, and he was pinned down with his back to his seat. All that he could see was the interior roof of the car an inch or so from his face. And Auggie was a bit confused about what had just happened. The wheels of his brain were turning, but the cogs--if his brain indeed had cogs--were not engaged. He knew he’d seen the parking lot lamp falling on their car, and he knew that he’d just had an awesome orgasm in Liz’ mouth, but he wasn’t sure exactly how to connect the dots between the two, or if the dots were even meant to be connected. He was aware, however, that her mouth was still working his hard staff, and in spite of his restricted movement, it felt good. She seems to want more. Go figure.
---
Back
in the elevator, another woman spoke up. This was the lady in the silly mask. “You know, we don’t have it so bad here ladies and gentlemen.” She was wearing some sort of bluish gown, and a mask that looked like the beak of a mutant woodpecker. All eyes turned to her. Her companion also turned, wearing his stupid pig mask. “You are all afraid, and your fears are making your moments here worse than dying. Have courage; enjoy this time we all have together. This is a gift. I'm really enjoying listening to all of you.”
Mindy spoke up again. “Listen Bird Girl, we may be dying here for real! I want out, and I want to see sky and see my boyfriend, and I want all this to end. This might be my last day on earth alive, and I sure as hell do not want to spend it in this stupid metal box. I might as well be in my coffin right now!”
Bird Woman replied, “That is exactly my point Mindy.” She had obviously read Mindy’s nametag. “You are afraid of dying here, afraid of not seeing your boyfriend again. What you should be doing is living every moment here as if it is your last day on earth.”
“That’s stupid,” Mindy said. “This is not my idea of how I want to spend my last day!”
“But Mindy, you’ve had your whole life up until now to be ready for your last day, and now you're complaining that you're not ready. Maybe that day has come now, maybe not, but all you have now are these moments. Why not live them?”
Sarah interrupted the dialogue between Bird Woman and Mindy, and said, “Well, one thing’s for sure: In this stupid little town, every day might as well be the end of the world. You either face that fact, or you end up stuck. At least you have a boyfriend Mindy; every guy that I meet is a complete waste of carbon atoms.”
Mindy’s posture changed to defiant, and she said, “Well, my boyfriend Auggie sure wouldn’t stand there like Mr. Thor and do nothing. He’d sure as hell find a way to get me out of this. He loves me so much. If I’m going to die, I want to die in his arms.”
---
As Mindy was sucking the air out of the elevator, Liz was still trying to remove Auggie’s manhood from her mouth. She tried to maneuver it with her tongue, but every time she attempted to reposition him that way, he responded with throbs and more hardness. She sure as hell did not want to die here with Auggie’s dick in her mouth.
Auggie, on the other hand, was thinking that if he was going to die, this wasn’t a bad way to go. And Liz sure acted like she loved it! God, she's still playing with me even when we're trapped in this stupid car. What a sex fiend. Much hotter than Mindy.
Liz then remembered something she’d seen on TV: there was a story about a hiker who had gotten his arm caught between two giant boulders. Unable to get help, far from civilization, he had saved his life by cutting off his own arm with his pocketknife. Maybe Auggie wouldn’t miss a few inches of his oversized rod…
---
“Mindy, sometimes the only way to really live is to live like you are dying.” Bird Girl’s tone was steady and calm in the face of Mindy’s rising voice. “Do you see this guy here?” Bird Girl ask
ed, pointing to the guy with the idiotic pig mask. Pig-guy raised his hand to shoulder height, as if called on in class. “I never could have found this wonderful soul and fantastic lover if I had not taken control of my dying, and devoted myself to living a positive life.”
Mindy was having nothing of this. “That’s psycho-babble bullshit Bird Girl. Of course we are all dying, but I am talking about now. I do not want to die now in this stinkin can. You can have that pig you call a 'wonderful soul.' And this fucktard engineer has not a clue how to save us.”
Thor fixed his eyes on Mindy, and wondered how long she’d last in the pit he’d created in his basement. Maybe he’d provide a tiny amount of food, and just enough water. He imagined that she’d break down and beg him to save her every day. That would be sweet music to his ears. “Look, MIN-dee,” he said with a disdainful tone, “I know the emergency procedures. The doors lock down, and the service hatch should not be used unless there is an immediate threat to life. The best course is to wait for help to arrive.”
