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Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6 Rasputin, Laurie and Peter Lorre.
Date: Thu, 10 Aug 2000 12:10:10 -0400
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From TxM6 Taxi Murders Sextet Hyperfiction Novel
http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon (updated August 8, 2000)
TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only.
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher
1058XLaurieterror
"The Multiple Masks of Van Gogh, Peter Lorre and Rasputin"
Paper by Laurie Fallon, December 8, 1991
Comparative Literature W3432y. Dr. Elkin.
Tue and Th. 2:20 - 4:45
Dodge Hall Rm. 501. Columbia University.
"I was terrified when I wrote about Rasputin," Laurie told
Professor Elkin, looking him in the eye, putting her hand on
his wrist while she talked. "When Rasputin murdered Peter
Lorre and that guy murdered Myrna Loy, I felt him stagger like
I do when I come. Passion is connected."
I loved it when Raskolnikov turned away at the end, and
didn't murder that pawn broker. How did he revise it, having
read it before he wrote it I wondered how he would finish."
That wasn't all Laurie did. Laurie loved time travel fantasy
and changing historical events and literary history. That is
the reason she enrolled at Columbia College to study creative
non-fiction.
As Laurie sketched the murder scene, speaking very low, from
deep in her throat, she held the Professor's wrist, letting
her nails dig into the soft under part caressing the pale
blue
gray veins she had always wanted to suck like some future
tense gothic Vampire when he wrote fast on the black board.
Watching Elkin's eyes, Laurie mapped pleasure that sought
pain at the other end, as he wished to suffer, Laurie touched
ache, and was rigid, almost orgasmic, anticipating being
touched and
knowing she could not be really touched in his faculty office
doubling as a class room. What if one of the faculty walked
in suddenly. Elkin, only an Assistant Professor, shared the
office.
Laurie knew Elkin was trapped and she kept up the pressure
bringing him to his knees, and she imagined lifting her black
skirt, wearing no underpants, shaved partially, her lips
bare,
and forcing his head there she would make him a woman too.
Blinking her eyes, Laurie looked around, breathing deeper,
they were still alone, any one could walk into the room,
Laurie quickly kissed him opening his mouth, forcing her
tongue inside.
Never letting go of the wrist, holding his thin pale wrist
tighter, Laurie ground her nails higher into his forearm, not
breaking the skin, at first, allowing her nails to trace the
names of famous poets into the top of his wrist.
Laurie did it so he would know she could cut him, and if that
is what he likes, he could ask for it and she would not stop.
She did it, and didn't stop for five minutes pulling his head
down, whispering in his ear, watching his sweat, she said, is
your cock cut, can I suck it after class. Shall we go to the
West End for drinks, or will your boyfriend be there.
Elkin didn't pull his hand away, and he said either yes or
no. He looked at Laurie, half smiling. Laurie cut his arm
deeper, not playing at all, she broke the skin. Silent, at
last, she pulled his hand up to her face, spreading his
fingers with her tongue, she forced his hand down to her
tits, making it touch her left nipple, playing with him,
carefully taking his other hand she lowered it so the back of
his hand brushed against her pubis.
As Laurie rubbed her tits with his knuckles, deftly opening
her two buttons on her red blouse, her nipples stood up, her
mouth now tightly shut, looking almost demonic, Elkin
breathed harder.
Laurie loudly told the professor (hoping someone would enter
the room) that she had hoped he would make a pass at her, and
thought he was cute, and knew he preferred men but that she
loved men who fucked men.
Elkin didn't blink. Laurie dropped his hands, showed him her
tongue, picked up her paper on Rasputin, clearly marked A,
graded before he knew what she had offered, and Laurie went
home alone, pissed.
THAT WAS TWO WEEKS EARLIER
Arriving in class too early, Laurie wanted to talk to talk
about her paper. She wanted to tell him that his compliments
a weeks ago, when she was last in the twice weekly class, had
turned her on. She wanted him to know that night she made
love to Henry and imagined fucking this slight nervous man.
