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Crap Vampire interviews Pablo Vision |
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Crap Vampire: what is your favourite thing to eat?
Pablo Vision: my favourite thing to eat is not food.
Crap Vampire: what is your favourite number?
Pablo Vision: I do not have a favourite number. I am, however, of the opinion that 239 is the most melancholy of the three digit numbers.
Crap Vampire: what do you like best out of sultanas or Santana?
Pablo Vision: Santana from 1969 is better than sultanas from 1969. Sultanas from the present are better than Santana from recent times.
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| Submission Date: |
| 01 Mar 2008 |
Category: |
Short story
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In Podcast and Chap-book
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a day in the life
Her hand moves slowly, from my breasts, and over my stomach, with exquisite touch, and tantalising purpose. There is an agonizing moment where she stops. I thrust my sex towards that hand and those fingers. She slowly moves back up. My desire is overwhelming, but she is in control; her mouth busy sucking, and teasing, at my swollen nipples. And then the fingers touch my sex-lips, sliding and probing; her middle finger over my clitoris; the urgency of my need, pressing into her hand and her fingers. John passes me a memo, and I say thanks, and tell him that coffee would be nice, maybe some doughnuts too. I smile at him briefly, but enough of a smile for him to ignore that I am not his boss, and to guarantee my mid-morning sustenance. My eyes return to the screen, to see what I am doing now.
Her tongue is like an electric eel, teasing my sex, and my anus. She lowers herself towards my mouth, and my lips, and my tongue. I begin to replicate what she is doing to me. And then there is another message on screen. I translate and speak my instructions into the microphone, to the other me. It is unusual to get many messages when we are in private; the men’s hands are generally too preoccupied to be typing on the keyboard. I tell the other girl to move her head, and use her fingers to open me wide, and display all my wanting, and my wet pinkness, to the camera; more beautiful than any flower, and more disgusting than an endoscopic image. And then he wants her to use the dildo on me. Not the elegant glass phallus, but the big jet-black cock, and he is shouting in big capitals, fuck her up the ass, fuck her up the ass. Your wish is our command is one of our many mottos, so I issue the new instructions.
And then he logs off. Maybe he has shot his load, and become concerned about the damage to his credit card; maybe a car has pulled up outside – a parent, or a wife; or a work colleague walking in, or a job ending message from the IT department. He will be back. John returns with the coffee and a bag of doughnuts. We sit talking about some film that he has seen. He can’t remember what it was called, but it had that actor in it, what’s-his-name. Conversations with John are always riveting.
Then it is on to free-view. This is harder. I have to act as both the moderator, and the words of the Eastern European girls who will do this kind of thing for much less money than the good-looking English speaking girls. So much less so, that they can afford to pay me to do this. So I am me, and I am Natasha, and I am Mod34. It sounds kind of hard, but it is like Tetris, you soon get the hang of it. You don’t have to reply to everything, and you don’t have to get the girls to do much, just get them to show enough for someone to click the Go Private button. It doesn’t take long, normally, but there are times when you have guys or boys, who are going to be able to get their rocks off, just talking dirty to a girl, or watching the promise of what might be. This time we have also got a smart-ass joker online. And this is how it’s going on screen:
Guest12> you are beautiful
Guest45> show ass babay
Guest25> take off yr top pls
BenDover6> i want to ram my cock in you
Guest34> How old are you baby?
Guest45> ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass
Guest 49> what do you like best out of sultanas or Santana?
Guest12> you are so beautiful
Natasha> 18
Guest29> i wanna see yr tits
Guest25> just a quick flash and then go private
Guest49> what do you like best out of Santa or Satan?
BenDover6> you think you could take all of me sweetheart?
Guest34> You look younger
Guest16> quero chupar muito
Guest49> I’d take you in my mouth Ben
Guest25> open your legs and show me the honey if you want money
Natasha> just turned 18
Natasha> only in PRIVATE
BenDover6> you fucking faggot cunt
Guest45> ASS ASS ASS ASS ASS ASS ASS ASS ASS ASS ASS
Mod34> WARNING - Play nice!!
Guest33> show me yr pussy
Guest49> kiss and make up Ben
Guest34> What will you do in private?
BenDover6> i’m going to fucking kill you cunt
Guest52> w w w . h o t t e e n c r e a m p i e . c o m no spaces no credit card details
I select Guest52, Guest49, and BenDover for removal from chat, but not before:
Guest49> I just want to kiss your little winky. But how you going to find me?
I try and get this show back on the road. I issue myself instructions to give a flash of tit.
Natasha> anything goes in private
Guest45> ass ASS ass ASS ass ASS ass ASS ass ASS ass ASS
Guest34> Are you shaven like a little girl?
Someone other than this group of freeloading losers goes private. I take away my face and my body from the frustrated men, and deprive them of the 20 ‘A’s and 40 ‘S’s that Guest45 has just fruitlessly typed. I masturbate to the camera, and for MormonBates2, and take another bite of doughnut. I wonder how disappointed he must have been to discover that there was already a MormonBates1 signed up.
It is time for my break, and John is lingering around. This is because he would like to be with me, but is too shy to say so. I find it kind of charming that he is so uncomfortable around me, when we do the work that we do. He has got pictures of his family up on the wall; family who thinks that he is some kind of Internet genius. The Internet part is right, I guess. I tell John I need some fresh air. Normally I would not mind spending time with him, he’s sweet enough, but I need to be alone, and prepare for the next session.
I stand outside smoking, and look up at my office; two sheets of paper are stuck to the window showing 34. I think, not for the first time, that maybe 34 more days of this is too many days, then I think of the money, and I think that maybe I will stay on. When John asks what the countdown is for, I just tell him that I like figures, and watch him struggle not to say that he likes my figure too. The countdown unnerves him, but not enough for him to act rashly. Not yet.
I go back inside to be a girl of fourteen, with white piss-soaked panties that I will remove for faithful husbands and curious eyes, from all around the world. Globalisation and sex, supply and demand, I think, as I take another bite of doughnut.
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In Cold Blood's comments
A refreshingly unique talent…
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12 Mar 2008
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