Strict Susan
10-22-2005, 11:27 AM
With apologies to William Shakespeare, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Mae West, Charles Dickens, H G Wells, Sir Winston Churchill, Jane Austen, Mark Twain, Oscar Wilde, C S Lewis, Enid Blyton, J K Rowling, A A Milne, Lewis Carol, Violet Fane, Lucy Maud Montgomery, Bram Stoker, Thomas Hardy, Mary Shelley, Herman Melville, Sophocles, Eleanor H Porter, George Bernard Shaw, Edgar Rice Burroughs, J M Barrie, Jack London, Emily Bronte, and anyone else I may have quoted or misquoted.
Rodzo’s life was becoming more and more bizarre by the day. He felt, somehow, as though he were living in a surreal world, as though he were playing part in an odd sort of film or play.....
Rodzo knocked on Susan’s door and waited for her curt command, “Enter.” He pushed open the door and walked in to see her sitting on the edge of her bed with her sisters. He felt their eyes examining him from head to toe.
“Is that a gun in your pocket?” Susan asked, “Or are you just pleased to see me?”
Rodzo hastily adjusted his trousers.
“You’re all very beautiful,” he said apologetically.
“Beauty is as beauty does,” replied Maggie enigmatically.
Helen brushed her long blonde hair from her face, “Fair is foul, and foul is fair,” she confirmed.
“Lay on!” said Julie enthusiastically, “And damned be she who first says ‘hold, enough’.”
“I really don’t understand any of you.” Rodzo was confused.
“Kneel,” commanded Susan, “With awe and terror kneel to me.”
Rodzo knelt in front of her.
“Unbutton here,” she told him, “And there.” She indicated the front of his trousers.
Rodzo did as he was told and moved forward until his head was between her legs. Susan grasped the back f his head in both hands, pulling him towards her.
Rodzo yelped. “Please, Mistress. No more.”
“What, Rodzo?” said Susan, “Enough already? It is a sin to loathe the taste of sweetness. You mean to tell me a little more than a little is much too much?”
Rodzo was unable to answer. She had pulled him right against her, and gripped his head with her thighs as well as her hands.
“Hold your piece, Rodzo,” ordered Susan.
Maggie laughed. “Sometimes he is whipped for holding his piece,” she said. “It is nothing. And nothing will come of nothing.”
“He’ll have an unpitied whipping,” said Susan, “When I’ve finished with him!”
She pushed him away from her and swung her legs to one side, away from him. “Paradise lost,” she told him.
Rodzo wobbled unsteadily on his knees and tried to keep his balance. He swayed for a moment, and then fell forward, striking his forehead on the heavy metal frame of Susan’s bed. He heaved himself up, his head reeling.
“Of all the bars,” he thought, “In all the world, I had to fall onto that one.”
Maggie grabbed Rodzo by the throat and pulled him towards her. “Play with yourself again,” she commanded.
“Please, Mistress.. ” Rodzo started, but she interrupted him.
“You played with it for her, now play with it for me. Play with it.”
Rodzo played with it. Maggie grasped his head and pulled him between her legs. She turned to Susan and winked. “Paradise regained,” she said.
“Please, Mistress,” said Rodzo again, his voice muffled between Maggie’s legs, “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“You’ll just have to wait, Rodzo,” Maggie told him firmly.
“Perhaps he can’t wait,” suggested Julie, “If he needs a pee....”
“Ah,” said Susan, “To pee, or not to pee. That is the question. Leave him alone, he’s happy where he is.”
“I’m not,” muttered Rodzo.
“Really?” said Susan, surprised, “But a man can be happy with any woman, as long as he does not love her.”
“Oh this is no good,” Maggie said in an exasperated tone, pushing Rodzo from her. “Go and put the TV on instead.”
“He’ll never figure it out,” Susan told her, “The remote control is too complicated.”
“Not at all,” contradicted Maggie, “It’s elementary, my dear. What’s on?”
“A Sherlock Holmes film, I think,” said Susan, but Rodzo never reached the television, because Julie had tripped him up and jumped on him. In an instant he was flat on his back and she was sitting firmly on his face. Her long skirt covered his head completely.
“Hey!” exclaimed Susan, “He can’t see what’s going on!”