Elkin understands my love for playing movie characters like
Myrna Loy or Rasputin, he knows my imagination can create
anyone, Laurie was so high saying this, that Henry did not
laugh.
Two weeks later, Laurie had come to class early knowing Elkin
would be there getting ready for the lecture. There were five
graduate students and three upper level undergraduates.
Laurie was the only sophomore. "I manipulated my advisor,"
she told Angela.
Angela laughed. "You mean you blew him."
"No, I let her eat me on the floor of her office."
Laurie kept seduction locked in her memory.
OUTSIDE ELKIN'S DODGE HALL OFFICE
Laurie hated waiting. Why was he late, she thought, standing
outside his locked office. Finally he arrived, smiled said
nothing, opened the office door, held the door open for
Laurie and followed her inside.
Elkin had told his students many times that this was a good
time to talk about things. If Laurie had her way, he would
take her home, to a motel, or to his car. She would fuck him
and make him feel what she had felt when his eyes looked at
her mind and saw not ordinary lust but lust filled with the
capacity for rage and punishment. "He told me, Henry, that it
was not just my power with words, but how I understood
murder.
"He is just like you, Henry, but he really likes the pain,
and you pretend that you do."
That night, Laurie told Henry she wanted to ravage her
professor as she called him. "I want you there to watch and
then I am going to fuck you raw while he watches and wishes
he could fuck your ass."
"Just like you and Aaron," Laurie said, I want him to feel
your pleasure inside my cunt and Aaron's inside my ass.
Henry told her it was fine with him "as long as he doesn't
want to kiss me or fuck my ass. He can suck me off if you
watch and help," Henry liked to pretend he would fuck around
with men. Laurie knew he was full of shit and laughed at his
pretense challenging him to let some guy fuck his ass so he
would know what it is really like. "I love it," Laurie said,
but like all good things, "one has to be ready for them. Are
you Henry?"
In class now, standing before him, two weeks later, Laurie
said. "What did you think of my last paper on Manson?"
Yes, it was Elkin said, and shuffling papers, finding it
easily he handed it to Laurie. I gave you an A for content
and a B for sloppy proof reading. Get an A on the exam next
week, and you will get an A for the course."
Laurie looked at the A and didn't see the B slashed
underneath.
Elkin spoke. "It was better than the last, but Laurie, I need
you to come to class. You have missed too many. I have to
take attendance. Rules and all. I don't want to lower your
grade because you choose not to come to class. You are almost
in danger of failing because of attendance," he said holding
the official Columbia College attendance record out to her,
but when she didn't take it, he dropped it on his desk.
Laurie picked up the attendance record and carefully counted
her absences.
I count six times. Aren't I allowed five, she said.
Laurie then smiled and tore the paper into many pieces, While
she did, she said, "have you ever had your cock sucked so
fine you think you were talking to God.
The professor laughed. Laurie made her point, sat down and
smiled, removed her sweater to show her tits, and then the
next student arrived in class, and Elkin who always counted
the absences didn't that day.
While he talked about murder in literature, Laurie imagined
herself on the floor sucking his cock in front of the class,
and as she was sitting in the first row, in a make shift
faculty office/class room, Laurie hidden by a bookshelf from
the other students, massaged her nipple gently while the
professor talked, openly taking it out at one point by
lifting the pullover shirt and finding the ridge of her
nipple, she feigned an ouch taking her nipple in her finger
tips and squeezing it very hard so he knew she felt pain and
was fine with it.
Laurie described the moment in another way.
I am six feet tall. He was five six. I was over dressed or
undressed for a college class. My tits were showed to the top
of my nipples. It was winter. It was hot in the room. I wore
a slight blouse with a covering white wool sweater. When I
took off my top, my shirt pulled up, and not wearing a bra,
he could see my breasts. I know he saw me. I did it before
the rest of the kids came to the class and I pulled up the
blouse later while he was talking about some obscure Russian
who wrote about The Gulag.
