Ohh..things are gonna change:
-First of all, this novel should be called "Hela" rather than "Happy Hour", since the latter is a reference to pill time at the hospital. And I have realized that Hela will be in the hopsital for only a short portion of the book. From now on, it is going to focus more on her journey after she breaks out.
-This whole thing will be rewritten in first person. It seems more honest and real that way. It moves quicker, since in 3rd person I have a tendency to detach myself from the characters and overdescribe the scene. I don't know if this 1st person will be directed toward the audience, or if it's Hela talking to an imaginary friend named Vainy Len.
-Alicia's name will be changed to Crystelle. Crystelle and Hela sounds better than Alicia and Hela.
-There will be many more sex scenes.
-Once I named the master Gustav, I truly knew him. He is an awe-inspiring, yet comical German dude who is also a total creep, but you're not supposed to know that yet.
-His friend who they hide with is not John. I don't like that guy. In the re-write, they will hide with Gustav's cousin Rudiger (Rudi for short).
-There are many more changes in my head and my journal, but you'll just have to read them as they come. =)
Okay, now all I have to do is write it. *sigh* ¶ 6:25 PM 1 comments
I couldn’t fucking believe it. He actually did it. My master came to claim me. He actually got me out of that goddamn loony trap. No more dirty walls and bland food and nasty pills.
We ran our asses off. It was hard to do in slippers. We ran through those mazey hospital halls with the guards’ footsteps right behind us, then out the door to this beater car he had stolen and parked out front.
In the getaway car I rolled down the window all the way, stuck my face out and breathed the yummy summer air. At that point, I felt what a bullet does when it pops from the barrel of a gun. A rush of cold and motion. It was all so bright, it was almost cartooney. I watched the roads and houses and trees swish past the window in colorful streaks.
“I should have locked you two in the trunk.” Master said as the wailing of sirens got nearer, like a gigantic squalling infant was stomping our way, crushing parked cars with each barefoot step.
“I can just hear it now.” My master squeezed his nasals shut to do his best Chicago cop impression, “Ehh..he’s a Cahcazhin male, abaht 6 foot 2, turdy yeahs old, wit a twenny yeah old Cahcazhin femayle, a twenny tree yeah old black femayle, boat of um 5 feet tall and wearin’ hahspiddle gahns…”
Alicia and me laughed at that. Alicia asked Master, “Hey man, uh, what’s your name?”
“It’s Gustav. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Get ready girls, we’re gonna ditch this car about…here!” He cut the wheel sharply to the right, stopped the car and leapt from the driver’s seat. I jumped out the car, too, stumbling after Master across a green lawn. They must’ve just watered it, ‘cuz my slippers got soggy.
“Great. I leave them crazies for these crazies!” I heard Alicia say as she shut the car door and ran to catch up with us. She yelped when twigs in the lawn sliced through her slippers and cut her bare feet.
After hopping from backyard to backyard, over picket and wire fences, past scary guard dogs and old ladies in curlers, Master finally quit running. His long legs stopped beneath him like newly dead snakes.
“This is the house. My buddy John lives here. He should be out in a second.” Master pointed up to a white house with peeling paint. A stack of old tires sat next to the rickety porch.
“John? Oh god!” I said. “Alicia, watch out for this dude!” I cringed and curled my lip.
“Whatchu mean?” Alicia grinned. “I be starvin’ for dick!”
“Uh, not this one.”
The screen door of the house swung open. A lumpy figure in a yellowed wife beater now crowded the doorway.
“John, my man, hear those sirens?” Master began, the excitement boiling blue in his gaze. “They’re for us.” He gestured toward me and Alicia. We were still panting from running. The squalling infant noise got louder.
John narrowed his already pinched slits of eyes and leered. “Mmm who’s this here?” He nodded his chin at Alicia.
“That is Alicia. A friend of my dear slave, Hela.” He placed his big, soft hand on my back. I knew I was sparkling under his touch.
“Kay, come on in.” John said in his slight southern accent. He lifted the knob on the screen door. We climbed the porch stairs. A musky stink of dog hair and cigarette smoke slapped me on the nose as we entered the house.
John’s basement was actually pretty cozy, despite the piles of rancid laundry and dog hair all over the couches. Oddly enough, I hadn’t seen or heard the dog yet. Alicia and John were watching the news to see if there was a report about us.
“The first thing we do is get rid of that hair.” Master pointed to my head.
“Can’t we fuck first?” I begged.
Master smiled, making creases shoot from the corners of his eyes. “Hel, that faded red shag you’ve got growing is much too obvious.” He grabbed my arm and led me into the bathroom. On the sink was an electric razor and what I assumed were John’s whiskers dotting the faucet.
Master slapped my ass. “Now bend over. Over the bath tub.” I did as he asked.
