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---

This broken-down hometown of mine
Was an increasingly confined cage;
I had to avoid many streets
Because any of Bear’s goons
Could ambush me to insult me,
Steal my money and beat me up,
But I’ve been visiting forbidden streets
So I could catch a glimpse of them,
Of the remaining three, that is:
Sunglasses, Flute, and Duckson.

We track two to a working-class high school,
Where they intend to entice sluts with weed.
Those two goons are Sunglasses and Flute.
They are smoking dope at the entrance,
And a kid is buying some from them.
The two goons are twitching like frogs,
As if their skin were too tight.
Their leader has been missing for days;
His family is even running a missing person ad.

One goon wears his orange, plasticky sunglasses,
Like always, even if it’s dark outside.
He also wears a faded T-shirt
With the words ‘Lone Wolf’,
Which features two large holes.
His pants sag below his waistline,
And his yellowed sneakers are too big.

This guy spends his weekends in club land,
Drinking, smoking, presumably dancing.
His neck often twitches and jiggles
As if he just snorted lines of coke.

The other goon, nicknamed Flute
Is rotund and baby-faced,
His voice annoyingly high-pitched.
He has long, crazy curly hair.

Flute wears baggy jeans
And an oversize shirt under a hoodie.
His mouth hangs open like a dead fish
While he holds his smoking joint.

Flute was the one who held me down
While his pals punched and kicked me;
This thug is the weakest minded,
Eager to submit to their leader’s authority.

I heard from a bunch of people,
Because they kept talking about it,
That Flute once tried to rape a girl,
And it took Bear threatening her
For the big guy to avoid the police.

Their gang roamed around the neighborhoods
Stalking people they thought were weak.
They beat up anyone who crossed their path
And didn’t know their place or couldn’t fight back.

I avoid the groups of fresh-faced teens
As I approach these two drug dealers.
The stench of pot smoke fills the air;
They stink worse than a dead skunk.

I’m close enough to hear their retard-talk:
This shit is good. Man. Fuck yeah.
Check this fuckin’ shit out, man.
Hey. You hear me? Dude.
Don’t you want to hit that ass, bro?
‘Cuz I think she’s ready. How about it, huh?
Yo, you ain’t gonna fuck with us.
Fuckin’ fags, yo. I’ll rip their nuts off.
Get out of here. Leave us alone, bitch.
We got our own problems, yo.

Flute is the first to react
When he hears my footsteps approaching.
He looks up at me with wide eyes
As if he couldn’t compute why I am here.

No sane victim would come to Sunglasses,
The shithead who usually stole from me,
And who once hit me with a bottle.
The guy stares as he takes a drag off his joint.

“Well, well. Lookit who it is!
Volcano Face, the creepy freak!”
Flute grimaces as he looks at my face.
“What are you doin’ out here?”

I see myself from these bastards’ eyes:
My face is covered with huge, red pimples,
Some of which are infected and smell awful,
And are constantly itching and stinging.
My body is scrawny, thin, with small genitals,
A long neck, large ears, and a flat chest.

I hate being looked at and don’t trust people
Who try to get closer to me with a smile.
I hide in dark corners and dream of killing.
I hate humans and everything they stand for,
Because they always mock and ridicule me.

My head is filled with worms
Which gnaw away at my brain.
The worms can never be free,
But they still try to crawl out.
They call me Volcano Face
Because that’s what I look like.

“So how’s your life been treating you lately?”
After I speak, Sunglasses chuckles in disbelief.
He knows I was afraid of him,
And he enjoys intimidating people.
“What’s wrong with you, freak?
Man, I can’t believe my own fucking eyes.
You look like a rotting zombie.”
Flute laughs and shakes his head.
He pulls out a tiny bag of weed from his pocket,
Which he hands to a young kid.
After the kid hands back some coins, Flute smirks.
“Yeah, what kind of mutation you came from?”

“Well, I think I am something special.
I’ve always been alone,
I don’t know how to talk to people,
And no one ever wanted me,
But now you’re going to love me
For my ugly face.”

Both goons are stunned and speechless.
They thought that I would run away in fear,
But I have boldly walked up to them
And I’m smiling like a friendly dog.

Sunglasses looks around nervously;
I’m sure they’d love to beat me up,
But we are surrounded by normies
And lots of girls they want to fuck.

“Don’t talk to me, dude,” Sunglasses says.
“I’m sick of freaks everywhere, yo.
Get lost. We got shit to do.”
Flute tries to push me aside
As he avoids my gaze, but I stand strong.

“Why don’t we take some drugs together, boys?
You must have lots of different types.
We can roll up a fat joint and watch movies,
Play video games, or listen to music.
Let’s get fucked up and laugh at ourselves!
That’s what life is supposed to be.”

Sunglasses grimaces, then looks at Flute.
They must have to come to a shared conclusion,
Because they both stare at me again.
Sunglasses smirks, revealing his crooked teeth.

“You’re really fucking strange, dude,
Your head is full of crap.
How did you end up like this?”
I shrug.
“Just one bad decision after another.”

“You must have run away from home!
Are you trying to befriend us, dude?
No offense meant, yo,
But this ain’t how we roll!
Ours is a kind of prestige crew,
So we don’t take new members easily.”

“Let’s just hang out for a bit,” I say,
“Because I know we’ll have a good time,
And whenever Bear returns,
You can tell him what a good boy I am.”

Flute looks impressed,
But Sunglasses is only annoyed
As he takes a hit off his joint.
He sneers at me and chuckles.
“Well, fuck. That’s pretty fuckin’ sick.
You’d better be ready to back it up.
When Bear finds out about this shit,
He’ll cut your balls off, for real.”

I grin.
“Alright, so let’s go somewhere, huh?”
Sunglasses looks at his pal, but Flute shrugs.
They start walking away from the high school
As their clouds of pot float into the air.
“We’ll find a spot and smoke dope,” Sunglasses says,
“And we can also listen to some techno.
Just walk a distance away from us, dude.
We can’t be seen with the likes of you.”

They lead me to a nearby park
Adjoined to a small conservatory,
And that is carpeted with dried leaves.
It’s deserted except for a few dog walkers.
Sunglasses guides us to an isolated bench.

Flute sits down, but Sunglasses aproaches me
Until he stands so close
That I could just snatch his stupid glasses.
“Forgot to tell ya that you gotta pay
For the privilege of hanging out with us,”
Sunglasses says, “but we’re cool guys,
So you can get your drugs for free.
C’mon, pull out your wallet like usual.”

These two losers are acting crazy
With their fake smiles, false bravado,
Fake respect and false politeness.
I thought I hated these guys before,
But now they seem almost sweet.
All of our lives are filled with lies, deception,
Dirty secrets, dark desires, and lustful greed.

“Of course! Here it is.”
I hand him my wallet eagerly,
Which unnerves him,
But after he opens my wallet,
He takes out a fifty euro note.

“Fifty!” he says. “Sweet, yo.
And because we’re cool guys,
I’ll let you keep that twenty,
So you can buy anti-acne cream.”

I chuckle, then shake my head.
“If only they worked, I wouldn’t be here!
But keep the twenty as well.
And wait a second, I got more!”
I pull out the rest from my back pocket.
“Here’s a hundred fifty euros.
My father gets it from the government
Because as a kid he got hit in the head so much
That instead of a father, he’s just there,
And my mother was so disgusted by our family
That she abandoned us and never spoke to me again.
My old man gives me this money to buy food,
But why don’t you just keep all of it?”

For a long moment, Sunglasses is paralyzed
As he holds my fifty euros note.
Flute shakes his head, and lowers it.
Sunglasses inhales deeply from his joint,
And while a cloud floats in front of his face,
He studies me with suspicion.

“You make my skin crawl, freak,”
He says in a nasty tone, spitting venom.
“Nobody would want to be your friend.
Who could stand to look at your face?
This world doesn’t need you. Go kill yourself.”

Sunglasses spits a big wad of saliva.
He pockets the fifty, he turns quickly,
And the both of them walk away.
I stand there as I stare at their backs
Until they leave the park and vanish.

The sun is sinking slowly,
And the breeze makes the trees shiver.
I follow the path those two goons took.
As I approach the main throughfare
While the streetlights start blinking on,
I spot the backs of Sunglasses and Flute;
They are walking on the opposite side of the road.

People pass me on their way home from work.
I’m a ghost that watches as they go.
Sunglasses must have felt my determined gaze;
Past a zebra crossing, he looks towards me,
Does a double take, then they stop on their tracks.

They are frozen and unnerved.
After they exchange a few words,
They continue on their way, faster,
But they keep looking back at me anxiously.

I follow them across roads,
Past parks where kids play,
Past a large square with lots of pigeons,
Past the parking lots of bars,
Through an alley that smells of piss.

The sun sinks below the horizon.
The sky is a deep purple
With a few thin clouds drifting across it.
We reach an area of workshops and factories,
Close to the train station and its many rails.
It’s a desolate industrial zone
That these guys would have never visited
If they didn’t intend to ambush me.

They walk faster until they disappear
Between abandoned, train-related buildings.
I walk past marooned locomotives
With rust-covered wheels.
I can tell where the two goons are hiding;
I stop and turn to face them.

Sunglasses glowers as he strides towards me,
Followed by Flute, who is wiping his sweat.
I can sense their fear, their quickened breaths,
The same I can smell the stench of weed.

I can’t blame them for being anxious;
Instead of a human being, I’m a beast, a monster.
I stand before them tall and broad-shouldered.
The muscles underneath my clothing
Ripple and flex with each breath I take.

