Letter from Thistledown Tuft

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Dear Shoeblossom,

Here’s a quote for you–

“You know the rules, Elmore. For every five minutes you get to rub oil on the inside of my thighs, I give you ten minutes of ass-whipping.”

I am almost sure I’ve been in love with my baby sister Camomile for my entire life, although it didn’t get carnal until I came home from the service and began attending Central Thistledown State Teacher’s College.

I mean, she’s always found ways to take advantage of me, but one day she arrived on my doorstep.

My folks had tossed her out ’cause she refused at twenty-two to find a job, and also she burned down our house when she and her boyfriend fell asleep smoking crystal.

Then, she lit candles in the mobile home they’d replaced the family manor with, and somehow, that burned down too.

And then my Pop was shot in the leg when an enraged wife came looking for Camomile.

At twenty-eight, a seasoned veteran, who generally got more butt than a toilet seat, not lonely at all, and with plenty of common sense, I invited my troubled sis to move in with me up at Thistledown.

Camomile is a lot of trouble, really high maintenance.

And she gets what she wants.

Just the other day, I was naked in the front yard, and Camomile had me tied by the nuts to our chain link fence.

A bunch of my pals came by to see if I wanted to get drunk and go bowling, and then they realized how ridiculous this was, me being you know, butt-naked, cuffed to the fence.

By my balls

“You really should throw your sister out, Elmore.”

“You’re just pissed ’cause she won’t go out with you, Ogden.”

But it’s true, she’s a lot of trouble, and I never listen to advice.

And really, Piston, Hobart, Ogden and Poodle had so little to say.

Poodle and Piston are also siblings, the kids of New Age parents, and they tried to dismiss my problem as Inner Child issues…

But I never listen, damn it.

Camomile came out in the yard and smiled at my buddies. How adorable she looked in her overalls, pink ones, the kind with short pants.

And she was wearing nothing BUT the overalls, of course.

As Piston, Og and Hobie’s eyes popped out, I was disgusted.

But Camomile is always terribly pleased with herself.

Poodle is a little pudgy, so she is somewhat jealous of Camomile. But Camomile has an evil right hook, so Poo made no editorial comment.

“Hey guys. I am trying to make Elmore here be an electrical conduit.”

Camomile was carrying an ultraviolet shock wand, which she’d purchased online.

I think it was battery operated, though in the house she used an extension cord. (Very much a conservationist, Camomile.)

Camomile had this theory that if she could shock my gonads through the fence, my pubic hair would fall off.

I had been resistive to trying this exotic plan, and Camomile had been forced to strip me and use the “Enthusiaser” on me.

Camomile was a crafty bitch.

The “Enthusiaser”, compiled of six-foot strands of barbed wire, was wrapped at the end with duct tape.

Ten of the Enthusiaser’s regenerative swats on my bare behind convinced me of the efficacy of arguing with my sweet little sister.

You understand.

Camomile had also brought the Enthusiaser the weekend before when she and her boyfriend had taken me camping in the Thistledown Maltepe Escort Mountains.

She had been trying to teach me to suck dick just as a marketable skill.

An ex-Marine, I was vehemently against this, but it’s amazing how her little invention could create “enthusiasm” for almost anything.

Her boyfriend, also a jarhead, had enjoyed my oral efforts, but then got mad when Camomile had used the Enthusiaiser to whip us again when we brought insufficient kindling.

And again when she wanted us to service some pleasant and very gay Park Rangers.

One would wonder why I would allow my crazy sibling to crash at my place when I was getting this nice G.I. Bill funded education.

When she melted all my Bronze Stars in an unsuccessful attempt to make herself hoop earrings, I really did almost throw her out…

And more than once I thought about re-upping for Afghanistan. But Camomile is sweet and easy to interact with when she’s in the right mood, if one is willing to put up with a little unpredictability.

But my buds were really concerned about the Ultraviolet Love Wand, or at least deeply curious.

“That thing is sparking at the ends, Camomile.” Piston said, gazing at it intently. “It really might kill your brother.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” Poodle, who’d been dumped by me a month before asked acidly.

Ignoring Poodle, Camomile winked at Piston.

“Not at all, no danger I don’t think, Piston.” Camomile said casually.

“The Ultraviolet Love Wand is reinforced by silicone insulated wire. It’s a little brisk, burns a bit, but my dad uses it to drive cattle back home, and it’s not killed any of the cows yet, right?”

Ogden, who was always too curious for his own good, asked why I had a piss-bag strapped to my leg and a “weird lil plastic thang” going into my cock.

“I have put my brother in a catheter if you must know, Oggie.” Camomile hates nosy folk.

Do I drink too much liquid? Camomile naps a lot and she insists that my pee hitting the side of the commode bowl wakes her up in the afternoons.

I don’t drink hooch, I’m born again, but I do spend a lot of time sucking down that Arizona Iced Tea.

“That bag is supposed to be used for only medical–” Such a purist, Ogden.

Ogden knew that Camomile was working as a Candy Striper for community service at Thistledown General, and was suspected of hoisting a few Oxys, and a couple of prescription pads…

But REAL medical equipment?

Camomile had also stolen an Everett-Jennings wheelchair, which she’d cuffed me to one evening, wheeling me to where the queers suck and fuck anonymously in those big trucks down by the Admiral Binnacle C. Thistledown Housing Projects, and need I say more?

But Oggie kept pestering her about hospital embezzlement. Perhaps he’d seen an “LA Law” episode or something.

“That bag shouldn’t be filled with Elmore’s wee-wee juice. He ain’t sick; he’s a damn decorated war hero. Elmore should be runnin’ for Senate or workin’ at Fox News, not peeing in a damn–“

Camomile stroked my catheter-covered cock with her fingertips and I got really stiff.

“What’s wrong, Oggie? Are you thirsty? I was going to pour the bag out on the ground when it gets full but–“Camomile smiled at Ogden as he fell silent “I can surely accommodate you.”

She stroked Anadolu Yakası Escort me a little faster and I got a little excited.

“This wand thing is so interesting.” Camomile rubbed my cock more and then zapped the tip just lightly and I jumped and shrieked, and Oggie winced.

“See, guys, when Elmore annoys me, I can attach a whip thing–it’s rubber and in the dishwasher right now–and it shocks him when I hit him with it.” Camomile said, pleased.

“It’s in the dishwasher?” Poodle asked curiously. “The whip extension?”

“Blood Type O Negative is hard to just wash off. ” Camomile said, trying to be informative, and Poodle nodded solemnly, and the men were very silent.

“But he jumps and bellows, our macho soldier does, much louder than he did just now, when I lash him with it.”

I was getting really, really embarrassed.

“Really, he howls loud?” Hobart asked, his tongue hanging out.

What the fuck’s wrong with Hobie? I will kick his ASS later.

“Yes, Hobie, REALLY.” Camomile said as she rubbed the tip of my dick so my catheter almost fell off.

“Elmore almost never forgets to make my bed or clean the cat box–though sometimes I make him eat it if he forgets–“

Real Chatty Cathy, Camomile was.

“But he doesn’t hog the remote or lose his temper, and I can just charge up that whip–“

“Maybe we should get one” Poodle said, smiling at her uncomfortable brother.

“No more Duck Dynasty, more Project Runway and…”

“Lifetime Channel!” Camomile and Poodle chanted together. (This all happened a while back. Now they’re into ‘The Bachelor’ and watch it while I hold up their legs like a naked footstool.)

“Then there’s another extension I attach to the Ultraviolet Love Wand” continued my sister, “I can glide it on Elmore’s wiener when he’s a good boy, and it just enthralls him, or if I turn the Comb up a notch, it calms his peen-er right down, makes that thing tiny.”

She is so private about our dreams of raising Arabian show horses one day, or my secret interest in giving up the teaching career to go to beauty school, but about everything else, Camomile is a damned blabbermouth.

“Really?” Poodle asked drolly.” Makes his penis smaller than it already is?” She was really, REALLY pissed about our breakup.

Camomile looked at Poodle and they both cracked up.

Why did my friends drop by today? I hate bowling, anyhow.

Camomile smiled confidentially as she toyed with my frustrated, pee blocked cock some more.

(She forgets to change the bag sometimes. Drink up, Ogden!)

“I would tell y’all about the mushroom probe thing that I shove up his winkie…”

“Entry in rear, huh?” Poodle asked with a yellow-snagged grin.

“Yes, it’s an electrifying anal experience, and perks him up like nothing else does.

I really might have tried to go inside then, but, Camomile of course had tied my hands securely to the fence, and I didn’t really want my sweet, innocent, pure sister to beat the mercy of my creepy cronies.

Perhaps I am too virtuous. But on the other hand, it’s an interesting electrical experiment, like Ben Franklin and the kite.

“Wait.” Hobart said, concerned. “The urine is a liquid, you know. If you’re a-goin’ to tetch Elmore up a bit, it might burn off his pud.”

Such a mansplainer, Hobie was.

“I Ümraniye Escort doubt that, but your theory kind of turns me on, Hobie.” Camomile said, giggling. “You and I should go out sometime.”

Camomile was kidding, of course. Hobart was king of the Beta Males.

Growing serious, Camomilei held up the sizzling wand and looked at it, as she absently continued to manipulate my (temporarily) enthralled member.

“We do have to be careful, though. I was doing the electric comb on my grandfather’s prick after Bible Study in September, and I almost blew out his pacemaker.”

“Y’all are a strange family” Ogden pronounced stoutly.

“You know, we didn’t grow up in a Negro infested foster home Og, like someone I know.” I said, wishing my hands were free. “See if I take you back home on Spring break to eat my Momma’s beef stroganoff or ride our Jet Ski again.”

“I’m sorry, Elmore.”Og said, shamefaced. “Your gramps was real nice to me the last time I was there. He let me ride his Harleys.”

“You should come to Bible Study, Ogden.” smiled Camomile.

“Maybe, but I’ll leave right after. And I want to keep my clothes on–“

“Just shut your pie-hole.” Camomile said briskly. She touched the sizzle stick to my penis and buzzed the Wand hard and I almost fell over.

I lost the erection that she’d been working on for ten minutes, too.

But then Camomile fell to her knees and kissed my penis two or three times and sucked the tip as Piston and the guys watched enviously and Poodle checked her messages.

“I hope I didn’t burn you too much, Big Bubba.” Camomile said attempting to mollify me.

“No, it’s okay, baby. ” I will not be a wimp in front of the clique.

“See, he’s no crybaby.” my sister said, proudly.

“Last month when my Mom visited, she and I were doing target practice, shooting at Elmore’s nuts with the BB pistol, it’s a family thing–“

“Oh TMI…” Poodle moaned.

“But anyhoo, Elmore took it real well while Daddy cried like a Betsy-Wetsy doll, he couldn’t take a little air gun. Momma told Dad if he couldn’t hush, she’d get him with the shotgun, a little rock salt between his thighs when they got home.”

“You know, maybe I’ll just get my own Jet Ski.” Ogden said thoughtfully. “Or mebbe go someplace quiet for Spring Break, like Red China or South Africa.”

But Og never did understand the importance of family, despite the quirks. Orphans are like that, you know.

The Betsy-Wetsy story broke the group up, laughter wise. I was so happy they were goddamned entertained.

“But about the Wand test…are you concerned about Ground Fault Circuit Interrupt?” Poodle was an electrical engineering student.

“No, I think its okay.” said my sister breezily. I was genuinely worried she might discuss the effects of ultraviolet wand caning next, but the rest of the afternoon went smoothly.

We never did find out whether the hair would fall off my balls. But the experience was kind of like Tom Sawyer’s whitewashing deal.

All the guys (except Ogden, who went home quietly) forgot about bowling.

They came over to our side of the fence, and stripped, and Camomile bound their junk to the fence and tried the Ultraviolet Love Wand out on all of them…

While Poodle shot at their bare behinds with the BB pistol.

At one point I was afraid the paramedics might have to come get Hobie, but he manned up in the end.

You know, Mom e-mailed me recently reminding me that if I didn’t eventually evict Camomile, she’d never pay rent or get a job, and she’d always be borrowing money, but you know, I don’t really mind.

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