Sian Evans’ New Short Story – Send Her Away

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Send Her Away

 

The Matron

Polly had scuttled over to the far corner where she was presently relieving herself, the yellow stinking fluid, tinged with pink, was running down her inner thighs and over her feet.  Mid-flow she sat, crossing her legs and arms like a child and started to sing.

“You!” The Matron said quietly but with firm authority to the orderly who was sweeping the corridor.  “I want this floor cleaned, and the windows washed down.  Then open them.  Is there anything wrong with fresh air?”

“No Ma’am.”

The Orderly

It was all her fault, all of it, the bitch.  If James hadn’t have raped that girl and if she hadn’t confessed to her daddy and her daddy hadn’t come banging on his father’s door and the girl hadn’t stated that it was Jack when she meant James he wouldn’t be here now.

His brother would pay for this.  As sure as that young woman in the corner was a wretched freak of nature, he would get his revenge on his brother.  He would use the sluts here because no one believes the words a mad woman says.  The doctors might want to believe that these freaks were leading a normal life but he knew different.

All women were lying whores who used their cunts to tie a man up in knots.  They play the innocent, with the baby blue eyes and kiss-a-bow lips and pert tits and peach firm arse and her blond hair that curled over her chest tickling the spot where underneath he knew her nipple would be rose pink.  She would talk to him with that sweet lilting voice and his cock would stiffen and she knew, she knew she would lick it like a Christmas candy cane and she knew she would break it into sugar diamonds with my precious cunt.

The doctors thought that they knew best, that a woman could be changed but he knew better.  His best friend Jim had taught him all he needed to know about the bitches, how to spot their lies.

Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease they never shut up always demanding always wanting more more more more he only had one cock and Jim had told him to force his cock into their lying bitch mouths to shut them up and so he did he did he did he did them in their mouth their cunt their anus and they would stop begging they would be crying weeping screaming silent dead and he would keep fucking them them them more than one two three four more than four more than five more than six they were asking for it with her baby blue eyes and kiss-a-bow lips and pert tits and her peach firm arse and her blond hair that curled over her chest tickling the spot where underneath he knew her nipple would be rose pink she would talk to him with that sweet lilting voice and his cock would stiffen and she knew that he loved her and she laughed laughing laughing laughing giggling freak like the bitch in the corner with her foul body stench Jack told me stay clear of girls like her who would make me love them too much make me want to force me to find out if their pussy’s tasted like cherries Jim said beware of the freak whore who touches herself for she thinks she is better than a man better than me better than you.

 I’ve my eye on you John.

“Be quiet!”  John shouted at her as she rocked herself in the corner.  He was the man, he was the boss and he was the king!

Her hand is under her dress.  What is she doing?  What is she doing!  That dirty filthy slut, she was pleasuring herself!  What had Jim told him about women like her?  Dirty foul beasts, doing the job of a man, and when that man wants to rub his fingers against her wet pussy they cry No! they cry Rape! they cry.

He kept his head down, he never got into any trouble, he kept away from the girls he did he really did and yet they made him crave them.

“Go away”

“I want you John and I’m going to have you.”

“Shut up bitch.”

“I’m going to have you.  I’m going to have you.  I’m going to have you.”

John watches Polly in the corner, one hand buried under her dress, her other hand holding the side of her head, clutching at her ear and she’s mumbling and mumbling and mumbling and mumbling and mumbling, he makes a move he says I’m going to…no I can’t…no I won’t…not like that…going to…Jim haven’t I always done what…

 

The Husband

… Doctor admit my wife Polly she winked at the butcher, she won’t eat, she speaks when not spoken to, she has green eyes, she doesn’t speak, she’s having a baby and I tell you it’s not mine, she offered my boss a cherry scone with his tea, she walks bare foot in the rain, she walks in the garden at midnight, she walks out of the house without permission, she walks, she can’t bring a baby to term, she sleeps with her brother, she giggles at the postman’s jokes, she doesn’t let me tie her up and spank her, she throws up her food, she sits in her chair and rocks all day, take her away the foul creature she bleeds from her quim every month, she doesn’t go to church, she makes these feral noises during coition, she’s twenty-eight and not married, she doesn’t bleed from her quim every month, she goes to church too much, she sticks pins into her inner thigh, she spends too much time with Miss Elizabeth Spencer, she masturbates, she masturbates and won’t let me watch, she doesn’t play with our children, she speaks too much about God, she doesn’t know how to make a carrot cake, she won’t eat her sprouts, she killed her children, she wears her hems too short, she talks to God and she talks to God and she talks to God and she’ll only follow His orders and not mine, is that right? I ask you: is that right?  I’m her husband she must follow my rules, orders, laws, sexual perversions AND she can’t give me a son, she’s not a woman, I tell you, she’s mad! off to the asylum with her, take her away Doctor, get rid of it …

 

The Wife

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