Ah, yes, there you are, my perverted darlings! I knew you were around here somewhere! I was getting a bit panicked, actually. They’ve really cracked down here at the old asylum, restricting visitors and online communication. (Conjugal visits are, of course, strictly forbidden to those of us here in the fuckward, but they do make occasional allowances for immediate family who may be, oh, say, dying of cancer or something. Asylum generosity is truly overwhelming…) Anyway, I looked for you everywhere. I tried all the usual places: at the dry cleaner’s, the drive-in, the old meat-packing plant. No sign of you. I checked behind the mop bucket in the janitor’s closet and under your grandmother’s bed, to no avail. Down the back alley behind the Greyhound bus station, at the top of the Empire State Building, in the newly renovated washroom at Grossman’s Tavern. Nada. I thought for sure I’d find you in that swanky hotel room in north Vancouver, but nope. I tried the wax museum. Hell, I even looked for you in church, so you gotta know I was getting desperate. And after all this, where do I find you? Why, there you were all along, stuck in my subconscious like two lines from the chorus of a childhood campfire song…
My fingers are sticky with bits of melted marshmallow as I take your hand and lead you away from the bonfire, down the beach, into the black. The residual heat from the fire warms my face and the sand is cool beneath my feet as waves slip and suck behind us in the darkness. I kneel in front of you in the sand, wrap my sticky fingers around the base of your cock, and take you into my mouth. I wrap my lips around the smooth head of your dick, run my tongue under the ridge, poke it into the tip, taste you there. A warm summer breeze and your hands in my hair, insistent, as I tighten my grip and suck you, sliding my lips down that throbbing shaft, your balls cupped in my other hand, my middle finger pressing against your asshole. Your cock hits the back of my throat and I suck you in the summer dark, the fire a match-flame in the distance. I suck you suck you suck you until you whisper-moan that you are going to come and you do, filling my mouth with hot cum, sweet as s’mores.
June 22, 2010
I am the fly.
Hey, you randy bastards, it's the Fornicator, fresh out of the dungeon and ready to slay that mighty dragon of yours. Bring the fire, baby- I can handle it. Speaking of fire, it's one hot son of a bitch in the asylum today. Those managerial motherfuckers upstairs think that extreme variations in temperature will help kill our desire. Fuck them. This heat just makes me horny, which is pretty goddamned convenient for you, isn't it?
A swollen fly buzzes lazily around my cell. We've been trapped in here for weeks together. I feed him scraps of my lunch, imagine him regurgitating up his stomach acid to dissolve the bits of meat so he can slurp them up with his sticky fly tongue. Leaning up against the cold concrete wall of my cell, the fly's somnolent buzzing fading into daydream, I think of your tongue against my naked skin, tracing its way from my lips to my neck, around the curve of my breast, flicking over my nipple. Your lips suck and your tongue teases and my breasts swell and my nipples grow taut and I slip a finger into my warm wet cunt while you suck me, biting now, twisting that hard pink bud gently in your teeth. A wave of heat surges through me and my hips push involuntarily forward, upward, and I flick my finger over my clit while you lick and suck. Our tongues meet, pulsing, warm and wet, and I come in spasms while we kiss.
As the dream fades I become aware of a panicked buzzing and I watch the fly struggle helplessly in the web he has worked so hard to avoid, watch the spider dance happily over to its plump prize and inject it with venom. The fly twitches, once, twice, and is still.
A swollen fly buzzes lazily around my cell. We've been trapped in here for weeks together. I feed him scraps of my lunch, imagine him regurgitating up his stomach acid to dissolve the bits of meat so he can slurp them up with his sticky fly tongue. Leaning up against the cold concrete wall of my cell, the fly's somnolent buzzing fading into daydream, I think of your tongue against my naked skin, tracing its way from my lips to my neck, around the curve of my breast, flicking over my nipple. Your lips suck and your tongue teases and my breasts swell and my nipples grow taut and I slip a finger into my warm wet cunt while you suck me, biting now, twisting that hard pink bud gently in your teeth. A wave of heat surges through me and my hips push involuntarily forward, upward, and I flick my finger over my clit while you lick and suck. Our tongues meet, pulsing, warm and wet, and I come in spasms while we kiss.
