The Analist

     It was a creepy slow night in a damp little town of Santa Fe. The rain was beating down harshly, and all the streets were deserted. The street lights were dimly lighted that seem drowned by the heavy rain. A horse-driven carriage appeared on the other corner of the street and a smoke of cold breath from the pallid horse was depicted through the dim streetlight as the horse breath hastily in exhaustion. A man from the carriage handed a 500 peso bill to the thin horseman that can be seen scratching his head annoyingly.

     “What the hecK? Where on hell i could get small bills for your change? You just owe me 300 and this is my first trip for the whole day.” Said the horseman while coughing in between words and spitting his phlegm on the rain-soaked pavement.

      “Keep the change and get a damn good medicine for your tuberculosis.”

       “Thank you enjoy the night!” as the horseman whipped the horse’s boney back until it disappeared in the dark.

 
    The man wearing a wet leather jacket and a leather hat stopped at the small hotel and laid a 200 note on the desk, telling the hotel attendant he wanted a room for two to spend the night. The scent of his maleness stunned the senses of the female attendant.

    “For two? Asked the curious hostess.

    “Yes for two are you deaf?.” Replied the irked man.

    Upon checking the logbook she gave the room key to the man standing in front of her. His eyes could slice her into pieces and her benevolence is overpowered by his presence. “Here’s the key for the room for two, on the second floor please, and by the way, I maybe deaf but i am not blind mister.”

     He slowly opened the door with the key provided by the hostess and as he opened it the cool air added chill to his spine. He switched on the light of the room, the ceiling fan is on and a trouser and pair of shoes were on the right corner of the room.

     “Come in, i have been waiting for you for quite an hour now.”

     “I...i’m so...sorr..”

     “Never mind just do your job and everything will be alright. Let’s drink to your will be superb performance and while we drink just take out all that stuff out of your body.”

     He nervously followed the instruction he held the wine glass and emptied it.

     “Are you gonna take that stupid clothes off or do i have to rip it off?” the voice snarled.

     He took off his clothes until the remains of the garment lay on the floor like a pile of crimson rose petals and he found himself naked like an innocent child.

    “Now let’s start the ceremonial sacrifice!” a metal buckle hit him at the back, at his shoulders, thighs, loins and a few hit at his buttocks. He was lying on the floor in pain and blood from his wounds mix with his sweat covers his swollen skin while the pipe-in music of the room conceal his agony. “Ahhhhhrrggggghhh!” he yelled.

    “Shhhhhh! Take it easy honey, dont make any noise least someone will peek in our small paradise.” Then he squatted in front of the lying man on the floor, his knees on either side of the man’s shoulders. He trusted his stale, sweaty prick into his mouth. “Suck it! and suck it pretty good!” Then he was ramming it all the way to man’s tonsils. The man’s eyes rolled wildly mutely trying to signal his desperation. But he was too obsessed with his own maniacal lust to notice anything only the dizzily mounting pleasure from man’s throat.

    “And now the main event! On your knees! He grabbed hold of the man’s bottom. He slid in easily, gradually maneuvering the man’s bottom until he was in all the way into his large intestine. The man could hardly move in pain while his torturer was travelling in bed of pleasure. Until they found themselves both lying on the floor.

    “You are as damn good as usual honey.” He said while staring at the ceiling.

    “But it’s damn painful Brando.”

    “Oh well, in exchange of 5,000 pesos would make it better. You may go dont wait till break of morning.”

     “Okey thank you, till next time Brando.”

     “Till next time, and hey use the fire exit, my female attendant will let this room fix if she notice that you are leaving.”

     “Okey, you are the owner of this hotel anyway.”

     It was a creepy dawn in a damp little town of Santa Fe. The rain was already abated, and all the streets were still deserted. The street lights were still dimly lighted that seem drowned by the heavy rain. A horse-driven carriage appeared on the other corner of the street and a smoke of cold breath from the pallid horse was depicted through the dim streetlight.

     “Take me to the nearest church.” Said the man wearing a leather jacket and a leather hat.

     “Okey, how was your night?” asked by the horseman.

     “Pretty good, the angels visited in my dream.”