Ask to Lucrezia (Borgia): LUCREZIA ONLINE

A Note to My Readers:

Today, children, Lucrezia is not a happy camper!  Miss Weaver, the publisher, called me and insisted that I attend the weekly staff meeting scheduled. I never go to those damned things, and she’s never said anything about it before. Nobody at those meetings understands me or my work and all they do anyway is sit around and talk about dead Indians, bad restaurants and sex.

Anyway I go. I’m sitting there and get presented a copy of a letter somebody e-mailed me some indeterminately long time ago. I never saw it before. It was from Northern Europe somewhere: I couldn’t make out the stupid header. I guess it ended up unread in one of my boxes. Funny, I usually read the foreign ones! Seems some egghead type, disputing some news article or other (don’t ask me – I never read them), used the message he sent to me to underscore whatever goddamned point he was making. He got me in some deep, major shit, so, thanks a lot, Professor Kool!

Harriet Weaver and her fucking crony stooges started bawling me out and riding me like I was Secretariat. I started getting a little steamy, so I exposed both my breasts to the whole bunch. They just kept on talking and pretending not to notice, so I took down my panties and mooned them for about five minutes. No reaction. Harriet just did her school marm number and said “I’d like everyone to leave the room with the exception of Ms. Borgia.”

Everybody else left the room and I started to put my ass away, but Harriet said “Wait! Not just yet!” She told me to bend over one of the conference chairs. She put on a pair of frayed and hardened leather construction worker’s gloves with shards of glass imbedded in the fingertips. She stuffed a rag in my mouth and flailed at my lily white buttocks for over twenty minutes until I was black, blue, battered, bruised and bleeding. Oh, God! Oh, God, how I love that woman! Of course then I told her, while licking the street filth off the bottoms of her shoes, that I would do absolutely anything she asked. “Just answer the letter, dear!” was all she said and then left.

I went immediately to my desk and deliberately sat down very hard on my raw and shredded buttocks, stuffed a rag back in my mouth and started working feverishly like the worthless little slave-slut whore that I am. I answered the letter. It was hard to do amid all that pain, all that ecstasy!