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Hello, I am The Black Orchid, immortal and spawn of lions My mother mated with a lion. I am like most other women save for my talons instead or fingernails, and my hunting of small animals, killing them with my bare hands. I yearn to run and feast on them after the hunt. I love the blood lust. I am three thousand years old. I summoned a redbird from a tree to land on my forearm that I might pluck a feather from it. I love the beauty of the animals, and crisp white winter landscape. I let my polar bear coat fall revealing my nudeness underneath. I yearn for the brutal feel of frost on my nude body. Life can be harsh and I relish it. One should never be too soft like a chocolate cherry.
I step out of my fur lined boots and the cold pierces my feet and I am thrilled. Overhead a gaggle of wild geese honks their way across the gray snow pocked sky and below me on the gold Carp swim in icy nothingness. I can see my breath in the air like blue smoke. In the distance I hear sleigh bells, and the tinny laughter of little children.
I see movement in the bushes and I start my chase, legs pounding, heart racing, I advance on the hare, perhaps the Easter Bunny. I grasp her by the throat and break her neck. Then I devour her like a glutton, ripping her every sinew apart. Then when the sun drops like a bloody ball from the sky I head back to prepare for my Christmas Eve Party. It will be my serfs and the girls, Lady Lynda, Auntie Carol, and Wanda Lust, Ex-Crack Whore, and their spouses. The featured drink will be Remy And Eggnog, There will traditional fare with game animals like elk and deer, and all manner of vegetables, breads and pies. We shall decorate a thirty foot Blue Spruce tree. My acolytes will wear black and red leather loin cloths and nothing else Less is more, My Darlings, And Merry Christmas, Lovies!
Seymour Toze eyes widened with wonderment as he gazed at the rustic interior of the Hautdogs restaurant. The place looked as grand as the finest steak houses in NYC. Toze stared at the high domed ceiling. He grinned with delight at the modern teak wood chairs and tables. Sophisticated yetcomfy he thought. The full high end liquor cabinet he noticed was the same kind of wood as the chairs. He reflected how the sameness gave the place a sense of stylish unity.
He sweetly smiled at his wife. “Yes my darling Lady Lynda. I noticed Foot from us is the fully stocked wine cellar. It’s filled with the most sophisticated windes from NY state, Napa Valley California, France, Italy, Spain. You know foot from us reminds of my pedicures.I love its formal wear only. A tie is appreciated but not required. And women must wear either a dress or a skirt and blouse or top. No sneakers. Heaven forbid. No ruffians here indeed.”
“His wife Lady Lynda gushed “Yes No male teens exposing their gluteous maximus” We deserve to be here you and I. We earned our right to imbibe the delectable hautdogs and potent potables. Both of us paid our dues. I am so proud of you suggesting we dine here. My love, Seymour Toze. They serve brats but they don’t serve brats” Lady Lynda chuckled at her witticism
“Only purist of intensions for you my darling Out of all the fine dining you could pick I truly believe it was the right choice The décor the epitomy of sophistication. The cuisine is superb Why should we eat elsewhere?” Toze asked rhetorically.
This place received rave reviews.No wonder its so crowded” as she quickly perused the many occupied tables and vermillion leather and polished wood booths.
“If someone doesn’t come over I’ll be raving mad Lady Lynda snapped in a ladylike manner. The service here is as slow as dial up internet. Its the world wide wait staff wait” she fumed.
“Remember patience is a virtue. The chef and cooks want the hautdogs, wieners and brats to be the epitomy of delectability. This place is to hotdogs as is “Strip House” is to steak.” replied Lady Lynda’s husband.
Seymour’s wife gasped when she heard her husband mention strip house. Why did he mention those places of ill repute she wondered.
“I’m truly looking forward to getting into my mouth six inches of juicy succulent,firm hautdog.” mentioned Lady Lynda licking her lips with joyful anticipation.
“I sense a feeling of jealousy Seymour dearest. I’m only describing my jubilance in sinking my teeth into such meaty tasty hautdogs. ”
“I just wish I could get some waitress attention.” sighed Seymour Toze.
“Why did you insist on waitress? The waiters are as competent.”? queried Lady Lynda a bit miffed.
