Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 

   good morning Sickman, agreed; billie is a bad hat.  obviously there's a
ton of things i'd like to know about the trip to - was it turkey?  - it's
just surreal that you went there, i have dreamed of it for years, ever
since falling in love with rumi.  my friend saw the dervishes do a whirling
ritual in nyc, would love to see them ...  is that what you saw, whirling?
may i please ask a few of the thousand things i'd like to know and if you
choose to answer, thank you - and if not, please, don't take offense?  or
if you find me to be an entirely too pushy little bitch (and before i was
even obedient enough to even fucking answer your mail) i'm sure you could
think of something to do to me that would prevent me from ever questioning
you like this again ...  are you a trust fund baby or something or do you
travel in your work?  are you one of those hardy fellows who can travel
with small amounts of funds and stay in hostels and fleabags?  how long
have you read rumi?  are you an american?  what i would call a yankee? 
midwesterner, westerner ...  ?  i doubt you're a Southern man, you'd have
already spouted off about it ...  are you married?  kids?  do you eat meat?
hunt or fish?  are you more likely to stop, while channel-surfing, on a
movie in color or black and white?  opinion on the colorization of b & w
movies?  do you smoke?  drink?  recreational drugs?  what books are by your
bed and what magazines are in your house?  or is it an apt.  or houseboat
or treehouse ...  what CD is on your stereo and in your car stereo?  if i
were to be jerked into your vehicle one night, say while crossing a lonely
street, and summarily brutalized within its confines, how would i describe
the vehicle to the police, on the (very) remote chance i wasn't too
terrorized to talk?  pool ocean lake or river?  cats or dogs?  glasses or
contacts?  leno or letterman?  do you like your mother?  do you have a
pro-life bone in your body?  i'm sure that's more than enough for now. 
don't be mad please?

   - But I am not sure I see the connection between a filthy-minded slut
like you and these two holy people.

   what a good point you make, of course, the glorious poet mirabai and a
sick little schizophrenic slut like me have little in common and i may even
be running the risk of offending her powerful spirit by having the gall to
take her name.  thank you so much for correcting me.  feedback on another
choice of name please?  i'm rather fond of uselesscunt.  one of my favorite
moments of liane's vacation is when the cool guy gets her to himself,
punches her in the stomach and asks, why?  why are you such a useless cunt?
also i believe you use the phrase in the amazing It's a Miserable Life too
...  btw i did tell you how much i adored that story?  yes?  it's
particularly interesting that the date rape scene is just as wonderfully
devastating as the more intricate designs of domination that come as the
marriage blossoms ...  i have tons of fantasies about marrying my rapist.
and the baby ...  am i correct in my hope that i'm going to meet their son?
and he'll be one sadistic little bastard?  :) i can't wait to read part 2.
tonight ...

   Please what?

   well ...  that was a retroactive please, included in the message as an
apology because you said "you didn't say please" in the first reply.  i
don't want you to think i have bad manners.  i'm trying to be the perfect
little slut like liane.  although alice is quite obedient and so
efficiently insane ...  i just relate to her so much ...  here's an
interesting (though pathetic i'm sure you'll find) sidenote ...  i also
cannot believe the name you chose for my dream rapist/husband in alice's
story ...  see, my other obsession, besides rape/torture stories and
drawings, is paul westerberg.  speaking of minnesota (and how many e-mails
have you gotten lately with that phrase?  lol), unless you're from the spot
my equally-'Mats-obsessed friend and i like to call the Holy Land -
Minneapolis - it's doubtful you've even heard of The Replacements.  most
haven't.  even culturesluts like you.  :)

   The trick is to make it

   excessive but always within the realm of possibility.  Holiday in Bosnia
was one of these.  Did it work?  Did you ever wonder, even fleetingly, "is
this real"?  Be honest.  it worked - major understatement.  damn right i
wondered, from the first line.  sometimes i felt sure it was actually. 
maybe i just hoped it was.  maybe after i found out you've traveled a lot
...  have you been to bosnia?  have you ever been to south africa or
anywhere they have an epidemic of real rapes?  ever helped out in either
direction?  listen i'm sorry.  i know we're about fantasy.  i am and i
believe you are.  are you strictly about fantasy?  i'm sorry!  i can no
more refrain from fantasizing you're a real Bad Guy than i can stop rubbing
my little clit at night ...  i'm sorry.  i don't know what it means for
this dynamic.  but since i am the stupid cunt and you are the man, you can
figure it out and i will follow.  thank you for having a cock and a brain.
i wonder what it would be like to be able to think straight, even for a
minute.  sigh ...  i'm sure it's not reciprocal and that you've never
wondered what it's like to be all cunt.  it's pretty nasty.