Sunglasses grabs my arm tightly.
His fingers are trembling.
“The fuck you think you’re doing, freak?”
I sigh, then shake my head.
“First off, when you talk to people,
You have to take your sunglasses off.
Why do you wear them all the time, anyway?
Do you think they make you look tough?
I bet your parents used to say
That you’d grow up to be nothing,
A nobody, some bum, some loser,
And a complete fucking idiot, too.
Stop wearing those shitty glasses,
Because you look like an imbecile.”

Sunglasses freezes with his mouth open.
Flute’s hands shake as he taps the butt of his blunt.
“What the hell did you just say?” Sunglasses asks.
“Just that you guys are trash,” I answer,
“The kind that harass young girls
And pick fights with middle school kids.
Nobody would stoop low enough
To become friends with scum like you.”

Flute is sweating profusely;
As he keeps wiping his forehead,
He flicks drops onto the overgrown grass.
Sunglasses scowls, and pulls me by the collar
To shower my face in spittle.
“Fuckin’ retard! Disgusting freak!
Who do you think you’re messin’ with?!
We’ll beat you up and bury you in a shallow grave!”

I burst out laughing, and that pisses him off.
His fist slams against my nose, which cracks.
It blocks my vision. I stagger backwards.
Blood pours down my lips and chin.

I hear Flute’s high-pitched, nervous voice:
“Dude, he’s snapped. Let’s get out of here.”
“You shut the fuck up!” Sunglasses says,
Then focuses on shouting at me.
“When Bear comes back, he’ll know.
He’s going to break you with a bat,
And shove the handle up your ass!”

I smile at Sunglasses with a nasty grin.
“That rotten garbage won’t return, dudes.
My girlfriend picked Bear’s bones clean,
And we fed his organs to some pigs.”

Sunglasses’ lips tremble, his hand shakes.
Flute walks up to him, taps him on the shoulder.
“Let’s go. His eyes are dead. He’s crazy.”
Sunglasses is gritting his teeth,
But his menacing glare meant to intimidate me
Hides behind the lenses of his shitty sunglasses.

“We’ll teach you a lesson like Bear would,
Show you how you deserve to live.
I’m gonna hurt you so bad
That you’ll wish you had died.”

He pushes me towards an alleyway
Where two derelict buildings loom overhead.
I can’t even see silhouettes
In the thick darkness behind the thugs.

Sunglasses and Flute stand in front of me.
I feel their fear, how their hearts beat fast,
How they try hard not to breathe loudly.
Sunglasses raises his fist to punch me
When a fleshy whip lashes from the shadows
And tightens around both of their necks,
Bonking Sunglasses’ and Flute’s heads together.

Both goons grasp at the tail that strangles them,
But Glyca yanks them backwards into the darkness,
And a sneaker and the orange sunglasses fly off.

I stand there as I listen to their shrieks,
Which end quickly in wet gurgles and crunches.
From the shadows rolls out someone’s head,
But Glyca’s greyish hand is quick to grab it.

A bit later, her hand beckons me to come closer,
So I step forward and hold her three fingers.
As the darkness closes in around me,
Glyca rests her hands on my shoulders,
And plants a soft, electric kiss on my lips.
“Good job, my handsome boy,” she whispers.

She holds my fingers as she teleports me back
Into the dark basement of the abandoned house,
Which stinks of dust, mold, and dried urine.
I smell hot blood, and guts ripped open;
Glyca must have brought the corpses with us.

“Excuse me for a while, but I’m hungry!”
Glyca says, and I hear her chewing eagerly.
I sigh, then lower myself to the dirty floor.
Now those will serve as food for my worm larvae,
Or perhaps we’ll feed them to a pack of rats.
Yes, we can use them both as fertilizer:
We’ll plant vegetables, and we’ll eat them raw.

‘A Millennium of Shadows, Pt. 4’ by Jon Ureña

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• Next part (4)

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When I woke up this morning,
I felt like a new person;
Glyca, a creature so magical
Had accepted me as her mate,
So I could be strong enough
To tolerate my classmates’ whispers,
And all the mockery thrown my way.

Everyone avoids holding my gaze.
Even the teachers seem disgusted by me.
They keep moving their heads like rabbits;
They look at the floor, at the walls,
Anywhere but at me.

I’ve skipped way too many classes,
And I can’t concentrate among people,
So I mainly draw in my notebook
While I fantasize about seeing Glyca again.

I daydream that she’s my classmate,
And she sits at the desk next to me.
She’s wearing a top and a skirt
That barely covers her thighs.
Her tail is wagging slowly.
She looks at me, and smiles.
“Hello, I’m Glyca.”
I smile back, and say,
“Nice to meet you, Glyca.
You’re very pretty.”
She blushes a rosy pink.
Her eyes widen, and her pupils dilate.
“Thank you, I hope we can fuck
And I can push my tail into your ass,
But I need your permission to enter.”
She looks down at my cock,
The tip of which glistens with pre-cum.

Some day I’ll make a painting of Glyca,
One that shows the shape of her body,
With every single curve and crevice revealed.
Something artistic, with lots of detail.
Some Van Gogh shit.
A portrait of the most beautiful creature.

During recess, I’m walking down the hallway
When I hear someone call me a freak.
It’s a girl, who turns around and walks away.
It would have hurt, but now I don’t care.
I have someone that I can trust,
Whose heart beats like mine.

Besides, would I want to look at me
If I lived in their carefree brains?
I’d see the scars in my face,
The large, red, pus-filled cysts,
The dried mucus covering my nose,
The horns growing out of my skull.
My skin is scaly, like a snake.
I have sharp teeth, like a wolf.
I have a long tail, like a scorpion.
I’m a beast trapped in a zoo.

I can feel Glyca’s heartbeat in my chest.
I can smell her, and taste her on my tongue.
I’ve never felt this way before,
And I want her to know.

As I was heading down to a bathroom
Through a dimly lit, deserted hallway,
My gaze falls on a curtain of shadow
Past a corner and leaning on a pillar:
A greyish hand is waving at me.

I gasp, and my mouth opens in a smile.
I hurry towards the curtain of shadow.
Glyca draws her hand back,
But it appears further down the hallway,
Coming out of another curtain of shadows.
Glyca is gesturing for me to follow her.

She’s hiding in the dark,
Like a cat seeking a mouse,
Because the sun won’t reach her
In that realm of darkness.

As I focus on spotting her hand in the shadows,
I scamper past mostly empty classrooms
Where groups of friends spend the recess period,
Past the bathrooms and rows of lockers,
Until a door opens slowly into a storage room.

I run inside, but I can’t see in the dark.
Suddenly the door snaps shut behind me,
Then Glyca presses herself against my back
And wraps her arms around me.
As I let out a noise of surprise and joy,
Glyca’s slimy tongue licks my neck.

The air around me is filled with light,
Although my eyes can only see darkness.
“I can’t believe I get to be with you this soon!”
Glyca sucks on my earlobe lovingly
As her tail slithers around my back.
I hear her breathe, I feel her heartbeat.
I turn in her arms so I can hug her,
And before I know it, I’m fondling her ass.
She moans, then bites my ear gently,
But some of her sharp teeth break through.
The pain shoots through me in a warm shudder.

“You make me feel so good, boy,” Glyca whispers,
“That I was eager to surprise you with a gift.
I would have given you this gift anyway,
But it works even better as a reward.”

Her hands are busy stroking my chest.
My heart races, my penis twitches.
What kind of gift is she going to give me?
It must be related to sex in some way.
Maybe she’s going to lick my body,
Or fuck me in the ass with her tail.
I’m ready to accept anything,
As long as it makes me feel special.

When Glyca speaks, she sounds giddy.
“I won’t tell you, but you’ll see today.
At about six, sneak out of your dad’s place
And go straight to that abandoned house
In the woods, where you used to hide.”

I stare at the darkness
Where her face is supposed to be.
“Glyca, what the hell?
I haven’t been there in months!”
She lets out a raspy laugh
That soothes my nerves.
“Yes, I know that, of course.
I’ve had my eye on you for a long time.”

Glyca’s hand glides down my chest,
And she pushes her tongue into my mouth.
I feel her soft, slimy tongue on mine.
She tastes like peach nectar.
I can feel her heartbeat against my lips.
As our tongues dance, my penis twitches.

I guess I should be shocked at the news,
But instead I feel flattered,
And she’s caressing my back with her tail
As lovingly as if we were lying in bed.

“Alright, Glyca, I’ll go there this afternoon.”
She lets out a noise of anticipation,
Then she squeezes me tightly.
Her slimy tongue licks my ear.
“My boy, I can’t wait to have you there.
But recess is almost over. I’ll leave you be.”

She shoves her tongue in my mouth,
And despite her words, we make out
Until the bell rings to mark the end of recess.
Glyca says goodbye, and vanishes in my arms.

I reach the abandoned house at five and a half.
It’s been a while since I last came here.
Back when I started skipping school,
This place seemed like a proper hiding place,
But I wondered what freaks might wander in;
Beyond vagrants, maybe satanic pricks.
So I chose to hide in random apartment buildings,
Where the strangers would be annoyed neighbors.

I had forgotten how creepy the old house was.
I open the door, and the hinges creak loudly.
Inside, the walls are covered in peeling paint,
And the floor is dirty and grimy.
There’s a few broken chairs, cardboard boxes,
Old papers, and piles of assorted trash.
It reeks of urine and stale cigarettes,
Over the musty smell of mold and mildew.

I look around to locate Glyca,
But of course I won’t find her
In a ground floor bathed in the sunlight
That pours through the broken windows.

A dark hallway leads into the basement.
As I approach the stairs, I hear Glyca’s voice:
“Down here, my boy. Come, come!”
I sneak down the cement steps
As I breathe the air thick with dust
And my heart beats faster and louder.
“Sorry, I came a bit earlier,” I say.
“That’s fine, I thought you would.
Please, get down here. I can’t wait!”

Once I reach the pitch black basement,
I’m gripped by the pungent smell
Of fresh blood and feces.
I freeze with a finger under my nose.

