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... Wherein Kermit Finds Himself With Yet Another Noted Client ...
She couldn't Take her own Heat.
Mistress Laura, that is. Or Mistress Gwen or Mistress Sandra or whoever. Doubtless all three of them Pisces Chicks with a Heaping Load of Aries in their Charts, like most Dominatrix bitches.
Fenton Rochilieu's Body was beaten pretty much Beyond Recognition, and even Terry, my Assistant, dry-heaved a little just looking at it. The man had been FLOGGED, all but EVISCERATED. Blood, welts, cigarette burns, disfiguring bruises, Blunt-Force Trauma to just about every organ you can think of. It made me think, really.
See, in my Vocation, I've had the chance over the years to develop ties to the New Orleans D/s Community (and the New Orleans Necrophiles, but that's a bit of a different thing, ha ha), and I've observed it to be a Very Different Animal than other such Communities, like the one in Berlin or the one in Amsterdam or the one in Copenhagen or Brussels or the one in San Francisco, perhaps the most Noted D/s city in America. The difference is, that THERE (and I know this dude who lives there, BTW, he's gonna publish this Book I told you I was writing), they more or less have their shit together and their Ducks in a Row while HERE, they do NOT. Like you've got so many Whores here but most of 'em are just SLUTS, doing it for free like the Hoor that killed Fenton Rochilieu, and the ones who're into S & M and D/s don't have any METHOD, they just don't know what the FUCK they're doing! Not that I'm actively involved in this mySELF, though Melanie Hassler and I occasionally like to add a little Spice of Pain in with our not inconsiderable Pleasure.
Rochilieu was found dead with his face in a Puddle of Piss after he didn't show up to Teach his Art Class on Ingres Influence on David Hockney, and an Art Slut went to his place to find the door ajar and the Grisly Spectacle inside. He probably called out his "safe word" about a zillion times but the Hoor didn't even care! Didn't even KNOW about Safe Words. That's New Orleans for ya. I wonder what his Safe Word WAS? "Red" perhaps, or "Mouse." Those are pretty common. MY safe word is "Albert Schweitzer." It never fails. Melanie's Safe Word is "Ernie K-Doe." It never fails, either. Now THAT'S fucking TEAMWORK.
Still, though I disliked the man, it's too bad he had to Die such a Gruesome Death. His ex-woman was a little Broken Up but not for long, really, as she'd observed me to be a far greater artist than Fenton, and she is Nothing if not an Art Slut. Which is what I'm gonna call my NEXT novel, which will be written from the Perspective of one. It'll be huge in Tulsa. It'll rock their cocks off in Lincoln. They'll be eating it up in Walla-Walla. They'll be Loving it in Petaluma.
Remind me to tell you about my Musical. My e-mail address is jadedmortician@neworleans.com. Write me! I'll write you back. I hope to get some great nude pics from all you Ladies. Anything interesting, I'll put in the book.
Anyway, I've been trying to Save my Strength for Halloween. Halloween is HUGE in New Orleans.
And yesterday, driving up Camp Street, I saw the freshest, most beautiful young Art Hoor I've ever seen, and I'll admit I almost asked if she Needed a Ride.
And how do I know who what & how Fenton Rochilieu met his End?
There are lots of little inconsistencies of that Nature in this Book, in case you're just Tuning In.
But This is the Town where your only Excuse is your Life. And that Excuse is getting pretty tired.
Interlude ... We Hear from a Fan ...
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