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Article 41 of 56
Subject: Three Variations on a Theme (ff, mf nc mc, Fm humil, CR contest entry)
From: "OddManOut Anywhere" <oddman0ut@hotmail.com>
Date: 1997/01/21
Message-Id: <19970121090250.11253.qmail@hotmail.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
[More Headers]
DISCLAIMER: The following three stories contain the words acerbic, adept,
ameliorate, apocryphal, assuage, blithe, constrict, credulous, dilatory,
egregious, fatuous, guile, hedonism, impervious, incipient, irascible,
lethargy, mundane, prolific, and redundant. If these words offend you, or if
you are not old enough to read these words in your community, then don’t read
any further.
Three Variations on a Theme
by
OddManOut
one
Sandy hunched over the computer, trying to think of what she wanted to say.
"The new Corlex series from Crayford: Now with more flexibility and a faster
speed!" That was what the company gave her, and she was supposed to figure out
a way to get a cliched old copy into something that sounded new and relevant.
So far, she’d been through "Corlex! Get more speed and flexibility for your
money!", "Crayford gives you the Corlex edge!", and "For the tough jobs, get
Corlex!" They were all either old or apocryphal. She felt like all the good
advertising lines had already been taken, and the only option left was to be
redundant.
"Working hard?" Sandy turned to see Pat’s blithe eyes peering over the walls
of her cube.
"Pat! Maybe you can help me with this." Pat was one of the major players at
Sandy’s company. She was adept at coming up with new copy, and was one of the
most prolific people in the business. It was Pat’s guile that had just sold
the Miller account, and she had been rewarded with another project that didn’t
take much time.
She came around and joined Sandy, grabbing the spare chair and pulling it up
beside her. Today, Pat was wearing a navy business dress with a white blouse.
The dress had a short hemline, and Sandy could see all the way up to her
stocking-covered thighs as Pat scooted the chair close to her. Pat’s
shoulder-length black hair had been pulled back into a bun today, providing
finishing touches to the businesswoman’s look. She leaned forward next to
Sandy, touching her arm softly with her hand. "So what’s wrong?"
"I just can’t think of any good copy" Sandy said acerbically. "I don’t think
any original good copy exists anymore." Pat cocked an eyebrow as she looked
into Sandy’s eyes. "Do you always try to think up something new when you do a
project?" "Of course!" Sandy cried. "How else am I supposed to do it? How
can *you* think up new things, just like that?" Pat put her arm around Sandy’s
shoulder and tried to assuage her. "Well, the secret is, Sandy, that you don’t
do it like that."
"You don’t?" Sandy had always assumed that Pat could came up with perfect copy
at whim. Now that she thought of it, it seemed like a somewhat fatuous idea.
"Of course not, Sandy. Here, let me show you." Pat took her hand off Sandy’s
shoulder and moved it to her leg as she drew her attention to the computer.
"Now, what you’re doing is going for the catch phrase first. What I do is
start out by writing out the rest of the ad. Then, when I’m done with that,
the hook line just seems obvious." She gave Sandy’s leg a light squeeze. "Got
that?" "I guess," Sandy said with some apprehension.
"Great!" Pat squeezed again, then looked Sandy in the eyes. "Sandy, how about
if I meet you here at five, and we’ll work on this then?" Sandy was suddenly
conscious of Pat’s hand on her leg. Pat had always been a good friend and
confidant, but Sandy had never fantasized about her. At least, not often. She
met Pat’s gaze and said "Sure. I’ll try writing up the ad this afternoon, and
I’ll meet you at quitting time. OK?" "It’s a date!" Pat said, and got up.
By the end of the day, Sandy had gone through several attempts at writing her
ad, and they all came out sounding wrong. No matter what she wrote, her copy
seemed to have a mundane character that was impervious to amelioration. Pat’s
work always seemed to reach out and grab you—Sandy’s just sat there
lethargically on the screen.
