From Magic Kingdom
by Mark Schultz
Part 2: Everything Scrubbed Clean
Second Prologue
FIONA enters.
FIONA
I have this fantasy? Okay. It goes like this. I'm walking down the street right? Maybe I'm shopping. Maybe I'm just walking. But theres me. On the street. And theres this van. Like looming. Like a big van. And it's white. And kind of icky. And retro in a bad way. But I'm walking and singing a song. And everythings okay. And I pass the van. And it opens. And an arm. Like a big. Hairy arm. Just. Comes out. And it grabs me and pulls me in. And I'm like: what? And inside the van. There are like. Three. Gorgeous. Men. Who are mad. Angry. And they rip off my clothes. I am really well-dressed. And they rip off my clothes. And I am naked. And they are hard. And I want them. They treat me rough. At first. Poring over me with their hands. And their lips. And hair. They smell like gasoline and sometimes like old tires. They are rough. And hot. And rough. And its painful, you know at first it's really painful? And I'm like: no. And I protest and kick and scratch. But they're like too hot and lusty? I can't stop them. And I start to kinda like it. I don't let them know. They use me. They fuck me. The three of them. Sometimes together. Sometimes separate. Days go by. Constant fucking. I always protest. I am numb and raw all at the same time. But I start to like it. More. They keep coming. Each one pounding into me. And I'm thinking: when will it end, Fiona? And then. Just then. Probably while one of them is fucking me? This intense look on his face? Probably then. I start to love them. All of them. And after like a month with me? (And I've not showered or anything.) They know I love them. They can feel it. And it starts to change them. And they start to love me. I am gentle. I am like pure goodness. I am like pure light. And when I go down on them? Like one at a time? I save them. We all love each other. And it's like none of the other stuff ever really happened. Really. The roughness. Except when it was hot.
When they let me go? We all cry. And I give them each a kiss. I don't hold back on the tongue. They buy me new clothes. They are gorgeous. I don't want to leave them. They say they'll be watching me. Following me. That we'll meet again.
They are so generous.
Black.
1 comment:
Thanks for the introduction to an incredible play. Love the blog's concept. David Weiner's "Blood Orange," also available from DPS, might be up your alley. Definitely worth considering here. Look forward to reading more!
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