Bird Girl’s voice filled the void. “Well, it is true that we all are dying. But in my case it was absolutely real, just like being trapped in this elevator car is real to you.” Bird girl’s voice was somehow calming. “Let me tell you a bit about myself: You know what my first memory is?” she asked rhetorically. “My first memory is of a man being sent away from our front door by my mom when I was less than two years old. It turns out that that was the last time I saw my dad."
"My next vivid memory is of a man inserting his finger into my vagina when I was four. My mother was a drunk and my stepfather a drug addict, and he’d sold me to one of his friends in order to get a fix.” For a moment, it seemed as if nobody in the elevator was breathing. “My life went downhill from there. As a child, all that I experienced was myself being used, beaten and humiliated. The only thing that kept me going was the need to protect my little brother."
"As I grew older, every day was an exercise in survival, both physically and mentally. By 15, I was admitted to a psychiatric facility, followed by foster care. The night I left foster care, I was raped at gun point by three men. I had just turned 16."
"As the years rolled out, I had three kids, each with different fathers. What I realize now is that each of those men, as well as the others, were really part of my search for my father. One thing I never did, though, was short-change my kids. I was there for them, and I sacrificed for them."
"I was unsuccessful finding my father, mostly because my mother had continuously lied to me about his whereabouts until about three years ago. By that point in my life, my body had already nearly given out. I was taking 23 different medications for multiple diseases, including leukemia and systemic lupus. I was disabled, and I’d had operations to remove failing organs; it seemed like it was only a matter of time. It was then that I got a call from my mother, telling me that my father's obituary was in the paper. I read the paper, and found the location of his memorial service just in time to make the drive and arrive as it started. I felt like my last hope had disappeared, but at least I was able to shed tears at the funeral."
"I was able to meet his family, and they got to know me. They told me that he'd tried for years to find me, but again my mother's lies had misdirected him. But here's the extraordinary thing: I spoke to his sister, who was with him at the moment of his death. We pinpointed the instant that his soul left his body, and it turned out it was the exact time that I had had a flock of butterflies land on me days before. It was as if to say, ‘You matter, Kimberly. I am with you.’”
“It felt like my last shred of hope had died with him. I could not seem to just live my life. I wanted to be safe, and happy, and healthy, and I couldn't. And Mindy, what you don’t see is that your life only exists in the moment you are in right now. This moment is a miracle, and a gift. You should use it and enjoy it.” Thor noticed Pig-man’s hand reach unobtrusively to Bird Girl’s rear end, and give her ass a little squeeze. She had a nice ass.
“You look pretty healthy to me,” Sarah said.
“Thank you. But the truth is, my blood tests all look just as they did 4 years ago. The difference is, I’m living on my terms. Do you want to know what happened to get me to this healthy, happy state?”
All heads in the room nodded yes.
“What I decided,” Bird Girl continued, “was that I would die on my terms. In effect, I committed suicide to the sick, disabled, unhappy me. I killed the woman who had been denied, molested, sick, abandoned. I stopped taking my medicines, one by one, sold all my possessions, gave up my car, changed to my maiden name, and moved away. But I also made a decision: For the rest of my days, every thought would be positive, every sunrise would be cherished, I would smile and I would enjoy what ever peace I could find. I waited to die, but I was determined to die with a smile."
"I ended up living in a small apartment in a new city. An odd thing happened. Each day, I felt a little better. Tiny improvements. I built on each of those positive feelings--no matter how small--and continued to reject any negativity. I turned everything into a positive. Before long, I was able to take a job in an art store. And I began again to paint and write and my other creative outlets. I returned to my faith, and visited the sick and dying in our faith community to support them with their journeys. Each day was a gift, each moment was cherished. I rejected negativity. I made a list of things I wanted to do. Not someday, not eventually, but each day, each part of each day. And I did them. I skydived, I skiied, I parasailed, I flew a plane. I saw seven sunsets in one evening thanks my dear pilot friend here in the pig mask, and each sunset was more wonderful that the last. I had never done any of those things before.”
“I felt like one of those old Eskimos who got on an ice flow to drift out to sea and die on his melting raft of ice. But in my case, I landed on a beautiful island instead of sinking into the sea. Each day there is a new taste, new sights to see, new people to help and love. That is my life now. And ironically, it could still all end at any moment. The difference is, I’m dying my way. Happiness did not come to me because of something that someone else did, I created happiness for myself and those around me. I celebrate each new moment that comes to me.”
