Chapter 22: SHAME AND SORROW

“Tell your mom, everything you told me, what your sisters told you, the entire story. Let your mom straighten out whose right, what’s true, what’s almost true, what will someday be true, and what isn’t true at all. Trust your Mom.”

Tell your mom everything. Good advice for me to follow, too.

It’s wrong to feel that way, is a ridiculous statement. That feels wrong, or I have a bad feeling about this, are other bits of nonsense.

What’s wrong with the question, What’s wrong with me? Emotional conflicts. Your dark and light sides warring? Your conscience bothering you?

Why can feeling anything, desire or something else for anyone, make you wrong?

Does thinking inappropriate thoughts about your mom make you a motherfucker? Take it from me, and I’m a real live motherfucker, your fantasies ain’t nothing like touchy-feely nitty-gritty smelly reality. Does bloody thoughts equal murder? NO!

I answered NO for all of you, because believe or not, some will argue, thinking and feeling is guilty as doing. Fortunately, my thoughts on that POV are guarded!

If I said I don’t want to offend anyone, I would be lying. Wasted words though.

Children are intended to be lovable. Otherwise they’re a pain. I love a young girl. I held her very close and kissed her. Why shouldn’t I enjoy kissing Ninell? Even if I desired Ninell, but do nothing illegal with her, am I wrong because of the way I feel? Ninell is young but not stupid. She knows she has power over me. Power to tempt, tease me, make me sweat. Ninell enjoys practicing her power over me.

If I asked a Duende or a Goblin girl, to shape herself into a copy of Ninell, and I had sex with Ninell’s form, roleplay, a fantasy Ninell, how wrong is that? Can’t be illegal. Shape-shifting isn’t even recognized, doesn’t exist as a concept in law.

I have wandered off EROS, out of my mind, and out of Regina’s cabin. Wandering aimlessly. To be honest. I’m headed for the kennels. I need to fuck a little Sally.

She looks nasty. Unhealthy. Covered in dirt smears, maybe it’s shit, scabbed knees, infected bug bites, scratched up, with angry red weals on her lower back, sides of thighs and all across her ass. From dog claw marks. Matted greasy looking hair. Her eyes look insane, as she stares at me. How can a human being sink so low?

Her head is low, turned sideways, one cheek resting on the backs of her hands. Her hands flattened, pressing the ground. Her elbows are tucked tight against her gaunt ribs. Scabby knees tucked under her, almost touch her elbows. Her still shapely ass is elevated in the air. Her labia, seen from ¾ rear, are puffy and swollen, like a bitch in heat. Sally lifts a hand to dig and scratch at her head. Fleas? Lice?

A huge wolfish hound approaches and sniffs her bottom. A large almost human sized penis extrudes from his sheath, wet, pink, and wobbling in the air. He leaps on her. His paws landing on her back then skidding off her sides, to clasp her about the waist. Fresh scratches appear on her lower back and sides. Humping his hips, and dancing his rear feet, he staggers against her, seeking her entrance. And finds it. Repositioning his stance for stability, his arched spine arcs above her. Drooling and panting, tongue lolling, he begins fucking, jackhammering into her.

Sally’s eyes slowly close, a small smile appears, and she begins to moan and rock her hips. The hound finishes too quickly, wheels off her, turns away, licks his cock, until the erection subsides and retracts into the sheath. Sally groans, unsatisfied.

Sally falls over into a fetal position, identical to her former kneeling posture, except lying on her side. She adjusts her arms, propping up her head on one upright palm. The other hand toys at untangling loose strands of her filthy blond hair. Now her eyes are slitted, feline, predatory as she stares unblinking at me,

“Hello, Daddy. Did you come to see me? Or to watch the doggie show you just saw? You can be next. You can cut in line, if you want. I would like that. If you came and found me because you really want to fuck me, I’d like that very much!”

“I want to fuck you, Sally.”

“I’m a dirty girl, Daddy. Doe that turn you on?”

“No. Come with me Sally. Let’s get you cleaned. Doctor your scratches and bites. Fix your hair nice. Wouldn’t you like to feel clean again? No parasitic vermin making you itch and scratch? Wouldn’t you enjoy a coffee and a nice chat?”