Sitting there in white too small pull over blouse, my nipples
strained. I loved it."
By her manner and dress Laurie was more the typical adult
student then the undergraduate. Yet, she teased the guys and
was friendly with the girls. Everyone accepted her.
"The conversations about murder and rape in literature after
Elkin's class get really dark," she told Henry.
"Do they make you wet," Henry smiled.
Ignoring his comment Laurie went on. "I really like him. He
makes me feel as if he knows death and not just as
literature. Perhaps he has murdered young boys or girls. I
will make him confess, Laurie laughed.
"Henry, he came right out and said it. Looked me in the eye,
and told me that he couldn't get hard with a woman." I
laughed at him and told him that I don't care if he is hard.
"I can make him come soft."
Then Laurie stopped, looked away from Henry and said. I never
got an A on a paper before, and he told me that I had earned
it, and that I didn't get it for flirting."
"Can I read it," Henry asked?
"I never got an A before for a paper. Never. And Columbia at
that.
You know I asked him again before I finally left, adding,
"are you sure about the A"?
He said, "Yes, Miss Fallon," he said very formally, "it is
that good."
"See," Henry said. "Some men are not so easily seduced."
Henry paused taking a bottle of seltzer out of the
refrigerator, "Why don't you ask Elkin over to the Gables
some Wednesday night when all the freaks take their clothes
off."
"Sure, Laurie said, obviously pleased with the idea. "You
know I asked him if he ever had his cock sucked so fine ....
"
Henry finishing the line said, "but God may have a cunt and
not a dick."
"No! Almost," Laurie hit Henry on the ass, hard.
Sitting down on Henry's lap, filling all of it with her six
foot frame, Laurie continued her story, playing with Henry's
mouth.
"After class, I waited, but he told me had to read at a
poetry reading downtown. I almost asked him if I could go. He
told me that he was meeting his buddy there. I stopped. He
said, "well maybe next time I can read you some of my own
work."
"You write poetry," he said surprised.
Describing her conquest to Henry, Laurie moved her ass on
Henry's lap like she had a dick or dildo inside her cunt.
Floating on him, crushing him, Laurie moved one leg between
his leg, and she continued her story about Elkin while she
rubbed his cock that she had taken out of his pants as if it
were hers.
Henry listened watching Laurie's hands and then lips filled
with his cock, letting it rest on the edge of her mouth,
incredibly wet with salvia. Fucking her mouth Henry pushed
her down on her knees on the floor of taxi, crushing her 6
foot legs, her back bent and her mouth stuffed. That was two
years ago and the first time we had done it on the taxi
stand.
Laurie never lost one drop when he came. Wiping her lips with
the back of her hand when he was done, Laurie insisted on
pushing her tongue deep into Henry's mouth.
"You said that," Henry asked breaking his fantasy.
"Yes, and then like he didn't remember my line about sucking
cock, he said, "what do you want to show me."
I picked his hand up and sucked on his thumb. He seemed
shocked but didn't pull away.
I left him putting his papers away but he was smiling. He is
not as gay as he pretends.
"So invite him to the Gables, and you can show him what he
missed," Henry suggested.
"Think he would strip and get drunk," Laurie got up from
Henry, needing some space, she said, and collapsed in a
facing chair.
"Come here," Laurie demanded.
Henry moved on command, anxious to please.
Playing with Henry's hands, catching and trapping them when
he tried to massage her tits. Laurie loved to tease, and
Henry returned with getting up and sitting again in the
facing chair.
"Come back," Laurie Commanded.
"No, you come to me," Henry opened his arms. He loved to
tease her as she teased him.
"Can I read the paper on Rasputin," Henry asked again?
"No," she said. "You fuck me all the time. He deserves one
shot."
Laughing, Henry said simply, "I have to meet this man who
resisted you. If he is almost straight, he is a saint. You
really would have fucked him for an A. Wait a second, what
does fucking you all the time have to do with grades or
flirting or writing great poems. You have done that."