“Mindy, all that I can offer is, living comes in many forms. Think positive, use your strengths to make things better for yourself and for everyone you encounter.”
Mindy paused a moment, then said quietly, “I never thought of it that way. To be honest, seems like I’m just a pussy about dying. I am afraid. I can't seem to make my life happen. I want a good relationship, and I want nice things. There is so much I haven't done.”
“Think positive Mindy. Don't confuse gratification with happiness. And if you are a pussy, be a strong, positive pussy! Don't wait for life to happen; it is happening--you make it into a life worth living.” Bird Girl said.
Mindy thought in silence a minute more…
---
Auggie began to move his pelvis in rhythm to Liz’ tongue. Damn, this girl is insatiable.
At her end, Liz began to gag again on Auggie’s swelling rod. She had to escape, and she needed to get out of this now. She reached down to the floor to find her purse, and pulled out her little Swiss Army knife. Liz was going to take control of her life while she still had time…
---
Suddenly, slowly, deliberately, Mindy turned and faced the elevator doors. She did what nobody in the group had thought to do before: she placed her fingers in the crack of the elevator doors, and began to move them apart. She was surprised at how easy it was. She had never questioned whether those doors were actually locked down, but it turned out that they had just been waiting to be opened.
“You can’t do that, it’s breaking the rules! That door is closed for a reason!” Thor said.
Bird Girl smiled under her mask, and said, "There are miracles happening every second. Most people just don't stop to participate in them."
Mindy didn’t answer; she just continued to slide the doors apart until they were wide enough to step through. She then stepped up two feet to the elevator landing and turned to the shocked group in the elevator. She looked Thor in the eyes and said, “First of all, Thor, I’ve got the pussy, so I make the rules. Second of all, every door is made to go through.” She then turned away, and paused. She looked back one last time, and said, “Thank you Bird Girl,” then she walked out of sight towards the stairwell.
As she stepped out, a small white butterfly fluttered into the elevator, and landed on Bird Girl's shoulder.
---
Dedicated to my dear friend Kimberly; meeting her was a turning point in my life. With thanks to my SRF for being my beautiful island, full of new tastes, sights and feelings. Life is good.
I have found that Thor writes his own story, with little regard to what I think his story should be. In this episode he took me away from gratuitous sex (which is of course where I prefer to spend my life). In fact, there is only a tiny bit of peripheral sex. Instead, he focuses on another theme that he needed to say something about. It's longish, so if you're in the mood for a quickie, this might not be the post for you. (But feel free to get in touch directly and I'll see if I can help in the quickie department.)
Prelude
Three years before, Kimberly was walking with her youngest daughter, spending some precious time together before her teen was to leave to join the military. They were in the park, enjoying one of those perfect New York spring days near the capital city, sharing one another's company. Kimberly was fearful: for herself, and for her daughter. But this day was a nice break from worries.
Quite unexpectedly, the two were suddenly surrounded by a flock of white butterflies that seemed to come from nowhere. They'd never seen anything like it before, and many of the butterflies landed on them. The butterflies' tiny feet clung to their skin and clothes, and they felt like they were indeed experiencing hundreds of butterfly hugs and kisses. The moment was supernatural, and they felt a calmness and peace as the butterflies touched, stayed a few minutes, then flew on their way. It was the sort of moment that left them feeling that it was a sign. They waited for the meaning to reveal itself. A few days later, it did.
---
Now
In the elevator, Wendy took Thor's joke well, and said with a smile, “Mr. Thor, if you want to know how I learned to masturbate, you need to buy me a dinner and drink.” Which brought another round of laughter.
Then another voice was heard from the back of the elevator. This time it was Mindy. “Hey, this sex talk is all fine, but honestly, I do not like being trapped in here at all. I don’t like small places, and I’d really appreciate it, Mr. Thor, if you’d get us the hell out.”
Thor knew that all these people were wanting him to get them out, but he was not at all sure how he would do that. The elevator was trapped between floors, so the doors were in automatic lockdown. And if they tried to climb out of the top and another earthquake hit, someone would surely get hurt.
Mindy appeared to be genuinely distressed, and Thor suspected that she had some sort of anxiety problem that was making all of this worse for her. He didn’t know what to say.