“Darkness is cheap,” replied Julie with a shrug, “And Rodzo likes it.”
There was a muffled noise from Rodzo, which sounded very much like “No I don’t”, but Julie merely pressed down harder on him to silence him.
“You’ll suffocate him,” warned Maggie.
“Humbug,” Julie did not care, “To die will be an awfully big adventure.”
“You’re on another planet,” Maggie retorted angrily.
“Yeah,” said Julie sarcastically, “Third star on the right and smother him until morning.”
“I’m the mother of fear and mystery around here,” Susan said haughtily, “I’m the one who tells wind and fire where to stop.”
“Talking of wind....” An explosive noise came from under Julie’s skirt. “Ooooh,” squealed Julie as Rodzo wriggled frantically, “It’s a far, far better thing I’m doing than I’ve ever done before.”
“Everybody likes to go their own way - to choose their own time and manner of devotion,” agreed Susan, “I find it curiouser and curiouser to learn what people like doing. It’s so nice to know that our pleasures in this world aren’t always to be paid for. After all, one man's ways may be as good as another's, but we all like our own best!”
Maggie jumped down off the bed and pulled Rodzo’s hardness which protruded from his trousers. “The average man don’t like trouble and danger,” she said with an air of disappointment.
Susan laughed loudly, “Yeah, right. Not surprising when there are things that you stretch like that!”
“So?” Maggie was offended. “I always tell the truth about it. He knows what he’s letting himself in for.”
Susan was not convinced. “It's so easy to be wicked without knowing it, isn't it? But I suppose his despair has its own calms.”
Maggie did not answer. She was concentrating on Rodzo’s hardness in her hand, concentrating on matching the rhythm Julie was now pounding on his face with her body, creating what seemed to be but throbs of one body, timed by a common pulse. Yet, Maggie was calm and methodical. She looked up at Susan as she worked at Rodzo.
“Nothing contributes so much to tranquillize the mind as a steady purpose,” she said as her hand gripped like a vice, pulled and relaxed repeatedly.
“He’s in hell right now,” said Susan, with an air of delight in her voice.
“Hell is an idea first born on an undigested apple-dumpling,” Maggie said scornfully, “It’s got no basis in fact. Men are born to have halters round their necks; but it is only when caught by a swift, determined woman that they realise the silent, subtle, ever present perils of life.”
“That’s very profound!” Susan laughed again, “So what’s he more scared of: what you’re doing to him, or the darkness underneath Julie?”
“The horror of darkness, I should think,” said Maggie thoughtfully, giving his hardness and extra firm tug. “Anyway, just breathing isn’t living. We should try to pull him out of his rut of bad habits!”
“The trouble with you, Susan,” Maggie went on without pausing her pulling of Rodzo, “Is that you’ve forgotten your soul. You should remember that you are a human being with a soul. Which doesn’t mean you should forget that men upset everything. When you let them into your life, you find that the man is driving at one thing and you're driving at another. You need to drive at him, not at anything else.”
“It’s not that simple, is it?” said Susan. “You have no idea how frightfully interesting it is to take a human being and change him into a quite different human being by creating a totally new role for him. It’s more than your own soul: it’s his you need to control.”
At that moment, Julie threw back her fierce young head and voiced a wild and terrible cry. The sisters all looked at her.
“See?” said Maggie, “You, and those like you, take your fill of pleasure on earth by making the life of such as Rodzo bitter and black with sorrow. Julie takes her physical pleasure from him. His pain or sorrow is incidental.”
“Rubbish,” retorted Susan, “Control and dominance is all. If you have it, you don't need to have anything else; and if you don't have it, it doesn't much matter what else you have. One cannot violate the promptings of one's nature without having that nature recoil upon itself.”
There was quiet in the room, partly as the sisters thought about Susan’s words, and partly as Julie stopped pounding herself on Rodzo’s face and slumped down on top of him. A vast silence reigned.
“Is he still conscious?” Susan asked.
Julie rolled from him and looked. “Nearly,” she said hopefully.
“You’re so cruel,” said Maggie.
“Terror made me cruel,” Julie said defensively but with a sly grin, “Terror of being left on cloud nine and never reaching heaven. Anyway, I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure. For the moment.”
