I hate him... I hate him with such a passion, yet I'm making love to
him...
No. I'm not makin love. I'm having sex.
Pure and simple sex. And he's enjoying it. And I'm enjoying it.
How can I even stand being near him? How can I enjoy this act when it boarderlines on unnatural? I should not be here. I should not be doing this. I hate him so badly I wish I could kill him.
He talks alot. More than Austin Powers, that horny throw-back from the 1960's. And about how sexy he must be.
Strange... I want more... I've been in here for so long, that this is all I know now. Eat. Drink. Have sex. And more sex. He is very horny, almost as much as Austin.
I don't bath anymore. I think I've started to smell, but I don't know. I can't tell if the stench in the air is from me or him.
We're still having sex. In a different position, though. Not a new one, yet a different one than we have been using for the past couple weeks. I would probably find it rather distasteful, yet nothing will ever turn my stomach again. Ever.
He's talking about himself again. Says he's sexy. Says lots of things about himself and what he did... why he is the way he is today. And he's hungry. And randy. He wants me.
Yet I am not the only one he wants. I'm just the chick on the side. He has a first love which he eats more than he eats me. More than he loves me. He doesn't want me for anything but sex. And as a therepist for his personal problems.
I hate him.... yet I also love him... Why? Why do I love him, when nobody could love the likes of him? I want to escape, to run away... yet I can't... and I wouldn't even if I could...
I can smell a very distinct stench... He emits a very foul odour several times a 'day'... I've lost sense of time, yet I think I can use that stench as a clock...
He wants me to look at his nipples... they're dirty, but not as dirty as some parts. And he doesn't wipe himself after using the loo. I used to find that disgusting.
His eyes are so sad... it almost makes me forget his bad breath. And his ugliness. I can look at him, but I don't want to. In fact, I keep my eyes on the wall. The walls are the only clean parts of this room, and that will probably change next time something he eats doesn't agree with him.
I want out. I want to be free... but I can't escape, and I don't want to. It's been so long, being trapped in here by Dr. Evil, that I think Austin Powers has forgotten me. Maybe having sex with him wouldn't be so bad. Maybe I would have sex with him if we were the last people on earth.
It would be a hell of alot better than this.
He wants to have sex again. There's chicken in his teeth. And beans.
******
Austin Powers got word of the whereabouts of the real Ms. Kensington, and jumped at the chance of seeing her again, and even having a chance at an affair with her. He got into his shaguar, and drove over to the secret lair where she was being held prisoner, and went over the whole area with a fine-toothed comb.
Then he smelled a very familliar stench. Could it be??? No! No!
Austin followed the vile smell into a tiny, squalid room, looked everywhere except the toilet. Then he looked on the bed, under the sheets...
"NOOOOO!!! MS... MS. KENSINGTON!!! AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
Then he broke down crying, before sicking up his food from the stench, and the awful pictures that flashed in his mind. Someone would pay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No. I'm not makin love. I'm having sex.
Pure and simple sex. And he's enjoying it. And I'm enjoying it.
How can I even stand being near him? How can I enjoy this act when it boarderlines on unnatural? I should not be here. I should not be doing this. I hate him so badly I wish I could kill him.
He talks alot. More than Austin Powers, that horny throw-back from the 1960's. And about how sexy he must be.
Strange... I want more... I've been in here for so long, that this is all I know now. Eat. Drink. Have sex. And more sex. He is very horny, almost as much as Austin.
I don't bath anymore. I think I've started to smell, but I don't know. I can't tell if the stench in the air is from me or him.
We're still having sex. In a different position, though. Not a new one, yet a different one than we have been using for the past couple weeks. I would probably find it rather distasteful, yet nothing will ever turn my stomach again. Ever.
He's talking about himself again. Says he's sexy. Says lots of things about himself and what he did... why he is the way he is today. And he's hungry. And randy. He wants me.
Yet I am not the only one he wants. I'm just the chick on the side. He has a first love which he eats more than he eats me. More than he loves me. He doesn't want me for anything but sex. And as a therepist for his personal problems.
I hate him.... yet I also love him... Why? Why do I love him, when nobody could love the likes of him? I want to escape, to run away... yet I can't... and I wouldn't even if I could...
I can smell a very distinct stench... He emits a very foul odour several times a 'day'... I've lost sense of time, yet I think I can use that stench as a clock...
He wants me to look at his nipples... they're dirty, but not as dirty as some parts. And he doesn't wipe himself after using the loo. I used to find that disgusting.
His eyes are so sad... it almost makes me forget his bad breath. And his ugliness. I can look at him, but I don't want to. In fact, I keep my eyes on the wall. The walls are the only clean parts of this room, and that will probably change next time something he eats doesn't agree with him.
I want out. I want to be free... but I can't escape, and I don't want to. It's been so long, being trapped in here by Dr. Evil, that I think Austin Powers has forgotten me. Maybe having sex with him wouldn't be so bad. Maybe I would have sex with him if we were the last people on earth.
It would be a hell of alot better than this.
He wants to have sex again. There's chicken in his teeth. And beans.
******
Austin Powers got word of the whereabouts of the real Ms. Kensington, and jumped at the chance of seeing her again, and even having a chance at an affair with her. He got into his shaguar, and drove over to the secret lair where she was being held prisoner, and went over the whole area with a fine-toothed comb.
Then he smelled a very familliar stench. Could it be??? No! No!
Austin followed the vile smell into a tiny, squalid room, looked everywhere except the toilet. Then he looked on the bed, under the sheets...
"NOOOOO!!! MS... MS. KENSINGTON!!! AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
Then he broke down crying, before sicking up his food from the stench, and the awful pictures that flashed in his mind. Someone would pay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