---
In the parking lot, another scene continued to unfold. “DUDE!” Liz thought. She wanted to say the word, but at the moment her mouth was full of Auggie’s manhood, not to mention his ejaculate, so speaking was out of the question. And to make things worse, the roof of the car had been crushed down just enough that she was unable to lift her head out of this predicament. She was literally trapped on Auggie’s extraordinary manhood, and unable to extract herself from this odd impalement. It somehow seemed to Liz like a metaphor for her life: she had been feeling lately like she was gagging on her own life, wanting more of something, but stuck on what she had. Now that she had the biggest cock she'd ever seen in her mouth, she couldn't wait to get it out. She had to get on with her life, but this big dick had her stuck.
“Dude!” Auggie moaned. Auggie’s car seat had been reclined, and he was pinned down with his back to his seat. All that he could see was the interior roof of the car an inch or so from his face. And Auggie was a bit confused about what had just happened. The wheels of his brain were turning, but the cogs--if his brain indeed had cogs--were not engaged. He knew he’d seen the parking lot lamp falling on their car, and he knew that he’d just had an awesome orgasm in Liz’ mouth, but he wasn’t sure exactly how to connect the dots between the two, or if the dots were even meant to be connected. He was aware, however, that her mouth was still working his hard staff, and in spite of his restricted movement, it felt good. She seems to want more. Go figure.
---
Back
in the elevator, another woman spoke up. This was the lady in the silly mask. “You know, we don’t have it so bad here ladies and gentlemen.” She was wearing some sort of bluish gown, and a mask that looked like the beak of a mutant woodpecker. All eyes turned to her. Her companion also turned, wearing his stupid pig mask. “You are all afraid, and your fears are making your moments here worse than dying. Have courage; enjoy this time we all have together. This is a gift. I'm really enjoying listening to all of you.”Mindy spoke up again. “Listen Bird Girl, we may be dying here for real! I want out, and I want to see sky and see my boyfriend, and I want all this to end. This might be my last day on earth alive, and I sure as hell do not want to spend it in this stupid metal box. I might as well be in my coffin right now!”
Bird Woman replied, “That is exactly my point Mindy.” She had obviously read Mindy’s nametag. “You are afraid of dying here, afraid of not seeing your boyfriend again. What you should be doing is living every moment here as if it is your last day on earth.”
“That’s stupid,” Mindy said. “This is not my idea of how I want to spend my last day!”
“But Mindy, you’ve had your whole life up until now to be ready for your last day, and now you're complaining that you're not ready. Maybe that day has come now, maybe not, but all you have now are these moments. Why not live them?”
Sarah interrupted the dialogue between Bird Woman and Mindy, and said, “Well, one thing’s for sure: In this stupid little town, every day might as well be the end of the world. You either face that fact, or you end up stuck. At least you have a boyfriend Mindy; every guy that I meet is a complete waste of carbon atoms.”
Mindy’s posture changed to defiant, and she said, “Well, my boyfriend Auggie sure wouldn’t stand there like Mr. Thor and do nothing. He’d sure as hell find a way to get me out of this. He loves me so much. If I’m going to die, I want to die in his arms.”
---
As Mindy was sucking the air out of the elevator, Liz was still trying to remove Auggie’s manhood from her mouth. She tried to maneuver it with her tongue, but every time she attempted to reposition him that way, he responded with throbs and more hardness. She sure as hell did not want to die here with Auggie’s dick in her mouth.
Auggie, on the other hand, was thinking that if he was going to die, this wasn’t a bad way to go. And Liz sure acted like she loved it! God, she's still playing with me even when we're trapped in this stupid car. What a sex fiend. Much hotter than Mindy.
Liz then remembered something she’d seen on TV: there was a story about a hiker who had gotten his arm caught between two giant boulders. Unable to get help, far from civilization, he had saved his life by cutting off his own arm with his pocketknife. Maybe Auggie wouldn’t miss a few inches of his oversized rod…
---
“Mindy, sometimes the only way to really live is to live like you are dying.” Bird Girl’s tone was steady and calm in the face of Mindy’s rising voice. “Do you see this guy here?” Bird Girl ask
ed, pointing to the guy with the idiotic pig mask. Pig-guy raised his hand to shoulder height, as if called on in class. “I never could have found this wonderful soul and fantastic lover if I had not taken control of my dying, and devoted myself to living a positive life.”Mindy was having nothing of this. “That’s psycho-babble bullshit Bird Girl. Of course we are all dying, but I am talking about now. I do not want to die now in this stinkin can. You can have that pig you call a 'wonderful soul.' And this fucktard engineer has not a clue how to save us.”