Suddenly, Glyca’s three-fingered hand
Holds my right one gently,
And places two objects on my palm.
“That’s a candle and a lighter,” she says,
“But let me walk away far enough
So the candlelight doesn’t hurt me.”

I wait until Glyca gives me the go ahead.
The wick flares up, and as I lift the candle
I see my own face reflected on the yellow surface,
Which reminds me of how hideous I am.

My gaze falls upon a pile of viscera
As if someone had gutted a gigantic fish.
I recognize lungs and coiled intestines.
It stinks of death and filth and rotting food.

I stand stock still, terrified and confused.
“I-is this the gift, Glyca?” I say in a thin voice.
“What? No, no. I had to leave those somewhere!
Your gift is up ahead, my boy,
So please come closer to see it.”

I take two steps towards Glyca,
Then I stop to admire her;
Her smooth, grayish scales glisten
In the flickering candlelight,
Reflecting the dull colors around us.
They shine like polished stone.
The contour of her naked body
Is perfectly sculpted;
She has a slim waist that curves
Into a flat stomach,
And her hips sway gracefully.

In each hand, small claws protrude
From her three long fingers.
The tips look razor-sharp;
They may not just tear off pieces of flesh,
But gouge out entire chunks.

My dick twitches and grows a bit
As I stare at her pinkish slit.
It glistens like a fresh wound,
And I imagine that her pussy widens
And two large, slimy tongues extend out
To lick my naked body all over.
“If you look at me like that, boy,”
My beautiful girlfriend coos,
“I’m just going to eat you up.”

I look up, embarrassed,
But Glyca smiles sweetly,
And I glimpse her sharp teeth.
Her crimson red pupils,
Which glow with inner fire,
Stare deep into mine.

Glyca bites her lower lip.
“You know, I’m always worried
That you might be scared by my body.”
“Don’t be silly, Glyca.
Your beauty transcends everything else.”

Her long tail swishes behind her,
Splashing liquid like an oil slick.
“Oh, I can hardly wait to touch you,
For you to share that warmth with me,
So hurry up, boy, to see your gift!
Just trust me, and enjoy the view.”

I obey her, but as I step forward,
Glyca retreats away from the flame.
The candlelight spreads onto the ground.
The dusty stone walls are decorated
With crude drawings of human genitalia.

Further ahead, the light illuminates a table
And on it an easel made of bones
That holds a stretched hide
Which I assume belongs to an animal,
But I recognize the features of a face
With white skin and even black eyebrows,
And holes where the eyeballs should show up.
It also has a large mouth that hangs open
Without a tongue inside.

“Look closely,” Glyca says excitedly,
“Can’t you tell who it is?”
I gulp as my legs shake,
And tears rush to my eyes.
“I do… It’s Bear.”

“Yes,” Glyca says. “That brute
Who dared to humiliate my boy.
I tortured him, I gutted him,
I ate his flesh, and used his bones
To display his worthless face.”

My shaking hand drops the candle,
And the flame is extinguished,
Which plunges me in darkness.
I fall to my knees
While the tears run down my cheeks.

“Do you accept my gift?”
Glyca asks anxiously.
I manage to speak between sobs.
“Oh, Glyca, thank you!
It’s the most beautiful thing
Anyone has ever done for me.”

Before, all I could do was wait
Until the next time I would be attacked.
I constantly wondered when it would come.
I hoped for a better tomorrow,
Although I knew it would never exist.
But we can hurt others
Before they come for me.

I turn towards Glyca in the dark.
“My love… Bear was one of four.”
“M-my love..? My sweet boy,
We can do something about the rest.”

I grope in the dark for Glyca,
Guided by the scent of her sex,
Until I touch the smooth scales
Of her firm, thick thighs.
I feel her whole body shiver.

“Glyca, I’m going to devour you.”
She lets out a squeal of delight.
“I’ve been thinking about your tongue
Ever since you took care of me.”

As I stroke Glyca’s thighs,
I open my mouth in the dark,
I pull out my tongue,
And my girl’s warm juices
Splash my taste buds.

‘A Millennium of Shadows, Pt. 3’ by Jon Ureña

• Next part (2)

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I wish I could burst every light bulb
And sew every pair of eyes shut
So the mirrors would stop showing my face
And I wouldn’t be looked at ever again.

Every time I go to take a shit
Or to wash my lanky, misshapen body,
I fear facing the mirror’s reflection;
It shows me how I really am: a monster
Who remains sickly pale and scrawny,
And whose face is covered in cystic acne.

I see a freakish abomination
That no one will touch.
That no one wants to talk to.
That no one will ever love.

Such a grotesque freak shouldn’t exist,
As my classmates insist on reminding me.
When I dare return to my classes,
Where the sunlight shines through the windows,
My classmates’ gazes burn my bumpy, itchy skin,
While they snicker at me with their twisted mouths.

What did I do to deserve being myself?
Everyone else is so disgustingly happy
Like they don’t know what misery is.
But when I try to tell some about my pain,
They just stare with blank expressions
And make me feel like a monster
For wanting to die.

No one will care about me once I’m gone.
They’ll forget about me within days.
Even my mother forgot after she left,
And my father prefers ignoring me.

I can’t say I blame my mother for leaving;
I would also do it if I had the strength.
When I return home, my father is sleeping;
He spends most of the day passed out
While the TV speaks out its propaganda
In a room that reeks of cigarette smoke.

Usually, the fridge is empty,
Until my father gives me some money
Of whatever his disability checks provide
So I can buy food for him and myself,
Although he rarely eats when I’m here;
He just sleeps the whole day away.

My father barely talks to me,
He hardly seems to notice I exist,
Which tends to suit me just fine.
Besides, I hate hearing his voice,
How he struggles through sentences
Due to his damaged brain.
I hate how he looks at me
With pity, but not sympathy.
I hate seeing the odd way he blinks,
The bloodshot eyes,
The drool that drips down his chin.
I despise his bald head
And his hairy, scruffy beard,
And the smell of his rotten breath.
I hate his stupid, vacant stare.
He’s a freak who cursed me to exist.
I wish I could destroy this world
To put an end to all of his misery.

The few times he said nice things,
He usually compared me to grandpa,
And told me how alike we are.
When the old man still lived,
He was a bald, creepy loser
With crooked teeth, scraggly hair,
And dark circles under his eyes.
His skin was pale and wrinkled,
And his arms were covered with veins,
Like those of a corpse,
While his legs looked like a bulldog’s,
All overgrown with hair.
I remember how he smelled
Like he’d been dead for weeks.

I was only ten years old,
But I knew what a monster he was.
Every girl at my primary school
Used to tell me about my grandfather;
He waited for the girls after school
So he could touch their perfect skin,
Call them his little princesses,
And repeat how beautiful they were.

At least at my father’s apartment,
I can hide inside my assigned room,
Where nobody can bother me.
It’s my refuge from the world;
There I am safe and free.

In the darkness of my room,
I create worlds that only I know about.
I don’t need to face the ugly outside
To imagine more beautiful sights.

I try to hide my feelings
Behind a wall of apathy.
I need to pretend everything is fine.
Besides, if it ever gets too hard
I can jump off a bridge or slit my wrists.
There’s nothing they can say or do
To save me from myself.

The next morning, the sun rises,
Lighting up the sky red.
At night, the sky will darken
And then become pitch black,
Only for the next morning
For the sky to change back.
The whole cycle repeats itself
Like ocean waves
Crashing upon the shore.

“Look away!” my mind screams
As I stand in front of the mirror.
How many times I repeat this scene?
Every morning I watch my ugly face
Hoping that the acne disappeared.
Every morning after waking up,
Every afternoon when I return home,
Every night before I go to bed,
I look at myself with horror,
Hoping that today I’ll die in my sleep
So I never have to wake up again.

My father told me once, “Smile,
People are supposed to smile.
If you keep smiling at others,
Then at least they’ll pity you.”

This morning, my strength fails me,
Like it has so many other days.
I can’t face so many hours of stares,
Of snickering and mockery;
Besides, I can’t concentrate anymore
On the worthless lessons
Meant to turn me into a wage slave.

I buy a train ticket and exit wherever,
Whether it’s another city, another province,
Another continent, or even an alien planet.
I roam to walk the pain away,
But a few of the strange passersby,
Often children, turn to look at me.
Some laugh and point
As they let out noises of disgust.

I hate them too.
I wish I could destroy this world,
And all the people within it.
I wish I could tear down the walls,
And rip apart the buildings
And the bridges and roads.
Everything would be destroyed,
And the world would be a better place
Without all of its ugliness.

If I spot someone exiting an apartment building,
I hurry up before the door closes,
And stare at the floor as I sneak in.
If I’m lucky, the faceless stranger will leave,
And I will be left alone in that empty space,
So I can hide between pitch black floors,
Where no one will look at me.

I sit for hours on the stairs
While I stare at the darkness
And listen to the echoed sounds
As they travel along the stairwell.

When I hear voices or footsteps,
I pretend I’m going up or down the stairs.
If someone passes me by
And I dare raise my head,
They avoid looking back at me,
Which serves me just fine.
The only thing I want to do is hide.

I can always hold my shit in;
I don’t eat that much anyway.
But when I need to pee,
I can irrigate a potted plant.

I’ve found a home in these empty spaces,
In the deepest depths of my mind,
The darkest corners of my heart,
Where no one can laugh at me anymore,
And no one cares about my deformities.

I conjure beautiful portraits in the dark.
A young woman with long blonde hair.
She wears a black lace dress
Which hugs her curvy figure.
Her lips are plump and pouty,
Her blue eyes twinkle mischievously.

She smiles at me, touches my skin,
And tells me how wonderful I am.
She’s always kind and gentle.
I will never have to face her disgust,
Nor feel the coldness of her rejection.

