What a gripping tale of sheep lust ewe have there Scylla. I laughed, I cried, and now I have to pee and I don’t want to leave the theatre until ewe post the next installment.
[sub]ok, these sheep puns are getting baaaaaad[/sub]
You know, that melted cheese is much better when you just pass it down IN the container.
Now, I’m not against scaping up the little that landed on my pants with the pretzels, but what do I do about the majority of it, on that lady’s boobs?
[sub]eh, 'scuuse me maam, …[/sub]
that’s what your tongue is for, tradesilicon!
only perverts are in this show anyway, so you’re probably safe.
I’m eager to get back to this, and will as soon as I complete this other mess.
For more than a week, I was trapped with Callie on that little Island of rock. Twice a day she would throw on a little slip dress, walk off past Nads who didn’t seem to mind, and return with food and sustenance to restore my libido.
I was an unwilling prisoner to her passion and 6 or more times a day she would thrust her tan, lithe muscular body up against mine and the world would slip away into a paroxysm of passion.
Nevertheless I was a prisoner within her moist silky embrace, mindless within an orgy of flesh accompanied by strange island music and salty air as if heard and smelled from a great distance.
Each time I would return to myself and agonize over the fate of my fiance. What was happening? Was Rafe even now committing unspeakable acts with my purest?
I resolved to escape, but each time I approached the edge of the rock island, Nads the bull would position himself directly in front of me. As a jailer he has perfect for the job.
Jail did have it’s fringe benefits though, what with Callie’s near constant and irresistable attentions.
Still, I longed for home.
Callie must have senses my lack of ease. She strode up to me one afternoon, and began stroking the hairs on my chest, while I watched the play of muscles beneath her fine tanned skin.
The island music loomed faintly in the background but for once did not sweep me away. It seemed Callie wanted to talk.
“What is wrong with you my fine, fine man. Are you unhappy with your Callie?”
“I’m depressed.”
“Callie make it all better,” and her hand slipped lower and she began kissing my stomack, the Island music picked up tempo, and I felt myself slipping away again.
Perhaps it was because I was so exhausted and overused, but somehow I summoned the strength to resist another moment.
“What is it with you and this? Can’t we just talk a moment, and stop with the bongos, already. Geez!” I said into the top of Callie’s raven black hair.
“UmmmmmMMMMmmmuuuummmmmmm?” She replied.
“Wow! That feels really good when you try to talk when you’re doing that.”
“UmmmmMMmmummm.”
“Ohmygod! No! Stop! Just one second!”
“What is it my man?” she said. “Ok, we talk.” She regarded me now with those roiling green eyes of hers.
“I have to leave! I have to get home! My fiancee is in trouble, and she’d be really mad if she knew about this! and what the hell is that music?”
“You don’t like?”
“No but…”
“It’s Calypso, named after my sister.”
“Who’s your sister?”
“Calypso dummy. Blah, blah, blah. Is this what you want? Talk?”
“Yes. No. Stop doing that, don’t distract me. Who are you? What are you doing with me?”
“I am Calliope, sister of Calypso, and this is my Island. I’d normally have one in the ocean, but their all taken.”
“A pasture?”
“You don’t like? Aren’t I taking good care of you? Make you strong? Make you a man? Lift your curse so the little sheepies are safe? Teach you the art of loving so now you are finer in this regard then any man on earth? I do all this and you don’t like me? You don’t like my Island?” She began to sob, but I had the distinct impression of Crocodile tears.
“No, Callie, I like your island, and I like you. But I have to get home. Don’t you have a job or something? Don’t you have something else you should be doing?”
“No. You are my job. My father says I can keep you, as long as I never let you leave.”
“You told your father about us?”
“It was his idea, but now I want to keep you. You are my fine man.”
“But it’s wrong. I shouldn’t be with you. I’m supposed to be getting married. We can’t be doing this. I have to go.”
She laughed like bells on a lightship.
“It’s ok. It doesn’t count with me. I am not a woman. I am a nymph.”
“Uh, yeah. I kinda figured you were a nympho, but I fail to see the distinction.”
“Nymph! Nymph! My father is God of the seas. I am not a woman, so you are still a virgin.”
“Wow, really?”
“Yes. Is true.”
“I don’t think my fiancee will except that explanation.”
“Doesn’t matter. You never leave. Nads won’t let you go, and I won’t let your go. Now come here!” Again the music swelled and for a time I was carried away.
The next day, Callie put on her slip and walked across the pasture. I lay on a rock tossing clods of dirt at Nads, who eyed me with evil intent.
As soon as she was gone, I was startled to see the flash of a lavender lightning bolt from out of the sky. It crashed on to my rock, and a tall lean elfish figure in a silver suit materialized.
“Upppsies. Upsies. Upsies.” said the man running his hand through his hair.
“Get upsies!”
I got upsies.
“Well now, lookie lookie lookie at you. Somebody’s been Naughhhhhtyyyyy.”
“You got to help me…” I began.
“Do IIIII? That’s why I’m here.”
“What?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Oh. Is something wrong with you mouth. Do you have a speech problem?”
“No. Silly. That’s a lisp. I am Mercury, and I am the archetype of homesexuality, so of course I’m stereotypically gay and have a lisp.”
“Well, I can’t understand you. Could you stop, and your suit is reflecting into my eyes. Could you move out of the Sun.”
“Very well.” With a laconic poof, Mercury was dressed in Jeans and a tshirt and spoke normally.
“I’m not really like that anywar. Just image you know. Personally I think it’s a little demeaning to have to act like that, anyway.”
“Why do you?”
“I’m the archetype. It’s expected.”
“By who?”
“Societal pressures, and such. I have to reflect an image in myself and my constituents to misdirect the world at large as to the one true purpose of the Gay Man.”
“And what’s that?”
“Hush. It’s a secret.”
“Ok, but can you help me escape? Can we go?”
“No. You have to do that yourself.”
“I thought you said you were gonna help me.”
“I am, but you must escape yourself. I can’t interfere.”
“Then how are you going to help?”
“Take this,” he handed me a small box the size of a pack of cigarettes. “When you escape, don’t go home. The Librarian has set a trap for you. Go instead to the very nice farm at the end of Ladnor Lane. You’ll recognize it by the fine gardening and shrubberies. Tell Trevor and Roger I sent you, and give them this box. They’re gay. They’re my people, and only they can help you.”
“Does this have to do with the secret…”
“Stop. Ask no more. I must go.”
And in a blinding flash he was.
Thus endeth Ewe’s Sluts, Episode I.
Stay tuned for Ewes Sluts II, Queer Goings On, coming soon to a thread near you.
::applause::
wonderful! amazing!
a true work of art!
My pants are sticky!
…?
i shouldn’t of said that…
oh well, i’m still going to buy tickets for the sequel!
lines up behind saepiroth to nab some tickets too
i have a feeling they’ll be sold out soon…
“Ewes Slut: Attack of the Clones” :eek:
Gimme my ticket, please. I’ve got : peeks in bag : Cheezels…um, what else is in here…ooh, here’s some Pocky! You guys want some while we’re waiting?
ahh, pocky… food of certain off-brand gods!
i brought my special nachos! i made them with six kinds of cheese, fresh jalapenos, diced olives, and cornchips i made myself!
enjoy, enjoy!
Another excellent episode ** Scylla**, but I am left with questions.
1 Where do you find the time to get your creative juices flowing?
2 Where do you find your creative juice?
3 Where do I find a Nymph of my own?
K