Thor fixed his eyes on Mindy, and wondered how long she’d last in the pit he’d created in his basement. Maybe he’d provide a tiny amount of food, and just enough water. He imagined that she’d break down and beg him to save her every day. That would be sweet music to his ears. “Look, MIN-dee,” he said with a disdainful tone, “I know the emergency procedures. The doors lock down, and the service hatch should not be used unless there is an immediate threat to life. The best course is to wait for help to arrive.”
Bird Girl’s voice filled the void. “Well, it is true that we all are dying. But in my case it was absolutely real, just like being trapped in this elevator car is real to you.” Bird girl’s voice was somehow calming. “Let me tell you a bit about myself: You know what my first memory is?” she asked rhetorically. “My first memory is of a man being sent away from our front door by my mom when I was less than two years old. It turns out that that was the last time I saw my dad."
"My next vivid memory is of a man inserting his finger into my vagina when I was four. My mother was a drunk and my stepfather a drug addict, and he’d sold me to one of his friends in order to get a fix.” For a moment, it seemed as if nobody in the elevator was breathing. “My life went downhill from there. As a child, all that I experienced was myself being used, beaten and humiliated. The only thing that kept me going was the need to protect my little brother."
"As I grew older, every day was an exercise in survival, both physically and mentally. By 15, I was admitted to a psychiatric facility, followed by foster care. The night I left foster care, I was raped at gun point by three men. I had just turned 16."
"As the years rolled out, I had three kids, each with different fathers. What I realize now is that each of those men, as well as the others, were really part of my search for my father. One thing I never did, though, was short-change my kids. I was there for them, and I sacrificed for them."
"I was unsuccessful finding my father, mostly because my mother had continuously lied to me about his whereabouts until about three years ago. By that point in my life, my body had already nearly given out. I was taking 23 different medications for multiple diseases, including leukemia and systemic lupus. I was disabled, and I’d had operations to remove failing organs; it seemed like it was only a matter of time. It was then that I got a call from my mother, telling me that my father's obituary was in the paper. I read the paper, and found the location of his memorial service just in time to make the drive and arrive as it started. I felt like my last hope had disappeared, but at least I was able to shed tears at the funeral."
"I was able to meet his family, and they got to know me. They told me that he'd tried for years to find me, but again my mother's lies had misdirected him. But here's the extraordinary thing: I spoke to his sister, who was with him at the moment of his death. We pinpointed the instant that his soul left his body, and it turned out it was the exact time that I had had a flock of butterflies land on me days before. It was as if to say, ‘You matter, Kimberly. I am with you.’”
“It felt like my last shred of hope had died with him. I could not seem to just live my life. I wanted to be safe, and happy, and healthy, and I couldn't. And Mindy, what you don’t see is that your life only exists in the moment you are in right now. This moment is a miracle, and a gift. You should use it and enjoy it.” Thor noticed Pig-man’s hand reach unobtrusively to Bird Girl’s rear end, and give her ass a little squeeze. She had a nice ass.
“You look pretty healthy to me,” Sarah said.
“Thank you. But the truth is, my blood tests all look just as they did 4 years ago. The difference is, I’m living on my terms. Do you want to know what happened to get me to this healthy, happy state?”
All heads in the room nodded yes.
“What I decided,” Bird Girl continued, “was that I would die on my terms. In effect, I committed suicide to the sick, disabled, unhappy me. I killed the woman who had been denied, molested, sick, abandoned. I stopped taking my medicines, one by one, sold all my possessions, gave up my car, changed to my maiden name, and moved away. But I also made a decision: For the rest of my days, every thought would be positive, every sunrise would be cherished, I would smile and I would enjoy what ever peace I could find. I waited to die, but I was determined to die with a smile."
"I ended up living in a small apartment in a new city. An odd thing happened. Each day, I felt a little better. Tiny improvements. I built on each of those positive feelings--no matter how small--and continued to reject any negativity. I turned everything into a positive. Before long, I was able to take a job in an art store. And I began again to paint and write and my other creative outlets. I returned to my faith, and visited the sick and dying in our faith community to support them with their journeys. Each day was a gift, each moment was cherished. I rejected negativity. I made a list of things I wanted to do. Not someday, not eventually, but each day, each part of each day. And I did them. I skydived, I skiied, I parasailed, I flew a plane. I saw seven sunsets in one evening thanks my dear pilot friend here in the pig mask, and each sunset was more wonderful that the last. I had never done any of those things before.”