She whispers sweetly in my ear,
And caresses my pimply forehead
With her soft white hands.
“You’re beautiful,” she says.
“Your eyes sparkle like diamonds in the night.
There’s not a person in this world
Who doesn’t love you,
And who could ever say
That they didn’t want to fuck you.”

I reach out towards her image.
My fingers trace her shape in the canvas.
Other days, my hand only touched air,
But today my fingertips press against skin.

I hold my breath, I shake my head.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I tell myself.
But I’m touching something solid,
And I feel the cold radiating from flesh.

I move my hand up
Until my fingers touch a cheek
And coarse hairs on a forehead.
Suddenly, cold hands take mine,
And stroke it gently.
Strange fingers brush my palm.

“W-who are you?” I dare to ask.
A pair of cold fingers approach my mouth.
I part my lips, and I taste the skin.
It reminds me of grass and dirt.

“You can call me Glyca,” a whisper says.
I gasp. I wonder if I’m dreaming,
Or if I have finally lost my mind.
Should I run up the stairs
And switch on the light to look at her?
She’s a shadow that just appeared.

As I probe her frame further,
I feel her scaly skin,
Like the texture of a reptile’s hide.
She feels familiar, like kin,
And her coldness soothes me.

I caress the smooth contours of her cheeks.
I trace my fingers over her lips.
“Where did you come from, Glyca?” I ask.
“I’m always here, in the shadows,”
She answers with a raspy voice,
While her mouth turns upwards
Making her lips curve into a perfect bow.

Glyca opens her mouth,
And I feel her thick, syrupy saliva
As her tongue glides along my finger.
My heart jumps, my dick twitches.
A warm spreads through my body.

I feel the tips of her long, sharp teeth.
They are as pointed and jagged
As the thorns of rose bushes.
“Do I frighten you, boy?” Glyca whispers.
I shake my head slowly.
“Nothing feels scary in the dark.”

I feel her holding her breath.
Suddenly, her fingers brush my face.
Her scaly skin grazes my infected acne.
I’m disgusted and ashamed,
And I want to apologize for my ugliness.

“You are lucky we are in darkness,”
I say in a thin, weak voice,
“Because that spares you the sight
Of my rotting, hideous face.”
“Your words make me smile,
Which you also can’t see.
You can tell I’m not human,
And I’ve been searching the world
For a very long time.”

I wait for her to explain herself,
But in the end I have to ask.
“What are you looking for?”
“I need a mate,” Glyca answers
Without any shame or hesitation.
“The kind who can love me.
I am cold, I am alone.
But there is someone out there
Who will touch me, hold me.
Someone I can share myself with,
Who will give his body in return.”

I sit in silence for a few seconds,
Then I reach with my hand
To caress the cold skin of her face.
Her tongue slides along my palm.
I feel the soft, thick wetness of her saliva.

“Your body gives off an intense heat,”
Glyca says in a quavering voice.
“My body aches, it burns.
It’s like I’m on fire.”

My heart beats hard
As her cool, dry fingers
Glide across my scalp.
I feel her face inching closer.
Her breath caresses my skin,
And reminds me of flowers,
And rain, and fresh air.

She brushes the pimples on my jaw
With her cool, moist lips.
Her warm, slimy tongue
Runs down my neck.

We are both shivering warmly.
We both want the same thing.
I lean in to taste her mouth,
But Glyca pulls away.
“No,” she whispers, “not yet.”

I was touching her face
When her form disappears
Like a phantom,
Leaving only shadows behind.

Maybe half an hour later,
I still haven’t moved an inch.
I sit on the lukewarm stair
As I stare into the darkness.
I’m listening to the echoes
In case I distinguish Glyca breathing,
But she’s gone
As if I just imagined her.

Although I’ve always felt insane,
I could always tell apart reality
From my wildest daydreams.
But now I know I must have gone psycho:
No one like Glyca could ever exist.
The darkness must be swallowing me.

I close my eyes,
And I can still feel her.
The dark is filled with her body.
Her skin slides against mine.
Her hands run through my hair.
Her lips touch me, and then they part
Allowing my tongue to glide inside.
Maybe it’s a good thing
To go insane.

Back home, at night, I barely sleep.
My mind has snapped, and I feel it
As a constant gaze upon me.
I dream about shadows
And cold, scaly skin.

I force myself to attend my classes.
My classmates pretend I’m not here,
And I barely am; I can’t retain the lessons,
Because my mind wants to hide.
I fall into daydreams without realizing,
And I feel Glyca at every moment.
Real or not, she wants to be loved,
And so do I.
But what does love even look like?

I used to spend my afternoons holed up
In my room filled with junk and trash,
A perfect hiding spot for a boy.
But these days I’m roaming the streets.
I wander down the city blocks
And look up at people who walk past
While I feel a void in my chest.

If I made her up, she’s not coming back.
If she was real, she’s nowhere.
I don’t know where I’m going.
All I can think about is Glyca.
I want to give her all my love
So she doesn’t need to hide.

At school I failed to find what I sought,
So I start skipping classes again.
I go straight to the apartment building
Where Glyca had appeared.

I wait for hours,
But the old woman who opens the door
Closes it swiftly behind her.
“I don’t know you,” the woman says,
“And there’s something wrong with you.
If you belong in this building,
Open the door with your own key.”

I stand in front of the locked door,
As I stare the old lady down.
“The shadow girl said I could find her inside.”
“You’re crazy,” she says. “Get out of here.”

I sneak into another apartment building
To pass the time between floors.
I sit quietly in the darkness
Waiting for a sign from a phantom.
The shadows are empty.
I feel alone, and lonely.
I want to feel the touch
Of someone else.

I imagine Glyca’s scaly skin.
I can see her teeth like thorns.
I can smell her thick, syrupy saliva.
I want to be inside her mouth
Where I would feel safe and loved.
I would share my soul with her.
I would become one with her.
I want her to take me away.

My dick twitches, and I fondle it.
I unzip my pants in the darkness.
Nature could have given me a win,
But even my dick is humiliating:
The shaft often hides inside my body,
And I need to grow it a bit
Before I can wrap my hand around it.
I was cursed with an overgrown clit.

I imagine Glyca’s soft lips
Sliding along my worthless tip.
Her tongue flicks out
To lick every inch of my dick.
I hear her moaning
With the rhythm of her tongue.
As she sucks on the head
I feel her thorny teeth,
That pierce through the skin.

Glyca’s so cold and wet.
She’s not human,
But she feels like home.
I want to bury myself deep inside her,
And let her devour me.

My balls tighten,
And I feel a rush of release.
I spurt my seed into the darkness
While I call out Glyca’s name.

“I don’t want to go back,”
I say in the dark.
“I’ll never find her again.”
My mind screams in agony.
The familiar feeling of being alone
Is now a black hole in my chest.

As my shoulders tremble
And my tears fall on my lap,
I feel a soft touch on my shoulders
As if someone was kneeling behind me.
I turn around sharply and reach for her,
But my fingers only grasp air.

Days later I’m returning from the supermarket
While I hold two bags with the week’s groceries.
It must be some local holiday,
Because the kids are enjoying a foam party
That spills from a square onto the pavement.

The children’s joyful exclamations
Are like nails scratching my brain.
I’m in a daze, the streets feel strange.
Everything is blurry, and my skin crawls.
The entire world feels wrong
And my mind is full of shadows.

Something hits my ankle and I stumble.
I thought someone stepped on me by mistake,
But when I turn around, it’s Bear,
Accompanied by his posse of evil shits.
I never learned his real name, nor care.
He must be twenty or so,
And his body is bulky, thick,
Strong enough to assert his dominance.
Three druggies and dropouts follow him,
To laugh at Bear’s jokes and hold people down.

“Yo, Volcano Face,” Bear says to me,
“Why are you showing that mug in my streets?”
I remain quiet, I walk faster,
But two goons trip me and I fall on my knees.
When I reach for the bags of groceries,
Someone kicks them down the street.
Bear and his friends are laughing hard.

I try to stand up, but Bear pushes me down.
I dare to stare at them, to glare.
“You’re such an ugly loser,” one of the guys says.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t beat you up,” Bear says.
“Just leave me alone,” I mumble weakly.

They’ve got me surrounded.
I would never be able to fight them off.
In my mind, I hang them from hooks,
And tear their skin with a rusty knife.
I want to castrate them slowly
And force them to eat each other’s dicks.
I want to become a shadow monster
With cold, scaly skin.

I manage to mutter, “Get away from me.”
Bear first laughs, then kicks my ribs.
While the kids all hoot and scream,
Two of his goons grab my arms
So they can sink my face into the foam.

My eyes burn with soap and tears,
And I inhale foam with my ragged breath.
A few women scream at us,
“Stop! You are hurting him!”
Bear laughs, and steps hard on my wrist,
Then lifts me forcefully by the neck.

I can hardly see with my irritated eyes.
A group of blurry women have approached us.
“We don’t like this guy,” Bear says harshly,
“He’s just an ugly weakling,
And we need to teach him a lesson,
Show him how he deserves to live.
You be careful where you stick your noses,
Because we aren’t fucking babies.”

They push me one last time,
And I hear their footsteps leaving
As I hide my face in my hands.
I’m trying to breathe through the tears
And the agony of being alive.

Someone’s warm hand grabs my arm.
“Let me help you,” she says softly.
“It’s okay, let me look at you,” she says.
I refuse.

My stomach twists around itself.
Every muscle in my body constantly aches
From stress, anxiety, depression,
Anger, sadness, loneliness.
I can’t escape, I’m collapsing inwards.

I want to curl up in a ball and disappear,
But I’m not strong enough to kill myself,
So I keep pushing on and on
While I wish desperately for the darkness
To swallow me whole.