"No," Laurie answered. "I would have sucked him off for a B
and offered my ass for an A. He is cute, you know. Very
polite too. A bit too reserved for me. But all in all, I
think I could make him want to try a girl out. Might alter
him. I know this is all silly. Why do I play these silly
scenes out."
"You don't need my permission to fuck him."
I know, Laurie thought. That's the problem. I want it. I want
you to not let me be promiscuous. I want to be just held. I
want you to possess me. I never stopped being that romantic
teenager who wanted you to seduce me when I was fourteen."
Laurie started to say all of it, but held it back so it
became what she called "the voice inside my throat," she
said, telling Angela privately about it later when the group
gathered at the Gables.
It was Wednesday night and Laurie had heard Henry would
strip. He had been told by Lillie that there would be no more
bullshit.
"You strip or get the fuck out. That's the rules, Lillie had
ordered. All patrons must strip at least once a year. I keep
the calendar.
Everyone knew she meant it. She also had three big off duty
cops who she paid well to beat the peace into her place, as
she put it.
Laurie only had brief fun that night. Henry was in a mood.
She was in a very melodramatic mood and they did not match.
"Why Henry, do you make me cry so fucken much. Why? Why do I
care? Everybody wants me. I want no one."
"I want you, but I can't really have you, can I?"
At that moment, just as she was about to light up a cigarette
after not smoking for a year, Laurie stopped, put it away,
and got up from the bar.
Sometimes, I wish I could walk away, Laurie thought. Where
would I go? Oh I fear too much, don't I she said to no one.
The walls shimmered, Laurie thought. What odd colors. How can
I not know grief when all around me is some death, murder and
more odd circumstances than I can every count up even using
both my hands and feet twice. Yes, I know that is a small
number in the scales of the universe. Who are we after to
test it. Why not?
"Henry, wake up. I want to fuck you. Stop sleeping. You are
not dead. Stop pretending. You are fucken scaring me. Why?"
"Go back to fucken sleep," Henry whispered, his voice sleep
filled and hoarse.
"I really thought you were dead Henry. I did. I can't believe
you would fuck with me that way.
THE TERROR OF NOT BEING GOOD ENOUGH
Month After Laurie Fallon's Abduction.
May 10, 1992
In those moments resting on terror, Laurie withdrew into her
multiple masks as if they were one portrait. Her personas,
sometimes swallowed substance, obscuring her outer sight.
Any one portrait, Henry told Aaron in Laurie's presence would
be as if Van Gogh painted only one of his rages or
epiphanies.
"Read her last poem," Henry suggested, invoking more than
memory. Read how she lived and maybe you can take one more
step closer to her characters. Don't believe any of the
soothsayers here who presumed to know her, Henry looked up at
the rim of the steering wheel of his car, and pushing down on
the gas, he stepped away from her memory as if he were racing
from a changed traffic life.
Henry, Laurie had told the father of her unborn child two
weeks before the kidnapping, I love extending my life into
the philosophy of pleasure humping madness. "I want the end
and beginning in one solemn vow, as if my promises, inside
the word "yes" extended themselves not only as an infinite
series, but in the leap and track of snakes who bore human
masks," Laurie added, always not quite finished, "there is a
darker mode."
"Yes can also merge with those aches you feel in the pit of
pits, after orgasm, when breath is rapid, pupils dilated,
abated respiration, almost empty, and then the last pulse
declines. "Is death that ache with coming?"
"Pleasure could be that inversion of birth," she continued,
"an emptiness without limit; yes, forgetting logic,
consequences, responsibility, and of course, any other
bullshit college courses in the Philosophy of Core Requisites
and their bedrock insanity, Humanities A or B. Do I mean
inanity, that's right?"
"What do you think, Henry," Laurie asked playing with Henry's
eyes as if he were inside her mind watching every word.