As the dream fades I become aware of a panicked buzzing and I watch the fly struggle helplessly in the web he has worked so hard to avoid, watch the spider dance happily over to its plump prize and inject it with venom. The fly twitches, once, twice, and is still.
April 13, 2010
Magnolias
Well fuck me sideways, look who’s here! I’m glad you’re still out there in all your throbbing purple glory. There are so few things in this world one can count on. Death. Taxes. The human libido. But I have a confession, my darling randy reader: sometimes, late at night when the other inmates are restrained in their beds, dreaming their prepubescent penile dreams, I worry that you aren’t out there. That you are no longer waiting for me, that you’ve given up and moved on. That some other girl, some other fantasy, has taken my place. And then I think, well fuck you. Who needs you anyway?
Still, I wonder where you are. What you’re wearing. What you think about when you think about me. Who am I? How long would it take me to tear the clothes from your body? Will your cock spring up at my touch? What will I taste on your tongue? The bloody steak you ate for dinner? The salt-sweet cunt you ate for lunch? Mint, and just under the mint, barely detectable but present nonetheless, the pungent tang of shit?
When you read these words, will you take your dick in your fist and imagine me bending over in front of you, my forearms resting on a desk, a table, the back of a chair? My ass smooth and round, my hair falling over my shoulders. The curve of a shoulder blade, the small of my back. Press a knee between my legs, press your warm dick into the crack of my ass, nuzzle up into that warm wetness. While you imagine fucking me from behind, will you spit in your fist and stroke your hard cock? Down to the root, squeezing, up the shaft, over the head, down, up, over, down, up, over, down. Your balls slap my ass with each thrust and my legs quiver and I moan and my asshole winks up at you as you spread my cheeks and come, smearing sticky white gobs up the crack of my ass. Will you come into your fist, a tissue, an old stiffened sock?
Magnolia trees in bloom uncurl their fragrant pink petals, open their silken cunts to the wind’s searching fingers, and I lie here alone in the asylum, my own searching fingers opening my own silken petals, and I fuck myself as the wind whispers its spring secrets and I think, well fuck you. Who needs you anyway?
Still, I wonder where you are. What you’re wearing. What you think about when you think about me. Who am I? How long would it take me to tear the clothes from your body? Will your cock spring up at my touch? What will I taste on your tongue? The bloody steak you ate for dinner? The salt-sweet cunt you ate for lunch? Mint, and just under the mint, barely detectable but present nonetheless, the pungent tang of shit?
When you read these words, will you take your dick in your fist and imagine me bending over in front of you, my forearms resting on a desk, a table, the back of a chair? My ass smooth and round, my hair falling over my shoulders. The curve of a shoulder blade, the small of my back. Press a knee between my legs, press your warm dick into the crack of my ass, nuzzle up into that warm wetness. While you imagine fucking me from behind, will you spit in your fist and stroke your hard cock? Down to the root, squeezing, up the shaft, over the head, down, up, over, down, up, over, down. Your balls slap my ass with each thrust and my legs quiver and I moan and my asshole winks up at you as you spread my cheeks and come, smearing sticky white gobs up the crack of my ass. Will you come into your fist, a tissue, an old stiffened sock?
Magnolia trees in bloom uncurl their fragrant pink petals, open their silken cunts to the wind’s searching fingers, and I lie here alone in the asylum, my own searching fingers opening my own silken petals, and I fuck myself as the wind whispers its spring secrets and I think, well fuck you. Who needs you anyway?
March 2, 2010
Salutations!
Salutations from the asylum! Jesus Christ, but it’s been awhile. Fucking seasonal affective disorder makes me all moody and lethargic. Well, that, and the fact that I pissed the night nurse off and he took away my computer privileges. He wanted a blowjob but I wasn't in the mood, what with the SAD and all, but sometimes this nurse won't take no for an answer. So I sucked him off alright, I just forgot to swallow and he ended up getting a second-hand facial. Oops. He was not amused. Makes you wonder about the way this system is set up, doesn’t it? Whose brilliant idea it was to put a bunch of perverts in charge of a bunch of perverts. It’s a wonder any of us get out of here at all. It doesn’t happen often.