‘A Millennium of Shadows, Pt. 1’ by Jon Ureña

• Previous part (1)

---

I got up to approach my patient carefully.
“Alma, what happened? You look pale again.”
She plopped down on the chair
And ran her fingers through her hair.
“Doctor, are these sessions fully confidential,
Or are you obligated to rat me out to the police?”

“Something bad has happened, huh?
Don’t worry, I don’t need to reveal crimes,
And besides, I’m very fond of you, Alma,
So I simply wouldn’t do such a thing.”

A single tear fell from behind her sunglasses.
She took a deep breath and said,
“I’ve fucked up, doctor, real bad.
I’m loving finding new blood to taste,
As well as the feeling of plunging my teeth
Into vessels who can barely defend themselves.
I could hardly get enough,
And I wanted to discover all the flavors.”

She rested her elbows on her knees,
And she wrung her hands as trembled.
“Whenever… I passed by playgrounds,
And saw all those lively kids being happy,
I wondered how wonderful they would taste.
This morning I knew my parents would leave
To visit some family in another city,
So I… started chatting with this cute boy,
And I invited him to play video games in my room.”

“Don’t tell me you raped him, Alma.”
She blushed, but shook her head.
“I’m not into kids! But I drank him dry.
I didn’t mean to. He tasted so fucking good,
Like the nectar of the heavens, doctor.
I couldn’t get enough of that shit,
So I kept sucking his blood until I was full.”

“That boy died, then,” I said.
Alma nodded sadly.
“I-I don’t think I left a drop of blood.”
I rubbed my chin.
“I see how that’s a problem.”

“Yes, it is. This isn’t the first time
I have killed someone with my teeth.
But this was the worst one yet.”
I gasped as I was swallowing,
Which made me cough hard.
“What, this wasn’t the first time?”

Alma hunched over and bit her nails.
“The others were worthless,
The kinds that society wouldn’t miss,
But this was just a little boy, doctor,
Maybe about nine years old.
I feel like I can’t stop myself!
I’m addicted to blood, doctor,
It’s just too damn delicious!”

She hid her face in her hands,
But then she raised her voice.
“I-it’s just my nature, right?!
If this universe created a person
Who needs to feed upon other people
Merely to remain healthy and strong,
Then surely I’m entitled to doing so!”

I grabbed her shoulders
So she would look up at me.
“You’re correct, Alma.
We can’t change your nature;
It is your true self,
And you must accept it.”

She cried until she found the strength to talk.
“Doctor, I was chopping up that boy
When my parents walked through the door.
I guess the family reunion got cancelled,
But I didn’t have a chance to explain.
They just saw all the body parts,
And the boy’s head on the dining table,
And both started shrieking in terror.
My mother collapsed on the floor,
But my father pulled out his phone.
He would have called the police on me!”

“What a dick. On his own daughter.”
She nodded energetically, like ‘I know, right?’.
“So I had to stop him. I ripped out his head.”
“Alma, what are you saying?
You mean you bit through his neck?”
“No, doctor, I just pulled hard on his head,
And it came off like a toy’s plastic head.
You wouldn’t believe how strong I’ve become!
And I get stronger the more blood I drink.”

She took off her sunglasses,
But only to rub her teary eyes.
“My own mother was horrified!
She looked at me as if I were sick.
I didn’t even care, because I was in heaven.
I felt my blood pumping inside my veins,
And all the power coursed through my brain!
Doctor, do you understand how addictive this is?!”
“That sounds like a very nice sensation, yes.”

She smiled weakly, then sighed.
“Anyway, so I kicked my mom’s head off.
I didn’t feel that bad about her, to be honest.
I was dragging their dead bodies into my bedroom
When suddenly the police were pounding on the door.
My fucking neighbors, of course, called them.
The cops saw the crime scene and everything.”

“My goodness. How did you escape?”
“Well, through a window, and ran.
But the issue, doctor, is that now I’m a fugitive.”
“This is all very traumatic, I’m sure.”

Alma stared down at her hands
Like she was searching for something.
“Doctor, is draining someone of all his blood
To get my fill considered a murder?”
“Well, I guess you are technically guilty of murder,
But it doesn’t matter because it was for sustenance.
I doubt the authorities even consider vampires real.”
“Really?” she asked, hopeful.
“Sure, vampires have no rights as citizens.
The government believes them to be creatures of evil.
Vampires can’t legally vote, nor own property.
They can’t even marry nor possess firearms.
In any case, Alma, you didn’t feed upon your parents,
You just decapitated them,
And that’s likely to be considered murder.”

She looked down in despair.
“I’m such an awful person,
But I still want to keep living.
Please help me.”
“Well, what were you planning on doing?”
“I was thinking of finding a safe house,
Some new base of operations.”

I rubbed my chin, deep in thought.
“Why not just come to my home?
It’s a lot safer than a hotel room,
And I’ll protect you from the law.
You’ll get along well with my family.”

Alma raised a hand to her chest,
And had to blink away some tears.
“That’s very kind of you, but I don’t need protection.
I’m a vampire now, so I must live like one.”
“So, like in the sewers?”
“No, I was thinking of a high-rise building,
Or at least some place more habitable.”

“I respect your desire for autonomy,
And I believe you are ready for independence.
I also want you to enjoy your newfound powers.
I hope you find happiness and joy in life.”

She looked at me with a desperate gaze.
“But please, doctor, I’d like to come here again!
Talking things out with you is so important.”
“Of course, Alma. You’ll always be welcome here.”
She gifted me a huge grin.
“Oh, thank you so much, doctor!”
She gave me a hug,
Then she left my office in a cloud of perfume
Which mostly smelled of blood.

Despite Alma’s wishes, I didn’t see her for two months,
But sometimes it felt as if everyone talked about her.
The news kept referring to Alma as a serial killer,
Although they had failed to make the connection
With a series of thugs found dead, exsanguinated
Or merely beheaded as if efortlessly.
I guess the police didn’t believe Alma capable
Of wiping out some of the worst local gangs.

Someone knocked on the window behind me,
Although my office was located in a seventh floor.
When I turned around, Alma was crouched there,
Perched gracefully on the narrow windowsill.

I quickly phoned my secretary.
“Mercedes, don’t let anyone come to my office
Until I say the opposite. I’m going to be busy.”
Then I let Alma in, who had waited patiently.

“I’ve missed you, doctor,” she said.
She was wearing more expensive sunglasses;
A reinforced leather jacket like that of a biker;
And iron grey, full length leggings
That displayed her strong physique.

I was in awe of the majestic young woman.
“Alma, I still remember you as that pale girl
Whose remaining energy barely allowed her to talk,
But you’ve grown so confident and assertive.
Look at you, you are strong and healthy,
Filling out your skin, gaining muscle mass!
Your progress has been extraordinary.”

She raised a hand to her chest,
And let out a noise of delight.
“Oh, you’ve always been so kind to me,
When everyone else just treated me like shit.
I feel much better, I’m fucking so many people,
And I’m close to becoming a full vampire!”
“I’m glad to hear that. You really look great.”

After we both sat down, we started our session.
“Alma, the last time you came, you were on the run,
And you were concerned about finding a safe house.”
She waved a hand dismissively.
“I solved that problem quickly!
I was skulking around at night,
Hoping to come across some place I could take over,
And I was trying to pee in a corner,
When a couple of thugs jumped me, to rape me!”

“Well, I’m sure they’re gone now.”
Alma laughed heartily,
But her eyes shone with a burning light.
“Oh, I left one alive, and he guided me home,
Or at least where his gang had their hideout.
It turned out to be one of the nastier ones.
They were running most of the drugs around.

That day I found out that I can take on
Dozens of guys armed even with firearms.
If I kicked them, they went flying,
Or else I ripped their heads off,
Or incapacitated them enough
That I could simply drain them of their blood,
So they just served to make me stronger.”

“You truly are a mighty warrior,
Now that you’ve become a vampire.
I hope you’ll continue to grow in strength
And become a true master of the world.”

“Oh, I wish you’d been there to see it!
So yeah, I took over their building,
And then I figured I could hit other gangs.
I hate drugs, they are just nasty things,
And that’s ceased to be a problem in this city.
I now own several buildings and businesses,
Which provide plenty of money legally.
I have so much money that I donate some
To charities and groups of which I’m fond.”

“Alma, you are almost a model citizen!”
She smiled widely.
“You’re so nice to say that, doctor.
But you know, I still crave human blood.”
“Of course, that’s just your nature.”

“It became too annoying to seduce people,
So I keep dozens chained or in cages.
I go for variety as well, mostly of ages.
You could say I’ve become a collector.”
She laughed, and I shared her laugh;
I had missed being around this woman.

Alma smiled sweetly at me, and said,
“So I always have big bags of blood
That I can feed upon whenever I please.
If I fancy anyone I see in the streets,
I tell some of my guys to kidnap them.”

“Don’t you have to be a bit careful?
You are still a fugitive, right?”
“I’m not worried about that, doctor!
Many of the officers are in my pocket,
And they know that I can reach their families,
So I could drain anyone in plain daylight
And nobody would dare touch me.
However, that would be trashy.”

I was astonished at her progress.
“You are in good terms with the police, too.
You used to be so shy and withdrawn.”
She reached over the desk to touch my hand.
“That’s because I was restraining my nature,
I was keeping my beautiful soul in chains,
But you taught me I should be liberated,
And for that I’m always in debt with you.”
“What I want is to keep seeing you happy.”

I gave her a moment to wipe her tears,
But then she spoke brightly again.
“I’ve discovered new interests.
Most of the time I don’t just feed,
I also enjoy torturing my blood sacks.
To some that I intend to discard,
I rip off their limbs, or flay their skin.”
“Oh, that sounds so gory.”