“I’m wasting my time then,” Maggie stopped gripping Rodzo’s manhood, slapping it to one side in frustration.
“We’ll just have to wait a bit,” Susan agreed. “It’s no fun if he can’t feel it, is it?”
“All good things come to she who waits...”
Rodzo’s life was becoming more and more bizarre by the day. He felt, somehow, as though he were living in a surreal world, as though he were playing part in an odd sort of film or play.....
Rodzo knocked on Susan’s door and waited for her curt command, “Enter.” He pushed open the door and walked in to see her sitting on the edge of her bed with her sisters. He felt their eyes examining him from head to toe.
“Is that a gun in your pocket?” Susan asked, “Or are you just pleased to see me?”
Rodzo hastily adjusted his trousers.
“You’re all very beautiful,” he said apologetically.
“Beauty is as beauty does,” replied Maggie enigmatically.
Helen brushed her long blonde hair from her face, “Fair is foul, and foul is fair,” she confirmed.
“Lay on!” said Julie enthusiastically, “And damned be she who first says ‘hold, enough’.”
“I really don’t understand any of you.” Rodzo was confused.
“Kneel,” commanded Susan, “With awe and terror kneel to me.”
Rodzo knelt in front of her.
“Unbutton here,” she told him, “And there.” She indicated the front of his trousers.
Rodzo did as he was told and moved forward until his head was between her legs. Susan grasped the back f his head in both hands, pulling him towards her.
Rodzo yelped. “Please, Mistress. No more.”
“What, Rodzo?” said Susan, “Enough already? It is a sin to loathe the taste of sweetness. You mean to tell me a little more than a little is much too much?”
Rodzo was unable to answer. She had pulled him right against her, and gripped his head with her thighs as well as her hands.
“Hold your piece, Rodzo,” ordered Susan.
Maggie laughed. “Sometimes he is whipped for holding his piece,” she said. “It is nothing. And nothing will come of nothing.”
“He’ll have an unpitied whipping,” said Susan, “When I’ve finished with him!”
She pushed him away from her and swung her legs to one side, away from him. “Paradise lost,” she told him.
Rodzo wobbled unsteadily on his knees and tried to keep his balance. He swayed for a moment, and then fell forward, striking his forehead on the heavy metal frame of Susan’s bed. He heaved himself up, his head reeling.
“Of all the bars,” he thought, “In all the world, I had to fall onto that one.”
Maggie grabbed Rodzo by the throat and pulled him towards her. “Play with yourself again,” she commanded.
“Please, Mistress.. ” Rodzo started, but she interrupted him.
“You played with it for her, now play with it for me. Play with it.”
Rodzo played with it. Maggie grasped his head and pulled him between her legs. She turned to Susan and winked. “Paradise regained,” she said.
“Please, Mistress,” said Rodzo again, his voice muffled between Maggie’s legs, “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“You’ll just have to wait, Rodzo,” Maggie told him firmly.
“Perhaps he can’t wait,” suggested Julie, “If he needs a pee....”
“Ah,” said Susan, “To pee, or not to pee. That is the question. Leave him alone, he’s happy where he is.”
“I’m not,” muttered Rodzo.
“Really?” said Susan, surprised, “But a man can be happy with any woman, as long as he does not love her.”
“Oh this is no good,” Maggie said in an exasperated tone, pushing Rodzo from her. “Go and put the TV on instead.”
“He’ll never figure it out,” Susan told her, “The remote control is too complicated.”
“Not at all,” contradicted Maggie, “It’s elementary, my dear. What’s on?”
“A Sherlock Holmes film, I think,” said Susan, but Rodzo never reached the television, because Julie had tripped him up and jumped on him. In an instant he was flat on his back and she was sitting firmly on his face. Her long skirt covered his head completely.
“Hey!” exclaimed Susan, “He can’t see what’s going on!”
“Darkness is cheap,” replied Julie with a shrug, “And Rodzo likes it.”
There was a muffled noise from Rodzo, which sounded very much like “No I don’t”, but Julie merely pressed down harder on him to silence him.
“You’ll suffocate him,” warned Maggie.
“Humbug,” Julie did not care, “To die will be an awfully big adventure.”
