Chapters of Chastication

Exercise in Supidity
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2005-03-03 22:32:49 (UTC)

Seventh Chapter: The Creep Leaves Home for the First Time

“Uhm, Sir? Sir. Sir! Can you, that is, uhm. Can I help you?
Did you loose something? Sir? Stop that! Stop trying to
lick the soles of my boots. Honest to god, I just walked
through bird shit. If you don’t stop that I’m going to
have to call security.” The voice of the pretty young
stewardess seemed to become more agitated as the man
stopped on his hands and knees on the threshold of the

“A useless, stupid, idiot slave begs permission to enter.”
The words were drowned out by the groans of the passengers
in the line behind him who were worried about missing their
connecting flights. Five minutes had passed since those
within view had figured out that he had not had some sort
of epileptic convulsion that necessitated a delay.

“You have a ticket Sir that says you can enter the plane,
and if you don’t I’m going to have to call security.” When
he continued to plead and mumble something about poles, she
threw her arms up in the air and shouted a very
frazzled, “alright, already. Permission for the retarded
man to get on the stupid plane.”

“Will mistress take my leash and walk me to my seat?”

”Take your own leash, you Creep.”

He jerked his head up and looked at her with something akin
to pleasure in his gaze. “Mistress is right. Creep is
sorry. Creep is unworthy. Creep is below contempt and
notice. Creep is boring. Creep should walk himself until
he is worthy of Mistress.” He dipped his face and wrapped
his mouth around the leather grip of the leash, then
started off on all fours in the direction of his assigned

After being advised that he needed to sit on his seat, and
not on the floor by the feet of the men and women in
economy class, he buckled himself in and focused on the
window to the side of him. The take off was uneventful and
the stewardess walked past only once to drop something in
his lap.

“You’re nuts,” the man in the seat beside him snorted. .

“What? Oh, yes, my nuts. For the trip. Is there something
else for the remainder of the flight?”

”Not for those who fly using frequent flyer points,” said
the stewardess as she pushed the drink cart in the
direction of the paying customers. “You can cup your hands
under the tap in the bathroom if you want a drink. I hope
you’re not going to start licking the window….” The
stewardess moved onto another passenger without waiting for
his response.

He wanted to kill her. Kill her and worship her at the
same time for making him feel like the pathetic creature
that he was. Kill her for being like every other women in
his life, so far out of reach. He wanted to tell them all
that even if they were within his grasp, he would not know
what to do with a woman. Women had pulses, unlike Baby,
the used blow up doll he had saved from the trash bin where
he had been dumping the women had had been killing.

The traveler in front of him reclined his seat so that his
head was almost in the Creep’s lap. The Creep’s heart
pounced in his chest and he fought control of his fingers.
He was now so close to his goal, far too close to be so
diverted by another man’s face in his lap. He could not
afford to caress the flesh, to lean down and whisper to him
about what it felt like to have his anus violated.

A brief memory of standing in the airport security line and
praying hopelessly that they would take him into a private
room and force him to undress so that they could shove a
few fingers in his rectum. He was disappointed with the
travel arrangements thus far as the least they could have
done was oblige him by pressing the rod the security people
used against his ass. Not very accommodating, he mused.

“I’m almost there,” he whispered and looked out the
window. Words suddenly leapt onto the glass and scrolled
and quite suddenly the voices around him were of those in
the chat room. He was reading their words. Somehow the
window, in his paranoid state, took on the appearance of
his monitor when he was on chat and he gasped. He could
imagine, no see, clearly see what they were typing about

“I’ll show you, every last one of you. I will, won’t I,
lover. Yes, lover. I will.” He uncurled his fingers from
the fist that had been hitting the window and caressed the
new image that wavered before his eyes.

“I have been working on you for a long time, haven’t I, my

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