“I like it though, doctor. It’s fun to watch
The agony on their faces as they scream.
It makes me feel so powerful and strong.
I’d love to do it to all of society,
Except I think we’d have riots everywhere.
Anyway, I’m into eating human meat too.
I love to chew on it, suck its juices.
I prefer their brains… Or maybe their hearts.
It depends on the quality of the meat.”

“It’s important to keep a varied diet.
Besides, as a vampire you may be resistant
To spongiform encephalopathy.”
“Spongi-what?”
“A disease that attacks the brain.
It’s caused by cannibalism,
Which increases the risk of prion disease.
But you may not be fully human now,
So it would be like eating a cow for you.”

Alma gave it some thought.
“Yeah, I think I’m fine, better than ever.
I get stronger the more blood I consume.
Everything seems brighter,
I’m often burning up with excitement.
All those colors, textures and smells!
I can see farther, hear much clearer.
It makes me feel so special.”
“Special?”
“Superior. Like I am God Almighty.”

“That’s a good sign that your depression’s gone.
You must be glad to have a purpose now.”
“I never felt so fulfilled, doctor.
Not once in my life did I know what it was
To have a reason to live,
But now I see a myriad of futures for me.
I’m always so busy scheming and planning!”
“Good. That’s the best thing you can do.”

Suddenly Alma’s smile faltered.
“You still can connect with me, right?
I mean, I haven’t become that strange
Because I’m developing my vampiric powers.”

“You will always be the Alma I know.
Besides, normalcy is a relative term.
There are people who would call you abnormal,
Because you are a vampire who feeds upon humans,
And also kidnaps, rapes and murders them,
But that’s a natural behavior for your kind,
And you shouldn’t let society dictate your values.”

Alma was overjoyed, and came over to hug me.
“Yeah, us vampires aren’t so bad, doctor!
We are smart, we can make good friends,
And we have lots of fun!
I can even help out humanity
By keeping their numbers low;
It would solve the troubles of overpopulation.”

Our session ended shortly after,
But Alma assured me she would come again.
“Can I find you just to talk,” she asked,
“I mean as friends, not as my therapist?”
She had sounded so adorable.
“Of course! Come talk to me whenever.
I’m always so happy to see you.”

Alma’s expression became sadder.
“Doctor, can you tell me something for free?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you really think I’ll make it out okay?”
“Well, you’ve survived this far, and you’re
A very strong and determined woman.
If you keep working hard, you’ll be fine.”

Alma grinned, and climbed onto the windowsill.
“If there’s anything you need, doctor,
Tell me the next time we see each other.
My guys will bring you any kind of supplies.
They’re good at getting things for free.”

I waved, and watched her as she flew off.
She looked just like Superman,
Or I guess any superhero who could fly.
Being a vampire truly was magical.

A month later, a new patient came to my office.
She was a sexy goth girl in her late teens.
She explained that she belonged to a group
Of followers, or a gang: ‘The Vampires of Blood’.
They were a bunch of teens who admired Alma.
“We are so thrilled to have her as our leader!”
They followed her around like puppies,
And tried to be as sweet and polite as possible.
“Please let us feed upon your veins, Alma!”

This girl told me this as if she had invented it,
But I could tell she needed to open up
About her after school activities
That she could be in trouble for revealing.
I was pleased to hear Alma was doing fine.

A month and a half later, in the evening,
I had gone out for a run
When a limousine stopped next to me.
Two huge bodybuilders came out,
Both wearing expensive steel grey suits.
“Please, doctor, come with us.
The queen has invited you to dinner.”

“Oh! You mean Alma! How is she?”
The big guy was dumbfounded by my smile.
I guess most people were terrified of her.
“The queen is always very busy;
There’s lot of problems in this city,
And many people who want her assets.
However, she’s on top of them all,
So you could say she’s doing fine.”

He opened the door and I got in.
I sat between two scantily clad girls
Who started rubbing me all over
While a butler-looking guy sitting in front
Offered me a glass of bubbling champagne.

“Nice to meet you, doctor,” the butler said,
“I’m Alma’s, our queen’s, right hand man.
We know all about you, of course,
How you freed her from her shackles
So she could fulfill her destiny as our leader.
She always keeps people making sure
That no one bothers you or harms you,
And I know she’s just waiting
For you to accept to receive her gifts;
She goes on about this or that you would like.
I would believe if you were truly her father!”
I was so touched I could barely speak,
So I drank some of that tasty champagne.

One of the girls slid her delicate hand
Down my boxers, and jerked me off.
The butler observed her performance.
“Alma ordered to give you pleasure
And make you feel like a king.”

They drained me twice before we arrived
At the tallest high-rise building in town,
And we took the elevator to the last floor.
We exited into a large, dim restaurant
With numerous mirrors and crystal chandeliers.
The polished marble floors reflected every light.

As I walked through the deserted restaurant,
I was already astonished when I spotted Alma.
She was sitting at a table, waiting for me.
She wore an elegant, black slip dress
That seemed to be made of silk and satin,
And fit her perfect, toned figure.
Her long dark hair flowed down to her waist.
She had painted her lips midnight black,
Which contrasted with her pearl white skin,
And she had the confident gaze of a monarch.

I had never seen her look so beautiful,
Like a goddess who lived in heaven
On top of the highest mountain peak,
Reaching for the stars.

I noticed the guards, still as posts,
Dressed with black suits and holding guns.
The waiter that came seemed nervous;
Alma looked so self-assured,
And exuded such an aura of danger,
And could murder everyone in the room,
But for me she was my good old patient.

“Hello, doctor!” she said happily,
“I hope you enjoyed your ride.”
“Oh, it was wonderful. I came two times.”
“Do you like this place? Fancy, yes?”
“Amazing, more like it. It’s yours, I guess.”
Alma winked.
“I own the entire building.”

I waiter brought us two golden goblets.
He filled mine with more champagne,
But Alma’s he filled to the brim with blood.
After she sipped it, she licked a drop
That glistened at the corner of her mouth.

The appetizers consisted of caviar with toast,
Smoked salmon served on crackers,
Fried oysters, and crab legs.
To my surprise, Alma ate them as well,
So I saw fit to comment on it.
“I thought that human food didn’t work.”
“For me they are as nutritious as jellybeans,
But that doesn’t mean I dislike eating them.”

I was buzzed, our conversation was lively.
She was lighthearted, funny and playful.
We laughed and enjoyed each other’s company.
I could tell that her hirelings were surprised.

The waiter brought the main course:
Roast beef stuffed with mushrooms.
As I brought a forkful of it to my mouth
Then chewed on the juicy meat,
Alma rested her chin on her hands
And smiled playfully.
“Can you guess what kind of meat that is?”

I swallowed my bite, then guessed,
“It didn’t come from a cow, did it.”
She nodded. “Her name was Leire,
The most beautiful redhead I’ve seen,
Whose blood tasted like ambrosia.”

I sighed, then chewed on another forkful.
“She tastes delicious. I can see the appeal.
But why would you have slaughtered her?”
Alma looked sad, and shook her head.
“I didn’t! I wanted her as a blood bag,
But one day she cut her own neck.
I have no clue where she got that knife.
All her blood, dirty and pooled on the floor!
What a horrible waste.”

I drank more of my champagne.
“That is truly a tragedy.”
“Yes, so at least I could honor her
By making sure her body nourished me,
Or you, for that matter, whom I love so much.”

I blushed. Her eyes were so alluring,
Not to mention all her power and resources.
“Alma, what a beautiful creature you are.
I’m blessed to call you my friend.”

She fidgeted with the rim of her goblet.
“Don’t you wonder why I invited you?”
“Not really. You can invite me just to talk,
Or just because you want to see me.
You don’t need any particular reason.”
She smiled, and drained her glass.
“Doctor, you always brighten my mood!
But I wanted to offer you a gift,
Or at least the first in a long series.”

“A gift! What is it then?”
Her eyes glistened, and she licked her lips.
“I offer you the gift of immortality,
To become a vampire just like me.”

For a few seconds I only heard our breathing.
I stabbed a morsel of my meal, and savoured it.
The rich, succulent juices ran down my throat.
“Alma, I truly appreciate your kindness,
But I prefer to remain mortal,
Even if becoming immortal sounds nice.”

The butler gasped, and gaped at me.
“D-do you understand what an honor that is?!
The queen hasn’t converted anyone yet!”
Alma raised a finger, and the butler shut up.
When Alma returned her hand to the table,
Her fingers were trembling, but not from anger.

“Doctor, have you truly considered growing old,
Then just dying as if you were never here?”
“I’ve thought about my wife and kids losing me,
But I’ve found ways to keep myself sane.”
“How?” she asked in a sad voice.
“I drink too much wine, take lots of naps.”

She snorted, and I smiled kindly.
“Death isn’t something to fear.
Nothing bad happens to you anymore.”
She narrowed her eyes, deep in thought,
And I sipped on my champagne.

“My dear Alma, we can try forever,
But we will never change our nature,
And if you try to escape it,
You will forever pay the consequences.
People must stay true to themselves,
And everything else will fall into place.

I’m already doing what I was meant to.
I’m an ordinary man with ordinary concerns.
I live to solve my patients’ problems,
And then return home to my cozy family.
You said I would disappear as if I was never here,
But my most successful patient will remain,
And I’m sure you will remember me to the end.”

Alma hung her head low,
And her tears dripped on the tablecloth.
The butler held his breath and stepped back,
And the guards exchanged looks nervously.

When Alma raised her head, she was smiling,
And didn’t bother wiping her tears.
“I understand.
You know, doctor, I was depressed forever.
Ever since I was a little girl,
I felt trapped in a prison cell.
I thought I was destined to be miserable.

