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
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