Message-ID: <4959eli$9710181531@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: mithryl@walrus.com (Mithryl) Subject: CODY: NEW BOOK CANTERBURY TALES Prologue Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,rec.arts.prose,alt.torture Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6288fr$ebp$1@alice.walrus.com> Hi. This is the second book in The Stand-In Trilogy. Cody CHAUCERNET By Cody Ann Michaels c. All rights reserved General Prologue: Murder in the Cathedral "Can't yer bury'r tails?" -- Arno Schmidt >From jsxxxxxn@xxxu.edu Thu Oct 16 15:42:12 1997 Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 08:23:54 -0600 (MDT) etc. etc. we wrote once or twice.. where can I find some of your writings m'lady MAX * >From mithryl@walrus.com Thu Oct 16 15:46:11 1997 Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 15:49:37 -0400 (EDT) http://www.gts.net/cody.html * From... Oct. 17 thank you.. I have started one of the stories.. I do so enjoy your style tho I am a bit confused.. I do think however that is the point.. I like your style in many ways.. I would love to participate in your various needs.. I am an illustrator.. and perh aps you might enjoy an illustration or two in colaboration with your stories.. It woould be almost as much fun to drwa you begging, tied and used as it be to use you... I look forward to reading more about you.. MAX * Oct. 17 Hi, Scog or Max, whatever. Glad you like my stuff. I just came back to the city, and if you're confused, I'm even worse. Think that last guy did serious brain damage. My face feels like it's been moved three inches to the left. Anyway, I'd love to be your model. Feel free to draw me any way you please. It may be tricky getting the jpegs on this text only account. But I'm thinking seriously of opening one on aol. Need to think about it when I can think. Have a nice day. You'rs truly Cody Ann Michaels * Oct. oh poor baby,, she got herself in a jam.. I wonder if she begged forit... face all tigely and burning??? now would be a good time to start.. just when you think it's all over...hmmm I go by MAX especaily when I'm in the S/m area. I am curious about your statmets about D/s vs. S/m and B/D (my arnt we into initials) I gather bondage and disipline is NOT your thing??? Seems to me all part of the S/m sceen tho I can see how one could do B/D without S/m but whats the point.. expecialy with a lady such as your self.. (here I use the term 'lady' as a bit of a taunt) I'd love to hear about last night, and todo the dtawings it wouldhelp to have detailed description of your self.. I know you get asked for photos all the time and that would help but not required if you shy. things like specific length and style of hair.. culy , bangs etc.. yu tits.. you brag about hteri size but the nipples.. the areole size texture coloration?/ is your cunt shaved or trimed.. and 'toos or scars or peircings??/ fingernails.. jewlerry etc??/ If Im going to invest the time I want o not waste it.. get some rest... write quick MAX * What do I look like?> It seems I've been through this so often. I'm sure as hell not the same innocent waif as when I started out. I can tell you that. Somewhere along the line, something went terribly wrong. Well, what do you want to know? Measurements? 5 foot seven. 126 pounds. I'm putting on weight. Hair. Long, red. Usually it's curly, but right now, it's pretty slack. When it's washed and combed, it comes about to my waist. Right now, it's dirty and full of tangles. Do you want to know about the black eye? Both black eyes? Yes, I have bangs. To go with my bangs. No my cunt's not shaved. I think I said once my crotch is full of hair. A side effect from the hormones. It grows right up my be lly in a diamond shaped plume that goes above my belly button maybe an inch. Do you want to know what I look like naked or with clothes on? I'm wearing a sheer black body suit right now. But it's ripped to shreds from being dragged. It's not covering anything. My stockings are shredded, too. My tits are big. 44 EEEE. 44-18 -36. When I'm cinched in. Lots of scars. That guy whipped me. Most men want to. I know its because I have big tits that they want to hurt me. Yo got no idea. Once they get started. I don't feel so good. It's been a bad day. I woke up with a spli tting headache. Can't really think. I feel like a sewer. You didn't ask about tattoos, but "FUCK" "PIG" is tattoed on my tits, and SLAVE SLUT is stenciled on my ass over the butterfly, where the butterfly used to be before some guys in a roadhouse peel ed it off with a knife. They used an electrci shaver to make the tattoos. It hurt like hell. There's also rope marks at the base of my tits where they've been tied up. I have rings in the nipples. They're about two inches across. And in my naval. M y labia have six rings, three on each side, which can be used to pull my cunt wide open or wire it shut. I have five rings in my clit with weights hanging