Now, I’m more free than anyone.
I’ve ceased to be bound by rules.
I can fuck and eat whoever I want.
I will never starve nor feel weak again,
Because I can drain whole fucking herds.
I’ve become famous, rich and unstoppable.”

I had to wipe my own tears.
“Oh! I’m so proud of you, Alma.”
Her smile brightened the room,
And she warmed my hand with hers.
“Thank you, doctor. You saved my life.
But will you accept other kinds of gifts?”
“Of course! Feel free to give me whatever.”

Two days later, I had a strange dream:
I was sitting on my black leather chair
When it started spinning faster and faster.
I heard myself screaming,
And I ended up flying through the air.

I kept going and going, very far.
I knew that when I fell back to earth,
I would hit it hard and it would hurt badly.
Still, I wasn’t scared.
I looked down at the skyscrapers below,
And all those ant-sized people walking around.

They seemed so small and unimportant.
I was a giant with enormous power.
I could crush them easily and without fear,
And let the wind carry their screams away.

I decided to try flying higher,
So I zoomed towards the clouds.
The darkness crept in,
And I panicked until I saw the stars,
That were millions of miles apart.
I wondered if I could float between them.

Before I knew it, I was floating among the stars.
Among the spinning planets,
I recognized Saturn and Jupiter.
I realized I had been holding hands with a boy,
And he pulled me closer
And his lips pressed against mine
Then I felt him sink his fangs into my neck.
He drained me dry
As I drifted away in space.

It’s been twenty years since I first met Alma.
We keep meeting each other every few months.
Sometimes she comes to hang out with my family,
Or else she brings me to exciting, expensive places.

My house is filled with many of her gifts;
I don’t remember how she gave me plenty of them,
But my family often goes to our summer villas
That Alma bought for us in France, Italy and Malta.
She even paid for my two youngest’s college.
It always makes me happy to see
That Alma hasn’t aged a day.

If I ever get bored of Alma’s gifts,
I think I may paint myself blue,
Or dye my hair bright pink,
And start playing dress up games.
Perhaps I may try being a cat,
Or a dog, or a horse.

Alma ceased to be my patient,
And instead she became my beloved friend,
A brilliant case study on how people flourish
When they live out their full potential.

‘Alma: a Successful Case Study, Pt. 2’ by Jon Ureña

THE END

• Previous part (1)
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---

My whole body felt numb and paralyzed
As I lay on the BDSM bed, restrained by the cuffs.
I tried to hold on to the passage of time,
But my thoughts were swirling in a maelstrom.

The daylight dimmed in jumps.
I must have fallen asleep,
Because when I awoke, it was night.
I tried to sit upright, but I remained chained up.
I couldn’t tell properly if I was alive,
Or if I had gone to a type of hell.

Sometimes I heard cars passing outside.
I was shivering as if a fever was increasing.
I could feel the IV needle inside my arm
While it poured a drug into my bloodstream.

I needed to alert the neighbors;
I tried to cry out, but my throat was dry,
And I only managed to whisper
As if the nerves of my larynx were disrupted.

My brain must have recognized her footsteps,
Because it snapped out of its trance;
I heard the woman as she walked
Down the hallway and into the kitchen.
She opened a cabinet, then closed it again.
I heard her humming as she sang to herself.

Suddenly, she was leaning towards me.
She cupped the back of my head
So she could empty a glass of water
Into my parched mouth.
The liquid woke up my esophagus,
Then it pooled in my stomach.

The woman looked tired
Like after a long workday,
But she smiled at me kindly.
I begged at her with my gaze,
Because I couldn’t speak.

She caressed my sweaty forehead.
“Your body is adapting to the intruders,
Which haven’t started to work yet.
You will know when they do,
Because it will hurt like never before.
I’m telling you so you know in advance.
It’s a normal part of the process.
Just endure it, as I told you.
You don’t have to worry about anything.”

She fed me a bland mush with a spoon,
Which was difficult to swallow
Because my tongue was numb.
The woman wiped my mouth clean.
When she finished, she kissed my lips.
I felt her warm breath on my ear
As she whispered, “Goodnight, my slut.”

She abandoned me in the pitch black room,
Where for hours I only heard my breathing.
I was shivering, burning, freezing,
And the drugs didn’t help with my insomnia.
My whole body felt numb and paralyzed,
My throat felt raw and sore.
I kept replaying the woman’s warning
As I waited for the agony to start in earnest.

The drugs made me hallucinate;
I saw the woman standing in a corner,
With her arms raised as an electric shock
Danced on her fingertips.

Why did she chain me up like a beast?
She intended to keep me alive,
But what had she planned for me?

I woke up from a dreamless sleep
Because my bladder was full of urine.
I tried to stand up by reflex,
But I panicked as I recalled the restraints.
I was suddenly aware of my nakedness,
That my numb crotch was wrapped in a diaper.

I wanted to wait; maybe the woman
Would return to check on me,
And I would somehow plead
For her to preserve my dignity.
I knew already it was a futile hope.

The wind whistled beyond the windows
While my own panting echoed inside.
I couldn’t hold my pee in anymore,
And I finally let go.
I felt the warm liquid filling the spaces
Between the diaper and my skin.

The waste seeped into my pores.
I was disgusted, and I cried in despair
In the darkness and silence of the night.
I was alone with my shame.
I felt so dirty and worthless.
I couldn’t believe my pathetic life
Had led me to a situation like this.
I wished I had a blade to kill myself.

I woke up a second time that night,
Because I felt diarrhea coming up.
I surrendered, and relaxed my asshole,
So the liquid shit flowed out of me.
I felt it hardening in my diaper
Before I managed to fall asleep.

The woman woke me up in the morning.
Although she had restrained me,
I wanted to apologize for the mess
As she realized that my diaper was full,
Probably because it smelled.

I couldn’t feel my fingers nor my wrists.
I was completely helpless,
Like a child locked inside a closet.
“Did you sleep well?” the woman asked
As casually as if I were a friend.

Later she returned with a bowl
Filled with water, and some wipes.
“Try to sleep with your head turned,
At least slightly, or else you might choke.”

When she opened my diaper,
The stink of urine and feces filled the room.
I was ashamed, I felt nauseous,
But the woman’s face remained inscrutable.

She wiped off my crotch with water,
Then put on a fresh diaper.
I wanted to ask her questions,
Or utter any words at all,
But the woman kissed my forehead
And left the bedroom.
I lay there in the dark,
Wishing that I was dead.

I saw the woman in many forms.
She was a beautiful angel
Who protected me from harm.
She was a demon who punished my crimes.
She was a goddess who could grant me a wish.
She was a killer of men
Who had hunted me down.
She was my mother
Who gave birth to me.

A few hours after she went to work,
Those intruders she had mentioned
Must have begun attacking my insides,
Because I felt as if an army of ants
Were chewing on my veins
And biting their way into my organs.

My teeth clenched in fear
As the pain increased
With a terrible intensity.
My body was stiffening,
My skin was burning,
I was sweating profusely.
I wanted to vomit
And choke on it.

My stomach was riddled with holes.
It felt like my guts were melting
As the acids ate away at me.
My bowels evacuated themselves
While I writhed in agony.

I had to get used to the constant pain
As if it were the white noise of hell,
But now I couldn’t fall asleep.
I felt empty, unreal,
As if I had only imagined being alive.

This is just a dream, I told myself,
This entire nightmare of my life,
All those years I had wasted
While I felt exhausted and sick,
So alone and hopelessly unfulfilled,
Without a clue about why I existed.

I had always wanted to be useful,
To live a purposeful life;
What was I supposed to do?
Why did my parents give birth to me?
I had tried to study,
But it was like trying to read a book
While my eyes were blindfolded.
I had never been good at anything.

I thought I had gone insane,
Or maybe just hoped so.
I noticed the woman standing nearby.
She was wearing a plain T-shirt
And she ate rice from a bowl
As she stared down in disgust.
“Your man-body is a mess.
You are a disgrace to yourself and to me.”

My mouth was dry and swollen.
In the last hours I had started to feel
As if my bones were groaning in agony
And my organs were contracting slowly.
It hurt to breathe, and when I swallowed,
My foul-tasting saliva was a razor blade.
I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t.

The woman walked up to a nightstand,
Where she lifted a cell phone, mine.
“Nobody has called,” she said,
Then put down the phone again.

At least two days and nights passed.
I couldn’t tell if I slept for a second.
I was drenched in sweat,
My skin was steaming,
And my entire body was changing
As if all of my cells were resetting.
I wished for any kind of god to exist
So it would come down and kill me.

My vision had turned blurry,
But whenever the blur of the woman left,
I feared that she was abandoning me.
I wouldn’t survive this, I knew it,
And I imagined how she would dispose
Of my old and worthless corpse.
I saw her turning me into fertilizer
With which she would grow plants
On her second floor balcony.

In other daydreams, I saw my cheating ex;
She was beaming as she held a baby.
She looked down at the kid,
And I heard her say, “I hope it’s a boy!”

Then the woman appeared at my side.
Her face was stern and merciless.
She took out a pair of knives
And began to carve my chest open,
Slashing my heart and lungs.
As my blood flowed onto the bed,
She peeled off my skin like a banana.

There was no one to hear me,
No one who would help,
Just the woman, who watched silently
As I screamed in my mind.

I couldn’t stop trembling violently.
The air felt thick and heavy,
As if it were filled with water,
Or I was inhaling a viscuous slime.

The woman was standing close.
Her warm breath reeked of alcohol.
She only wore a pyjama top
While she spread her pussy lips open.
“Look at this pretty hole.
Don’t you think I should enjoy
A cock inside me,
Instead of being grossed out?”

I could no longer feel my genitals;
The whole area was numb
As if I had pressed ice against them.
Pee and diarrhea kept flowing out,
And the last time she cleaned me,
I had also squirted out blood.