The frustration was making Sandy irascible, and by the time Pam poked her head
around the door, Sandy was letting her anger out on an innocent memo. Sandy
turned to see Pam, and snapped "Come in, I’m still trying to write this dumb
ad. I hate it." Pam pulled up a chair behind Sandy and placed her hands on
Sandy’s shoulders. As she started to give Sandy a backrub, Pam silently read
the copy on the screen.
When she was finished, Pam leaned forward until her mouth was next to Sandy’s
ear. "Sandy?" "Yes?" "Do you mind if I make a suggestion?" "Go ahead."
Sandy’s voice was flat and uncaring as she rocked against Pam’s hands. Pam
continued. "Well, what I think you need to do is look at your choice of
words."
"What’s wrong with my choice of words?" Sandy’s eyes were closed now, enjoying
Pam’s hands on her shoulders. Pam seemed to know exactly where Sandy was
tense, and which muscles to constrict to relieve these tensions. Sandy could
feel herself beginning to relax as Pam spoke. "Well, you see where it says
that ‘Crayford has been in the business for thirty years?’" "Yeah?" "Well,
you can change your wording, so that it sounds sexier." Pam’s hands left
Sandy’s shoulders and slid up her neck, slowly squeezing the tendons at the
base of her skull. Sandy was still lost. "How can it sound sexier?" Pam
thought for a second. "Why not say, ‘Crayford has been going strong for thirty
years’? It makes them sound better in bed. More manly." Pam’s hands slowly
started down the middle of Sandy’s back, pressing softly into each vertebra.
Sandy had to admit, it did sound better. She highlighted the text and typed in
the change. Pam spotted another fix. "Second sentence, second paragraph.
‘The new Corlex line dominates the competition.’" "That’s a good one." Sandy
said as she made the change. "I see one, Pam. Right here. ‘With it’s faster
speed, the Corlex presents a stiff challenge for the workplace environment.’"
Pam lit up. "That’s right! You’re getting it." Pat spread out her hands and
worked at Sandy’s sides. "Try another."
Sandy looked over her copy, feeling more confidant already. There: she could
change ‘more efficient’ to ‘stronger’. And here: instead of ‘The Corlex is
waterproof’ she could say ‘You can use the Corlex anytime, anywhere’. As Sandy
worked through her ad with renewed zest, she barely noticed Pat’s hands as they
strayed over her body.
"Wait!" Pam’s hands jerked, and Sandy was surprised to find that they were now
located just beneath her breasts. "What is it?" Sandy asked, her chest
heaving from the surprise, and the intimacy of Pam’s hands.
"You just said that Crayford has always finished one step ahead of the rest."
"Yeah?" "Well, you don’t want to imply they’re premature, do you?" "I didn’t
mean it that way, I meant—" Pam caressed Sandy’s lower ribs softly, silencing
her. "What you want to do is get the customer more credulous, not turn him
off. Okay?" "Okay."
Sandy went back to work, and Pam continued to get more intimate with Sandy’s
body. Sandy knew she should say something, but it felt too good for her to
tell Pam to stop. Pam leaned forward, and cupped Sandy’s breasts in her hands.
Sandy let out a soft moan, and stopped typing. Pam put her mouth next to
Sandy’s ear, and breathed, "Why don’t we put that aside, and take a little
break?"
Sandy could only nod her head yes as Pam undid the buttons on her blouse. When
Sandy’s blouse was half open, Pam slid a hand under the silk to squeeze her
soft globes. Sandy threw her head back and relaxed, giving herself over to the
hedonism. Pam slid a tongue into her ear, and started whispering to Sandy all
the little dreams she’d had about this moment.
