Postmark: Dr Fell's Cabin!
Most of you won't remember this, but about a year ago
sydmcginley issued a challenge to write seven flash fics based on the venerable (and largely apocryphal) Hanky Code. The prize was to be a quilt, made of bandannas in various Hanky Code colors, pieced and stitched by Tommy, Dr. Fell's live-in temporary sub. I was helpless to resist this challenge. I even "invented" a new hanky made from surgical gauze, to signal a medical fetish.
To my everlasting shock and delight, I won! Tommy got to work, and a year later (almost), he's finished. As you can see below, Tommy is a talented textile artist. You can read more about him at Dr. Fell's website. Tommy is a generous little thing, and enclosed marvelous sundries from the cabin, including a Dr. Fell mug (which makes my coffee taste better), pencils (which improve my handwriting), a mouse-pad (which does wonders for my google-fu), a tank top (which makes saggy bits perkier), and a switch made from the sage that grows by Dr. Fell's porch steps (which makes me all shivery). Check out the storefront!
GIllie thinks the quilt is his. Gillie is delusional.
For those who are interested, the flash fics I wrote concerned a professional dancer who uses hankies in his act and meets his match in a mysterious out-of-towner. Enjoy!
1. CALICO
I twirled the colorful hanky around my head and swiveled my hips in that way that usually had my audiences on their knees, or at least tenting their pants. This guy looked unimpressed.
Like an idiot, when I opened my mouth it was to speak, not suck. “Dispatcher said you’re new in town,” I said, waving the calico hanky by way of explanation. Even the hanky looked embarrassed.
The guy raised an eyebrow. “And you’re the welcoming committee?” he asked skeptically.
With a sinking feeling that this was not going to be the easy job I was accustomed to, I found the beat again and reached for the next hanky.
2. CORAL
“Have you ever given a tongue bath?”
My eyes skipped over my hankies in search of the tongue bath color, which I honestly didn’t think existed.
“Boy.” There was no way he wouldn’t get my attention with that voice.
“Sir?”
“Boy,” he repeated. “I want you to start at my feet.”
3. ROBIN’S EGG BLUE
I had tied the third hanky around my cock in a Windsor knot, the tails hanging to the left. (Nobody ever said the hanky-dancer can’t make a suggestion or two of his own.) Still, I was unprepared to be bent backward until my hair brushed the floor, held up by strong hands. I braced my hands by my head as Doc swung a leg over me and crouched, the crotch of his pants against my chin.
“Get me out, boy.”
I did my best, using my teeth, relying on the strength of his arms because mine were already starting to shake and weaken.
The minute he sprang free - commando, thank all the gods! - I opened for him, my neck muscles screaming. He swallowed me whole and I came in seconds.
4. GREY
Gagged with my own grey hanky. That was unexpected.
I watched as Doc used a bamboo-handled machete to slice my clothes to ribbons.
It was a good thing I was gagged when he julienned my leather jock or I might have lost it. That thing had cost me a week’s grocery money.
By the time he was finished winding the remnants of my jock around my balls and cock, tying them off with a jaunty bow at the tip of my prick, I was drooling through the gag.
5. SURGICAL PAD
“Where does it hurt, boy?”
He’s not going to make this easy on me, the bastard. I cast a rueful glance at the hanky-sized square of gauze by my feet.
“Throat, Sir.” I don’t even have to try; my voice is a convincing croak.
“Open.” He sprays something cold, and the back of my throat goes numb.
A clear acrylic cylinder thick as two cocks approaches my open mouth.
“Now your gag reflex is suppressed, let’s have a look.”
He slides his reflector over his eye and squints through the tube as it knocks past my teeth, over my tongue and, impossibly, into my throat.
6. DARK RED
“Silver Surfer!” I cried, safe-wording for the first time in years.
“What is it, boy?” There were those eyes, right on mine.
“I can’t take two fists, Sir.”
Then there was his fine, elegant hand cupping my face, thumbing away my tears.
“For me, you will take two fists,” he said very low. “But not both at once.”
7. MAROON
“Sir,” I began, “I’ve never….”
“Of course you haven’t. Be still.”
I wasn’t bound, except by his eyes and my desire to be perfect for him.
He held up the glittering scalpel and closed the distance between us. My chest burned with breaths I forgot to take.
When he was about a foot away, he raised the scalpel and made a small cut in his upper lip.
Mesmerized, I didn’t even flinch when that scalpel flashed again, cutting my bottom lip. Before the blood welled free, he was kissing me, lips and tongue slick with the metal tang. Did it hurt? Exquisitely.
