2 hot chiks: August 2006

Queen of the Parade

First Tatter
She hated his rough kisses. He pressed so hard that her lips pinched against her teeth. The inside of her mouth would bleed and bruise. He never relented, even when she winced and pulled away. Eventually he'd move to another part of her body where his harsh, awkward methods didn’t bother her so much.

Second Tatter
Like a mannequin or a Barbie-doll, he moved her arms, legs, head and torso exactly where he wanted them to be. If she made personal adjustments, he moved her back again. Neither of them spoke of this. There was nothing to say. It was how he proved that her body belonged to him. She accepted this because he never hurt her and it felt good when he went down on her.

Third Tatter
She wore extra perfume because the smell of him repulsed her. He said it was because of an allergy or something. Lord knows he took enough showers. Still, the stench was there. When they fucked, she fantasized that she was a prostitute. The idea of getting paid to fuck someone who smelled like that made more sense to her than doing it voluntarily. She couldn't figure out why she kept going back. It had something to do with thinking he was a nice guy.

Fourth Tatter
He said she was special. He said she was beautiful. He said he loved her. She would have done almost anything he asked. And she did. They did all the filthy, dirty, kinky things that his wife wouldn’t do with him. But when the novelty wore off, she wasn’t special, beautiful and loveable anymore.

Fifth Tatter
He ignored her when she cried out. He didn’t seem to hear her when she asked him to stop. As soon as the bedroom door slammed shut, he did what he wanted. His blank eyes stared through hers as his heavy body held her down. She told herself they were making love. When he was done, maybe he’d act like he cared about her again.

The Queen of Second Best
Self-coronated with thorny deprivation
Tattered confetti, sacrificed out-of-hand
Discarded underfoot at the end of the festivities
Nothing more than dirty stains on pavement
The Queen of this Parade is nothing more