"I’ve wanted to lay you back, and touch you everywhere. I’ve thought about
your tongue, and how much I wanted to feel it on my pussy. Will you tongue my
clit for me, Sandy?" Sandy could only nod, a slight smile on her face as she
imagined Pam’s taste and smell. Pam rolled her chair around, and their lips
met and parted. Sandy’s tongue caressed Pam’s as they explored each others’
mouths. Pam slid her hand down Sandy’s body, and undid the clasp on her
slacks. Snaking her hand under the elastic band, she rubbed a finger over
Sandy’s slick mound. When Sandy felt this, she went rigid with pleasure,
moaning into Pat’s mouth when Pat pressed against her button. Pat played with
Sandy’s clitoris for a few minutes, bringing her to the brink of orgasm, then
taking her hand away for the dilatory pleasure of it. Sandy whined at her,
begging Pat to let her come.
"Not yet. I want you to taste me first." Sandy looked reluctant. "I’ve never
done that before. I won’t know how." "It’s easy," Pat said as she undid her
dress. All you have to do is kiss me." Pat pulled Sandy out of the chair and
laid her down on the floor of the cube. Putting her knees on either side of
Sandy’s head, she knelt over her body and undid her slacks. She pulled the
slacks down to expose Sandy’s auburn bush, then dipped her head forward as she
lowered her cleft toward her lover’s face.
Sandy was apprehensive as she saw Pat’s vagina coming towards her, but as she
felt Pat start to lick her, the intense pleasure that ran through her nerves
cleared away her inhibitions. She took a tentative lick, and found Pat’s
fluids warm and musty, not at all egregious. Best of all, she could feel Pat
twitch slightly when she licked, and she enjoyed the power she got from it.
Both women laid on the floor, head to tail, as they licked and stroked each
other’s pussy. Pat gasped as Sandy learned to flick her clit quickly with her
tongue, and soon came with a shudder from the attention. As she came down from
the climax, she went back to Sandy’s slit with renewed fervor. Sandy, whose
orgasm was already incipient, came within a few seconds of Pat’s assault.
As she basked in the afterglow of her first lesbian climax, Sandy turned to her
tutor and said "So what words do you need to use to sell to women?"
two
Cindy blithely flounced her way home from school, her red and white
cheerleader’s skirt flapping up to reveal her unusually brief red panties. It
had been a good day for her. Today she’d been more prolific than ever: she’d
flashed her panties at five boys, and Mr. Hubble in her Geometry class! It was
so fun to tease them like that. She liked to see the reactions on their faces
when she bent down in front of them to retrieve a book she had dropped. But
she wouldn’t let them touch. Oh no. Cindy was a good girl, and she didn’t do
that kind of thing with boys.
As she rounded a corner, she almost ran into Mark. Cindy recoiled with
disgust. Mark was one of those mundane geeks, and she didn’t like the way he
looked at her when he was around. He was so vile, she probably wouldn’t even
flash her panties at him! Cindy imperviously stepped aside to try and pass
him, but Mark stepped with her. "Not so fast, little girl," he said in a low
voice. "I’ve got some business I’d like to discuss with you."
Cindy screwed up her face in a petite pout and said "You don’t have any
business with me, Mark Cody! I’m going home!" Mark gave the fatuous girl a
mean look and said "Oh yeah? Well floodlegazoom! Show me your panties!"
Cindy started to object, but suddenly her entire body felt heavier and
sluggish, like she had been submerged in a vat of molasses. From far away, she
sensed her right hand reaching down and pulling up her skirt. What was she
doing? She never wanted to show Mark her panties! She tried to stop her
egregious hands, and found that she couldn’t.
Mark watched the nubile teenager pull up her skirt in front of him and thought
"Hot Damn! That ancient book the old gypsy sold me really works!" He was
beside himself with glee. He thought for a second, then said "Okay Cindy,
gab-zub! Follow me home!" He started to walk away, and was pleased when he
saw Cindy take an awkward step to start after him. This was going to be fun.
