“Girls who kum, cop all the best orgasms.”
Debra “Puppies” McMichael
Hanging out at on a corner of Maila’s block, leaning nonchalantly against a stop sign, her strait unbuttoned, her push-up set on painful, and her shoes, the preferred kicks of girls who kum, also set on painful. Her push-up set on painful: oh joy, oh bliss, the public lewdness of the expected Victorian pneumatic.
She doesn’t look like a badge. What she looks like is a whore-for-hire who likes to kum. A hooker-who-kums to the hilt.
Mind you, she doesn’t look a common-ass harlot. What she looks like is a hi-dollar hooker, and such expensive call-girls do service this neighborhood, but, they know to do so discreetly.
If she were sporting a krazed, dead eyes, a punked kit, butchie, and were filthy and parasite-infested, then, she could pass for a common-ass hooker who kums.
When hi-dollar hookers who kum are not servicing their hi-rent clients, they revert to their preferred mode: common-ass hookers who kum.
A couple of Goon coppers in a patrol car, making their usual rounds, mistake her for a prostitute who’s dared to openly ply her trade in the nice part of town. They pull over to the curb and get out of their cruiser. It’s been too long since they’ve had the chance to roust an uppity streetwalker, especially a hooker-who-kums, and their arrogant swagger says as much.
Hanna, who’s shadowing the big girl, watches the scene unfold with amused interest. She has no idea that the harlot is Kane. Hanna assumes that this kunt was partying with Mondo and Maila, and that Mondo has given her the slip as usual.
Just like that, Mondo dispenses with the ruse. Krazed gives way to hype hair. Dead eyes give way to baby-blues. Her strait buttons itself. Her kit ceases to be painful. Butchie (butch facial) gives way to her usual harsh, pretty looks: an icy, alluring, stone-faced blonde.
Once more, there’s no strap-on dangling between her lily-whites underneath her very short, very tight, very slick, rubber skirt. She’s commando!
Her thighs crave being strapped, and oftentimes ache when they aren’t being strapped. But, the aching of her thighs turns her on to no end. That, and not the brevity of her skirt, is why Kendo and Purse are still not strapping, as in tightly cinching, her slender, lily-white, “dreamboat” thighs. And, her thigh-strapping minions won’t be strapping those creamy thighs of hers anytime soon.
Phone, Kendo, and Purse are still grasping the waistband of her black rubber slip; they’re still lapping the bare, white flesh of her taunt midriff. They remain an integral part of her suggestive outfit, even though, in the opinion of the many, her faithful trio has been superseded by the something that’s exponentially better.
Once more, she looks like a very private dick.
Once more, she’s a blonde goddess, with a stern hard pretty face and a large ugly loathsome mouth, enshrined in a severe, snakeskin, business suit. Long legs and strappy, spiked-heel pumps. A Nazi’s fantasy slut, come to life.
She flashes her badge, and the bulls back off. Her Koo reverts to painful, emphasizing that she means business.
And, for the first time, she sets her Koo on rough, as in the extreme rough texture of the snakeskin catsuit that enshrined Emma Peel in the Avengers movie; it’s the way that Crone whores Koo. Now, you can see as well as feel the scales of her snakeskin suit. And, her Koo is staying native from now on!
Now, lets digress.
By default, a Koo’s suit coat is a strait jacket and a corset. In Pain mode a buttoned strait is a very constrictive corset that enforces an impossible, Victorian wasp waist. It accomplishes this feat without having metal stays, although to the wearer it feels like the painful strait does have metal stays.
This wasp-waisted Kane is quite the sight, even when her bra isn’t painful.
In Pain mode, of course, her wunder enforces the Victorian jut: her breasts are shoved up, together, and straight out. Push-up bra becomes torpedo bra, and her breasts become lethal double-D projectiles: very 1950s pneumatic. She sets her wonder bra on painful. The plunge bra shows copious cleavage in any mode, of course. Definitely, 1950s pneumatic!
Now, her kit, which is her Koo and bra, is once more painful.
This wasp-waisted Kane, with projectile breasts, is breathtaking. She’s a breathtaking perversion of the ideal female form as it was strictly practiced by proper ladies and improper harlots of the Victorian era.
Kane begins fingering the perl (pronounced: pearl) necklace hanging around her neck. The perls are a keepsake from her binge with Maila; a perl “bead” is the polished skull of a human fetus that’s been shrunk to the size of a pearl bead by Kronos. What’s telling, is that the necklace has a discreet, rear clasp, a Death’s-Head clasp.
The necklace is a JVG; she, of course, named it Perl. And, any schmuck will tell you, that Perl is the something that’s exponentially better which has superseded her faithful trio; a no surprise. It has many heinous uses, it’s most trivial is that of a masturbator. It’s also the trademark of Crone streetwalkers, and the favorite of Crone-inclined whores.
JVGs are powered by NPE (nanoplasmic energy).
The Spiritualist Society of America, the largest and most prestigious esper organization in the world, has publicly denounced the use of nanoplasm.
Half the world bans its use, and for good reason: artifacts juiced with nanoplasmic make a lot of technology obsolete, technology that a lot of people have a vested-interest in keeping around.
Of course, spiritualists of the legitimate and the illegitimate persuasion, still openly dabble with the infamous reagent, that includes some of the Society’s most prominent members, members like Dr. Octavia Renslow, the warden of Arkum State Prison.
Maila, who’s an amateur spiritualist, bought the bauble she gave Kane at the exclusive Argosy Bookstore. It’s part of a very expensive, matching pair, a Tiffany set, no less.
Tor, as in Tor Johnson, the popular Dark character in H.P. Lovecraft’s “Hebert West, Re-Animator” novel, wears a JVG that’s identical to the Tiffany that Maila purchased.
Coincidently, Kane looks like the fictional Tor girl in that book: same build, wardrobe, and mannerisms. Tor also likes to finger her JVG, and, like Kane, that’s not all she likes to finger, either.
In the best-selling novel, Tor is a leviton, the paid companion of a spiritualist by the name of Lady Barbara.
In real life, a tor-johnson is the paid companion of a butch; they’re the equivalent of a dita or a sandman. Typically, the johnson’s employer is quite rich. And, typically, the johnson is nothing more than a prostitute who’s “handy” with a pair of guns.
Once a month, Hanna drags Kane to a séance held by a Lady Barbara. Another coincidence?
In the 1950s, in another life, Hanna’s Lady Barbara was an actress by the name of Kim Novak. At the height of her popularity, Miss Novak was the premier manufactured blonde bombshell of Columbia Pictures, with a box office draw that eclipsed Marilyn Monroe’s for a couple of years!
As Miss Novak, Laby Barbara’s most memorable, and highest grossing, film was “Bell, Book, and Candle;” a romantic comedy about Greenwich Village witches that featured her “real life” cat, Pyewacket.
Hanna steps out of the shadows and walks over.
Mondo purses the badge. She incants something very Goon. Skinz, once more, glove her.
They embrace, French kiss, then, out of nowhere, Hanna incants something very Goon, and they spook to somewhere else.
“The desires we deny, find us as fate.” — M. from “Xin Wen”
Comments are closed.