“Okay waitress, waiter, waitperson, waitstaff, whatever” Perusing this sophisticated menu is making me famished
Seymour Toze chose the Deluxe Ethan’s Famous with authentic baseball park mustard, classic relish. His wife decided on the Vienna Weiner on the whole wheat roll. They both thought it was so delightful there were vegan hautdogs on the menu for those inclined.
The waiter finally came. Seymour stifled the desire to say he was famished. Lady Lynda knowing this smiled knowingly at her mate. They told him their selections.
Soon their orders came. The couple thought the entrees looked scrumptious. They quickly said grace and dug in.
“Oh Seymour I am thoroughly enjoying eating my dog” Lady Lynda mumbled between tasty morsels of sheer enjoyment. Seymour Toze wholeheartedly thought the same as he bit into each succulent bite. They were so pleased with their meal they eagerly wanted to go back as soon as possible.
A Lady’s Dilemma
Auntie Carol sometimes marveled at the ease Herman Sherman shifted into Emma Enigma, his alter ego. Herman was a hermaphrodite who had two separate identities, that of a man and that of a woman. Herman was an A type male who was both brusque and kind. He was a homebody who enjoyed all things, domestic, such as home cooked meals and quiet nights with a book and a snifter of Remy. He adored Auntie Carol and showed it constantly by word and deed. Herman, could be domineering at times but Auntie Carol never contradicted him outright but she did a water on stone metamorphosis on him. She gently wore him down. He was a very conventional man in the sexual sense or the “lay down: spread ‘em” school of sexuality.
Emma, his female personae, was wry, witty, and perverse. Nothing got past Emma, who was preternaturally intelligent, could not be manipulated. She liked the night life and wearing “glam” clothes, sequins, velvet, furs and diamonds. Emma had a very watery sense of morality, a “whatever the traffic will bear” kind of thing. She was distinctly a “Vogue” type of person: while Auntie Carol was a “Lady’s Home Journal” kind of woman.
Auntie Carol pampered Herman with warmth and affection. She treated Emma like a bomb that needed diffusing. Emma liked witty, bitchy games of wit and to challenge everything Auntie Carol did. They often argued deep into the night until they both were physically exhausted, and eventually, they both erupted into tears. Then they would fall into each other’s arms swearing eternal fealty. Then Emma would get into her Dominatrix garb, a gold sequined bustier, diamond studded garter belt, green hose and high boots. And she would demand that Auntie Carol bake her a cherry pie, get her a dish of chocolate gelato, or kiss her boots. Her demands were varied and sometimes very humorous like mooning the nosy neighbors. She only tapped Auntie Carol on the back with her cat o’ nine tails never drawing blood. After all the drama they made love like natives from the isles
Both Lady Lynda, Seymour Toze felt quite mixed emotions thinking of the Rodeo. Part of them were feeling it was an exhilerating experience. Seymour especially liked the fancy scandily clad beauty queen baton twirlers There was a pang of guilt too. He justified himself by thinking he was only being true to his manly nature. Lady Lynda enjoyed the bronco riders, the clowns, the fancy horseback riders, everything except the pretty young women with barely any clothes on.
Yet with their enjoying there was a deep sense of guilt. It was nothing to with anything regarding the show. The concern was were they being frivolous. Was it okay for Toze to spend his hard earned wages. As it was now he worked two jobs. One was a shoe salesman, pedicurist the “Into Leather” shoe store. Plus his moonlighting as a fashion photographer of female models in open toed spikes and stilettos. Yet he and his wife did deserve some enjoyment. He recalled the saying that started with all work and no play. He hoped for a solution
Seymore Toze sighed as he scratched his wispy burnt vermilion hued hair. There must be a way out of this perplexing problem he morosely reflected. He slightly grimaced in disapproval as he thought of how they were so consistent. True they did go to the circus but that was so long ago. It just seemed that they were fated to watch their pennies. Not enjoy life. Yet even with his pessimism Toze somehow felt the futre was not entirely bleak. His mood was that of disapointment but there was an inkling of hope.
