The Box, by Chanilover
Posted: Thu Jan 24, 2008 10:06 am
Enjoy!
The Box.
“I know she has come to test him. No man has ever been tested with Hypalia’s box. Tonight, I may lose my son.”
Violent flashes of lightning illuminated the otherwise black sky, the peals of thunder echoed through the castle walls. Paul trembled with fear. He had had a restless night, the dream had been disturbing. He had nocturnal visions on a regular basis, and had done for the last couple of years, which were accompanied by stirrings in his loins and emissions after vigorous rubbings. The visions of female voluptuousness had recently given way to horrifying sights of an overweight woman with hairy legs and a mono-brow. Such visions invariably caused Paul to lose his erection, leaving him frustrated and confused.
The forthcoming move to Arrakis had not helped matters, disturbing his sleep. The hustle and bustle of the castle had reached fever pitch, and young Paul was finding it difficult to concentrate on his studies.
He was feeling scared, lonely but strangely intrigued by the woman who had landed on a Guild frigate last night, apparently from a heighliner which had swung into orbit from a direct path from Arrakis. He had caught a glimpse of her this morning. She cut a strange figure, and the deference with which she was accorded by everyone around her impressed and repelled Paul in equal measure. He had heard her described as Hypalia, the Grand Drama Llama of Arrakeen.
Paul knocked at his mother’s door and entered. He was greeted by the sight of his mother kow-towing on the floor towards Hypalia.
Who was this woman in the corduroy trousers and tacky, 1980’s Lady Diana style blouse buttoned right up to the neck, the physical constraints in her couture mirroring the suffocating narrowness of her bigoted mind and empty, loveless soul?
“Leave us, Jessica. I’m not in the mood to argue. This thread is closed. Exact quotes, please, what is your problem exactly? Don’t answer back, a one legged blind lesbian from the other side of the galaxy who was beaten by her father and run over by an ice cream van might take offence at anything you may say, giving me no option but to delete what you have just said, suspend you speaking rights, or possibly render you mute on a permanent basis”
Jessica paled in fright. She had witnessed first hand the legendary hissy fits of this completely irrational creature. She left the room.
Hypalia regarded Paul, and slowly pulled down her corduroy trousers, revealing a bush so overgrown and unkempt that it reminded Paul of the forests of strange vines in Ecaz. He was also reminded of the filmbooks he had seen of the long-lost Amazonian rainforests of Old Terra.
“Put your hand in my box” ordered Hypalia.
“She’s using that nagging, irritating Voice on me” thought Paul. Despite his mother’s training, he found it impossible to resist.
“What is in the box?” he enquired of Hypalia, his voice quivering with fear.
“Pain” she replied. “Stop! I hold at your neck the Gom Jabbar, the high-handed, hyper-sensitive and totally irrational delete button. Say the wrong thing, and you will feel pain upon pain as I relentlessly bore you half shitless with my constant whining.”
Paul placed his hand in Hypalia’s box, sick with revulsion as his hand moved into the cold, heartless gaping cavern between Hypalia’s flabby, hairy thighs. His mouth retching, he noticed vaginal discharges running down her mis-shapen legs, noxious smells which struck a fear at a level in him which was almost primordial in its intensity.
“Ooh, yes,” groaned Hypalia, “Mmm, shove it in right up to your elbow”
Like a veterinary surgeon removing a calf from a cow’s innards, Paul inserted his arm in the gaping, heaving mound of flesh.
“Enough!” shrieked Hypalia. “Kull wahad, no man-child ever withstood such revulsion before. Remove your arm, young human”
Paul removed his arm from her Hypalia’s festering muff, and stifled a laugh as the castle windows reverberated to the sounds of an enormous pussy fart.
“Well,” said Hypalia, “I must return forthwith to Arrakeen. “Arnoloco, prepare my travelling bags”
Paul recoiled in shock at the sight of the creature who came in from the anteroom, it seemed to be half-human, half-slig with a two foot tongue encrusted from dried faeces, clearly the result of incessant arse-licking.
Hypalia then left the room with Arnoloco, the pair leaving a trail of pussy batter and slime on the castle’s stone floors.
“We’d best get that wiped up, young Master” muttered Thufir. “Tomorrow we leave for Arrakis”.
