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Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6  Runaway V  Mf
Date: Thu, 20 Jul 2000 05:10:03 -0400
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 From TxM6 Taxi Murders Sextet Hyperfiction Novel
http://www.taximurders.com/enfer

TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only.
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher


Runaway V
0950Xrunaway0266X.htm

Emma Cavanaugh DOB:  8/10/1974
November 29, 1987             
Wandering

Never been scared before even when I sat in the corner with 
Johnny playing with my pussy on the bed talking nice, I felt 
like his puppy dog. I guess I should be mad at that but he 
told me he'd take care of me, just get dressed, he said, held 
his robe out, exposed himself, I was so fucken wet and 
hurting, and wish he'd just let me do it to myself. He has 
nothing to prove. I couldn't keep my eyes off him. He was 
dressed in tan work pants and a tee shirt, his Billy hung out 
and he smelled of beer, offered one, don't like the stuff, 
really don't. He was calm, and said he wouldn't hurt. 
Wouldn't hold me against my will, I could leave any time. 
Home, no way, I said. I'll stay here. My step Mom screams, 
no, your Dad's never really here anymore, what's he out 
fucking you, she said. You're drunk I said, proud of myself. 
Your fathers down at the bar, drunk.

GOOD MOTHER held me tight. Dad doesn't want my life, too 
complicated. Every day we shift one foot towards the other, 
out of control. Behind the darkness, left, right, or inside 
out, carefully marked the edges of the room, I guilt wall 
there of dolls, digging holes in all of them for a cunt and 
ass, pin holes for nipples. Make them anatomically correct, 
what a fucken joke.

I carefully built up the walls of my room, Used old broken 
dolls and dirty blankets. The I added bricks, carrying one at 
a time. Built a cave. Drove my stepmother crazy. Fucken 
bricks, she said, laughing at her ass, giggling when Gail 
came over, we would hide behind the walls, and she'd be my 
daddy, and then she left, taking away by her parents and 
college. We really believed no one could see what we did 
together. She liked my tits. I had some. Almost curious, 
she'd touch the nipple, massing all over, tickling, getting 
out of breath, and then she'd hold me, get out of sorts, and 
shiver. I felt save.

Couldn't believe she moved away. Her Mom and Dad left. Picked 
up one weekend, and she was gone. Threw all the bricks out 
the window. Step Mom laughed, came in, two days latter, 
wearing only a night gown, and no panties. Showing it off, 
she laughed. Hard to know what else to do. Step Mom coming on 
to me, feeling real sick, dropped the walls one part at a 
time to let them all know how far I could go to get what I 
wanted. Let the bricks make a darker circle.

Stole fifty bucks from my dad, I had earned it, easy to do, 
from the drinking stiff. Mom watched, and said good-bye, if 
he doesn't shake it off soon, gonna cut it off, rubbing her 
pussy, she was drunk too, he had the money, where was it. Mom 
had it. 

Come here, she said. Kiss me, she said, and when I reached to 
pull it out of her hand, which I did, she tried to kiss me, 
grabbing me by my shirt, pulling me down on top of them, and 
I kicked her in her full tits.

Just got paid, what the fuck, packed up back pack, working 
hiking books, sweat shirts in layers, looked like a little 
boy, running out of the house in the November wind and rain. 
My friend Dave drove me to the bus confessing how he'd like 
to have sex with me now as I looked like a boy. Give me 
another chance, he suggested. Told Dave the truth. If I ever 
got back there, I'd fuck him silly, that he turned me on. I'm 
ten years older he said. 

So what if you're a cousin. You think I give a fuck. No, he 
didn't really want to do it. Couldn't say good bye, He didn't 
want me sad, he said. Gave me $20.00, forget it, he said, so 
surprised, by it all, couldn't believe it.

The air was cold, she said, Mom came when she died, she loved 
what to become, as I sat there within the debris: broken 
glass, car lights flashed about the tops of our heads asleep 
on the ground, I want to sleep too much, and could not keep 
it out of the metal ride. I won't cut, not awake I felt the 
air beneath my backside, cold, again my calves ached, it is 
cold I told my real MOM, she was gone, didn't stay, Not just 
show how many days pass from here to there. Riding the street 
magic carpet when I was small the entire world followed each 
back, side, front, identifying steps, out of sequence. Dance 
steps. Leaving the old fart steps, cross over, inside out, 
outside. The backs of my legs are frozen stiff, how long Pops 
before we get there. No, sure, honey, he said.

More erotica and other works by Sean Farragher:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sean_Farragher/


Sean  Farragher

Poetry Site: http://www.farragher.com

TxM6 Sites:
http://www.taximurders.com
http://www.taximurders.com/enfer
http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon
http://www.taximurders.com/paradisio   (forthcoming)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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