His wife Lady Lynda conversely saw the plight as a challenge. It was her dutiful, wifely responsibility to come up with a idea for a way to enjoy themselves without breaking their budget She clenched her fists in determination as she told herself she must be complete control of herself and never lose her thin spark of optimism, how ever little there was. Just then like a sudden flash she decided to think of some entertainment possibilities
As she thought of them she beamed as her confidence gradually grew. She quickly dismissed going to a professional sports game, seeing a famous performer. The half way decent seats were too expensive. Going to the mall they could be tempted to overspend. They could purchase items that could be impulse buys. All that walking could be good exercise. It could get tiring too. There must be a solution. Suddenly she grinned as she experienced her aha moment. They could go to the local pancake place and then see a bargain movie. That would be absolutely perfect. What a great idea!!! she proudly beamed.
“Seymour its perfection. We can dine at the local pancake restaurant and then see a PG movie at our local movie theater. Seymour’s wife waited eagerly for his response. Her smiled turned to a frown as she saw the concerned look in his eyes. It was not so much one of anger but of concern. His limpid grey eyes zoomed into her’s as if they were missiles. He spoke slowly as if he wanted to make certain she understand. That she understood completely.
” Those teenaged hooligans use the F work as if its the only way to end every sentence. Its like their version of the period.” exclaimed Toze barely hiding his disgust. And their parents should be ashamed of themselves for raising such ruffians. Its true this country truly is going into a hell in a hand basket. No my sweetykins a pancake place is not for us proper folks” Seymour Toze firmly proclaimed.
Lady Lynda looked lovingly at her husband. She believed he was telling her this for her own good. One thing she hated, she told herself was hearing vulgar language. what ever happened to expressions such as gosh, golly, gee and jiminy Cricket. Those words were good enough for their generation. It was so brilliant of Seymour to think of a possibility. It was clear he loved her enough to look out for her best interest. The woman beamed with pride she married such a bright man.
They both thought they should put on their thinking caps to come up with a new idea. Lady Lynda knew it was no use quarelling with her husband. She made certain she wouldn’t suggest something inappropriate. It was the wife’s duty to respect her spouse. That meant to not disagree. Her wifely responsibility was to listen to his wise words.
“What would you suggest Seymour?”
“I’m so pleased you want to know my sweet Lady Lynda. I propose we dine at that new weiner restaurant a couple blocks from us “Diamond Dawgies” Its a very pragmatic idea. Its a charming little bistro that serves the most delicious hotdog delicacies. But its not like the franks at those baseball stadiums with that plebian yellow mustard. Plus they feature such tasty sauerkraut and. Let’s go. I’m certain we’ll love dining there.
“I’m certain I’ll love this new dinging pleasure too. Let’s do it. (to be continued)
Lady Lynda smiled bemusedly as she envisioned last night’s wild pajama party hosted by the Black Orchid. Lady Lynda’s reflected how her confidant Auntie Carol was there too. If she truly was Sumerian the Black Orchid aged rather well. She didn’t look over thirty Her sleek low necked, micro mini black satin dress barely covered her curvacious form. What was her real name? Lady Lynda fanned herself as she recalled the racy soire. She mused how orchid was Greek for testes. Howa lovely flower’s name could be so provocative. That party certainly was provocative. Such goings on, such titillations , such sensuality. It was like everybody there let it all hang out and then some.
Lady Lynda and Seymour Toze snuggled together on their love seat as they watched their absolute favorite afternoon talk show. They loved the perky , personable blonde hostess The couple laughed at the television woman’s monologue. Next they heard the guests and topics. Seymour and Lady Lynda heard there’d be highlights of a real rodeo in Longview TX.
“I just remembered darling There’s going to be a local rodeo“Yes it is.Id be fun to go us two.’ Seeing those cowboys, bronkin bulls, clowns and all that rodeo stuff” “Yippee eye kay aye the rodeo!!!! yelled the couple with glee. Now was their chance Seymour Toze felt as excited as seeing his first pedicure customer woman. His wife was as thrilled as seeing Dan. D. Walker talk clearly. She immediately thought of him when the word rodeo was mentioned on the show. They excitedly talked about seeing, real cowboys with genuine leather boots with fancy carved designs. They;d watch them ride horses running wild on the dirt floor. The cowboys would lasso those calves as quickly as Seymour Toze’s beady eyes eyed the toes of his female pedicure customers.