Soon, I heard the bumblebee sound of the razor, felt a lightness overwhelm my scalp and watched clumps of matted hair collect in the bathtub below me in cherry-colored bird nests.
Master petted my newly bald head. The tiny hairs on my lower back stood tall. From the warm shock of his fingers, and maybe to compensate for the lack of fuzz on my scalp.
John and Alicia’s eyes ticked back and forth from us to the TV news, then back to us.
I was on my hands and knees, Master pressing my lower back down with one hand and holding his belt in the other. His fat cock glided in and out of my ass with the wetness of poo and spit, from when I had sucked on him just a few minutes before. I felt his hot thighs slap against my ass cheeks with each thrust. My butthole stung as it stretched around his swollen dick.
“I promise, I promise, I’ll never get caught again.” I breathed between screams.
“Mmm… that’s a good little slave.” Master moaned from deep in his chest. His voice was like whisky and chocolate syrup. He moved his hand from my back, reached around my side and began to rub my clit as he fucked my ass. The wetness gushed out of me, all over Master’s fingers and dripped down onto the icky brown carpet.
The tightness in my butt, paired with the pulsing tickle in my clit was too much for me to stand any longer. I felt a hot swelling inside me. Master cracked me on the ass with the belt a few times and the sting was electric.
“Uhaaaahhh!” I squeaked and the childishness of my voice sent me twitching into a massive cum. My clit was exploding. It felt like it was trying to jump off my crotch.
As my body loosened, Master started to fuck me harder and faster. The force of him tossed me around like a doll. My big, soft ass smacked his stomach. He let out a low and animal grunt. A rush of warmth erupted inside my butt, like the sweetest diarrhea. Master slowed down and sighed.
I pooped out his cock. My asshole was deliciously sore. I rose to my rugburned knees, turned around and looked at my master. His mounds of muscles were laced in sun-light hairs. His eyelids were hanging low over his dilated pupils. His chest heaved gently.
“I missed you, Hela.” He said and half-smiled. Then laughed and pointed to the couch.
Alicia was naked and straddling John, who was sitting. Her short, brown legs barely reaching around his pasty, bulging sides. With a grinding of her hips, she bounced up and down on his cock. She noticed me and Master looking.
Carol stumbled from her bedroom, wringing a pair of dirty slippers in her wrinkled hands. “Socks! Socks! I need some!” Carol yelled, then stopped and let her bottom jaw fall, exposing the toothless gumminess of her mouth when she saw the man with the gun in the dayroom.
“Alright loonies, I’m in charge here, now.” Hela’s master held up the tiger striped gun. In his thick arms, the massive barrel seemed almost toy-like. “I want you all to fuck shit up. Fight, throw things, crap on the floor. You’re psychopaths, aren’t you?”
Hela’s master was greeted only with the unison blinking of glazed over eyes. He pointed his gun to the ceiling.
“Move!” he ordered and fired a shot. Flakes of ceiling tile rained down around him.
Markus stood and with his meanest thug face sauntered calmly to the television table, wrapped both arms around the small, black box then lifted it, dropped it, sending it splintering into shards of plastic and glass against the hard floor tiles.
Elena’s eyes lit up like fireworks. Her black hair bounced behind her as she ran to the bookshelf, next to Carol’s bedroom. Elena grabbed handfuls of paperbacks, last month’s tabloids, scribbled-in copies of donated classics and tossed them over her shoulders.
“Yipeee! This is fun! I like the man with the gun!” she cheered and heaved a dictionary behind her with both hands. It bounced off Carol’s nappy, gray head with a smack.
“Hey, you watch it you Chinaman!” Carol barked and threw her dirty slippers at Elena, who chucked more books at Carol in response.
At the counter, Nurse Jean fumbled with the keys on the phone.
“Hands up, hag!” Hela’s master pointed the desert eagle at Jean. She raised her plump arms. Her lips began to tremble. Behind her, an office door opened. Two heads peeked out, blonde ones. It was Dr. Littleboy and psychologist Kelly.
“Hey, how ‘bout you two stay in there.” Master said with a leer. The office door shut. Master surveyed the dayroom. Elena was still throwing books. Markus picked up the VCR and held it above his head. Fergus kicked over a garbage can. Used tissues and papers spilled out of it like a cornucopia.
Master noticed Alicia watching the whole scene, too. Cackling and slapping her thigh. “Oh and you, baldy. " he said to her. "Go stand by the door.”
Alicia stopped laughing and widened her eyes, the colorless one gleaming white like a hard-boiled egg. She said nothing and ran down the hall, through the eating area, to the door where she stood by Hela.
Master stepped behind the nurses counter, said to the now weeping Jean, “Sorry doll, would love to stay and raid your pill box.” He pressed the buzzer, then started for the door, where two girls, one soft and pale, the other dark and buff bounced up and down in a victory dance at the sight of his baseball cap and gun.