“I felt like one of those old Eskimos who got on an ice flow to drift out to sea and die on his melting raft of ice. But in my case, I landed on a beautiful island instead of sinking into the sea. Each day there is a new taste, new sights to see, new people to help and love. That is my life now. And ironically, it could still all end at any moment. The difference is, I’m dying my way. Happiness did not come to me because of something that someone else did, I created happiness for myself and those around me. I celebrate each new moment that comes to me.”
“Mindy, all that I can offer is, living comes in many forms. Think positive, use your strengths to make things better for yourself and for everyone you encounter.”
Mindy paused a moment, then said quietly, “I never thought of it that way. To be honest, seems like I’m just a pussy about dying. I am afraid. I can't seem to make my life happen. I want a good relationship, and I want nice things. There is so much I haven't done.”
“Think positive Mindy. Don't confuse gratification with happiness. And if you are a pussy, be a strong, positive pussy! Don't wait for life to happen; it is happening--you make it into a life worth living.” Bird Girl said.
Mindy thought in silence a minute more…
---
Auggie began to move his pelvis in rhythm to Liz’ tongue. Damn, this girl is insatiable.
At her end, Liz began to gag again on Auggie’s swelling rod. She had to escape, and she needed to get out of this now. She reached down to the floor to find her purse, and pulled out her little Swiss Army knife. Liz was going to take control of her life while she still had time…
---
Suddenly, slowly, deliberately, Mindy turned and faced the elevator doors. She did what nobody in the group had thought to do before: she placed her fingers in the crack of the elevator doors, and began to move them apart. She was surprised at how easy it was. She had never questioned whether those doors were actually locked down, but it turned out that they had just been waiting to be opened.
“You can’t do that, it’s breaking the rules! That door is closed for a reason!” Thor said.
Bird Girl smiled under her mask, and said, "There are miracles happening every second. Most people just don't stop to participate in them."
Mindy didn’t answer; she just continued to slide the doors apart until they were wide enough to step through. She then stepped up two feet to the elevator landing and turned to the shocked group in the elevator. She looked Thor in the eyes and said, “First of all, Thor, I’ve got the pussy, so I make the rules. Second of all, every door is made to go through.” She then turned away, and paused. She looked back one last time, and said, “Thank you Bird Girl,” then she walked out of sight towards the stairwell.
As she stepped out, a small white butterfly fluttered into the elevator, and landed on Bird Girl's shoulder.
---
Dedicated to my dear friend Kimberly; meeting her was a turning point in my life. With thanks to my SRF for being my beautiful island, full of new tastes, sights and feelings. Life is good.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Thor Chapter 3
Note to readers: This is the third installment of the story of Thor. Thor is a deranged hotel maintenance engineer who, in the first installment, becomes trapped in an elevator with a bunch of strangers when an earthquake strikes. The strangers are at the hotel to learn how to write journals, and they decide to talk about their journaling ideas in the elevator. In the second installment, the scene moves to the parking lot, where a young couple learn that size matters when the earthquake enhances their sexual fling. In this episode, we move back to the elevator to start learning about the occupants.
[Soundtrack: Chuck Berry’s My Ding A Ling]
Before the costumed woman could speak, a chirpy voice from the back spoke up. A fresh-faced young woman moved to the front of the elevator, turned, and addressed the assembled crowd. She had on a pink golf shirt, and white shorts. Her makeup was expertly applied, giving her blonde complexion just the right amount of blush on the cheeks. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. When she spoke, her hair bounced and her hands moved, but her perky breasts seemed to be constrained. Her nametag said, “Hello: My Name is Wendy”
Wendy began her story, “I’m glad we have this chance to share. I’d like to tell you about my journal first! At my tennis lesson this morning, I had the hardest time hitting the ball. I must have too much on my mind, because tomorrow we have the social at the country club…”
Blah, blah, blah. Thor’s ears started buzzing; he was not much interested in the country club social scene. Make her stop! Thor took a look around this miniature world he was now trapped in. What life-forms inhabited this place?? For Thor, the people around him—whether trapped in an elevator or not—were a bit like pieces on a chessboard: He understood that they had individuality and differing moves, but ultimately they were objects to Thor. Objects to be reckoned with, but without emotional involvement.