So, anyway, I've done my time in solitary. I tried keeping track of how many times I fucked myself while I was down there, but I lost count. Nothing like a little masturbation to pass the time. But I'm back, and the sunshine filtering through my barred window makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and I thought I'd try to pass along some of the warm-and-fuzzy to you, my faithful fucked-up readers...
Summer air, heavy as unspoken lust. In the distance, heat lightning strikes. Villainous cumulus clouds rush in, blocking out the sun. The air between us sizzles, hisses, spits. We are alone, you and I, on this path by the river as the first pregnant drops fall, spattering the ground like so much wasted semen. Crack of thunder like a barehanded slap on the ass as the sudden rushing rain soaks us to the skin. My shirt clings to my stiffening nipples, my skirt clings to my bare thighs, I feel wetness between my legs that has nothing to do with the rain. I pull you to me in the darkness of the storm and kiss you, voraciously, wildly, I can't get enough of your lips, your tongue. Rain lashes the trees around us, whips the river into a frenzy. Your hands are on my breasts, pinching my nipples through the thin wet fabric, and I press myself into you as you run your hands down the curve of my waist and up my wet thighs and find that other wetness, slip a finger, two fingers, in. Fuck me, I plead, as thunder crashes. Fuck me fuck me fuck me and you push me backwards into a tree, I feel the wet bark rough against my back, your mouth on mine, your fingers in my cunt, I fumble with your belt and free your cock, pull it to me, pull it into me, purple and throbbing, and you fuck me up against the tree, rain pelting our faces, you fuck me fuck me fuck me as lightning rapes the sky and I cry out and you come in final violent thrusts and we are left panting and ragged and the storm rages on.
So, anyway, I've done my time in solitary. I tried keeping track of how many times I fucked myself while I was down there, but I lost count. Nothing like a little masturbation to pass the time. But I'm back, and the sunshine filtering through my barred window makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and I thought I'd try to pass along some of the warm-and-fuzzy to you, my faithful fucked-up readers...
Summer air, heavy as unspoken lust. In the distance, heat lightning strikes. Villainous cumulus clouds rush in, blocking out the sun. The air between us sizzles, hisses, spits. We are alone, you and I, on this path by the river as the first pregnant drops fall, spattering the ground like so much wasted semen. Crack of thunder like a barehanded slap on the ass as the sudden rushing rain soaks us to the skin. My shirt clings to my stiffening nipples, my skirt clings to my bare thighs, I feel wetness between my legs that has nothing to do with the rain. I pull you to me in the darkness of the storm and kiss you, voraciously, wildly, I can't get enough of your lips, your tongue. Rain lashes the trees around us, whips the river into a frenzy. Your hands are on my breasts, pinching my nipples through the thin wet fabric, and I press myself into you as you run your hands down the curve of my waist and up my wet thighs and find that other wetness, slip a finger, two fingers, in. Fuck me, I plead, as thunder crashes. Fuck me fuck me fuck me and you push me backwards into a tree, I feel the wet bark rough against my back, your mouth on mine, your fingers in my cunt, I fumble with your belt and free your cock, pull it to me, pull it into me, purple and throbbing, and you fuck me up against the tree, rain pelting our faces, you fuck me fuck me fuck me as lightning rapes the sky and I cry out and you come in final violent thrusts and we are left panting and ragged and the storm rages on.
January 29, 2010
Fuck winter.
Goddamn, it’s cold in here. From where I sit in the common room, I can hear the other patients bitching and moaning about how cold they are. Fuck the temperature; they are cold in their cunts and in their sad, lonely hearts. Plus, the bastards that run the place keep the thermostat so low it damn near freezes your tits off. Pneumonia runs more rampant here than herpes simplex virus 2, and trust me when I tell you that that is saying something. I’m so glad you could come tonight. I miss you when we aren’t together, you know. It’s no fun jacking off alone. So let’s focus on a warmer, happier time, shall we?
