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Another corridor 15
The naked chubster with the CRAB mask always makes up adventures to star in, little stories from the news, little events heard in passing, little events to make a lonely life seem interesting. Today's adventure is grim, as dark as the corridor, as forgotten as the blemish. The narrator in the tale is sitting in a chair in a corridor, waiting, waiting, and more waiting, gradually becoming aware of a ticking sound. Like a clock marking the time. But it is not a clock, it is a beautiful youngster walking steadily along the long corridor pulling a strange contraption. A sort of wagon, a table with straps on wheels. The youngster stops, holds out a hand. There is a step on the side of the table, padded rests for knees, padded rest for the head. The narrator steps onto the table, and is tied in place with a naked arse in the air, face facing the wall, arse for everyone to see. Then comes more tick tock tick tocking, many crisp shoes tapping out their approach. Then comes the sound of the unzipping, many zips unzipping, clasps unclasping and preparing for anal rape of the arse in the air. But the pain does not come, it is only a fantasy.
