The Story of Harmless Bullet

/absurdist comedy/

Day 7
 A Never-Ending Race

My soul soared like a heartless falcon over a wild rabbit, circling nearer and lower to the ground, to the food of its dreams. I opened my eyes — a monstrous horn grew bigger in all possible dimensions, sticking to the legs of Ms. Amblycorypha Oblongifolia eighty-one times, clockwise. After that strength-consuming procedure, she asked me to repeat the same process. I did as I was told because I prefer to maintain the circuits of sensual sufferings until the other half is fully satisfied (just as great kings would do). It seemed the process had achieved the desired effect — patience and perseverance helped me to fly high again. The last triumphant strokes returned my mind to reality.

Ms. Amblycorypha Oblongifolia dragged my exhausted body to the red Jaguar. She started to drive, searching for the path out of the forest. I sat near her, still wild-eyed, surrounded by the thoughts of horror: what if she stopped and asked for more?

Ms. Amblycorypha Oblongifolia

The trip to my apartment passed without any incidents. I opened the door, inviting my lady to a calm paradise. A dark curtain seemed to rise before me, and after a second I could see the mysterious biceps of Arcadio, working in a transfixed, quite primitive direction, threatening to kill my peace with his grim passion.
My old bed hung on four strong posts with black silk ropes, giving an impression of a small boat. The feeling of emotional terror and hopeless despair occupied my being. I clutched the hand of Ms. Amblycorypha Oblongifolia, who was shaking from the pleasant view of Martha’s barely-covered breasts, the amorous fragrance of love-making, the resourceful positioning of pillows and little bells, that clinked each time when the bed was in action.
“You are quite a craftsman,” Ms. Amblycorypha Oblongifolia noticed.
“Ah, just plugging the Lotus upside down,” casually answered Arcadio.
“For God’s sake, Martha! What’s going on here? And where are my things?” I felt lost.
By things, I meant the bag full of cash, but from the shock I couldn’t continue, either shout, frown or leave. I have to admit, from the moment I saw Hardstone in my room, I knew I’d never see my money again.
“I invested it, Bullet. In the Phoenix project,” replied my ex.

Martha, ex-wife

“Ah, I met a Dragon once; he’d tease the Lotus of Phoenix for hours,” Ms. Amblycorypha Oblongifolia sighed.
“I’m prepared to climb that mountain of pleasure,” answered Arcadio, showing the shortest way to his bed-boat.
“Stop, stop! STOP! I bloody knew it would be like this.” I wept, but Ms. Amblycorypha Oblongifolia was already on the top of the bed. For the sake of maintaining my royal dignity, I tried to follow her: jumped on it but failed. When I looked up, I heard the voices, which after a minute or two dissolved in the rumbling sound of the serious sexual games.
I sat at the table near the window when my gaze flicked to the doorway. There, in the shadows, possessed by primitive animal emotions, stood Armadillo Jack, waiting patiently for his boss.
“Don’t tell the others, especially my future servants. Ever.” I whispered to him.

The monotonous frequencies died out. Without any shame, the peculiar smile of Arcadio appeared behind me and said while dressing up: “Don’t let them guess that you are after their money or position. Behave casually, but make sure your sexual techniques catch their eyes. That will arouse the sense of interest.”

Arcadio Hardstone

I was too tired to think, so I turned and, without giving it a thought, punched him in the chest. He didn’t notice.
“I didn’t know your name was Bullet.” The man laughed.
“Mister Bullet Harmless. And proud of it! The future king of Gunung Kinabalu.”
At that moment Ms. Amblycorypha Oblongifolia coughed, touching my shoulder, “Honey, I invited Arcadio to our Kingdom. He’s going to live in the gold house, specially built for those who are so gifted in the art of the bedchamber.”
“The unnamed 88 positions are the answer,” Arcadio giggled and winked at me.
“I never been outside Rsa,” sighed Martha. I could hear the jealousy in her voice.
“I’d take you too if you make a donation to the Hamilton family,” the princess of Gunung Kinabalu promised.
I lowered my head and said nothing. I dreamed about my future with Sobekneferu. She was flawless; the crown-like part of her upper body guaranteed success and power. We were ready to depart when she pointed to the armadillo: “What about this cute animal?”

Armadillo Jack

“My princess must not worry. Jack will stay here, under the supervision of Martha’s mother,” I proudly glanced at my stoned ex-wife and curious Mr. Hardstone with the eye of the Master. It was weird, but Arcadio’s presence had a strange narcotic effect on Martha — she still stood in the middle of the room, half-dressed, in a bewildered wonder, with an anxious smile on her face. Ms. Amblycorypha Oblongifolia grabbed my hand, and we left the room.

I couldn’t remember my time on the plane: perhaps, we were too tired or asleep. I thought I’d wake up refreshed on the morning of the arrival, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, I was chained to an ancient hollow oak tree, which reminded the room built like a fortress – a home for all kinds of fungi, bugs, and insects. I was undressed, and my shapeless body was full of nasty red bruises. I was glad though, that my boxers were still on. On the left side, I noticed the fleshy leg of my ex-wife. There was no sign of Arcadio around us.
Ms. Amblycorypha Oblongifolia stood in front of me, with three unknown men covered in bronze: powerful muscles rolled under a skin that gleamed like polished silver. They looked violent in contrast with my Sobekneferu.
“Where’s King Hamilton? What’s going on, darling?” I blinked.
Her face hardened, and she replied: “I am Hamilton. Let me explain your duties in my Kingdom, Mister Harmless.”

Mister Harmless


Next post – ALL WORDS ARE MASKS

 

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14 Responses

  1. B says:

    I bloody knew it would be like this. Just kiddin’. You’re totally unpredictible.

  2. Sorryless says:

    Yikes! Mr. Harmless has his work cut out for him. I HATE waking up this way. Well, not this way exactly, but you know what I mean.

    88 positions, like the keys of a piano. Sultry like that.

    Another scandalous jaunt, RNB.

    • Victoria Ray NB says:

      I hate waking up this way (😅 I know what you mean)… but I did a couple of times (or more?!) – & 88 keys were NOT involved.

      Thank you 👋☀️ next on his plate – the “covid-inspired” situation…

  3. Is Armadillo Jack involved in any of those 88 positions?

    • Victoria Ray NB says:

      LOL 😂 nope! but maybe 🤔 “armadillo Jack” is the name of the position… hm.

  4. I got focused on the possibility of 88 positions. I think one would have to make notes. Well done, VR.

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