“You’re on another planet,” Maggie retorted angrily.
“Yeah,” said Julie sarcastically, “Third star on the right and smother him until morning.”
“I’m the mother of fear and mystery around here,” Susan said haughtily, “I’m the one who tells wind and fire where to stop.”
“Talking of wind....” An explosive noise came from under Julie’s skirt. “Ooooh,” squealed Julie as Rodzo wriggled frantically, “It’s a far, far better thing I’m doing than I’ve ever done before.”
“Everybody likes to go their own way - to choose their own time and manner of devotion,” agreed Susan, “I find it curiouser and curiouser to learn what people like doing. It’s so nice to know that our pleasures in this world aren’t always to be paid for. After all, one man's ways may be as good as another's, but we all like our own best!”
Maggie jumped down off the bed and pulled Rodzo’s hardness which protruded from his trousers. “The average man don’t like trouble and danger,” she said with an air of disappointment.
Susan laughed loudly, “Yeah, right. Not surprising when there are things that you stretch like that!”
“So?” Maggie was offended. “I always tell the truth about it. He knows what he’s letting himself in for.”
Susan was not convinced. “It's so easy to be wicked without knowing it, isn't it? But I suppose his despair has its own calms.”
Maggie did not answer. She was concentrating on Rodzo’s hardness in her hand, concentrating on matching the rhythm Julie was now pounding on his face with her body, creating what seemed to be but throbs of one body, timed by a common pulse. Yet, Maggie was calm and methodical. She looked up at Susan as she worked at Rodzo.
“Nothing contributes so much to tranquillize the mind as a steady purpose,” she said as her hand gripped like a vice, pulled and relaxed repeatedly.
“He’s in hell right now,” said Susan, with an air of delight in her voice.
“Hell is an idea first born on an undigested apple-dumpling,” Maggie said scornfully, “It’s got no basis in fact. Men are born to have halters round their necks; but it is only when caught by a swift, determined woman that they realise the silent, subtle, ever present perils of life.”
“That’s very profound!” Susan laughed again, “So what’s he more scared of: what you’re doing to him, or the darkness underneath Julie?”
“The horror of darkness, I should think,” said Maggie thoughtfully, giving his hardness and extra firm tug. “Anyway, just breathing isn’t living. We should try to pull him out of his rut of bad habits!”
“The trouble with you, Susan,” Maggie went on without pausing her pulling of Rodzo, “Is that you’ve forgotten your soul. You should remember that you are a human being with a soul. Which doesn’t mean you should forget that men upset everything. When you let them into your life, you find that the man is driving at one thing and you're driving at another. You need to drive at him, not at anything else.”
“It’s not that simple, is it?” said Susan. “You have no idea how frightfully interesting it is to take a human being and change him into a quite different human being by creating a totally new role for him. It’s more than your own soul: it’s his you need to control.”
At that moment, Julie threw back her fierce young head and voiced a wild and terrible cry. The sisters all looked at her.
“See?” said Maggie, “You, and those like you, take your fill of pleasure on earth by making the life of such as Rodzo bitter and black with sorrow. Julie takes her physical pleasure from him. His pain or sorrow is incidental.”
“Rubbish,” retorted Susan, “Control and dominance is all. If you have it, you don't need to have anything else; and if you don't have it, it doesn't much matter what else you have. One cannot violate the promptings of one's nature without having that nature recoil upon itself.”
There was quiet in the room, partly as the sisters thought about Susan’s words, and partly as Julie stopped pounding herself on Rodzo’s face and slumped down on top of him. A vast silence reigned.
“Is he still conscious?” Susan asked.
Julie rolled from him and looked. “Nearly,” she said hopefully.
“You’re so cruel,” said Maggie.
“Terror made me cruel,” Julie said defensively but with a sly grin, “Terror of being left on cloud nine and never reaching heaven. Anyway, I am now quite cured of seeking pleasure. For the moment.”
“I’m wasting my time then,” Maggie stopped gripping Rodzo’s manhood, slapping it to one side in frustration.
“We’ll just have to wait a bit,” Susan agreed. “It’s no fun if he can’t feel it, is it?”
“All good things come to she who waits...”