When they arrived at Mark’s house, he made Cindy follow him down into the
basement. Cindy didn’t want to go, but Mark shouted another word at her, and
she found herself obediently descending the steps in front of him. Mark made
her sit down, then said "Cindy, kreck. Sit still." She immediately went
rigid, and Mark put out his hand and began to squeeze her breast. Whenever she
masturbated, Cindy had always imagined what it would be like for a boy to feel
her up. Now, as she felt Mark’s hand grab her tit, she bit back the tears as
she sat helpless, unable to stop him. Mark lifted her powerless arms and
pulled the short cheerleading shirt off her body. When he unfastened her bra,
her big breasts bounced free and pushed the fabric to the sides.
Mark stepped back, impressed at his work. Cindy remained motionless, but
glared at him with flinty eyes. Now that he had her at his mercy, his mind was
overflowing with ideas. Quickly he undid his pants and pulled them down to
reveal an 8-inch slab of dick. Pushing it into Cindy’s face, he said.
"Dorklegleeb, Cindy. Suck my cock."
The pretty schoolgirl looked up at him with a hateful look, but the look turned
to surprise as she involuntarily pressed her mouth into his belly button and
blew hard, making a loud raspberry. Mark stepped back in shock. That wasn’t
supposed to happen! Wasn’t ‘Dorklegleeb’ the right word? "Uh, kreck, Cindy.
Hold on a minute."
He ran upstairs, leaving Cindy to wonder what had just happened. She really
hadn’t wanted to suck Mark’s dick, but when he said that word, it seemed like
she was drawn to… something. She was relieved when she found that the urge
passed once she blew in his belly button. If only she had some way to
ameliorate that horrible urge! She was moping in her misery when Mark returned
with a grin, holding an old dusty book in one hand.
He put the tome on a nearby table and said "All right, no more mistakes.
Durklegleeb, Cindy. Suck my cock!" No sooner had the words left his mouth
then Cindy’s head shot forward and her lips clamped around the base of his
member. Her eyes were squeezed shut in disgust as she bobbed her head up and
down his shaft, sliding her tongue over the pulsing veins. Against her will,
she relaxed her throat, and took him all in, constricting her lips and sucking
hard at the base of his shaft. Mark closed his eyes and smiled as his
unwilling lover gave him a magnificent blowjob. He could feel his come rising,
and almost pulled out, then decided to stay in her and give her a little
surprise. Holding her head in his hands, he pushed his dick deeper into her
mouth, then let forth a blast of semen. Cindy’s throat muscles worked
automatically, pulling his come down her throat.
Mark waited for Cindy to suck the last traces of come from his penis, then
pulled out of her mouth, satisfied. Cindy gave him an acerbic look, but said
nothing as he wiped himself off on the sleeve of her cheerleader’s outfit. As
he zipped himself up, he smiled at the girl and said "I hope you liked that as
much as I did. You’ll be doing a lot more of it soon enough." "You’ll never
see me again, Mark!" Cindy shot back in an irascible bark. Her reaction
didn’t faze the boy, but instead a wide grin spread across his face. He leaned
down next to her and said "Corlecka, Cindy. Listen to me."
Cindy’s eyes instantly went from spiteful to lethargic, then closed as the
nubile vixen assuaged herself and turned her complete attention to what Mark
was saying.
"Now Cindy, I want you to forget everything that has happened to you since you
first met me coming home from school. Instead of coming with me, you went home
and watched television for a few hours. Tell me what you did, Cindy."
"I went home and watched television for a few hours." Cindy spoke in a low
voice, completely credulous of everything Mark was telling her.
"Right. Now, who did you flash your panties to today?"
"Five boys. And Mr. Hubble."
"Excellent. Tomorrow I want you to flash your panties to six boys, and Mrs.
Laskin." Cindy squirmed a little as he spoke, but Mark overrode her. "Cindy,
If you do not do this, I shall make you flash without panties. Do you want
that?" After a dilatory pause, she shook her head no. "Right, then you’ll do
it. Now run along, and as soon as you get home, I want you to think that you
went straight home from school, and never stopped here on the way." Mark knew
it was redundant to say this, but he wanted to take no chances.
