Dear Mr. Richardson,
Being a
trustworthy confidante of mine, I would like to relate for you the following
account of a most peculiar nature. Though you will find revealed herein matters
of intimate details concerning my private life, I allow you to publish this
letter in your blog anyway. And as I am a well-bred daughter of a suburban
dentist father, I pray that you judge me not too harshly on my actions.
It all
began one evening behind closed doors of my boudoir. While I was preparing for
bed and performing my evening ablutions, all of a sudden I heard a voice
addressing me from the nightstand; I was much amazed to discover my Dildo
speaking as if he had a mouth. He spoke to me in the following way, which I
here reproduce in his exact words.
“I was
born,” said the Dildo “in a plastics factory in Bridgeport, Connecticut, where
I was molded according to the proper Priapic shape and dimensions. Fortune
bestowed on me the honor---unlike that of many of my other plastic Cazzi---of a fully Silicone
constitution. After my birth, one of the industrious human laborers who were
buzzing about the factory floor tossed me into a prodigious pile of what must
have been thousands of other new-molded Phalli heaped atop each other”
Here I must
interrupt the Dildo’s story in order to insert a point---that I came into
possession of Signor Dildo, as he is more properly called, only few weeks
before he miraculously opened his mouth to me.
“‘Twas no
surprise,” continued Dildo, “the workers being a mostly male crowd, that some
of the more waggish ones would employ us, from time to time, for a bit of
immature drollery; they staged mock sword battles using us; they pummeled one
another over the heads with us, and such like profane antics. Sdegno! my blood was
roused by such behavior brutale.
How dare they treat us, who are so many incarnations of Priapus, in this
manner? Striving the best we could to ignore their simpleminded diversions, we
awaited our real commissions.”
“Since time
immemorial, we Dildos have been fulfilling our duties coniugales with the Donnas who allure us to their
bed chambers; hence our manner of referring to them as our ‘sposas.’ But
whether those historical notions were originally innate in me or whether I was
informed of them by one of my fellows non
fa caso. But, I assure you, the nobility of our lineage is grounded upon vero merito, just ask any honest Lady. ”
“My
commission did not take long to arrive; for, as the world’s shrewdest
economists have known, the world has never suffered for a shortage of Dildo
demand. Laying in that pile, I saw as a number of us would be snatched away a poco a poco---the workers placing us into plain
cardboard boxes, then handing us off to another set of factory workers, then to
the postal workers, agent of that mail delivery system which ultimately
dispersed us throughout our homes. With childish glee I did contemplate this
busy scene in front of me, from the vantage of the first link on my Circulation
chain, trying to conceive the young Signora who awaited me at the other
end. How I yearned to make her cry out---Bravissimo, Bravissimo!---upon my sake
every evening.”
But here I
end the Dildo’s narrative, for he went on to use language rather too coarse to
be reproduced here---thus, the rest of it you shall hear in my words. But first
I would like to address a more general question regarding Dildo ownership; that
is, whether a Lady ever should share her Dildo with another Lady? Indeed there
happens to be a misconception among the public---our understanding on this
matter being based upon the analogy with real human marriages---that Dildos
ought to be as exclusive with their Ladies as the Ladies with their Husbands.
But are there any real reasons why a Dildo cannot have two wives, or perhaps
even an occasional mistress? I certainly don’t think so. Provided that certain
modern prophylactic measures are taken, are there any real reasons why a Dildo
cannot be shared among two or three, or even four Ladies?
However, I
refused to share the Signor with any one; I wanted him all to myself.
Do not be
surprised, therefore, if I say that I was not the Signor’s first Mistress. The
Signor was acquired by me from a certain friend of mine, Miss Jenkyns, she
being his first true lover. Shortly after she came into possession of the
Signor, the news of her adoption became public knowledge, given wings by Miss
Jenkyns’ fulsome praises for the Signor’s virtues. How she raved about the
Dildo’s potency! How he raised her animal spirits, she claimed! She spoke of
him in most affectionate terms! Over brunch one weekend she decided to display
him for us. Mark my friends’ reactions---
“Wow, what
a beautiful Dildo”---said Miss Carrington---“A spectacular Dildo”---said Miss
Haverford---“A marvelous reproduction, worthy of the Old Masters”---said
Miss Hutchenson---"Oh the suppleness of his shaft, and those charming
globules"----said Miss Muscrat---“I agree; splendid proportions, splendid,
and what clarity and boldness of line, yet not too sculptural”---said Miss
Farquhar---“So much finer than my Roger’s, much SHAPELIER,”---said Mrs.
Haverford---“I wish the two of you many years of happiness”---said Miss
Shanka.
Thus
spreading among her circle of friends, the information about the Dildo’s vigor
soon spread across the entire city of Kingston, then to Saugerties, and soon
enough across the entire Ulster County, New York. Stirring all the Ulster
ladies into a frenzy of envy and desire, the Signor aroused an inordinate
amount of craving---and no one was more affected than I.
Having
raised such a fire in me, I need to quench it, especially being so near the
famed Signor himself. I was even willing to resort to mischief to gain my ends.
The short
end of it, few weekends later over brunch I did steal the Signor from her (for
she got into the habit of carrying him in her purse everywhere she went). I
simply pluck't him from her purse while she was turned away. ‘Twas the first
time I had ever been guilty of such a flagrant folly. I know I abused my
friend’s trust; yet all I can say on that count is that the pleasure I received
from his company more than compensated me for my loss in the moral department.
So now you
have the story of my crime in all its unvarnished truth. I leave it to
you, Mr. Richardson, to imagine the strain of Miss Jenkyns' tormentings over
her loss. I encourage you to compose a verse epic in heroic couplets upon this
subject, to be entitled “The Pinch of the Cock.” My imagination is not nearly
as fancy as yours, Mr. Richardson, as you are no doubt among the company of the
greatest English writers.
For my
part, perhaps I shall compensate Miss Jenkyns by treating her to brunch one
weekend, or to a pair of fine shoes. Forsooth, no one loves shoes more than
does Miss Jenkyns! I can well testify on behalf of all women who have these two
things, that in the course of our lives shoes are the next thing in degree
of importance to a Dildo. Or, if that fails to satisfy her, perhaps I will
exhort a handsome male friend of mine into courting Miss Jenkyns until she
forgets the loss of her Dildo and can move on with her life.
Yet no
matter what happens, I am not surrendering the Signor, now that I have
him. And no matter what, I continue to remain, Mr.Richardson, your most
loyal admirer