Lady Lynda and the love of her life, Seymour Toze sat at the third tiered level of the stadium. They were right in between the top level with box seats and ground floor seating. The two thought it was a terrific unobstructed view They were glad too they bought binoculars just in case. Lady Lynda tried to stifle her disapproval when she couldn’t help noticing how Seymour seemed to be quite interested in the curvaceous female drum majorettes in their rather skimpy cowgirl style outfits. Seymour immediately noticed his honey’s disapproval. He started to put his left arm around her while with his right arm holding the binoculars. Awww honey baby its only a show.” “Yes its that’s all it should be “ snapped Seymour Toze’s wife.
The twosome saw Native American men and women in full regalia including colorful headdresses with beautiful colorful plumes. Next came the Cowboys on their majestic black steeds. There were the clowns too giving the show a silly yet fun flavor.
Then next in the processions the first act out of the gate as quick as snapping one’s fingers bronco bull riders. They looked no more then their late teens. Some of their skills were truly impressive. They gave everyone who saw them they were practicing their rodeo skills since they were knee high to that proverbial grasshopper. Like they were little enough to look up to Jiminy Cricket
Lady Lynda noticed one of the bronco riders was somewhat older then the rest. She began to look at him more closely. As she did the woman immediately noticed it was Dan. D. The woman couldn’t believe her eyes. The man she met at the “World’s Oldest Freak Show” The man who virtually everyone in Intercourse PA thought was so exotic because they never heard a Texan accent before. There he was on that bull riding him like a pro. The couple noticed how when the bull dipped forward , Walker would lean backwards. When the animal rose on his two feet, his rider would bend down. Each time keeping a perfect zig to the beast’s zag. It was a joy to behold such symmetry. At least the ride was over and Dan D. Walker shouted Yippee kay Eye as he jumped off victorious.
He then looked up and saw the Tozes. He ran over , pumped up with victory, to where his friends sat. He smiled and waved at them. It was such a great feeling to see his old pals. Lady Lynda and Seymour Toze waved and smiled back. It was a terrific way to end the day at the rodeo.
written by Lynda Appell
Hello all, this is the Black Orchid speaking, ancient soothsayer of Sumeria. I am three thousand years old and I have been both a wretch and a conqueror of men in this life. Now, I am surrounded by male acolytes or serfs in my mansion on the hill. I have suffered crushing defeat and absolute triumph in my life. I was once a slave girl to the infamous Caligula who taught me to be timorous and submissive. How timorous was I that I freed all the slave girls when I drove a dagger into his heart. How rich it was to see him die by my hand, and his last words were, “I knew you’d do it one day.” I like to think I gave him the gift of humility.
But enough about me. I am having a Pajama Party for my friends Lady Lynda, Auntie Carol, and Crack Whore, Wanda Lust. I want my friends to experience epicurean, sensual delight. How? I have trained my followers in the realm of sensual pleasure. They arrive at seven o’clock toting a large tureen of hot chocolate laced with rum. I trump them with a large, chocolate statue of the Egyptian Sun God, Ra. They break off pieces of him and, Wanda, ever the harlot, takes the cock. Bittersweet chocolate: bittersweet life. They descend on him like a ravening hoard and diets be damned.
Auntie Carol, and Lady Lynda, mavens of the fifties, wear pastel pink, cotton, baby doll nighties and puppy slippers while Wanda Lust wears a scarlet peignoir gown with slits up to the ass and dyed red ostrich feathers and thigh high patent leather, pirate boots. I wear a black leather middy top which leaves my taut belly exposed and a red vinyl mini-skirt with eight inch heels. I am six feet tall in my bare feet. My skirt which barely clears my ass leaves little to the imagination.
I line up my twenty serfs for their perusal. Only one is permissible. Lady Lynda choses Rolf, a sturdy Norwegian man with platinum hair, while Auntie Carol chooses Carlito, a dark and rustic Spanish gypsy of the raw umber eyes. Wanda chooses the blue black African stud, Mustafa. I choose RobesPierre, my lusty French playmate who has the gift of comedy. The serfs all wear black leather loin cloths with a peak-a-boo nature. We are aware of their rock hard cocks beneath the scant leather.