on them to pull it out, so that it looks like a little dick. Funny you should ask about jewelry because when I woke up this morning, I was wearing a wedding ring. I don't know what that means. I mean, I don't remember getting married. Or who it would be too. I think the last guy who dated me was already marrie d. I don't remember too much about anything. Except hitting a wall once. My brain is really fried. It's hard to follow all that stuff you wrote about b&d. What's d and s? Of course, Kelly and I have been married for almost a year now. But it's a ve ry open marriage. She has boy friends. I do, too. She also owns me. So if I married someone, I would have to have her permission. I wonder if I got it. Well, I hope this is helpful. I can't think of anything more. I really feel awful. Maybe I'll think of something else tomorrow. * Martin said I was so traumatized by my childhood experiences I had repressed everything. Maybe he was right. I did feel dead. The phone rang. I did not answer it. After four times, it stopped. I had a good idea who it was. But why had he hung up s o soon? Maybe I was getting paranoid. Martin paddled me for being a bad girl. It was part of the therapy. How was your trip, Martin asked. Okay. Get any work done? No. It was too hard to concentrate with Gran around. We bought her a new tv. To go with her new cable. Now she gets 62 channels. It's okay. As long as one of them has Peter Jennings. And Jeopardy. And the Crystal Cathedral. What about your fathe r? It's true. I had lied about my father. I had said he was dead. But he wasn't dead. He was in Congress. Martin asked if I felt I had to protect him. I didn't know what I felt. I was afraid if people started asking questions, you know, like I'm 1 4 and telling people what my father did to me, they might report it to the cops. So I made up the story that he died of cancer. That way, no one could get to him. Martin thought my willingness to acknowledge that my father was a Congressman was a signi ficant breakthrough. Of course, we don't have the same name. Michaels is a name I made up. So if there's a Congressman Michaels, that's not my father. "Your father is Crawford Michaels?" "Yes. I thought I told you." "No." "I thought you knew." "I didn't." I hope this doesn't change anything? no. no. of course not. I mean, it's not like he's such a saint. All that talk about family values. Well, who would know better. He has a lot of experience. But what happened to you? I ran away from home when I was thirteen. My mother was his second wife. She put herself through law school turning tricks. Cody, come back to home base. You've got to turn your father in. He'd kill me. It's your duty. Why can't Erica do it? She was my sister from his first marriage. Maybe she didn't have your experiences. I was afraid of her. My father was a famous medieval scholar before he was elected to Congress. He was an expert on Chaucer. In fact, he was the author of several books. An authority in his field. Why don't you write a book, Martin said. "About what your family did to you." I have to hold onto the furniture when I walk. My back's completely out. From my fifteen pound knockers and being picked up and body slammed on the garage floor. No. I love my father. I couldn't do that. Cody, he hurt you badly. It's because of what he did to you that you have this deep seated need to repeat your childhood traumas. Why else would you let men burn your breasts that way? Or walk around in a shredded body stocking and your hair full of s hit. I made a wrong turn. I was asking for directions. How'd I know they would do that? It's not the first time. "I'm sorry." Don't apologize to me. It was true. I owed him nothing. It was an even trade. He fucked me. I told him my problems. Well, it was more than that. He could do anything he wanted. Just don't break bones or tear anything off. I knew it was almost time. When they were going to do it. They let me write just so long. And then I had to do it. It was interesting to see what she said. Knowing she was going to die. Or get very hurt in a few moments. She tried to tell a good story. To keep them off. The CuntWhoreburry tales, she called them. Want to hear the Parson's tail? she asked. Or how about the tale of the Plowman? Chaucer never told that. So what was the Plowman's tale? The plowman was Waldo's brother. Waldo was the preacher at our church. His brother was a farmer. They used me for a tractor pull. Cept there was only one tracker. And a muddy field. It was the night of the junior prom. I was wearing a white dress, with my heair up. And seven inch stilletto shoes with padlocked ankle straps. You can imagine what I looked like when they took me back to the gym. And I had to crawl across the floor and give Harry Brown a blowjob. I was the queen. Harry was Plowman's son. He'd asked me to the dance, and I said I'd rather kiss a toad. Now I had his big rod in my mouth in front