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  You are @ HomeAdults A day in my life

A day in my life

Source: Adults

Author: Neil Marsden

Title: THE TAMING OF THE MOLE

Into the bowels of Hull city centre

Far, far from the world outside.

I raced towards my toilet sanctuary,

Down steps that were forever wet.

Glancing nervously around for demons,

As the statutory dripping taps clapped me home.

The stench of ripened piss made me gag,

The fear of being outside sickened me more.

Below my holed, black school shoes,

Teetered as they siphoned up the rancid filth.

Above the drone of fifty thousand oblivious footsteps,

Pressed forward on much fresher, drier feet.

To my left the sweetly stinking urinals,

Drowning gum and discarded tab ends to stem the flow.

And newly introduced curls of pubic hair entwined and danced,

In the cool breeze blowing down from the street.

To my right a brace of tired out, black chipped mirrors

That would never again smile back,

To the rear all the reasons for being a guest

In this windowless, soul-less hole.

In this place where ammonia and pure lemon citrus,

Fought for dominance of the air,

I would wait whilst the school bell rang out in the distance,

If only I could survive that long.

To my fore my cubicle of salvation, eagerly drew me on,

Come inside little boy, let us both for a while play hide.

This would be my daytime home for the foreseeable future,

And I was dry and anonymous, so should not complain.

Mustn’t slip, or lose grip,

As I desperately closed the green graffiti door,

With my back pressing hard against the invisible forces,

I reluctantly gulped at the shit laden air.

From out of my pocket, I took out my penknife,

To make a point of the pointless lock.

Then perched like an invisible bird upon the toilet rim,

That in good times wore the cold black seat, now just the millionth hairy arse.

I sensed you from the first time, that freezing September day,

You had trapped me then forever whilst you decided on your play.

At first the gentle tapping, as prelude to your real intent,

You held me in suspension, petrified and cold.

For days you preyed simply on silence,

Could you not believe your luck?

And as I cowered in blind panic,

You held me there in suspense.

Then as the boldness took over,

Your words fell like molten rain.

As you tried to engage me in kindness,

In an effort to discover my name.

So many ways that you tried to entice me,

Matched by so many ways I defied.

Even the money you pushed under the barrier,

Failed to form contract between you and I.

But then there in the background, the taps grew impatient,

As your lust overcame your fear.

And this lost little soul would be yours for the finding,

Surely only a matter of time.

Only when your scraping broke through to my dungeon,

And your eyeball invaded my world,

Would I realise that you were the meaning of terror,

And that I was completely snared.

“Touch me, just touch me and I promise that I will go,”

“Just kiss on all that I send you through this party wall.”

As your frantic digging made the peephole a cavern,

Before my astonished, tear-filled eyes.

“Look at this little treasure, you will not believe it’s real!”

As your shiny dark phallus pushed home.

And so I grabbed it and kicked it, just me versus penis,

I would not, could not, must not let you draw it back.

Then removing my knife from the door barring entry,

I deliberately sank it in.

Imagining your face and your insatiable hunger,

I instantly wiped away your disgusting grin.

You were now the one left screaming,

As the balance of power quickly changed.

And your pathetic pleading and begging for mercy

Fell upon my innocent deaf ears.

I dreamed then that I had killed you, you tower of evil,

Still more than willing to pay the price.

You came and possessed and imposed upon me your pleasure,

But you would never hunt there again.

Neil Marsden



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