fiction

She was born in the back seat of a red station wagon. Schmama didn't give her any hugs or kisses. Occasionally, though, Peggy would receive a good smack in reward for those arbitrary actions that aroused her mother like a sharp pinch. Spankings by the fireplace were especially keen and Peggy's tears flowed in a lucid stream down her spotty cheeks. It was her own pleasure to induce these wonderful tangs of pain on her skin. Schmama finally went to sleep but Peggy's desire only grew stronger - a new passion blossomed in her soul and she vowed to deliver the joy she knew well unto others. I became the model of her expression and my skin and soul became swollen and warped. Her charity was unending as she became obsessed with the action and not the act.

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