bookreader

The plot of her novel is very simple. An individual who, to simplify, we will call A, is found dead in the library. Another individual, B, tries to discover who killed A and why. Following a series of illogical undertakings (all that was needed was the formula 3(x2-r)n-+0 and the case would have been solved from the start), B states (wrongly) that the murderer is C. Everyone seems happy with this conclusion, including C. No idea what a butler is.

Eduardo Mendoza
No Word From Gurb

fruit

One of five a day….

Pasta

Ummmmmmm, PASTA…

Satan

Currently reading…

March 6, 2015

Desperatedyke

I’m surrounded…

March 6, 2015

found

Dartboard Sex….

March 6, 2015

dartboardsex

To love you…

March 6, 2015

cross

To love you is to know hell. And yet I still do love you, despite everything…

NOCTURNE

March 6, 2015

pent

You that have heard the heartbeat of the night,
you that have heard, in the long, sleepless hours,
a closing door, the rumble of distant wheels,
a vague echo, a wandering sound from somewhere:

you, in the moments of mysterious silence,
when the forgotten ones issue from their prison –
in the hour of the dead, In the hour of repose –
will know how to read the bitterness in my verses.
I fill them, as one would fill a glass, with all
my grief for remote memories and black misfortunes,
the nostalgia of my flower-intoxicated soul
and the pain of a heart grown sorrowful with fêtes;

with the burden of not being what I might have been,
the loss of the kingdom that was awaiting me,
the thought of the instant when I might not have been born
and the dream my life has been ever since I was!

All this has come in the midst of that boundless silence
in which the night develops earthly illusions,
and I feel as if an echo of the world’s heart
had penetrated and disturbed my own.

crop

I could hear but not see Bethany. She was, uncharacteristically, begging in a high shrill voice. Certainly Calypso took pleasure hearing the girl plead on occasion – but apparently not today.

‘Shut you’re filthy whore mouth,’ she hissed. ‘If you don’t shut it, I’m going to turn your grotesque little hole into a garage – a second parking place for my Beamer. Understand me…?’

Momentary silence. Then a whimper from Bethany. Calypso today was far from being the phantom from a dream. She was pure feckin’ evil.

The hood over my head made my face sweat. I heard Bethany’s sharp intake of breath. I couldn’t see what Calypso was doing to her, but I suspected she was penetrating her with something…?

Something big?

I was almost out of my mind with anticipation. It would be my turn next. I was cuffed and hanging from the T-bar. My arms were aching; my back was aching…

Calypso started murmuring to herself in a low voice. I couldn’t make out the words. Bethany started pleading again.

‘Right, you bitch,’ Calypso almost shouted. ‘You asked for this…’

The scream was ear-piercing. It was cut off suddenly by a hand over Bethany’s mouth, or, as seemed more likely, by a gag – that evil-looking, inflatable cock gag, probably. All I could hear was Calypso grunting, as if straining with all the brute strength of her body.

‘I warned you,’ she said. ‘I’m going to stretch you…’

I could hear Bethany panting round the gag; I was convinced it was a gag now. Then silence again, followed moments later by the sound of Calypso’s high heels on the polished wooden floorboards. The hood was dragged off my head, and I blinked at the unexpected brightness.

‘You know what this is?’ she asked, holding something up for me to see.

‘Root ginger, Miss,’ I respectfully replied. ‘A piece of peeled root ginger.’ It was the length of my forefinger, but three times fatter.

‘D’you know what I’m going to do with it?’ I didn’t; but I could guess. She smiled at my guess, and said, ‘Clever boy. That’s exactly what I’m going to do…’

She walked behind me. I felt her slender fingers prising open my flesh. The insertion was strangely prolonged. I felt heat…intense heat.

‘There,’ Calypso said. ‘Just a slight warm feeling to begin, yes? But it will grow more intense, more noteworthy as time passes. And if you clench your muscles…Well, then, it burns like hell fire. When I use my crop on you, believe me, your muscles will clench on that big chunk of ginger.’

‘Thank you miss,’ I managed.

She laughed coldly. She picked up the crop from the table beside the door. Her expression was ecstatic, as if by her actions she’d somehow transcended reality…My eyes went to Bethany hanging by her wrists opposite me on a St Andrew’s Cross. She was naked, too. Her face tear stained, her mouth cruelly gagged. She looked exhausted, drained by her recent mistreatment…My own distress and fever seemed paltry in comparison to what she must have suffered.

Calypso went to her, a twisted smile on her face now. Bethany’s sweat-covered body tensed. ‘Don’t worry, Sweetness,’ Calypso crooned. Using a large lace handkerchief she wiped sweat from under Bethany’s breasts. ‘There, that’s better now. You relax.’ She kissed the shoulder and neck of the frightened girl. Calypso’s movements were deliberate and subtle, and she visibly gained a heightened pleasure from them…

‘I’ve just got to sort him out,’ she said. ‘Then we’ll show him, shall we, just how accommodating you can be? Yes, he’d like to see that, wouldn’t he?’

Bethany had her head thrown back, hair hanging down her back, her eyes huge and glassy-looking. She nodded her head, as if slowly returning to life. She would agree to anything now if it pleased her mistress.

‘Good.’ Calypso slapped the crop across the palm of her lefthand. ‘Let’s get those muscles of yours tensing, young man…’