Ilirium felt instant dread
When he woke to find a woman stroking his head
She had piercing green eyes and her hair was bright red
“My, you are a pretty one. We are going to have such fun,” she said.
Ilirium silently cursed Borium and Truman. “Who are you, woman?”
“I be known as Gypsy Jess. Ye be a good purchase, I must confess. A little bit skinny, but a bargain nonetheless.”
“Oh, this is a mess!” Ilirium cried in distress.
“Oh, bless,” she said. “Don’t ye be afeart and don’t ye stress. Ye’re in real good hands with Gypsy Jess.”
“You’re telling me not to stress, when morality you transgress? What will you have me do under duress? And why the hell am I wearing a dress?”
“To stop my eyes feasting on yer tackle,” she replied and began to cackle. “Although yer not quite as blessed as Malcolm the midget,” she said and cackled once more when she saw him fidget.
“Wicked woman, do your worst,” he told her. “May your blackened soul be cursed.”
“Hush, little monk,” she said as she slowly undressed. “Let’s put yer virility to the test. I do hope for your sake that you show prowess. I expect nothing but the best.”
“Away with you, damn witch and put on some clothes!” he cried as she removed the last of her garments and moved in close.
“Oh, little monk, don’t be morose. My fervent lust just grows and grows.”
Ilirium couldn’t resist and instantly rose
Exacerbating his shame and woes
But to his surprise
When he heard her vociferous cries
It gave him a thrill instead of a chill
And when it was over and their needs were sated
They lay in silence and patiently waited
Until once again Ilirium inflated