Cindy spoke again. "I went home and watched television for a few hours."
"Exactly. And Cindy, tomorrow I want you to go by my house again on the way
home. Gerflank, Cindy. Go." The pretty blond teenager stood up and slowly
climbed the basement steps to leave the house. After he heard her shut the
door, Mark ran up the steps and looked outside the window. Cindy walked slowly
away from his house, then shook her head, cleared her eyes a bit, and flounced
away, back to her apocryphal life.
Mark grinned to himself. So far, he was only a novice at using the book, but
he was more adept at its subtleties every day. He thought of how he had gotten
Cindy to suck his cock today, and felt that it was a big step up from the hand
job she had given yesterday. With the luscious cheerleader under his control,
the incipient potential for unrestrained hedonism was growing stronger every
day. The guile of making her forget what she did ensured that she would never
tell anyone who would stop him from using her.
His head spinning with possibilities, Mark returned to the basement and pored
through the book, practicing new words which he could inflict upon Cindy
tomorrow.
three
"…Looking up at me with a sexy smile, Tiffanie said "I’ve just got to have your
hot polish sausage buried in my creamy cunt!" Her words drove me beyond the
point of all control, and I picked up her 5’5", 105 pound, 36C-20-36 body, spun
it around, and planted it on my foot-long frank. As soon as she felt my rigid
rod invade her honeyed hole, she clenched her cunt and came with an orgasmic
scream of glee…"
"Kurt?" Kurt’s head shot up. Why was he called on? He hadn’t been making any
noise! From the front of the room, the study hall teacher fixed him with a
steady gaze. "What are you reading?"
Kurt held up the study guide, with the magazine carefully placed along the
inside, away from her gaze. "I’m just working on vocabulary for the SAT,
ma’am." He wanted the words to come out smoothly, but he stumbled a little as
he spoke, and he could feel his face getting hot. He had intentionally chosen
the back corner of the room so that he would be able to read the mag without
being seen by anyone else. How had she known what he was really doing?
Too experienced to be credulous, the teacher came walking towards him.
Suddenly Kurt realized the problem: He had relaxed his fingers, and the study
guide had slipped down, exposing the colorful top edge of the magazine for all
to see. Kurt’s heart stopped. He was doomed! His parents were going to be
called about this, and he would get grounded for life! He would be the
embarrassment of the school! Three rows up, Kurt’s number-one crush Sheila
Hawkins looked back to see what was going on. When he saw her eyes widen with
recognition, he was devastated. She saw him see her, and whipped her head back
around as the Study Hall teacher came up the aisle.
She stood by his desk and looked down at him, glass-framed eyes peering over
large bosoms that Kurt had absolutely no interest in at the moment. "May I
see, please?" She held out her hand for the study guide that Kurt had closed
on his desk. Numbly he placed it in her hand. The teacher picked up the
nested guide and magazine, and quickly opened them up. Kurt noticed that she
still kept the porn magazine hidden from the rest of the class behind the study
guide. She flipped through it for a few seconds, then looked back at Kurt.
"Well, Kurt, I really don’t think that anything in this is going to help your
vocabulary much. Do you?" Kurt hung his head. "No ma’am." Her eyes bore
into his skull. "And in Study Hall, your job is to work on academic matters,
not… outside pursuits. Am I correct?" "Yes, ma’am." Why was she tormenting
him like this? "Well, Kurt, in that case I’ll have to take this—" Kurt heard
her remove the magazine from the guide, but by the time he’d whipped his head
up she’d adeptly rolled it into an unidentifiable tube-- "and leave you with
this." She placed the study guide back down on the table and walked back to
the desk. All eyes in the classroom were trying to discern exactly what had
been confiscated from Kurt, but the magazine was too tightly rolled for any
chance of identification. As she arrived at the desk, the teacher looked back
and said, "I’ll see you in my office after school, Kurt."
