Rinse & Repeat


  Today was always going to be a bad day. I was on scoop duty, which is just as vile as it sounds.

  I’m in the back room, gouging out another man’s excitement from an artificial asshole and looking dejectedly at the flyer above the sink.


  Underneath the text is a wonderful picture of Beat Takeshi looking surly in Victorian ruffles – Darcy no doubt. I hear the ring of the cash register out front and wait for Suzette to walk in behind me, looking for Haruka. Or – more specifically – ;
  “Is Haruka’s vaj ready yet?”
  “That’s why I got into this business Su, to hear sentences like that come out of a mouth like yours”
  She shoots me a look that says she’s not in the mood and I point obediently to the flesh-coloured cone on the sideboard. She takes a cloth and picks up the vagina, drying it quickly. Usually we heat the inserts in a bowl of hot water but as I just finished washing them they are already warm, wet and pliant.

Su moves over to Haruka’s coffin. For a few seconds there’s silence as I continue to wash and Su lovingly slides Haruka’s vagina back into place. She twists it gently to lock it in, retaining the reverence Dalton and I lost a long time ago, before demanding
  “Where’s her butthole?”
  “Ah, another gem,” I say, proffering the cavity in question.
  She slaps it in and then, like a modern day Prince Charming with a comatose beauty, scoops Haruka up in her arms.

  “Ups-a-daisy” she huffs. Every time she lifts one of the dolls it’s the same queer, mother-in-the-park expression. I’ve asked her on numerous occasions where she picked it up, only to be shrugged into silence. But where? Where did this gothic-lolita from Harajuku learn such a curious English phrase?

  It honestly keeps me up at night.

  “Su, can I ask you something?”
  She gives me an exasperated stare.
  “Is it about that damn saying?”
  “Something else,” I say, shaking my head.
  “Can it wait? These things are deceptively heavy.”
  Ignoring her, I continue;
  “I was just wondering why nobody got back to me about this,” I nod towards the poster. I hadn’t let on in the week since I put it up but I’d been pretty excited about it.

  Su glances at the flyer as if she’s never seen it before. I watch her face. The ruffles suddenly seem embarrassing.
  I purposefully put the flyer above the sink not only because it would definitely be seen by anyone on scoop duty but also because the class and elegance that are synonymous with the theatre would seem genuinely appealing to anyone, even Su or Dalton, when they’re up to their wrists in semen. I knew it was a long shot but I thought I was in with a chance when utilizing such a desperate dichotomy.

  “Seriously?” Su replies, sagging slightly.
  “It’ll be butchered horribly,” I try, “and there’ll be strobe lighting and badly choreographed musical numbers.”
  “No, just… no. Jesus, Dalt and I thought it was a joke,” and with that she leaves, heaving Haruka to her next appointment.

  I’m slightly hurt, but at least I don’t have to ask Dalton and embarrass myself further. I move on to cleaning Mitsuki and stare wistfully at the little bit of sophistication I tried to bring into our grimy lives.

Kiss of the Womb rides further into it’s dark depths. If you hadn’t noticed already, KotW is pumped out once a week here on the site. The header image is a RealDoll – they’re super detailed and creepy-realistic sex dolls that cost a hella lot of money (Check ‘em out over at www.realdoll.com), and the type of sex toy that the guys at The Womb own and, consequently, rent out.


~ by Joseph Blame on August 11, 2010.

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