   I did have one even stronger felt flame from a woman once.

   Seems she REALLY did not dig LoRH.  It wasn't that cunt Billie, was it?

   nope, i've only sent along my praise adoration and congratulations ... i
can't give you anything but love baby ...  (sorry, Bringing Up Baby is on
in the background)

   .  If you connect with a

   story, then our minds must just be mis-wired in the same way.  Glad to
meet you.

   yes.  you too baby.  think it's possible we were separated at birth? 
okay, were you born in 1960?  what part of 60?  did mom need a coat for the
drive to the hospital or was it hot out?

   And actually, you have read only two of my stories

   because only two of them are on-topic for RPP.

   oh my god ...  you ARE going to share all of your writing with me aren't
you?  you wouldn't deprive a heroin addict who was writhing at your feet if
you had a big spoonful ready for shooting would you?  actually i've never
been addicted to heroin but i do have one serious addiction that might very
well cause me to writhe at your feet, much as liane was compelled to do on
that hot day in the woods ...  crawling after you ...  begging for just a
taste ...  jesus how pathetic!  surely there is a drop of compassion in
your masterful soul for such a sick, cock-addicted hole?  ...  you really,
really don't want my hot little slavemouth on you Sickman?  i'm just out of
the shower, i don't smell like a dirty whore for a change ...  i smell very
sweet, very good ...  interested in the fact that i don't give shit to any
charity in particular but spend a fortune on expensive shampoos
conditioners and soaps just like a worthless selfish bitch ...  quite
typical in that regard ...  have i told you i get hotter and hotter when i
write to you ...  and now, after thinking about you visiting those whores
in bosnia, using those two every night who waited in your room for you ...
that delicious little victim you fucked while she wept ...  or the
delightful alice and her romantic marriage rituals ...  ohhh ...  you might
like knowing i'm not getting dressed even though it's time to, but have
sunk to my knees in front of the keyboard, fat wobbly mountains of white
titmeat topped with cheerfully pink, fat and happy, hard little nipples
resting awkwardly on the desk as i try to type around them ...  oh my god
sickman ...  i told you i couldn't think straight, being 100 percent cunt,
and it's true!  i am almost out of time before i have to get it together
and leave for work and i haven't answered everything as i said i would in
my message last night!  i'm sorry!  i meant to but you know how stupid i am
and i just got off track a lot and lost all track of time - you know how
hard it is for a silly slut like me to think or pay attention to the time
or hard stuff like that ...  especially when i start writing and thinking
about you and my pussy starts to heat up like a fucking furnace and take
over as it always does ...  i am so sorry, please forgive me!  oh god, i
don't even deserve one minute of your attention.  i'm not fit to be your
toiletslave let alone quiz you with my stupid questions when i can't even
be polite enough to fucking answer your mail ...  i really do promise to
finish answering you tonight, no matter how tired i am!  please don't start
ignoring me even though i know i deserve it for being such a disobedient
little piece of shit ...  please Sickman ...  if you don't want my mouth on
your face or body (ohh ...  please, you aren't going to make me crawl
through the proverbial cyber-woods begging for your cock like liane are
you?) surely you would you let me lick your asshole and balls to wake you
up like alice?  licking til you tell me to stop, no matter if i'm late for
work or not ...  ohh god i love that ...  just one of the many little
genius-touches that go straight to my thumping pussy ...  i don't care if
i'm late if you'll just let me worship your cock ...  my place is here,
serving you and showing you what a good slavemouth i can be ...  being
allowed to drink your piss first thing in the morning, being given the
honor of licking your asshole and eating your shit ...  this is the only
church i belong in ...  mmmmmmmm ...  i love it so much ...  i'll get in
the corners for you, like mama said to do ...  i'll be such a good girl ...
i'll get it all so so clean ...  oh jesus ...  i have just enough time to
jerk myself off to yet another Sickman-inspired cum - the kind that make me
twist so hard i practically dislocate my spine and buck so wildly it's
safer to just stay on the floor ...  please, please overlook my stupidity.
i adore you and i can't help it.  love from ...  i can't choose a name
before you tell me if you have a preference.  if you choose to honor me
with one, that is.  i'll just call myself cunt til you do.  love, cunt