Over the western ridge, beyond the hinterlands of the Zoriahex, exists a particular wildwood believed to imbue an early-morning Delphic fog, containing within it the decapitated figure of Tarn Devium Pusa, an enigmatic nymphet fabled to possess areoli of ambrosia–the likes of which I have savored, and exalted with My depravity incarnate.
"Get off the stage!" yelled the crowd.
"Let someone younger entertain us!" they demanded.
She was 20, and her presence over the years had become intolerable. I couldn't help but to secrete an oblique smile, as I watched the spectacle from the rafters, concealed in shadow.
Their fickleness and stupidity became the night's entertainment, and those of Us who chose not to sit among them relished in it.
"Did you enjoy your beef nuggets?"
"Good. I thought you would. But you shouldn't speak with your mouth full. Swallow your food first. You don't want to choke on half-chewed meat, do you?"
"It's always the half-chews that bruise our gullets. Now start getting ready for your bath. I'll start running the water for you."
"What? Don't speak to Me like that."
"I really don't care if you're not 'feeling' like it, I'm bathing you whether you like it or not missy! You've been walking around here all day with a soiled little cunt, and I need to wash away the day's sins before you go to bed."
"You have no choice in the matter. It has been decided for you."
"I'll meet you in the bathroom in 5 minutes."
"And don't forget the loofah this time. I'm going to need it to build up an appropriate lather...you're going to need it."
"There. All clean. Now, was that so hard Kitten? Give your DragnMastr a kiss and get ready for bed. I'll join you in a few minutes after I get the toys ready."
"And chew with your mouth closed this time, will you?"
Her voice was an earworm burrowing under the recesses of reminiscence, penetrating through grey scar tissue of memory.
At inconvenient moments throughout the day, I could feel this parasite feeding upon the musty puddles in the pore spaces and fractures of My stale felicity. What was needed was an extermination–an excision was improbable.
I decided that My course of action would be a slow and deliberate deprivation of oxygen. Entombed in the solitude of My shadow lair, it was a mere matter of time before I would be resting in peace from its grubby pestilence.
You are born alone, and you die alone.
Somewhere in-between, you are visited by the occasional demon, and the mark of your greatness will be how you respond to their prickly harassments.
The fact remains, they will pry your mouth open and piss in it. Whether you believe in the metaphorical or literal sense of the word does not matter, your mouth will be a urinal.
So what's it going to be? How will you respond?
Well, if you are a decent human being you will accept the fact that your bloodstream will be soiled by the misery of their malevolence, and find a way to triumph over your unavoidable fate.
We have a liver for a reason, so use it.