Why do things always happen with parsimonious menial rhythm?
I have something I want to do tonight, Sugar Plum, Alfred said one night.
What's that? I asked.
I am going to have you send some of my friends sexual energy. They want you, and they want to feel your energy too. You send me sexual energy, I will deflect it onto my friends. Kay?
Okay, why not? I said. I started rolling around on my bed in lust. After a second, Alfred deflected the energy onto one of his friends.
I didn't get anything back. The guy who I sent it to said I was not fit to receive anything in return.
The next guy I sent sexual energy to sent a focal point of energy back and rubbed it on my heart, indicating that he would like to kill me right now. When that was done, he sent me morbid death energy, to indicate that he would like to see me dead.
I sent it to one more guy. He did something where he took a focal point of energy, but it in my ass, and then in my mouth, to indicate that he would do things to me that I would not want him to. Then, I started lusting uncontrollably for him. Subconsciously, he had told me that if I didn't send him sexual energy, he would make my afterlife experience full of dark entities in a foul fashion. I lusted, and lusted, and Alfred told me to stop. He couldn't do anything, he was just bluffing. This guy was a dark mother fucker.
The last one I sent sexual energy was one of Alfred's friends who was the equivalent of a heroin addict, the heroin they have on the other side. He was missing it, so Alfred thought some of my sexual energy would help. When I sent him the energy, he sent me back female energy in return, to turn me off so I wouldn't expect anything from him.
Did you like that, Sugar Plum? All my friends agree, you should just kill yourself now! Get to the other side! Lickety split!
Later, Alfred told me that those same friends who had received the sexual energy were no longer his friends because of it. For various reasons, one said he wanted to do a sexual act with me, one so dark it is almost unspeakable. Alfred told me it was the equivalent of stopping and starting the heart many times, and was against the rules, and was torture to the one they were doing the heart thing to.
When it was all done, I thought I was having a good time. Little did I know, subconsciously, I was in turmoil. When did Alfred become such a mad man? He wanted me dead, right now. He did not want to wait. All his friends wanted me dead. Alfred was a good guy, sure, but he had a very strong dark side. I was not willing to wait until the end of the game to play the rulebook, I was going to tell him to buzz off with a bee wing making him stay in one place, because I didn't want to do the Pussycat Brawl anymore. Yet, still, I was down. I bit the bullet everytime he told me to. His favorite emotion I had was when I did it in a dainty fashion, while embarrassed about my own daintiness. Still, I was in turmoil. I could not let this mad man control my sexual life in the afterlife. It would be a disaster.
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