In my dream, I was a sauna attendant at a luxurious home for wayward girls. I found my work stimulating, though I seemed to be a eunuch. I was working off a fairy tale debt of some kind. The harsh but alluring matron kept my severed member in a faintly glowing jar, on a cluttered shelf above some field hockey equipment. While I mopped up after teenage seizures and dispensed scented cigarettes to the tough kids, I could hear the penis gurgling and bubbling in its jar. After a span of slavish yearning, I suppose the white worm would be somehow returned to my person. As I broke up steam-swaddled wrestling matches between nymphish delinquents, I wondered anxiously if the jar should be refrigerated, and who I should talk to about that. One girl had patches of blue fur growing in the strangest places. She offered to sing a lullaby to my sobbing wound. I slapped a statue and whispered yes, please.
Posted on: Thu, 25 Sep 2014 17:32:28 +0000
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