Letter from Mulgrave Precinct

Dear Shoeblossom--

This taped conversation between me and the corrupt Selectman I have the peculiar fortune to be wed to may titillate your readers, or make them puke. Who knows? Love, Trillian"

Oh, Fritz, don't cry any more. I forgive you, honey."

"I-I just--when you use that horrible--what was that thing?"

"That's a sjambok. Or sometimes it's called a litupa. Police in South Africa use it for riot control."

"I-I can barely move."

"Oh, c'mon. I saw you beating your meat right afterwards. That's why I had to hit you again. I just get so annoyed when you leave the seat up."

"Trilli, I--Ooow!"

"I'm sorry. Remember, it's Miss Trillian. When you're wearing the collar."

"C-could you put the whip thing down Tri--Miss Trillian?"

" I really don' t like you directing my behavior. I think we agreed that you were the one who needed, you know, controlling."

"Miss Trillian, can I get dressed now?"

"I don't know. It seems when you are dressed, you tend to posture and strut around, Mister Egomania. I like it when you're wearing just your thigh-highs and those heels."

"I-it's arousing, but remember we have that fundraiser at five-thirty."

"You (giggle) you don't want to have Mulgrave Precinct's Second Selectman show up in fishnet stockings and heels and nothing else? You might increase your base."

"What?"

"Sure, the queers hate you, what with all your nasty comments about gay marriage, and closing the bathhouse over on Englemere and Third Avenue."

"Miss Trillian, that's the leading cause of gonorrhea and AIDS in Mulgrave, don't you think?"

"Possibly. Of course having you in the alley in your Lone Ranger Mask and bright red lip gloss, sucking off frustrated servicemen who came for a bath and found it locked--could that be seen as a whaddya call it, motive?"

"I don't know. I really have to dress, though. And I should take off the collar so I can call you Trillie again. You're such a beautiful wife. I think about you constantly when we're not together--"

"Don't turn a girl's head."

"I-I think about you constantly, you have that beautiful red hair, and those big eyes, and I miss you so, and of course you plague me at work when you webcam me and are masturbating...."

"That's always fun."

"And then I'm ruined for the rest of the day, because you are such a goddess."

"God you politicians just have the sweetest talk. Oh, look, your pee-pee is getting all hard in my soft little hands. Oh, I'm sorry about the big red mark there."

"Y-you did that because I--I peed on the floor, a little."

"See, what we need to do is get you locked in a chastity like Suellen Conyers's husband. He doesn't leave the seat up because he can't pee standing, right?"

"Please don't do that."

"Oh, stop crying. Look at those big tears rolling down your face. And I remind you what a submissive little faggot you are in those fishnet stockings and your dick just gets harder and harder."

"Oh--"

"Getting on your knees in those public restrooms, in the frilly Shirley Temple dress and serving all those drivers at the truck stop. I know you want that, so badly."

"I--oh, my cock is so hard."

"I should give it a few more with the sjambok just to calm you down."

"N-no please, Mommy..."

"That's fun, when a fifty-three year old man calls his twenty-five year old wife "Mommy" it's so attractive. I can't imagine why I fuck young men from the Democrat party..."

"Oh, don't remind me."

"Or how much you enjoy licking my juices off their cocks. That sexy environmentalist who hates you so much for taking the polluter's money, he feels much better about you since you sucked his dick, big boy."

"Oh, don't talk about it, please."

"And really, I know there's a conflict of interest, right, with you locking up the Mulgrave Baths, and then fellating the men who have nowhere to go.."

"Mistress, of course I would stop giving blowjobs if you would let me."

"No, no you wouldn't. You know you love dick. You live for dick. I'm going to get you to lose weight so you can suck your own, if we have time this summer before the campaign starts."

"Oh please, Trilli--OOOW!"

"You must stop calling me that. Am I going to have to cancel the fundraiser and tie you over the carpenter's horse in the basement and really lay into you?"

"Oh, please Miss Trillian--"

"I mean, the sjambok is relatively short, not even three feet, but maybe we need to have a visit with Miss Blacksnake. She always helps you remember your priorities."

"I--oooh, please, I--"

"You are getting very inarticulate for a hard-nosed pol of twenty years. I guess we'll take off the collar now so you can get dressed and do your posturing."

"It's just about the re-election. You know, I do prefer being in my stockings and serving you. I saw that the big strap-on you ordered just came in."

"Yes, and I may put you in plastic pants tonight just to remind you that you can't pee all over the floor, young man."

"P-plastic pants? Tonight?"

"Yes, under your power suit. I mean, Mister Tough On Crime is really, at heart, just an overgrown fifty-three year old toddler."

"I can't go through that."

"Of course you can. I remember at the last fundraiser thing, the Purity ball, I got so sick of you bragging that I took you in the cloakroom and paddled you, but I was so worried when you pulled your pants up that you might get excited and cum in them."

"Oh, I was in too much pain, Miss Trillian."

"Yes, perhaps, but if you'd been wearing some nice pink plastic pants, I could have been sure."

"I'm a grown man. I've had to pull myself up by--"

"What a lot of garbage. You went to Choate and Middlebury, and then you inherited the biggest and smelliest factory in Mulgrave Precinct."

"But I work hard!"

"You work hard pounding your pud. I remember when I was your secretary, I had to whip your palms with this vicious little ruler to keep you from pawing yourself when you were watching me twitch around in my miniskirt."

"Those were the days."

"And you had that blowzy bimbo you were married to then, and all you really wanted was to be a beaten and humiliated little sissy, a wimp to be whipped."

"That--it was confusing for me. And I am a former Navy pilot, so I'm macho--"

"What a lot of crap. I met your former ensign, and he said when he was working under you, he made you blow him every morning at eight a.m. to keep you focused and your priorities straight."

"Th-that was after my storied flying career."

"You LIE. This is why I have to put you in the plastic pants with a vibrating egg up your ass tonight. You have coke-bottle glasses and are too tall to fit in an F-15 anyway."

"Oh um..."

"A lying politician. And a tranny slut. Just the loveliest combination."