© 2007 Lee Benoit
Endless thank yous, Tommy, Dr. Fell, and Syd!!!
sydmcginley issued a challenge to write seven flash fics based on the venerable (and largely apocryphal) Hanky Code. The prize was to be a quilt, made of bandannas in various Hanky Code colors, pieced and stitched by Tommy, Dr. Fell's live-in temporary sub. I was helpless to resist this challenge. I even "invented" a new hanky made from surgical gauze, to signal a medical fetish.
To my everlasting shock and delight, I won! Tommy got to work, and a year later (almost), he's finished. As you can see below, Tommy is a talented textile artist. You can read more about him at Dr. Fell's website. Tommy is a generous little thing, and enclosed marvelous sundries from the cabin, including a Dr. Fell mug (which makes my coffee taste better), pencils (which improve my handwriting), a mouse-pad (which does wonders for my google-fu), a tank top (which makes saggy bits perkier), and a switch made from the sage that grows by Dr. Fell's porch steps (which makes me all shivery). Check out the storefront!
GIllie thinks the quilt is his. Gillie is delusional.
For those who are interested, the flash fics I wrote concerned a professional dancer who uses hankies in his act and meets his match in a mysterious out-of-towner. Enjoy!
1. CALICO
I twirled the colorful hanky around my head and swiveled my hips in that way that usually had my audiences on their knees, or at least tenting their pants. This guy looked unimpressed.
Like an idiot, when I opened my mouth it was to speak, not suck. “Dispatcher said you’re new in town,” I said, waving the calico hanky by way of explanation. Even the hanky looked embarrassed.
The guy raised an eyebrow. “And you’re the welcoming committee?” he asked skeptically.
With a sinking feeling that this was not going to be the easy job I was accustomed to, I found the beat again and reached for the next hanky.
2. CORAL
“Have you ever given a tongue bath?”
My eyes skipped over my hankies in search of the tongue bath color, which I honestly didn’t think existed.
“Boy.” There was no way he wouldn’t get my attention with that voice.
“Sir?”
“Boy,” he repeated. “I want you to start at my feet.”
3. ROBIN’S EGG BLUE
I had tied the third hanky around my cock in a Windsor knot, the tails hanging to the left. (Nobody ever said the hanky-dancer can’t make a suggestion or two of his own.) Still, I was unprepared to be bent backward until my hair brushed the floor, held up by strong hands. I braced my hands by my head as Doc swung a leg over me and crouched, the crotch of his pants against my chin.
“Get me out, boy.”
I did my best, using my teeth, relying on the strength of his arms because mine were already starting to shake and weaken.
The minute he sprang free - commando, thank all the gods! - I opened for him, my neck muscles screaming. He swallowed me whole and I came in seconds.
4. GREY
Gagged with my own grey hanky. That was unexpected.
I watched as Doc used a bamboo-handled machete to slice my clothes to ribbons.
It was a good thing I was gagged when he julienned my leather jock or I might have lost it. That thing had cost me a week’s grocery money.
By the time he was finished winding the remnants of my jock around my balls and cock, tying them off with a jaunty bow at the tip of my prick, I was drooling through the gag.
5. SURGICAL PAD
“Where does it hurt, boy?”
He’s not going to make this easy on me, the bastard. I cast a rueful glance at the hanky-sized square of gauze by my feet.
“Throat, Sir.” I don’t even have to try; my voice is a convincing croak.
“Open.” He sprays something cold, and the back of my throat goes numb.
A clear acrylic cylinder thick as two cocks approaches my open mouth.
“Now your gag reflex is suppressed, let’s have a look.”
He slides his reflector over his eye and squints through the tube as it knocks past my teeth, over my tongue and, impossibly, into my throat.
6. DARK RED
“Silver Surfer!” I cried, safe-wording for the first time in years.
“What is it, boy?” There were those eyes, right on mine.
“I can’t take two fists, Sir.”
Then there was his fine, elegant hand cupping my face, thumbing away my tears.
“For me, you will take two fists,” he said very low. “But not both at once.”
7. MAROON
“Sir,” I began, “I’ve never….”
“Of course you haven’t. Be still.”
I wasn’t bound, except by his eyes and my desire to be perfect for him.
He held up the glittering scalpel and closed the distance between us. My chest burned with breaths I forgot to take.
When he was about a foot away, he raised the scalpel and made a small cut in his upper lip.
Mesmerized, I didn’t even flinch when that scalpel flashed again, cutting my bottom lip. Before the blood welled free, he was kissing me, lips and tongue slick with the metal tang. Did it hurt? Exquisitely.
© 2007 Lee Benoit
Endless thank yous, Tommy, Dr. Fell, and Syd!!!