as whispered suggestions.
“Hey flatty. Would you mind giving me a response? I’m about to be fired don’t you know? I’ll rub my cock on you. That’ll get you going, you garden hat.”
I take a step back. I’m clearly just embarrassing myself. As the day bleeds on I spend more time contemplating the wall than actually insulting it. I visualise it as a manifestation of my employment. It sprouts great wings and flies away like a toaster on a screensaver. My waning motivation concocts images of me attempting to capture the wall with a butterfly net. I get within striking distance, swing the net with all my strength and watch as it shatters upon impact. Shards of twisted metal skewer my body. I retrieve a white, blood stained flag from my pocket and wave it about. I surrender! The wall comes crashing down, the growing shadow darkening my world. Pitch black.
* * * * *
I arrive home after another shitful day and find Nadia once more in darkness, the headphones secured to her ears with masking tape. She claims that the headphone masturbation is evolving into an obsession. I ask politely if I can spend some time with the headphones to which she begrudgingly agrees. For the next hour I absorb the masturbation cathartically as Nadia watches impatiently. Rather than reclaim the headphones afterward, she throws me against the wall and violently pulls down my jeans. For the first time in months she gives me a blowjob – probably the best blowjob I’ve had in years. It’s as if her life depends on it; as if she’s trying to swallow me whole.
For inexplicable reasons, Mrs Webber enters my headspace several times throughout. I shake her visage away as best I can. Nadia’s mouth is firmly clamped around me when I ejaculate. After she swallows, she slowly stands up, looking confused. To my bewilderment, Nadia claims that my semen tastes exactly like limejuice. I shrug it off as a psychological distortion on Nadia’s part until she exhumes a lime pip that has mysteriously wedged itself toward the back of her mouth.
The rest of the night is spent taking turns with the headphones while the other watches. I leave Nadia with the headphones while I make my way wearily to work.
* * * * *
“Do we have anything yet?”
Mrs Webber looks hopeful. She reminds me of a child, a child I was about to disappoint.
“Sorry Mrs Webber, it will take a couple of days for the preliminary data to be analysed. You’ll receive a full report bearing Astenburger’s insignia.”
Although it clearly isn’t the answer she’s looking for, the mention of Astenburger’s insignia sets her eyes alight. Mrs Webber ponders the thought for a while and suddenly starts sniffing the air like a hungry cat.
“You know something, Michael? You smell more strongly of sex than anyone I’ve ever met. I can almost see the sex wafting from you.” How do I respond to a comment like that? I stand dumbfounded for some time.
“I haven’t showered in a couple of days”
“It doesn’t offend me any but I’d recommend a basic hygiene regimen. Especially when you consider that you’re representing Astenburger.”
“I’ll certainly keep that in mind, Mrs Webber.” I make my way hurriedly over to the wall and arrange the instrumentation haphazardly. Mrs Webber voluntarily leaves the room. Once more I have a cup of tea in my hand I don’t remember being given. I stare the wall down confrontationally.
“I will break you, you fucking son of a bitch! I’ll poke your tits out with a dirty spoon and feed them to your mother. I WILL BREAK YOU!!!”
This continues for some time before my hoarse voice gives up. I seek Mrs Webber out. I have an uncontrollable urge to ask her a few questions. She’s on the toilet, door wide open. She looks terrified.
“What are you doing? Get out of here!”
“I just have a few fucking questions, Mrs Webber.”
“Are you going to rape me?”
“NO! I am not going to rape you. I just have some simple
“Hey flatty. Would you mind giving me a response? I’m about to be fired don’t you know? I’ll rub my cock on you. That’ll get you going, you garden hat.”
I take a step back. I’m clearly just embarrassing myself. As the day bleeds on I spend more time contemplating the wall than actually insulting it. I visualise it as a manifestation of my employment. It sprouts great wings and flies away like a toaster on a screensaver. My waning motivation concocts images of me attempting to capture the wall with a butterfly net. I get within striking distance, swing the net with all my strength and watch as it shatters upon impact. Shards of twisted metal skewer my body. I retrieve a white, blood stained flag from my pocket and wave it about. I surrender! The wall comes crashing down, the growing shadow darkening my world. Pitch black.
* * * * *
I arrive home after another shitful day and find Nadia once more in darkness, the headphones secured to her ears with masking tape. She claims that the headphone masturbation is evolving into an obsession. I ask politely if I can spend some time with the headphones to which she begrudgingly agrees. For the next hour I absorb the masturbation cathartically as Nadia watches impatiently. Rather than reclaim the headphones afterward, she throws me against the wall and violently pulls down my jeans. For the first time in months she gives me a blowjob – probably the best blowjob I’ve had in years. It’s as if her life depends on it; as if she’s trying to swallow me whole.
For inexplicable reasons, Mrs Webber enters my headspace several times throughout. I shake her visage away as best I can. Nadia’s mouth is firmly clamped around me when I ejaculate. After she swallows, she slowly stands up, looking confused. To my bewilderment, Nadia claims that my semen tastes exactly like limejuice. I shrug it off as a psychological distortion on Nadia’s part until she exhumes a lime pip that has mysteriously wedged itself toward the back of her mouth.
The rest of the night is spent taking turns with the headphones while the other watches. I leave Nadia with the headphones while I make my way wearily to work.
* * * * *
“Do we have anything yet?”
Mrs Webber looks hopeful. She reminds me of a child, a child I was about to disappoint.
“Sorry Mrs Webber, it will take a couple of days for the preliminary data to be analysed. You’ll receive a full report bearing Astenburger’s insignia.”
Although it clearly isn’t the answer she’s looking for, the mention of Astenburger’s insignia sets her eyes alight. Mrs Webber ponders the thought for a while and suddenly starts sniffing the air like a hungry cat.
“You know something, Michael? You smell more strongly of sex than anyone I’ve ever met. I can almost see the sex wafting from you.” How do I respond to a comment like that? I stand dumbfounded for some time.
“I haven’t showered in a couple of days”
“It doesn’t offend me any but I’d recommend a basic hygiene regimen. Especially when you consider that you’re representing Astenburger.”
“I’ll certainly keep that in mind, Mrs Webber.” I make my way hurriedly over to the wall and arrange the instrumentation haphazardly. Mrs Webber voluntarily leaves the room. Once more I have a cup of tea in my hand I don’t remember being given. I stare the wall down confrontationally.
“I will break you, you fucking son of a bitch! I’ll poke your tits out with a dirty spoon and feed them to your mother. I WILL BREAK YOU!!!”
This continues for some time before my hoarse voice gives up. I seek Mrs Webber out. I have an uncontrollable urge to ask her a few questions. She’s on the toilet, door wide open. She looks terrified.
“What are you doing? Get out of here!”
“I just have a few fucking questions, Mrs Webber.”
“Are you going to rape me?”
“NO! I am not going to rape you. I just have some simple
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