As I drift slowly upwards into consciousness, I become aware of the fact that I’m blindfolded and ball-gagged and bound to a hard-backed chair, my wrists behind my back and my legs apart. The wiry fibres of the cord cut into my skin, not unpleasantly, and trickles of sweat trace their way between my naked breasts. I’m drooling. It's hot as a motherfucker in here. Where the hell am I? And suddenly the beast beside me roars into life and I realize that I'm in the boiler room of the asylum, naked and sweating. And I wonder how it can be so hot down here when the rest of the place is as cold as our poor broken hearts. Dim orange light flickers through the shadows and I feel myself getting wet, feel my nipples stiffen, feel my body swell with blood in anticipation. The ropes tighten as I strain forward. The heat is unbearable.
And then there you are, my sadistic saviour in the shadows. You snag your fingers in my hair and pull my head back violently. I feel your teeth against my skin and my body convulses as you bite into the smooth pale flesh of my neck. I am delirious with pleasure. Now those teeth are on my nipples, nipping and biting and I feel your tongue, your lips sucking at me, and in this darkness and this heat my entire body is aflame. I arch my back and thrust up involuntarily, my cunt is aching to be touched, and then I feel your breath warm against my wetness and your teeth scrape my clit as you suck me while saliva trickles down my chin. I feel the rope burn through the skin of my wrists and ankles, feel the sting as blood mixes with sweat, and I come violently against my restraints in waves of savage pleasure.
I'm still moaning weakly, the taste of stale rubber on my tongue, as you remove the gag, wipe away the drool, untie my wrists and ankles and kiss me softly on the lips. I become dimly aware of the sound of your footsteps fading and I realize that I am alone here as the beast beside me ceases his roar and is silent.
As I drift slowly upwards into consciousness, I become aware of the fact that I’m blindfolded and ball-gagged and bound to a hard-backed chair, my wrists behind my back and my legs apart. The wiry fibres of the cord cut into my skin, not unpleasantly, and trickles of sweat trace their way between my naked breasts. I’m drooling. It's hot as a motherfucker in here. Where the hell am I? And suddenly the beast beside me roars into life and I realize that I'm in the boiler room of the asylum, naked and sweating. And I wonder how it can be so hot down here when the rest of the place is as cold as our poor broken hearts. Dim orange light flickers through the shadows and I feel myself getting wet, feel my nipples stiffen, feel my body swell with blood in anticipation. The ropes tighten as I strain forward. The heat is unbearable.
And then there you are, my sadistic saviour in the shadows. You snag your fingers in my hair and pull my head back violently. I feel your teeth against my skin and my body convulses as you bite into the smooth pale flesh of my neck. I am delirious with pleasure. Now those teeth are on my nipples, nipping and biting and I feel your tongue, your lips sucking at me, and in this darkness and this heat my entire body is aflame. I arch my back and thrust up involuntarily, my cunt is aching to be touched, and then I feel your breath warm against my wetness and your teeth scrape my clit as you suck me while saliva trickles down my chin. I feel the rope burn through the skin of my wrists and ankles, feel the sting as blood mixes with sweat, and I come violently against my restraints in waves of savage pleasure.
I'm still moaning weakly, the taste of stale rubber on my tongue, as you remove the gag, wipe away the drool, untie my wrists and ankles and kiss me softly on the lips. I become dimly aware of the sound of your footsteps fading and I realize that I am alone here as the beast beside me ceases his roar and is silent.
January 1, 2010
Happy fucking new year!
Well happy fucking new year! It seems like ages since I last wrote to you. My sincerest apologies for the delay, but I accidentally cut myself right before the holidays. Slipped on a banana peel during cafeteria duty and landed wrists down on a couple of paring knives. Unholy stigmata. It was the strangest goddamn thing. I couldn't do it again if I tried. I wanted to write to you, really I did, but there are no computers in the infirmary, and I couldn’t hold my wrists up long enough anyway. But here I am, back in action and horny as ever. I hope you've missed me...
