Večerní páteční čtení divoké kapitoly dvacáté páté ,,A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou“

Čtení ve Studiu Midian pro Tebe.


Napsáno střihovou metodou , jakou používal William Burroughs a je to dobrodružství protože se dá použít všelijaký materiál, to co přijde samo a před více jak deseti lety jsem poprvé četl poprvé tuto kapitolu…kde se vzala ? Podobnost s čímkoli kýmkoli či jakkoli je pouze náhodná. Jakou zvukový podkres použit zvukový archiv BBC, volně dostupné pro neziskové projekty, přesněji :

Drums – March tempo on drum. (120 paces per minute

Nigerian Crowds – Nigeria, speech with tom-tom drums.


And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.

Chapter Twenty-Five.

What did they seize?

In the dusty annals of the Inquisition Court of the Archdiocese of London, we read: -What's going on? Any lines or what?
"Horror," Peters says with attendance.
How was she ? Gorgeous, in a word. Incredibly amazing, in two words.
Silence falls. Old wall clocks hesitate.
It's one hour, eight minutes.
The cone of light made a dark, vague outline out of the gloom. The shape of the house.
The bass voice had just said: -Oh, you are my love. -The words stretched as if it were honey. Sweet.
She licked her red lips and began to shake.
Bobby clenched her fist and pulled away in terror. He approached and used her idle mouth.

She blinked, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks, stretching like honey. Salty.
Inside, a motionless silhouette of a little girl boils.
He tenses and Bobby climbs after him, deep into his body, into his world, deep into his soul, without hesitation.
-Yes.- Bobby nods.
Now there are two girls. Sitting on a red sofa. The one with the blond ponytail is Bobby.
He goes out to tip the gentlemen and whispers: -Dream.-
The word stretched like honey. Sharp, like tufts of grass.
The other girl had a belt around her hips.

-With her.-

Bobby suddenly sits ragged on the other sweaty body and thoroughly fucks him with an artificial limb.
So that was it. Just a heartbeat, a heartbeat and moments of white light during orgasms. From the paintings hanging from the walls, the black faces of the saints flash and descend, climbing behind Bobby.
Bobby in stripper costumes. Bobby in high heels and stockings with seams and in pointed bras and lace panties, bulky belts with all the clumsy clothes of the fifties. Bobby strung in full fetishist outfit-boots, corsets and leather gloves and latex leotards and braided reeds. Bobby strapped to chairs, tied to tables, stretched on wooden frames, chained and gagged, dressed in leather helmets and overshoes. Bobby ties other women into sensual, provocative poses, plugging their mouths with tape and scarves and more unlikely things.
Time flies. Especially in moments of pleasure.

What did they seize? Your souls and fantasies.

Bobby put on a leather corset. She put on high, tight shoes. She allowed me to tie my hands in a leather glove just behind her back. Then it was useless to defend myself when I shoved a gag-shaped gag deep into her throat. At first glance, the thing on the table looked like a leather chastity belt.
Bobby, suffocating with a gag, groaned as a double rubber limb entered. He tensed it to burst, penetrating in, so that both parts of it began to rub against each other through the thin wall.
And even as she trembled with  breathless, sweaty, Bobby nodded seriously.
She felt the force flowing from the invisible prey. Pale faces were covered in blush.
My girlfriend Bobby then finished her job.

It was a dark August night. Big stars fluttered brightly above the houses.
In August, the stars are always big and bright.
Bobby sighed and wiped her mouth with a slight movement of her hand.
She rose from the divan and descended from the ground.

Down on the river, the axes began to work again.

End of chapter twenty-five.
Karta Crowleyho Tarotu je ,,Vůz."

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