Monument to EvilnessPosted on January 31st, 2007 4 comments
My name is Henry the Adequate, and I am a superhero. I have a pair of high powered, miniature rocket launchers strapped at my belt, a flamethrower embedded in my forearm, ultra-xray super-molecular vision, the strength of one of the ancient titans - the big one - and a brain so incredibly brilliant I can think of a metaphor for my brain faster than you can say “My brain is so incredibly brilliant I can… Uh… thingy.” My super powers of breaking free of a large chunk of ice in which I am currently imprisoned are three hundred and fifty second to none.
Which brings me rather neatly to the situation at hand for, you see, I am currently frozen solid in a block of ice, Mr Enthusiasm similarly encased to my right, and the dastardly ms Bees Knees standing above me like a towering monument to immorality and evilness, blowtorch in hand, purposefully melting the ice that covers several strategic areas of my body.
“Gotta get that tongue free,” she remarks, casually, “and the other bit.” I fear that if she is not a little more careful with that blowtorch the other bit might be of little use to anybody. Given my current situation that may even be a good thing.
A cold dread spreads through my soul at the thought of the horror that is to come. Well, not exactly horror. More like pleasure-pain with a side helping of humiliation and perhaps just a little ecstasy. Not to mention the degradation. Ahhhh, the degradation. I feel myself growing an extremely small erection - well, shrinkage, you know, because of the cold - and immediately try to think about something else. Ice, for example, and blowtorches, and death. This is surprisingly effective.
Soon my face is free of ice, and I notice sensation returning. Now, I am a magnificent superhero guy, and therefore immune to the more extreme effects of being frozen in a block of ice for several hours (death, for example), but let me tell you now - these were not pleasant sensations. There was the pain, followed by the “more pain”, which slowly gave way to agony, which proved quite persistent, like a cockroach that has found a particularly tasty morsel.
“Now, Henry!” she snaps in a voice filled with impatience, and lust, the heat of the blowtorch and her own internal fire combining to send rivers of perspiration down her face and into the white blouse, causing it to become transparent in several strategic areas, as though this is some kind of b-grade movie or something. It seems Ms Bees Knees intends to waste no time. I can tell because of the way she feverishly removes her underwear from beneath the tight skirt and straddles enticingly my blue, cracked, ice-burned lips; a vision of savage beauty. I can also tell because of the way she says, “Let’s not fuck around. I intend to waste no time.”
And in this moment, as I gaze longingly and fearfully up the full length of her perfectly athletic legs and feel the sweat of her body dripping about my face, I realize firstly that this might not be such a bad way to go after all, and secondly that the salt of her perspiration on my cracked, ice-burned lips really really hurts.
Yes, there is pain, but there is also desire, anticipation, passion, and a deeply primal lust beyond anything I have ever experienced…
4 responses to “Monument to Evilness”
yeah, I’m a complete wowser, as any fool can plainly see.
One question…..does Henry have a dental dam in place?
Hell no. Henry doesn’t even have a dental plan in place.