The Box.
“I know she has come to test him. No man has ever been tested with Hypalia’s box. Tonight, I may lose my son.”
Violent flashes of lightning illuminated the otherwise black sky, the peals of thunder echoed through the castle walls. Paul trembled with fear. He had had a restless night, the dream had been disturbing. He had nocturnal visions on a regular basis, and had done for the last couple of years, which were accompanied by stirrings in his loins and emissions after vigorous rubbings. The visions of female voluptuousness had recently given way to horrifying sights of an overweight woman with hairy legs and a mono-brow. Such visions invariably caused Paul to lose his erection, leaving him frustrated and confused.
The forthcoming move to Arrakis had not helped matters, disturbing his sleep. The hustle and bustle of the castle had reached fever pitch, and young Paul was finding it difficult to concentrate on his studies.
He was feeling scared, lonely but strangely intrigued by the woman who had landed on a Guild frigate last night, apparently from a heighliner which had swung into orbit from a direct path from Arrakis. He had caught a glimpse of her this morning. She cut a strange figure, and the deference with which she was accorded by everyone around her impressed and repelled Paul in equal measure. He had heard her described as Hypalia, the Grand Drama Llama of Arrakeen.
Paul knocked at his mother’s door and entered. He was greeted by the sight of his mother kow-towing on the floor towards Hypalia.
Who was this woman in the corduroy trousers and tacky, 1980’s Lady Diana style blouse buttoned right up to the neck, the physical constraints in her couture mirroring the suffocating narrowness of her bigoted mind and empty, loveless soul?
“Leave us, Jessica. I’m not in the mood to argue. This thread is closed. Exact quotes, please, what is your problem exactly? Don’t answer back, a one legged blind lesbian from the other side of the galaxy who was beaten by her father and run over by an ice cream van might take offence at anything you may say, giving me no option but to delete what you have just said, suspend you speaking rights, or possibly render you mute on a permanent basis”
Jessica paled in fright. She had witnessed first hand the legendary hissy fits of this completely irrational creature. She left the room.
Hypalia regarded Paul, and slowly pulled down her corduroy trousers, revealing a bush so overgrown and unkempt that it reminded Paul of the forests of strange vines in Ecaz. He was also reminded of the filmbooks he had seen of the long-lost Amazonian rainforests of Old Terra.
“Put your hand in my box” ordered Hypalia.
“She’s using that nagging, irritating Voice on me” thought Paul. Despite his mother’s training, he found it impossible to resist.
“What is in the box?” he enquired of Hypalia, his voice quivering with fear.
“Pain” she replied. “Stop! I hold at your neck the Gom Jabbar, the high-handed, hyper-sensitive and totally irrational delete button. Say the wrong thing, and you will feel pain upon pain as I relentlessly bore you half shitless with my constant whining.”
Paul placed his hand in Hypalia’s box, sick with revulsion as his hand moved into the cold, heartless gaping cavern between Hypalia’s flabby, hairy thighs. His mouth retching, he noticed vaginal discharges running down her mis-shapen legs, noxious smells which struck a fear at a level in him which was almost primordial in its intensity.
“Ooh, yes,” groaned Hypalia, “Mmm, shove it in right up to your elbow”
Like a veterinary surgeon removing a calf from a cow’s innards, Paul inserted his arm in the gaping, heaving mound of flesh.
“Enough!” shrieked Hypalia. “Kull wahad, no man-child ever withstood such revulsion before. Remove your arm, young human”
Paul removed his arm from her Hypalia’s festering muff, and stifled a laugh as the castle windows reverberated to the sounds of an enormous pussy fart.
“Well,” said Hypalia, “I must return forthwith to Arrakeen. “Arnoloco, prepare my travelling bags”
Paul recoiled in shock at the sight of the creature who came in from the anteroom, it seemed to be half-human, half-slig with a two foot tongue encrusted from dried faeces, clearly the result of incessant arse-licking.
Hypalia then left the room with Arnoloco, the pair leaving a trail of pussy batter and slime on the castle’s stone floors.
“We’d best get that wiped up, young Master” muttered Thufir. “Tomorrow we leave for Arrakis”.