Maraschino Cherries
by Inga
I am finally writing again. Of course, I have been totally busy at work. I work now late at evenings, and by the time I get home, it is too dark and I am too tired to even exercise. I wake up now every other morning at 5 am to go running. I hope it will alleviate some of my stress. Yes, I am stressed. I work so hard. I have been grinding my teeth more than ever, been short of temper, tired, and having irregular bowel movements.
Saayyyy... that reminds me. Did I ever tell you about the nice lady and the rest of the porta potties? Probably not, as I have been working so hard at my job lately. Well, it is late, and I am tired, but I guess I can quickly tell you a little about the nice lady...
Well the nice lady disappeared into her house on the hill for 2 days. The people in the porta potties only heard each other's sobbing during this time. When the lady finally emerged from her house, she was in a pink frock that was fitted at the bodice area, and ballooned out at the skirt, ending just above her knees. The dress was light pink, with barely discernible white polka dots.
She still seemed to have the dried on poo muck all over her body. She looked very old, as the poo cracked all over, which made it look like she had wrinkles all over her body. She also had suspicious little bulbous nipples, a little too round. It looks like she had cherries still taped to her breasts. She was humming and smiling and singing a new tune. The house was quiet this time. She came down the hill swinging a basket. It looked like the nice lady was going to pick apples or flowers or something. She was barefoot, and if it weren't for the dried poop all over her, she would have looked fresh and natural as if she were in a soap commercial or something.
She skipped by the first few porta potties. The third one had the three girls in it. Was it the third one? I have lost count. who is counting anyway?
There was the stench of vomit at that porta potty. the girls looked wiped out, and were hugging each other, standing in a puddle of still wet vomit. One of the girls was singing something over and over in a singsong voice. Can't make the words out.
The nice lady just skipped by the girls, not even noticing them. She skipped up to the porta potty just next to them. She knocked loudly and yelled, "Hellloooo... anybody hoooommmmeeee?" She yanked the door open, and there were three boys tied up together, with gags in their mouths. All of their eyes were open wide, and even the large one seemed terrified.
The nice lady kept humming, and sat down cross-legged in front of the boys. She started doing something with her hands. It looked like she was rolling a joint or something. She was rolling something, but it seemed like still wet poo poo that she was rolling into the zig zag paper.
After about three hours of rolling three perfect looking joints, the lady snorted and started gleefully laughing. She stuck her legs out in front of her. Then, as she leaned back, she moved her legs in a criss-cross over and under each other in front of each other.
One of the boys started whimpering.
She pulled the skirt of her frock up and rubbed her fingers all over her crotch. She started rubbing vigorously in circles while yelping out Native American Indian-like yelps. "yi yi yi yi yi yo yo yo yi yi yi yi yo yo yo yo"
On and on she went, as her voice started shrieking the yelps. She grabbed one of the joints and started pumping it vigorously in an out of her vagina.
One of the boys kept whimpering, the other had silent tears streaming down his face. The big boy got a hard on while he cried.
The nice lady took each of the three joints and pumped them in turn. She then let out a series of shrill cries while she shook and drew her legs up to her tummy. She just lay there sweating for about twenty minutes... the three joints clutched in her right hand.
Finally, she got up. Verrry slowly, she walked over to the boys.
She had a coy smile upon her face. She played with a front lock of her hair. She started cooing,
"Pretty boys
Pretty boys
nice lady toys
aren't you sweet
play with my meat
smoke my dope
then I'll hope
that you will eat
my crotch poo meat"
The boys started rocking the porta potty back and forth. Their tears and hiccoughs mixed in the back and forth motion. The big boy was pissed. the smaller ones terrified. The porta potty fell backward, with the tied up boys in it.
The whole time the nice lady was gyrating, singing her poem over and over again. She had her knife in her hand.
As the boys lay on their sides, tied to one another, the nice lady whipped open the door again. She had her knife, the joints, and a lighter. She ripped the gag out of the puniest boy... the one who was whimpering. After lighting her poo joint, she put it in the mouth of the puny boy (sharp knife under his neck).
She mad him inhale it. The entire poo joint.
Then she made each boy in turn smoke his joint.
Then, as the boys were one their backs, she straddled the puny boy. She forced him to service her pooey vaginal area. We don't know if she made it to the other two boys, but for sure the poor puny boy had to taste her disgusting infected meat. As he went into a trancelike fit, the other boys tried to get loose of their ropes. There was little room in the porta potty with the three boys on their backs, and the woman on top of them. As they struggled, and the puny boy whimpered in a trance like state, spittle around his mouth.
The nice lady shrieked her poem over and over and faster and faster. She grabbed at her nipples and pulled them out, letting them snap back to place. She became a wild woman... shrieking, screaming, shivering....
Then she sang her poem for the boys over and over and over and over......
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