of the whole school. I kept trying to think how this had happened. I'd been writing a story. And knew something was go ing to happen. So I ran. And this is what happened. Now it was time to happen. I was dragged up out of my seat. Like a dog on a chain, and pulled into the other room. I would be. That is what happened. And then I was birched. And whipped. And .. . Go on. Take her. And then they let me go. And I walked back. I had the drugs in my crotch. They called her story The Whore's Tale. You didn't see that in Chaucer. No way. It had to be him. He taught at a boy's school in Rahleigh. Several of his kids were wwaiting. Several of his fingers were nussubg,. He gagged her., Before she could speak. To get the words out. Everything had to be protected. It was war without telling us. Be prepared. A soldier is always right. The left is left of center. He told me ever ything. Which do you want to hear first. His name was Chaucer. Arnold Chaucer. Senator Chaucer. Come right in. I'm glad to see you. Sit down there. How much? He named a figure. You got it. Yessssssssss! Why did he keep saying that? Anything can be bought. Chelsea Chaucer. My roommate. At college. Her father was a basketball player. He made Keds. Sit up and notice. An authority in his field. Everyone laughed. That's a romp. Norman really outdi d himself that time. No more than any man can./ To the degree that it is missing is the degree to which it wasn't heard. The Chaucer's tale is missing. In it's place we have a long essay on prudence. Why is this man missing?> He didn't report sir. AWOL from his command. That would be two demerits . What am I bid? Two spades. And a toenail. Beckett's relics. And an old tin can. He used for something I suppose. To keep his toe nails in. That's clipper. Something that I said and didn't do. Kill all the Jews. That prioress tale. A woposi. Woosi. A flop. Ten demirits. The batgirl payed for her officer's command. In spades, In Camelot. Don't bring that thing in here. I'm telling you. Mother would have a stroke. We're playing a game. That makes it simple. He didn't know what he was doing. It wasn't his fault. I made him do it. He had you tied up like this? Sort of. She wanted acknowledgement. Was it something she said? She leaned back and looked at the scream coming out of kelly's lips. Could you make her like that? Really hurting. In pain. Dying of agony. Having her guts ripped out. Really mutilate her. I think they cut off an ear. Ripped it away from her head. I liked the look on Kel's face just then. Shrieking as her hair pulls loose. And the skin is peeled down her face. It makes a kind of v that follows her chin. Now she's crying because she can see her face in the mirror and it's making her sick. She's writhing around clutching her guts. Her belly's been ripped open and her intestines pulled out. And handed to her. She's holding them with a velvet glove. tre eligante. Her stockings have b een ripped down to her boot tops. Kelly's twisting her self up in a knot trying to squeeze out the pain. I feel nothing. I want to feel her bleed. I want to feel her twisted body. Her emaciated ribs. Her beach ball hooters. I want to feel her pain as they're sliced and diced. Swelling up from the ropes round my chest. How about it, Kel. What's it like? She hates me. I know she hates me. For making the switch. So she'd get it all. The major difference between us is Kelly's cunt is shaved. And now there's the missing ear. It makes you think, what else be could cut off. * I wonder if any of those who have been thrown off Chaucernet would like to start a club. I was. For asking a bad question. Anyway, I'd like to hear your experiences. That's how I met Dorian. He said he had had a bad experience. Would I like to talk about it? Okay. Well, it started like this. I was going to Florida for a holiday. To see my parents and visit Gran. She's nuttier than ever. My brother is in prep school. My Dad's in Congress. Get that? They let me stay. Did you know the sirens of Ireland could write a whistle so keen it could whip your head off and you wouldn't know it until you bent down to tie your shoes? They terminated me when I asked if Chaucer had hated the Jews. Write to me Cody Ann Philips at this address. I always write back. How much am I bid for a pair of pink underpanties slightly soiled. The bidding started at a hundred. Thou. What about the Miller's tale. The millar was drunk. Slightly soiled with Cody Ann's shit. You can dna it. The next generation came from shit. You can tell. They lack that luster that sets them apart. A brown skinned race. No one could understand him. He shit in her face. No Robin. It was the other way around. Surely. The prioress blushed. And fed her dog. The English are a lusty race. Race you to katerinbergy. He rode her jeeves. I'm telling you. He had the look of a chucer about him. She fed him out of a chaucer. Now we'll hear a story. Step up sir. Old H