Wendy chirped on, "...and it took me hours to find a Reebok shoe that had pink piping to match my nails. I remember the first time that I ever went to that shoe store…”
Thor thought back to his first time, but it wasn’t about shoes. It had more to do with girls. Was I eleven when this happened? Thor could remember the place with clarity. At that point in Thor’s life, girls might as well have been UFOs—Thor knew very well that they existed, but he had no personal contact, and he knew nothing about their fantastic secrets. And, like UFOs, all attempts that he made for meaningful contact resulted in a vast universe of unintelligible background noise in return.
There was the occasional close encounter. One happened in the fourth grade, when Thor was sitting at his desk in school. A girl tried to pass by his desk, and on impulse he stuck his arm out to block her passage. I still remember the sensation when she collided with my arm. She was, well, soft. Warm. And he felt tingly. He didn’t know the word then, but she was feminine. Why do I remember this tiny moment so clearly? These alien beings definitely had something going on that kept Thor interested.
Thor was a thinker. He would read everything that he could get his hands on, many books that were far above his grade level. His world then was in his mind, and without actual real live girls to interact with; females were basically a creation of that mind, with no particular relationship with reality. Thor's mind-girls were angelic. They were mysteries. And they were not interested in letting males have their way with them; in fact, they were chaste and resisted every attempt to violate their sanctity. Thor was chivalrous and protective of the sanctity of his mind-girls. Thor was a protector. Of course, he had nobody to protect, but now that he was an adult, he did find it satisfying when he could unlock a door or fix a thermostat for a woman guest at the motel.
By the age when peach fuzz was replaced with real hair around his balls, Thor remained very clueless about anything to do with the reality of girls, or even with his own body. What he did know was that he’d get a boner if he would think too much about girls. Also when riding on a bumpy road. If his underwear was too tight: BONER. Or too loose: BONER. Et cetera. It was Bonerville all the time. He also knew that if he touched his dick, it would get hard. If he then put his hand around it, it would get harder. And if, when his hand was around it and he moved that hand, it felt very good. He was a believer in evolution, and it was no coincidence that men’s hands reached down to those touchable places. No need to extend past the crotch to ensure men’s survival!
He also knew—without anybody having to tell him—that having a boner in front of other people was not such a good idea. Somehow he instinctively knew that stroking his boners needed to be a very private activity, and probably not something to be over-indulged in. An inner struggle over boner indulgence was constantly ebbing and flowing inside of Thor. Thor was a bit confused by the whole boner thing at age eleven. Somehow, though, he didn’t quite connect the dots between boners and girls. He must have missed a memo regarding that concept.
Thor was unsure if he was unique in this regard, but the more he read about it, the more he became convinced that it was normal to have lots of boners. The books that had this information were not readily available, and boner facts were hard to come by, so he remained confused in spite of seeking information in books, magazines and comic books.
The literature about whether or not playing with one's self was a good or bad was ambiguous. On one hand, he read that “self abuse” would lead to a slow slide into a mental institution or criminality, or possibly to unwanted hair on the palm and blindness. His vision was getting worse, so this was not inconceivable! Other stuff he read pretty much said that “it” was just part of growing up. According to the latter theory, it seemed that the desire to stimulate oneself somehow disappeared in the late teens anyway, probably because by then boys would lose interest in touching their boners; it was just a temporary weakness of youth. The real issue for Thor was that he wasn’t quite sure what “it” was. The stuff he read about seemed to be about more than just touching himself and making boners, but he wasn’t sure what else there was to it.
All of that changed on a camping trip. Someone invited Thor on a trip to the desert on some kind of all-guy campout. It was just a bunch of dads and sons, and Thor came as a guest. A horseshoe-shaped pile of huge desert boulders in the flat of arid desert surrounded the camping spot. Almost everyone slept in the central camping area except Thor and another boy; they found a sort of a cave in the rocks, away from the others, and that’s where they decided to spend the night.
As darkness fell, they talked about pretty much everything. But at some point, the discussion moved to the subject of girls. This other boy seemed to know a lot about girls. Thor listened intently since he had little to offer on the subject, and soaked up every particle of information that he could. The boy told Thor that sometimes after he hung out with girls, he’d have to play with himself until he felt better. Thor remembered saying something lame at that point in the conversation, like, “yeah, it seems like there is a way to play with yourself that makes you feel like you’ve been with a girl, but I don’t know how to do that.”