They start by serving us Absinthe and Green Chartreuse in pewter goblets dating back to the Roman Empire. The entire room is lit by black candles and our shadows are cast on the red walls of my parlor like a noir film of the thirties. The scent of Frankensense and Myhr infuses the room and the strong scent of Eucalyptus oil comes off the serf’s skin. On the CD there is a recording of whales calling out to one another over the sound of crashing waves. The sound of the whales reminds us of the secrets we hold dearly within the dark chambers of our hearts and nobody speaks.
After an hour or so, the acolytes bring in raw oysters on the half shell with lemons and hot sauce. After that they bring in platters of meats, vegetables and mushroom brie cheese. And I put on Gregorian chants reminiscent of the Old World. On can envision monks in sack cloth robes making the sign of the cross in the still air.
Then they vanish and return laden with basins of rose petals and hot water to do our feet. My feel slip soundlessly into the warm water and Pierre lifts one of my feet placing my toes on his hard cock and he laughs. I see Mustafa has Wanda’s toes in his mouth and the others are giving strong foot massages to their suppliant mistresses.
A suitable amount of liquor has passed their lips and II demand that they strip naked for a body massage. I lead them down a dark corridor lit by wall sconces to my exercise room. They lie face down on lush white Turkish towels. The men do deep body massages beginning at the neck and stopping at the feet. And if their fingers should stray between the legs, I won’t be the one to tell.
The sound of moaning and Nina Simone’s bittersweet ballad, Don’t Smoke In Bed. “Listen,
My Darling, don’t Smoke in Bed….”
Erasmus Nutley looked utterly determined as he stood directly in the front of the diner’s entrance. The man confidently swung his arms and clenched his first as he looked for the waitperson to seat him. His humped reed thin back rattled like a twig in the air conditioned breeze. His watery grey eyes furtively darted like a hawk eyeing his next meal. There was no way he would be taken advantage of he swore. He was a paying customer He demanded to be respected.
Nutley kept fidgeting. The man glanced at his watch. He saw he waited for ten whole minutes. The waitress told him he didn’t need to wait. She smiled, since she thought he’d be pleased he was free to seat himself. Her smile soon turned into a frown when her customer sternly told her she should be ashamed for not letting a wait person seat their customers. The female cashier retorted with this was just a diner. a casual bite to eat. Erasmus “Excuses, excuses for your lack of civility. She replied “Well if you don’t like it here you’re free to leave” Nutley snapped “What and deny my right to dine in a restaurant where I am able to enjoy a civil pleasure? Its the principle my dear. Its the principle” he sneered.
The young female waitress gritted her teeth. What next? Cut his meat? Spoon feed him? He didn’t want service. He wanted to be treated like a baby. The counter woman wiped her brow as if to say I wish I could brush this creep off. She was just trying to satisfy this customer the best she could. Though it was clear he didn’t deserve such consideration. What he deserved was to be kicked where the sun don’t shine.
Just then a dowdy middle aged woman walked in. she wore white leather pumps that perfectly matched her dainty white gloves. Her prim flower print dress delicately skimmed the bottom of her knees. Her panty hose fit snugly covered her a smidgen too heavy legs. She carried a white leather clutch. The woman look the epitomy of conservative fashion. On her pale lemon organza blouse was a small conservatively stylish rose brooch. Her makeup consisted of loose light beige face powder, rose pink lipstick and mascara. The woman’s eyes were blue and green. Her features still pert for a middle aged woman.
The confrontation between Nutley and the wait woman immediately gripped her attention. She gasped as she heard the harraunging of Erasmus toward the poor dear victimized woman. Lady Lynda immediately wanted to come to the poor dear’s rescue. The woman determinedly told herself It was up to her use her immense knowledge of manners to deescalate the tense situation. Yes but of course, true to herself, in a lady like way. Lady Lynda after all was consistently a lady.
The self proclaimed etiquette expert walked just past Nutley and the waitress. Seymour Toze’s wife dropped her brush. “Oh dear. How clumsy of me” Erasmus immediately looked up to check out the sudden commotion. Erasmus glared at Lady Lynda. He remembered how much a nuisance she was. Especially with her kumquat persimmon cakes. What in hell was she doing he sneered. His nemesis was not taken aback She held her stride because she knew she was on a mission of civility.