Standing behind the desk, she placed the magazine in a drawer and gave the
entire class an impervious stare. "I suggest you all get back to work. I
didn’t do this for your amusement you know." As they realized that the
identity of the contraband was not to be revealed, Kurt’s classmates slowly
turned back to their own work. Kurt sat at his desk, trying to make himself as
small as possible behind the study guide. The guide itself was no good.
Vocabulary was Kurt’s weak point, and all the guide did was show him a huge
list of words that *could* be on the SAT. It gave him no helpful suggestions
or shortcuts like it did in the reading comprehension section. Now, after the
embarrassment he had just received, he couldn’t concentrate at all. He sat
there in a lethargy, staring at the wall of words in front of him, seeing no
possibility of remembering any of them.
Three hours later, he was standing in front of her desk, waiting for the speech
on the evils of dirty magazines. "Sit down, Kurt." Kurt pulled up a desk from
one of the rows behind him, and warily slid into it. As he did this, the
teacher reached behind her head and undid her hair from its mundane bun.
Looking at Mrs. 801 this way, it occurred to him that his Study Hall teacher
was actually a very attractive woman. With her hair unbound, it traced its way
over her shoulders and down her back in a way that made him want to stroke it.
He looked in her eyes, and instead of seeing the hard glare of authority, he
saw a softer look of someone who was put in the uncomfortable position of
punishing someone. Actually, Mrs. 801 looked pretty sexy, for her age. She
had to be at least ten years older than his own mother, yet she retained her
womanly figure, with large supple breasts and a narrow waist. Kurt found
himself wondering if she had ever done any of the things described in the
magazine, and discovered that he was beginning to develop an erection.
"Now, Kurt. Why were you reading this," she held the magazine up from her
desk, "when you should have been studying your vocabulary." Kurt wriggled a
little in the cramped desk, stammering for the right words as he attempted to
conceal his growing bulge. "Well, I…It’s like…It’s just…It’s just that I can’t
get anything out of that study guide. Here, look." He pulled the study guide
from his bag and opened it to the vocabulary page. "All it does is give you
this huge number of words and tell you to memorize them. I can’t memorize all
these! It’s no use! At least I can understand what’s in there." Kurt aimed
an irascible eye at the magazine.
Mrs. 801 thought for a moment, then said, "There are other ways of memorizing
words, you know. Why don’t you look up the definitions, then incorporate each
of the words into a sentence? That would be better than just rote
memorization." Kurt nodded his head. "Yes, Mrs. 801." The teacher gave him
an acerbic glance, then looked away for a second. When she looked back, she
had an unusual expression on her face. She leaned forward and looked Kurt in
the eye. Kurt could smell a faint perfume on her, and had to restrain himself
from looking down her blouse.
"Now Kurt, I am not a person who is against hedonism, but I can’t have my
students blithely reading things like this in my study hall, no matter how they
try to hide it. It just doesn’t work. Now what’s usually done in this
situation is that I confiscate this magazine and make a call to your parents to
tell them of what you’ve done." Kurt’s heart sank. She was going to tell
after all. "However, in this case I think we can work out a different
solution." Kurt looked up. He was willing to do anything to keep his parents
from finding out! His mind whirled as he tried to guess what his sexy teacher
wanted for her silence.
Mrs. 801 picked up the magazine again and idly thumbed through it. "While I
was waiting for you, Kurt, I took the opportunity to read some of the stories
in this magazine." Kurt’s boner swelled. She *did* want to do it with him!
His erection assuaged as she went on. "Reading through these stories, I was
surprised at the generally egregious quality of writing in them. They aren’t
even close to erotic. The editors seem to be more interested in being prolific
than in genuine quality or plot. Did you notice that too?" Kurt nodded, but
inside he was confused. What was she getting at?