Laurie didn't like it when he did it. She did it back to show
him she could get away with anything.
"I know," Laurie said, that I am like a small child."
In this mood, she rarely let Henry speak, let alone answer.
Be quiet, she said, covering Henry's mouth with her spreading
fingers hooking one into his lips.
Shifting again, her head turned back and her long hair
whipped his face leaving only a trace of her perfume as
hello, when will I see you later.
This time, at least, Henry asked one question before Laurie
finished rolling his ascending soft murmurs in supportive
cadence with hers. Never giving up, Laurie crossed her arms,
turning her back, the room swallowed itself and in that not
so simple pause, Laurie made her point.
Finally ending with a giggle silence was an uneven
aftershock. Very much the way one coin dropping on the floor
sounds when there is no sound, Laurie's breath, more rapid
now, made Henry wish he was not leaving.
He would not see her again for ten months. Leaving for Boston
in the morning, Henry chose to visit his daughter. Seems like
an ordinary thing for a man to do. Your daughter has a child,
and you go there.
Except this child was Henry's child. He found out on the same
day that Michelle was his daughter, and the child born two
months ago was his daughter in incest.
When Henry returned, Laurie was missing. Kidnapped, the
newspapers said. How odd her absence made the airport. How
horrible their last disagreements seemed now in a vacuum.
Yes, there, at the end, Laurie jumped from the bed to the
floor to the window, "look out there just past downward
slope," she said but one phrase stuck Henry, "I'm dead,
remember, forget it.
Behave! Spoken softly, playfully, and as a tentative command,
her uneasy humor blew up the dust and din on the side of the
road. Not even Henry knew the play of her last riddles.
Apart from him, Laurie lived the last months of her life as
more than a prisoner, and yet, she became in the end,
molecules strung together by mysterious puzzles.
"I have no boundary, no profundity," Laurie told Angela the
morning before her abduction. "No one can chart the play of
my last riddles. I have no boundary?"
"Captured," she told Abel, when she felt the part of speech
breaking down, laughing at herself, acting almost hysterical,
"murder me. Get it done. Please!"
Laurie as a captive of the beast, turned the beast.
Eventually, he would look the other way when Laurie murdered
his half sister and accomplice in kidnap and murder, Lilith.
Abel his conscience restored could not stand his sister.
Christ Tina had made that miracle. She had visited Abel and
turned his heart into an ocean and not stone. Laurie found a
way to survive and fucked Able pretending to be his long lost
sister, killed Lilith simply, covering her head with a
plastic bag, her hands tied, she watched her eyes while she
died. Abel was sucking my cunt while his sister expired. She
thought he was out of town. We planned the whole thing,
Laurie told Henry. When it was done I was so turned on I
fucked Able for two days. Fed him bennies to keep him up, and
ludes to get him down."
"You survived," Henry said, two months after her rescue. Not
really shocked by Laurie's story. Thinking about Laurie in
this way, Henry realized it was all a fantasy, and Laurie was
not safe. I wish she were here fucking that faggot professor,
Henry imagined. We never got to know his true desires. I miss
her, Henry thought.
Continuing the fantasy, Henry hears Laurie. "I made myself do
what I thought you would have done had you been the victim.
"I am not certain I can save her," Christ Tina playing God
sucks Henry's ear so Henry imagines and comes knowing
Laurie's voice again.
"Who the fuck are you," Henry, drunk speaking to the
strangers walked the sidewalks outside the Gables after a
long drunk.
No one listens to drunks so no one really paid any attention
to Henry.
Sad isn't it, those strangers could have been present when
this man Henry talked to a female God. Henry was talking to
the Great Spirit Manitou after all.
More American Adventures in erotica and other works by Sean Farragher:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sean_Farragher/
Sean Farragher
Poetry Site: http://www.farragher.com
TxM6 Sites:
http://www.taximurders.com
http://www.taximurders.com/enfer
http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon
http://www.taximurders.com/paradisio (forthcoming)
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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