My mouth is watering. I'm salivating like a good buddy of Pavlov's, and all I can think of is you. I'm wet, alone in my room, and I remember how your lips felt on my neck, how your nipples felt between my teeth, how your tits felt in the palm of my hand, so like and yet unlike my own. I cup my breasts with both hands and feel my nipples harden and I remember the first time I kissed you, how soft your lips were against mine. I remember the taste of your cunt, musky and vaguely salty, so like and yet unlike my own. I slip my fingers between my legs as I remember lapping at your clit like a hungry kitten, the way you shuddered and moaned beneath my lips as you came. And I shudder and moan and all I want is to be out of this godforsaken asylum so that I can sink my teeth into the pale smooth flesh of your neck and let your copper blood run down my throat.
My mouth is watering. I'm salivating like a good buddy of Pavlov's, and all I can think of is you. I'm wet, alone in my room, and I remember how your lips felt on my neck, how your nipples felt between my teeth, how your tits felt in the palm of my hand, so like and yet unlike my own. I cup my breasts with both hands and feel my nipples harden and I remember the first time I kissed you, how soft your lips were against mine. I remember the taste of your cunt, musky and vaguely salty, so like and yet unlike my own. I slip my fingers between my legs as I remember lapping at your clit like a hungry kitten, the way you shuddered and moaned beneath my lips as you came. And I shudder and moan and all I want is to be out of this godforsaken asylum so that I can sink my teeth into the pale smooth flesh of your neck and let your copper blood run down my throat.
November 17, 2009
salutations
Greetings from the bughouse, fuckers! The funniest thing happened to me today. It was during free time and this inmate who gets caught regularly masturbating to romance novels with long-haired he-men on the cover leans over to me, fingers knuckle-deep in her hairy old twat, and whispers, "What's the big deal with oral sex? They're always having oral sex." I nearly fell off my chair. This from the mouth of a woman who can’t keep her fingers out of her cunt and whose crimes include, well, I can’t tell you about her crimes, but believe me when I tell you that she really is fucking bonkers. Anyway, when she interrupted me I was reading my old dog-eared copy of Violette and I guess I'm feeling rather romantic tonight...
I am wet in anticipation. You are on your knees in front of me, and you give me that little wink as you lower your face to my pussy. I feel the warmth of your breath and it gives me a warm feeling in my belly. Your five o'clock shadow scrapes my thighs. You run your tongue teasingly from my asshole to my clit and it tickles and I grab your head with my hands and push you down. Quit fucking around and eat me. And you oblige, placing your hands under my ass cheeks and raising me up to you like you're drinking out of a goddamned golden chalice. My hands are in your hair as you lick me, suck me, slide your tongue along my glistening lips, a sharp intake of breath as you slip two fingers into my slit and one up my asshole. Heat radiates from the centre of my body; at this moment I am nothing but cunt. I'm panting and moaning and thrusting my pelvis up towards you as you thrust your tongue your fingers into me as you fuck me with your mouth and you focus your tongue on my clit and oh oh oh oh god I'm coming and I'm riding that glorious wave of pleasurepain and I shudder and die a sweet sweet death.
I am wet in anticipation. You are on your knees in front of me, and you give me that little wink as you lower your face to my pussy. I feel the warmth of your breath and it gives me a warm feeling in my belly. Your five o'clock shadow scrapes my thighs. You run your tongue teasingly from my asshole to my clit and it tickles and I grab your head with my hands and push you down. Quit fucking around and eat me. And you oblige, placing your hands under my ass cheeks and raising me up to you like you're drinking out of a goddamned golden chalice. My hands are in your hair as you lick me, suck me, slide your tongue along my glistening lips, a sharp intake of breath as you slip two fingers into my slit and one up my asshole. Heat radiates from the centre of my body; at this moment I am nothing but cunt. I'm panting and moaning and thrusting my pelvis up towards you as you thrust your tongue your fingers into me as you fuck me with your mouth and you focus your tongue on my clit and oh oh oh oh god I'm coming and I'm riding that glorious wave of pleasurepain and I shudder and die a sweet sweet death.
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