He was sick of having to cater to women and all of their whims. Sick of needing to go out-on-a-limb for such a basic and irrepressible need.
But the leather...the leather was his.
...To cater to w and all of their whims...even when they were more forthcoming, it was still an utter nuisance.
And one day it occurred to him, why should he () at all?
He did not need the woman appended to it, only the leather, which he could forever keep in his possession. Or at least, he wished this were the case entirely, but there could be no doubt that full women possessed certain features that the leather did not. Still, in many ways, the leather was a far, far headier ecstasy than a real woman.
He bit back a moan.
He hummed slightly, nailing it to his desk and admiring it for the next half-hour.
The source of the fantasy settled about him like a "dark cloud", but he cared little for its suffocating effects, he soon found, lightly gripping the ends of the tabletop and smiling. The form of a [] was embedded in the collective a-t, that much was obvious. THe blurb about F's o r's in the creation of the/in creating the d s (remember!);the unbearable layer of the [] settled around him, and he could pick and choose [] as he pleased.
Although he generally did not have murderous inclinations, it was untenable, in his mind, for him to use a corpse from the med-lab. He wrinkled his nose in distaste.
If it was not fresh and killed specifically for that purpose, then it would lack the necessary qualities/it would lack the quality he sought and quickly lose its allure. It had to be live when he took it out and to be killed for that same purpose. It was unfortunate, but he would do what he needed to do, in this case. He could thus envision its live condition as the leather dried/as he tanned the leather, which was the point of the entire exercise.
He continued his sewing, stitching the [] ends of the cunt before nailing it to his desk to admire it.
He did not regret its creation. Not at all.
It was a daily and ongoing delight. And it was far less intrusive than a "full" woman.
and far less troublesome and tiresome than a real woman.
The simple sight brought him to the heights of ecstasy., every single time.
It was, on initial inspection, unrecognizable as such, unless you knew what to look for or were looking for the same.
He had done an excellent job on the stitching, and he mentally congratulated himself.
His desk was littered with similar paraphenalia, and an assortment of []
It served his purposes just fine, he realized, to his increasing delight/and was an increasing and daily source of delight./the sight was
It was not that he subsequently eschewed women, but very nearly so-and it was glorious!
The simple sight of the leather was enough to satisfy him most of the time.
He grabbed a bottle of beer and some snacks, shutting the door of the refrigerator.
it was not limited to female genitals, sewn on one end, for a previously-tanned rabbit hide also sported a prominent place on the mantle
"hands bound together, ankles likewise
A vast assortment of / and other similar paraphernalia that littered his desk
it was not limited to the female genitalia, but to various other appendages. It was for the best, when he lacked a woman to fantasize about, the leather would remain forever in his possession.
the pickling salt had done its work. He set aside the container/he resealed the container and allowed it to cure.
thoroughly satisfied with his own exquisite skill/exceptional skill and craftsmanship
He left five inches of the thighs and three of the abdomen, resolving to stuff these later with a coarse cotton., not at all dissimilar to the kind often used in couch cushions.
He ran a forefinger along the stitching.
The leather...the leather was his.