1987 My sister was playing with her Strawberry Shortcake dollys while I was listening to Casey Kasem’s top 40 Sunday- Using them to run a Brothel- The Smurphs as the JONS and my 12” Joe’s as the pimps- I would drill holes in them- in their plastic crotches mold a penus out of Playdough, SO Papa Smurph would fuck Strawberry Shortcake- it would get messy, purple and grey clay mushed into the jagged hole I bored into her-HOW simpe life was where you could maintain the chaos of a childs mind and no one would ask questions-This was BUFFALO, THIS WAS THE COLDEST WINTER I SPENT THERE-THISWASEWHEREISTAYEDWITH MYGRANDMOTHER
I was 20, this was before Dr. Lee, this was before the nightmares, this was before my life inside here, this place not far from where I grew up-depending on your idea of distance.
PLANET MARS is close as far as I’m concerned. Sally Granit was her name, she was a stone cold woman, girl. SHE WAS 14. She had thin arms and boney legs, She was my first- then KAREN Smith- she was my second before D.LEE entered my life and gave me this place, the cubicals- you
I think about Karen and Sally when I look at Jenna – she is only a little older, not much. These thoughts that I have, where I would like to take her- on a trip. Sally loved the circus, though I never took her there.I took her to a fair. One of those CARNY mobile units that would set-up shop for a few days in a small tonw. The y would call it a “FAIR” but it was just a disguise. Sally loved it- Karen on the other hand never left her room. She always wanted to stay there and I’m not certain why.
Perhaps because of Mr. ABLE, Perhaps he never wanted her to go. Hiding there among her animals. But Jenna would be special, I would need to bring her to a place I never was, even in my dreams.
The clip clop of her shoes on our white floors reminds me of those old black and white movies where you hear the woman walking down a foggy cobblestone walkway- glistening, that sound echoes, tapping into my blood. Watching her as I mop. Sally and Karen have nothing on Jenna-
My sister who was younger than I came to me and asked me one day whiy I molested her toys as I did. She was SIX. I stared at this small mole at the side of her cheek as it moved. It danced as she would go on and on. I never heard an actual word come from her mouth. Just breath.
The only thing she ever said was “GABRIEL” I took this as nothing important until later in life. Reading up on Christian mythology. “THE WINGS OF GABRIEL.”
TO me the bible is much like today’s modern “Harry Potter” books- fantasy, magic, evil heroes- but dare I not say that to many since it be blasphemy-Never blasphemy if it aint real.
That’s when Hermaphroditus came to me, I was in my bedroom, I found my mother’s bible. It just sat on her nightstand-I would read passages from it nightly. But I also studied the luscious paintings of nude images. This aroused me to no end. The heavenly bodies wrapped in cloth of the purest of white. How magnificent.
As I was about to cum all over EVE’s face, Hermaphroditus appeared to me among the pages. She wrapped her lips around my cock- if my mother came in she would see my dick one with the pages of the bible. BUT what I saw as plane as day was a mouth, with a soft tongue bound in a wretched leather mask. Stitched as if by a butcher sewing up a pig’s stomach-My sister saw this. She was SIX.
I was obsessed with it, the pages of wretched violence and decept but the sexual tension of the imagery. I’M not angry with the women of my life Dr. Lee has told me- I understand them as beings from another world. A world where they started as us but transformed into these things, these half woman part male creatures. Dr. Lee has never seen Hermaphroditus, he has only seen my stories, my rants. My ANGER.
