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Big Brother and online Hunger games.

Yoshitomi

Jan 21, 2016 by Richpaca
For Yoshitomi in response to http://www.tengaged.com/blog/Yoshitomi/7096662/pyn

It was like any other stormy night in Bourdeaux, the sound of the rain splattering against Monsieur Acord's window as the car pulled up. The good Monsieur approached the vehicle to find a grubby man in the driver's seat, smoking a cigarette and scratching his crotch. "How vile" thought Acord, twiddling his moustache. Perfect. "Whoever heard of a sad clown?" said the man, pointing to Doodles with a nicotene stained finger. Doodles shivered in the cold as the transaction was made. 100 Francs for the night, a good price, one might say, but 100 Francs will not bring back one's dignity.

With the snap of Acord's whip, Doodles made his way to the car, out of the rain and sat down next to the man, the car smelled like a mix of tobacco and body odour, with a faint whiff of Magic Tree. It reminded Doodles of a past time, a time he didn't want to remember. They rode in silence, Doodles watched from the window. He watched as the lights of Bourdeaux faded into the distance and the country air seeped in through a crack in the window, masking the scents. They finally pulled up to the motel - a cheap and dirty affair with the A light bulb blown. The room had been prepaid, so the man took Doodles directly to it. Once they were alone, it began.

Doodles shocked the man with his electrifying handshake, and memories of all the men shocked before flooded through his mind. Each contorted face flashed before his eyes as his current partner's face mutated in a mix of pleasure and pain, as Doodles' painted joy was unblinking. Unblinking still as his flower squirted a freezing cold stream into the man's face, and yet again unblinking as the man leant forward to recieve a spanking with a cream pie, the ultimate move in the comedic sexuality he had been craving.

It was too much for the man, who collapsed in a heap. One more postcoital cigarette to stain his fingers further. Doodles took the moment to himself relax, to gather his thoughts, to prepare for the inevitable. He returned to Acord, The Good Monsieur, that's what they called him. With his wealth and his estate and his perfect moustache, with his influence and notoriety. The perfect gentleman. The perfect master.

Doodles wipes away the clown white, that unblinking face of joy, to reveal the truth. Bruised, battered and broken. "Whoever heard of a sad clown?" came a voice behind him.
It was time.

Comments

This was a beautiful blog. :')
Sent by Yoshitomi,Jan 22, 2016
Nobody else liked it Yoshitomi :(
Sent by Richpaca,Jan 22, 2016

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