ABC’s of a Farewell
"Always be careful, Dear."
"Every father gets heart-sick in just knowing little-ones might need our Pops."
"Quite right", sigh.
"Tell Ursula, Veronica won't xerox yuppy zodiac articles. Bye, Crazy Daddy."
Eyes fill. Group hugs.
"Kid... love my Nookie Ookie Pookie."
"Quit ruining sappy, teary, unbelievably vulnerable, wacky, x-cellent, yearnful, zenful adieus!"
It’s Only Business
The coin was still doing its thing, somersaults in the air, and just as it lightly came to rest, "Doo-doo-doo Doo, Doo-doo-doo Doo, Doo-doo-doo Do Doooo", the phone flashed and vibrated as it rang. And her stomach turned.
She knew better than to make the car sitting outside her parents house wait. It didn't matter who was in the car. If she wasn't out there within a minute, she'd pay, dearly.
There was always at least one of the three hot entrepreneurs picking her up. There was Pauly D, their idea man. He'd suggest things sometimes just to see how far he could get Dave to go. That was always a good laugh for Pauly. Dave K was so done with dealing with other people's shit that once Pauly threw the idea about this fabulous business out there, he was all about making it happen, whatever it took. The woman, who's name was never spoken, had all the connections. And she was pure evil too. It was the woman who would gather and hold all the blackmail material on the girls. She truly reveled in showing the girls what she had and what she'd show their daddies and mommies... Some very embarrassing and compromising positions caught on camera!
But these businessmen were not about empty threats. They knew their girls and would absolutely follow through with whatever they said the consequence for disobeying would be whether it was, "we'll have your little sister doing much worse than what we have you doing" or, "we'll kill your whole fucking family" or whatever would be that particular girl's worst nightmare. One girl was shown a picture of her mother's detached head the morning after mere mention of police. It looked like a freak accident and ended up deemed as such. Dave K has skills. The mouthy girl, though upset, fell back into formation without much fuss. All the girls know this story. This girl that was coming out now, was their best whore.
This one was barely thirteen. She had long straight blonde hair. It reached those dimples right at the top of her perfectly shaped ass. She was young but had started developing the year before. An outline of what her curves would eventually look like was starting to form, as if an artist was just starting to sculpt her. Perk little almost-handful breasts still had no need for a bra. She was wildly popular with their clientele. The men would go on and on about her very hard and erect nipples and "that tight babygirl pussy".
The phone had just rung and she knew she had to get out to the car. She, as silently as she could, would sneak out the basement door. Without time to get ready to go, she'd always run out barefoot in her nightgown. She'd tiptoe, tiptoe, and do little leaps across dewy grass toward her late night and early morning horror stories. Sometimes, whoever was waiting for her in the car would have something for her to change into. That wasn't the case tonight. The clients, a room of 5-10 older horny men, most looking between 40-50, wanted her to come as is. Yes, she had another year, maybe they could eke out a year and a half, with the kind that wanted that very early pubescent stage, then she would have to be moved up to another group of clients.
There was never a need for the girls to expect monies from the people they'd see. She was bought and paid for well before getting to them. They pulled up near a hidden-away shed. She was told to go knock on the door. Inside was a couch, a table, and a special exam chair like you'd find at the gynecologist's office. Instructions to the clients were simple... They were never to leave any visible marks that couldn't be cover with clothing. That was the one and only rule. That was gone over with them when payments were being made. The girls themselves were never to speak without being asked to. The evil woman would be getting some great new material after this appointment. She always wanted copies of video and pictures that were taken. Little girl was led in and the creepy grunts and heavy breathing made her very nervous.
"Bend over the exam table", some dark haired chubby guy says.
She does. And someone quickly pulls her shirt-dress over her bum exposing white cotton panties. If any cocks weren't hard yet, that certainly helped. She remembers the feel of cold steel being slid under the crotch. She gasped. Suddenly the undies were cut off her. Not five seconds after that slit being shown, stiff cocks were rubbing all over her and in front of her. She was like a rag doll. Turned, twisted, and thrown. Put in stirrups, tied up, and examined. Stretched open, nearly split apart, and thoroughly filled. Every orifice was used to full extent. There was no care if she was dry or sore. She would eventually pass out from the pain. They kept on.
They loaded her back into the car, and asked a question. They wondered if they may be able to get her again and, "could they make a dog fuck her next time". They loved hearing that she was theirs to do as they please for that paid time.
Water was splashed on her face and she was given a towel. She was covered in cum. She would have 10 minutes to clean up before getting to her house where they'd throw this little cash cow out, to sneak back in her basement door.
"Here's your Plan-B pill. Take it now so I can watch you take it. Good little slut. Don't worry, no appointment tomorrow and the day after it's just one guy, not a group. Okay? Now run home, little piggy! Til next-time."
And her nightmare continues.
By E.E. Wilson
Should You Stay or Should You Go?
If you prefer an agreeable spouse
Refrain from calling them "louse"
Recall those past days
When love was ablaze
Or perhaps you'd just rather the courthouse
Maybe we have not become our best selves with each other.
We've become so complacent.
I want to feel special. I want to be better.
I never would have married you if I'd known you would someday tell me I'm not enough.
I only just learned of your father's recent passing. Wish I could hug you. I'm sending my most sincere condolences instead. Easter, and your birthday, may prove especially difficult and again.... if you'd let me, I would try to ease your pain.
So, here's a visual for you...
I may try my hand at making Armenian cookies and bread to celebrate the day, all the while not having any idea what I'm doing. But it'll be my little way of keeping you in my thoughts. (Possibly a rice pilaf too, if you'd tell me how you do yours.)
I would like to have known your father... especially after reading what you had so eloquently spoke at his service. Seems he was well love by all. Plus, you are of him. You, this wonderfully creative, intelligent, big hearted, lovely handsome man.
He couldn't have been anything but proud of you. Of that, I'm certain.
And I could not be more sorry for your loss.
(Please Prosers, give your opinion on if I should write this in a card and send it along with some food or Edible Arrangement. His birthday is on Easter this year and I was only going to send a "happy birthday" card until I heard his father passed in February. That card was meant to be the last thing I would send, signifying a year since our demise. Should I write happy easter and/or happy birthday at the end. Should I just not even do anything. All opinions appreciated. Thank you.)
Antisocial Ice-Cream Social
Ice cream by the beach could make anything better.
"Damn wind..." ,"now there's sand in it!"
And then, the murders began.
Lamentation of a Silly Dejected Girl
The memories are fading. It's been too long. Too long since I was in your embrace and soothed by the sound of voice.
So I'll write, to hold onto what I can.
Oh how you made me feel like a child... cherished and protected. And you also made me feel sexy and desired. I loved showering with you and letting you wash me and shampoo my hair. I loved the forehead kisses.
It's been a year now. I still mourn us. It just might take til my last breath to be free and at peace without you. So it seems.
Tears shed, in his bed
Crisp, clean, and smelling of him
Joy streams over cheeks
The most anyone heard him speak was just before the end.
"Painting these walls red".