airy riding them along like a duchess for a mare. You don't hear the Horse's story. It was the mare, I tell you. He rode her hotspur in the Belmont. By jove, he did, didn't he. Feed her into the magpie there . A bird told you, did it? What kind of fool am I? Getting hooked up with a gang like that. We found them at Brie forest. Spring came late to that section of the woods that year and the party must have got separated from the larger bunch. These were outcasts to their fate. They would go do wn slowly into the marsh. Even though several coul;dn't swim. Knee deep in the old muddy. It's a castle for that. Been in France have you? Which one had it worse> Arcita or Pelamon. Consider the merits of each case. Arcite was the queen's body gua rd on the night of the car crash. Solomon had his balls in a... well, I won't say. You get the picture. What about Emily?> Emily is in the dungeon. They had it the other way around. But what really happened was this. Project Arcita. I like it. Wh at does it mean? Arcita is Pelmon. What? Pelman. On the oars. Stroke. Oh God, you have no idea. I think we made a rong turn back there. Is this Rochester? No. This is Jack Benny. Who is this? Norman! Oh yes. The conqueor. We know all about it. There weree some stories they did not want to hear. Chaucer had to abandon them. Also, he himself was cut off . For not living up to standards. He had to stand in front of his bed and do pushups. Discipline. Discipline. Discipline. Our natura l rival was the Citadel. Each had to be especially careful. They stopped for the night and put up at the inn. Harry got them a deal. And made a commission. He had a franchise. Tabard, Inc. Each inn looked the same as the one in Southwark. They wer e scattered all over England and parts of Ireland. You bought a package. Two nights out, two back. All meals and tips. Licensed beverages were extra. The nun got sick. The water was bad./ Fresh spring water was available at a price. They dredged i t out of the Mercy. You just knew that. I thought why wriote a book when there was so much stuff available in public domain. Just use that. You know how they write movies from books. How come no one ever wrote a book from a book. So I thought of using Dickens, but their group is even crazi er than the Chaucer one. So I decided on Chaucer. For my dissertection. And now I'm stuck. For Richard or for poorer. Of course, Shakespear was down on the Lancasters. But Richard was something else. I don't like to mention. Sedition. I will not put up with tradition. For England and St. George. Chaucer's shadow was eleven feet at count down. Chaucer was two inches high. They argued over Chaucer's height. One said he was six feet. Another said all men were six feet tall in his time. So it didn't count. If a six foot man casts an eleven foot shadow, what time is it? April 18. But what year? Another argument. 87. 94. A seven year distance. Could mean something. In the old calendar. Which was slightly off. By about five feet. I'd say six. Careers were riding on the outcome. Immense grants to study Chaucer Welfare. How much more could be learned? Come sir. Tell a taile. Feed it into the organ grinder of your music box. Grind it up. Like she was chewing onit. My word sir. You ahve a bimbo of a tail. Let me give her a whip. She's shy sir. Be gentle. The nun had a baby. The Reeve was a woman in disguise. In fact, several of the travelers are women. Which probably explains why we don't have their stories. He caused immense damage to this list. Our membership was descim ated. I took him out. It was a club. You were allowed to have arms. But it had to be kept at the clubhouse. You checked it in and out each time you wanted to do a job. There you are Derek. Good as used./ Have a bang up crtack up. Are you mad? Yo u can't go in there. The road's cloised. We have toi go back. Is this Canterbury? Have we arrived yet? No. This is Squeal. On the Buxton road. I think we're lsot. I thought you said you knew the way. Oh, that Canterbury! I thought you meant the one in Sussex. Most folks prefer it. They have some fine gardens. And a ruined castle. But what about Beckett?> Becket ius deakd' oh that beket I thought you meant the other one. Did I ever tell you about my holes in time theory. Timne is laced u p with holes, sort of like a badly fitted corset. Which are called names. So there's the Beckett whole and the Canterbury hole and the mole hole. I think we got her charlie. She's running from the past. Zero Mostel. Take her out. It was the Cuban missle crisis that did it. And the man on the plane. The stewardess offered hot dogs and magzines. Was this a stewardess that I see before me her dagger in my hand. She had to do a deal. The stewardess's tail was a long franchise. Her hero to my hips. Protect the cjhiold at all costs. England will survive. As long as I know how to love I know I'll be alive. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /