TFW CH 24 SHOWER AND FLOSS

Train To Nowhere   by The Dead 60’s   

When the arm bones were picked clean,  Sven set his carver blade down next to the butcher and he burped.

Sherry sat back on her heels and looked up at him.  Her face dripped blood. 

She said, “Where are your manners?”

Sven smiled back at her.  He said, “You have something on your face.  Is that an artery?  You know, those are good for a bit of floss for the teeth…”

Sherry laughed.  She wiped her face with bloody fingers and found it.  She held it up, dangling there in the morning light coming through the fresh day outside the guest bathroom window and she examined it.

She said, “Little lost friend, how have I been missing you.”

She sucked it in like spaghetti. 

She burped.

Sven said, “Harlot.”

Sherry said, “Bastard.”

It was time to purge and cleanse.

A full belly is not the intent of a cannibal.  It is the eating that awaits.

Indeed, they each stuck their fingers in their throats and expelled the contents of their bloated bellies, onto the dead man.

A shower, some fresh clothing, and don’t forget the teeth.  A good cannibal must make himself presentable for the next course.

Off they went, tracking bloodied footprints down the hall to the master bedroom.

They left the Chauffeur behind in the guest bathroom because it was a wash room with a toilet and a simple shower stall.

Upon entrance into the master bedroom, there were two other doors.

Sven walked to the closest and flicked on the light.  There he saw walls of suits and track shoes and drawers that probably held many more various clothing accouterment and bangles inside them.  

There was also a space of clothing for the ladies.

Evidently, the young man whose body he now inhabited was accustomed to clothing the latest catch of the night, perhaps to afford the young lass the chance to perform the walk of shame away from the mansion grounds in proper manner.

This immense walk-in closet would suit them both quite well.

Past the large bed, the other door opened up to a bathroom of kingly proportions.

Side pockets for his and her thrones (each with proper bidet and also ventilation fans) were set into the far corners, on either side of the large room.

Large mirrors with sinks below them faced opposing walls, and in the middle of the room, there was the shower.

The cottage held no bathtub at all. 

The shower was glass-walled on three sides, with the door facing Sven.

He whistled long and low.

Here was money.  Sometimes,  rich folks enjoy a good shower.

He walked to it and peered inside, up.

There were sunflower-type shower heads set all about in the ceiling.

It would be like a summer shower with steamy hot water pouring down inside the whole thing.

Hell, there were even some Italian marble benches for sitting in order to cleanse the feet.

He walked back to the entrance of this room and saw a control panel on the wall.  He recognized that the light switches were all made of rubber push-buttons.  The plate was encased with clear vinyl. The whole bathroom must have been constructed to be waterproof.

He pressed them buttons, and all of  the lights came on.

Indeed, the chandeliers over each sink glowed on either wall, and then music began to ebb from hidden speakers.

The lights around each mirror lit up the place, and the floor began to warm.

There was another button with only one word embedded into its red rubber top, and it read, “ON.”

He pressed it.

The shower awoke.

Somebody really liked to have a good wash.

Treat Her Like A Lady    by Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rose     

They showered together. 

It was hard not to make a move on the bloody woman, but he knew that he should take care of himself first.  Here was a new body from him, and he found it to be quite athletic. 

It is proper for a gentleman to allow a lady to cleanse herself with relative privacy, but they were, you know, naked in the shower together.

+   +   +   +   +   +   +

Sven glared into the wide mirror before him.  He would never get used to looking back at a new face from the looking glass.  Mirrors hold the visage of the living face, but they also contain the memories of the ones from the past.

He began to forget his old face.  But here, he looked into the face of a young man, and his teeth were perfect.  


Except for the meat.

He opened a drawer and found teeth brushes and floss.

It was time to floss.

After he finished, Sherry stepped out of the shower and put a towel over her hair.  She loved her long hair.  It was new.

Sven savored the sight of her dripping, lithe body, her full breasts, and he could not contain himself.  The only member of his club stood erect and saluted like a proper warrior.

She still had meat in her teeth, but that only made her more attractive to him.

She nodded down at his exclamation point.  She said, “Are we going to have to apply pressure to reduce the swelling?”

Sven said, “It is in need of a hot, damp compress, and elevation.”

A large bed awaited them.

They would make use of it quite well.

 Indeed.

+   +   +       +   +   +

The mental floss of the new Walkin floated about the purple crowd of folks sitting at a séance circle, and he settled into one.  It was the one wearing a ceremonial crown atop his noggin.

The Chauffeur awoke with a jolt, like a white hot prod to the spine.  He swung his head left and right to get a view of those who surrounded him at the table, and he tried to jump up.

He was bound at the wrists by straps, and his hands were held by the two folks on either side of him, in their own.  He squeezed their hands with all of his might, and they howled.

He hissed.  He said, “Let me go! Bad things are happening here!  Can’t you see?”

The others around the table sat back with their eyes wide open, and the two on either side of him struggled to release their hands from his grasp.

They could not.

But, they were trapped…

…by him.

He heard a voice from inside his own head.

It then shouted out of his mouth.

It said, “I have him!  Here is here with us now.  Do not be afraid.  He is in my control.”

The other faces did not seem to be relieved.

The voice coming from his mouth said, “I welcome you here.  What is your name?”

The Chauffeur felt a release from being hidden, and it was out of his control.  He found himself responding. 

His own voice came out of the mouth of his new body.

He said, “I am Christ-Offer.  I am released from my body.  Danger is here.”

He did not know why he was telling such truth.

He was beholden by them Purple Robes.

It’s just that they had the wrong guy…

That one was busy fucking the maid.

But this one, well, he was now hungry as well.

And do you know, my friend, this would end well for No One.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

Lift Me Up   by Five Finger Death Punch  

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