The boy did know how, and he proceeded to tell Thor what “it” was. He told Thor that all he had to do was think nasty thoughts, and stroke his dick, and he’d find out what happened.
“Don’t stop until you feel it,” the boy told his new jackoff understudy. It must have surprised him a bit when Thor started to apply this knowledge right then and there in the dark.
Thor went to work. The lizards, moths and spiders clinging to the rock walls of the little cave all turned their heads away in deference to Thor’s efforts. The stars and the moon and the wind all held their collective breaths. And as one might imagine, at that age, at that moment, concentrating on dirty thoughts and stroking his dick until he “felt it” had magnificent results. In less than two minutes, Thor’s life changed. At the moment of transformation the wind, the stars, the moon, six lizards, two spiders and a pair of moths exhaled with Thor. The lizards, moths and spiders scurried for higher ground.
Thor noted that the prior failure to get this release was due to the fact that he'd simply quit too soon, and he’d left out the dirty thoughts part of the formula. Amazing things happen when you follow the recipe. Dirty thoughts are good thoughts! Also amazing was how dirty his thoughts could become when there was a payoff. In this first instance the feeling that consumed his body was incredible, powerful, and better than anything else he’d ever done. Also amazing was the amount of what he would later know to call his “load.” Imagine an orgasmically-denied eleven year old having his first ejaculation: the eruption covered his stomach, his face, his sleeping bag. The throbs of release seemed to go on and on, and he never since had such a huge mess to clean up. And of course, not knowing how to prepare, he’d had no tissues nearby. Thor had to sacrifice his white T-shirt to do cleanup. It’s still probably tucked underneath a rock in that little cave, waiting for a future archeologist to ponder its meaning. For the rest of the camping trip, Thor kept finding dried "stuff" on unlikely parts of his skin and clothes.
The first words out of his mouth after the Big Explosion were, “Who taught YOU how to do that??” He could not believe that this had been kept from him for so long! And his mind also went to the place of: Wouldn’t it be nice if something other than my own hand was stroking my dick! It was so simple! WHY WASN’T I TOLD ABOUT THIS?? The only other thing he remembered about the camping trip was that he could not wait to get home so that he could DO IT AGAIN.
Upon arrival home, Thor did what he would repeat thousands of times again throughout his life: he took a nice, long, private shower where he jacked off to the mental image of a soft, feminine entity floating through his mind. He learned to channel those mental stimuli into physical reactions. Those quick looks at nudist magazines, those glimpses at girls’ curves, those sneaked views up girls’ dresses to see their underwear were all the stuff that those dirty jack-off thoughts were made of. IT ALL MADE SENSE! The dots were finally connecting.
As time went on, Thor's masturbation skills increased. He also constantly upgraded to new dirty thoughts as new females passed through his existence. All of those skills will help me when I bring Monique to that special room in my basement. What never changed through the years was that girls were ultimately still creations of his mind. He also found a strange fascination with rock walls, with sleeping bags, and with white T-shirts. He new room underneath his house had all of those things, waiting for his Precious to arrive.
Meanwhile, Wendy continued her breathless tale, "... I think Robby would make a great husband. He's going into medical school in the fall, and his dad has a great job at the bank...."
Reality was just a little too close to Thor at this moment. He pondered Wendy’s preoccupation with her social life, her boyfriend, her imaginations about her future. Maybe Wendy had mind-boys in her head, just as he had mind-girls. And maybe, instead of being an object to be dealt with, she had an inner life that, with some investigation, might actually be interesting.
Thor quickly dismissed this incongruous thought, and imagined sucking her nipples. It was so much easier to use her as fodder for his dirty thoughts; why even bother with thinking of her as a person? Still, something new had just happened inside of Thor. He scanned the elevator car again, and began to wonder about the other people on board in a new way. What are their stories? How did they get here? Thor’s face bore an expression of wonder as his gaze bore absently into Wendy. Wendy stopped talking, and looked back at Thor.
“Is something the matter?” she asked?
“How did you learn to masturbate?” was his reply. Thor’s social skills were never that great, but even he knew that he should have thought this through a bit more carefully before asking.
Incredibly, though, the car erupted in laughter, including Wendy. Thor was suddenly the Elevator Comedian, and he had fans. Maybe being stuck here isn’t so bad after all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