My skull was shrinking,
Grinding against my grey matter.
My spine felt as if it were cracking.
“You are going to die soon, slut,”
I imagined that the woman said.
She placed her hand on my forehead
And pressed down with all her strength
Until my worthless head exploded.

Who was I?
What was my purpose in life?
Why did I have to suffer so much?
I had done nothing wrong.
I had never hurt someone this much.
I was born into this world to be alone.
Nobody cared about me.
Nothing made any sense.

The woman was wiping the sweat off my face,
And then poured water down my throat.
I stared up at her, moved my trembling lips.
She bent over real close to hear.
“P-please… I-it hurts…” I whispered
Through my cracked, dried lips.

She caressed my hair
As she gazed down with pity.
“Although it must hurt terribly, I’m sure,
Weren’t you used to pain already?
You trained your entire life, didn’t you?
But unlike all those years,
This pain will be worth it in the end.
When I’m finished with you,
You will end up thanking me.”

Maybe days later, she opened my diaper,
Then she picked up and held my dick,
Which had shrivelled up and fallen off.
She cleaned the mess of my burst balls.
“Finally,” she said, “these ugly things died.”

The woman gazed at me steadily,
Like an owl sizing up its prey.
My expression irritated her.
“What? Were you so fond
Of these unimpressive bits?”
She squeezed my shrunken penis
As if she wanted it to pop.
“Manhood is a useless thing.”
She tossed my detached dick
Into the trash, on top of the diaper.

She calmed down,
Wiped my tears and sighed.
“You were a man, but that’s over.
You were no longer needed.”

She returned to my cell phone,
Which she had kept charging.
“Nobody has tried to contact you,
Although you’ve been gone for weeks.
You had already ceased to exist.
You are perfect.” She chuckled.
“The other men came and went,
But with you, I was blessed.”

“You don’t need your old phone,”
She said, then took it out of the room.
Wherever she went, I heard loud cracks,
Then something hard hitting a bin.

Even my mind had gone numb.
I was done, nothing mattered.
I was a disposable commodity,
A worn out rag,
A piece of garbage,
An empty shell
That had served its purpose.

No more pain, no more suffering.
I just wanted to sleep
And dream about a beautiful woman
Whose body was like an angel’s.
The woman who had abandoned me
In the real world,
While in my dreams she gave birth
To a divine female child.

Days, or weeks, later,
The hair on my torso fell off,
My shackled arms had slimmed down
And now were muscleless and graceful.
My entire body felt slender
As my hips grew wider and rounder,
And two mounds protruded from my chest.

I thought I was dreaming,
Because all the pain ceased.
I lay there confused for minutes.
I tried to sit upright,
But my arms tugged on the chains.
I babbled like a baby learning to speak,
And I heard quick footsteps coming my way.

The woman appeared on the doorway.
Her face brightened up,
And she let out a noise of delight.
“Ah, finally! What a trial, huh?”
She hurried up to me and kissed my hair,
Then she pulled out the IV catheter.
She wiped off the hole with alcohol.

“W-why have you done this to me,”
I spoke through my alien mouth.
“You’re going to be fine,” she said,
“Now you can finally begin to live.”
She looked so thrilled to see me,
And was quick to take off my cuffs.

I tried to push her away
And jump off the bed to flee,
But my legs gave way beneath me.
I fell onto the floor with a crash.
I felt as if I had endured chemo.

She patted me on my head,
Her smile full of joy.
“You need to be careful,
You are as weak as a child,
And you’ll need time to recover.”

She picked me up by my armpits
And she half-carried me to the bathroom.
I thought she was going to throw me
Headfirst into the toilet,
But instead she lifted my chin
So I would look at myself in the mirror.

I didn’t find myself in the reflection.
I was staring at a high school aged girl
A few centimeters smaller than the woman,
Who stood behind me as she undressed.
The girl looked like a live-size doll
Whose owner had dressed with a diaper.

The girl resembled some relative
Of the unsightly man I knew myself to be,
But when I stared into those altered eyes
I was horrified at the gaze I recognized.

The woman hugged me from behind,
Pressing her warm breasts against my back.
She wrapped my arms around me,
And caressed my breasts and tummy lovingly
As she rested her chin on my shoulder.
I shivered warmly from head to toe.

“Look at you, you are gorgeous,”
She cooed as she breathed deeply.
Her stiff nipples were poking my skin.
She slid one hand down to my crotch;
The mirror reflected a fresh slit,
Which was getting warm and gooey.

“Your eyes are still red and smarting,
And you look like you need serious rest,
But otherwise, your body is perfect.
You can now be proud of yourself,”
The woman stated triumphantly.

I dug into my face with my fingers.
“T-this can’t be, it’s impossible.
I must have lost my mind.”
The woman grabbed my wrist,
And pulled down my arm.

“Hey, don’t claw at your face,
Which is now a precious thing.
Anyway, there’s an explanation:
A myriad of tiny teeny machines
Have reached every part of your body
And have reshaped it entirely
Until it became this miracle of flesh.
I want to explain more, truly,
But those NDAs are very severe.”

I was stunned, and I stared open-mouthed
At the strange girl I had been made into.
The woman turned me around,
Then pressed my body against hers.
Her heart was pounding on her chest,
And I could smell the wetness of her sex.
She had a smile plastered in her mouth
Like that of a birthday girl
Who had been gifted a pretty puppy.

She stroked my hair and face,
Then she rubbed her cheek along mine
As her hands roamed my body freely.
“I’m going to take care of you so well,
Now that you’re mine,” she murmured.
She kissed my lips, my cheeks, my neck,
While her hands squeezed my ass.
She whispered in my ear,
“I’m going to love you until you die.”

A warm sensation was spreading in my waist.
My skin was tingling, and I wanted for her,
This woman who had tortured me,
To grab my breasts and suck on them.
I felt like a passenger in my own brain.

Before I knew it, I was sitting in the tub.
The woman had climbed in behind me,
And was setting up a warm bath.
I felt like a defenseless child
As she washed my body with soap,
Then scrubbed my hair with two shampoos.
I sat still as a statue
And let her do whatever she wished.

After she rinsed me with warm water,
She dried me off with fluffy towels
That smelled of flowers and strawberries.
She used a brush to smooth my hair.
“So beautiful and silky,”
She said softly as she caressed my head.

She put her hand on my nape
As she guided me, both still naked,
Into the bedroom where she had tortured me.
She only stopped touching me
To sit comfortably on the edge of the bed,
Then patted her toned thighs and said,
“You need to relax. Come over here.”

She was so attentive and glad to have me,
That I had no clue how to handle it.
I lowered my gaze and shuffled up to her,
Then sat down on the matress.
She kissed my neck, and whispered in:
“Lie down on my lap, sideways.”

I did as she ordered, and rested my face
On her toned, shapely thighs
(Which were moist with perspiration
And smelled nicely of soap),
But with my back to the woman.

My heart was beating hard,
I had to breathe through my mouth,
And goosebumps were spreading
All over this new body.
“Don’t be so shy,” the woman said,
“You have to turn the other way.”

I gulped, obeyed her and looked up.
Her face was full of lust,
And she had a huge smile.
“You are such a pretty girl.
I’m going to make you happy.”

I became aware of the scent of her pussy,
Which was warm and damp with sweat.
My mouth flooded with saliva
While I stared at her glistening lips.
Her clit was peeking out
As if asking to meet my mouth.

She cupped the back of my head.
“Why are you making me wait?
You know what you have to do.”
I closed my eyes as she pulled me in,
And when her pubes tickled my nose,
I probed her pussy with my tongue.

I licked and sucked and slurped
While she fondled my bare ass cheeks.
Back when I was a man,
This woman had been guarded,
But now she was moaning freely.
“You are going to make me come quick,”
She praised me in a hoarse voice.

She had destroyed my penis and testicles,
But I was devoted to pleasuring this woman.
I was screaming in my mind
While my tongue swirled around in her insides
And she threaded her fingers through my hair.

I could feel her orgasm building
Through her tendons and her muscles.
I sucked on her clit as she writhed,
Until she finally came all over my face
In a cascade of hot, sticky liquid.

It took her a while to recover her breath.
“Oh, you’re so good at this, and I needed it.
You see, just because I’m beautiful and rich
Doesn’t mean that I don’t need a good pet
To keep my pussy wet all the time.”

She told me to sit up so she could stand up.
“Lie down on your back,” she ordered me.
Again, I obeyed, and my head sank in her pillows.
A surge of tears was pushing against my throat;
I felt completely helpless and lost.
I crossed a forearm over my face,
So I could spare myself the sight of her.

I felt how the woman climbed onto the bed,
And planted her feet on both sides of my torso.
Then I held my breath in surprise
When I felt a warm liquid splash on my stomach.
I looked up: the woman was peeing on me,
As her wide smile displayed her white teeth.

It was so absurd that she would sully me like this
After she had given me a bath carefully,
That I only stared up at her chuckling self,
And she took the opportunity to step forward
So the stream of piss doused my face.

I raised my hands defensively
As plenty of piss got in my mouth.
“W-what the fuck?” I complained,
But I felt too weak to defend myself.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,”
She said as she stepped back.
“Did you like the taste of my urine?”
She asked as she smirked at me.
I only shook my head;
I was afraid to even look her in the eyes.

The room smelled pungently of ammonia.
She chuckled happily and patted my chest
As she climbed down from the bed.
I was rubbing my eyes and containing tears
When I felt her grabbing my left wrist,
Then fastening a cuff around it.
I knew better than to resist,
And I barely had any strength to spare.

Once I lay there with my arms spread wide,
The woman crouched next to the bed
And dragged out a black chest
From which she pulled out a bottle of lube
And a large, purple strap-on dildo.

‘You Choose Who Owns You, Pt. 2’ by Jon Ureña