“Mr Erasmus Nutley. That is not the way to handle things. It is much better to use sugar than lemons. If you really want somebody to be cooperative you must tell tem nicely. Everybody has feelings. I suppose even you”
Speaking of lemons I’d much rather be a sourpuss then someone so sweet they make the Dickens character “Tiny Time” seem like a sourpuss. .” Erasmus told her. “I know you can get a lot more done with people if you treat them with sugar instead treating them with lemons” Nutley’s nemesis replied.
“You know I’m diabetic type two and I need to careful with sweets” “You know darn well what I meant my dear Erasmus. I’m not telling not to complain but to try to do it considering other people’s feelings. You can be a lot more persuasive that way. Come on try it. Please do? “Okay I’ll do it to get you off my back” he snapped. With that Erasmus Nutley bit his lip and did what Lady Lynda suggested. The result was everyone was happy.
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Lady Lynda is making certain the house is spic and span clean for her husband Seymour Toze. She would love to whistle while she works but she when she tries only air comes out. She feels so inadequate. How tragic she thinks being born with bucal apraxia. It is a major heartship she must bear. She can never whistle a happy tune. But the woman smiles as she recalls how she can conversely immediately think of a song that goes with what ever she is doing. Right now she is thinking of “We all shine on” as she shines her brass candlestick holders. “And we all shine on. On and on and on”
Seymour Toz’es wifypoo is grateful for being married to Seymour even if he most appreciates her toes. At least he does at times enjoys the rest of her body. She likes how he is affectionate Sometimes to Lady Lynda affection is as important as being intimate.
Lady Lynda decided to take a break by listening to her solemate’s 78’s collection. She casually perused the records until she noticed Bullmoose Jacksons “I want a Bowlegged Woman” She became quite intrigued She recalled her spouse’s compassion for those unfortunate freaks from the “World’s Cheapest Freak show Could his concern with differently formed manifested itself in his musical tastes?
She reflected on how noble her mate was with his keen interest in those who suffer from inborn misfortunes. It was not their fault they were so different from normal folks. Just imagine no sense of direction? The horrot. Yet with adversity sometimes comes strength.
The woman played the record. It felt so good to enjoy the contraptions of the past and not deal with the newfangled gadgets of today. She thought much she thoroughly disliked MP3 players, CDs, or even DVDs for that matter. They were much too fancy for her. She was old fashion and proud of it.
The sound creaked somewhat but the lyrics could still be easily heard. She read the lyrics were by Glover Nix. Who ever he was she sneered.
“I want a bow legged Woman that’s all I’ll fall in love with Her right from the start Because her big fat Legs are so far apart I want a bow legged Woman right now I want to find me A gal somehow She’s gotta be built like an ol’ bass fiddle Big bow legs and a hole in the middle Gotta be on my way, To find a bow legged Woman today. (He wants a bow legged woman) Yeah (He wants a bow legged woman “…
Suddenly Lady Lynda heard the clock chime. She realized it was time for Seymour to come home. The w woman started to panic. She told herself she totally lost track of the time. ..
Just then the recording began skipping. The woman tried to make the needle be in a situation where it wouldn’t jump. Lady Lynda felt like she would jump if she heard Seymour open the door. If only she could find a way to fix the disk and put it away.
Seymour grandly opened the door. “I’m home darling. I’m thrilled my “Into Leather”shoe store boss promoted me to top pedicurist. “Oh darling you’re listening to “Bowlegged Woman” but now I think the song now should be Billy Joel’s “I Love You Just the Way You are” Lady Lynda is making certain the house is spic and span clean for her husband Seymour Toze. She would love to whistle while she works but she when she tries only air comes out. She feels so inadequate. How tragic she thinks being born with bucal apraxia. It is a major heartship she must bear. She can never whistle a happy tune. But the woman smiles as she recalls how she can conversely immediately think of a song that goes with what ever she is doing. Right now she is thinking of “We all shine on” as she shines her brass candlestick holders. “And we all shine on. On and on and on”
Seymour Toz’es wifypoo is grateful for being married to Seymour even if he most appreciates her toes. At least he does at times enjoys the rest of her body. She likes how he is affectionate Sometimes to Lady Lynda affection is as important as being intimate.
Writer Lynda Appell