What she said next almost made him fall out of her chair. Mrs. 801 closed the
magazine, then picked up her purse and began to fumble about in it. "Now Kurt,
you know that I’m an English teacher, but I also have activities that are…
outside of the school curriculum. I act as kind of a critic for a forum on the
Internet. This forum is dedicated to stories of the kind found in your
magazine, but usually they are of much better quality."
Kurt was stunned. "You mean, like, sex stories?" Mrs. 801 gave him a warm
smile, and said, "Yes, Kurt. Exactly." He couldn’t believe it. Imagining
his teacher reading the magazine was already too much for him. Now he found
that she not only read these stories, but critiqued them as well! A glimmer of
hope went through him as he realized that the teacher might not call his
parents or write a report on his reading the magazine. After all, she did the
same thing, didn’t she?
Mrs. 801 pulled a key from her purse, and unlocked one of her desk drawers as
she continued. "Recently, I presented a kind of contest to the forum, to find
out who could write the best story given a particular constraint. Ten of these
stories were submitted to me, and I printed them out for easier reading." She
pulled a small stack of paper from the drawer and placed it on the desk. "I
have already read and ranked these stories on my own scale, but I think that in
this case, it would help to be redundant." Looking at Kurt over her glasses,
she pushed the stack towards him. "If you can read these stories, rank them,
and just write a couple of sentences on each one, defending your rank, you can
go home, and I won’t report you or call your parents. Does that seem fair?"
Kurt nodded his head quickly, eager to ameliorate his situation before she
changed her mind. "That sounds great, Mrs. 801. When should I start?" "You
can start right now, Kurt. I need to go to a teacher’s meeting, but I should
be back in two hours. If you have the stories graded by then, you can go.
Otherwise, I won’t really have any choice but to take the usual route. OK?"
Kurt reached for the stack of papers as she headed for the door. Suddenly
something occurred to him. "Mrs. 801?" She paused in the doorway and looked
back at him, eyes shining. "Yes, Kurt?" "What was the constraint?" She gave
him a quick smile and said, "Oh, nothing that really matters. You’ll see."
With that she closed the door, and Kurt heard her key turn in the lock. Kurt
stiffened, but realized that Mrs. 801 probably didn’t want anyone coming in and
seeing what she was having her students do.
Hard-on raging, he pulled the first story off the stack and began to read.
"Of all my ribald experiences, the most retentious is a chronicle of my
dalliance with the contralto of my local church choir…."
Kurt stopped reading for a second and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t understand
any of that sentence. Maybe it would become clearer later on. He struggled
through the story, trying to find the sex part.
"…Her body quavered and her resonant voice ululated as I thrust my adamant spar
into her pyrexic stope…"
Was that it? He couldn’t even tell. He put the story down and searched the
room for a dictionary. The bookshelves were filled with grammar books, books
on format, biographies, textbooks and great works, but no dictionaries. Not
even a thesaurus. He thought about going to the school library to find one,
but remembered that the door was locked. His throat constricted, and beads of
sweat began to form on his forehead as he realized the apocryphal nature of
Mrs. 801’s "compromise". She had never intended to let him off easy, it was
just a dilatory guile to prolong his agony! How could he have been so fatuous?
He cursed his teacher’s ruthlessness, but he realized that reading the
confusing stories was the only way to put off his incipient humiliation.
Wearily, he picked up the next story and began to read.
"My latest inamorata is not only blessed with flaxen hair and a pneumatic soma,
but in spirit she is also a quintessential libertine. Rarely can I contemplate
a lecherous thought that has not already been assessed by her fescennine
psyche. One forenoon, we were juxtaposed atop her divan when a rap on the
portal proclaimed the arrival of one of her cognates. For most, this would
mean the quashing of our prurient bivouac, but for my roué, it was only an
incitement to further licentiousness…."
THE ABROGATION
"It is only the great men who are truly obscene. If they
had not dared to be obscene, they could never have dared
to be great."
-Havelock Ellis
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