Harlequin
Active member
A thousand fronds caress my body like miniature fingers, dancing, tracing my delicate skin with an electric touch. I have been lost for days now, truly mome, but they have taken me in.
Writhing in ecstasy I find it hard to question their reasons why, for the pleasure is so great that gladly I would have paid my life’s wages a thousand times over for the privilege of but ten minutes’ with their fronds.
I am without sense of time, here, but it does not matter because they are such gracious hosts. Never do I wait for anything long, and to my every desire they pander… it is indeed glorious.
I have glimpsed their entirety only once, and it was too intangible for me to truly grasp. I fear in trying I only broke something fundamental to my being, my core, and that that is why I revel so wholly in my pleasure.
It pains me to think that my submission is the result of something broken, twisted in my brain, and yet I can see no other answer. Never before would I have submitted to such a thing—it is perversion, and yet I am in its thrall. I would rebel if I were able but the pleasure is too intense.
I speak to you in a moment of brief, fleeting lucidity but I confess: I do not know if you are but another manifestation of the burning desire I feel for their touch. It is likely.
Soon I will descend into orgasmic delirium, devoid of anything but the lust and need for satiation.
I fear it is too late for me and my mimsy sanity but do not succumb to their tender ministrations. It is an insidious thing, all creeping and lowly. Do not.
fin
Also. Um. "Mome" means "(far) from home" and "mimsy" means "miserable and flimsy". See the Jabberwocky for more information.
Writhing in ecstasy I find it hard to question their reasons why, for the pleasure is so great that gladly I would have paid my life’s wages a thousand times over for the privilege of but ten minutes’ with their fronds.
I am without sense of time, here, but it does not matter because they are such gracious hosts. Never do I wait for anything long, and to my every desire they pander… it is indeed glorious.
I have glimpsed their entirety only once, and it was too intangible for me to truly grasp. I fear in trying I only broke something fundamental to my being, my core, and that that is why I revel so wholly in my pleasure.
It pains me to think that my submission is the result of something broken, twisted in my brain, and yet I can see no other answer. Never before would I have submitted to such a thing—it is perversion, and yet I am in its thrall. I would rebel if I were able but the pleasure is too intense.
I speak to you in a moment of brief, fleeting lucidity but I confess: I do not know if you are but another manifestation of the burning desire I feel for their touch. It is likely.
Soon I will descend into orgasmic delirium, devoid of anything but the lust and need for satiation.
I fear it is too late for me and my mimsy sanity but do not succumb to their tender ministrations. It is an insidious thing, all creeping and lowly. Do not.
fin
Also. Um. "Mome" means "(far) from home" and "mimsy" means "miserable and flimsy". See the Jabberwocky for more information.
