Comics & Side Projects

Curse of the Winter Whore

winter-whore Allow me to present a little body horror for your amusement. Also, do not mock the virility of senior citizens; it’s serious business.

Curse of the Winter Whore: a ribald poem

A nonogenarian named Mr. Lee
lived in a home named Watersea,
over the hill and past his prime
burden’d with too much idle time.

Far from feeble and not quite wise,
consumed by lust of teenag’d size
a priapism plagued his mind
and his sex was of a vig’rous kind.

With the last hard functioning prick,
This Mr. Lee, he had his pick.
The first old biddy broke her knee.
Cardiac arrest claimed the next three.

But Mr. Lee, he needed more
so called he on the Winter Whore
thus named because her clientel
were graying men who’d aged well.

His flesh was wrinkled, hoary, slack
“But still a demon in the sack!”
The sex was frenzied, frantic, mad;
he was the best she’d ever had.

He’d quenched the whore’s insatiable thirst
But! Business before pleasure first.
Her lucrative trade, of noteworthy mention;
the Winter Whore’d drained many a pension.

Yes, she was canny, sharp and shrewd
with enterprising attitude.
Before each carnal tryst or trounce
she’d check her clients’ bank accounts.

Her rates were high, exorbitant
But Mr. Lee, well he was spent.
“What do you mean you cannot pay?”
He’d signed his power of attorney away.

Two weeks spent in coital friction
Could only be paid by malediction.
The whore, she cast a vengeful spell
to make Watersea a viral hell.

Mr. Lee was the first infected
but he prefered it unprotected
so passed it he to Mrs. Chang
who gave it to Mssrs. Wong and Wang.

And in this way the virus spread
From Au to Zhang, from bed to bed.
Watersea was like a college dorm;
hook ups there were just the norm.

It began with general unrest,
then a tightness in the chest
unnatural lusts under the skin
the viral heat unleash’d within.

Within a week, the polyps would show
inflamm’d and redden’d they would grow
each swelling rubbery, turgid, tender
until it burst into a member.

It mattered not the person’s gender
a cunt or cock the wound would render.
New orifices bloomed a plenty
Mr. Lee himself had twenty.

Although the curse would remain nameless
In Watersea, they all were shameless.
They exposed their genitalia,
as if adorned with fine regalia.

The medical staff were all dumbfounded.
Such voracious lust left them astounded.
Once a hush’d and private affair,
copulation happened everywhere.

Eventually, they stopped separating
this endless circle of elderly mating
became a writhing mass of meat
a carnal creature now in heat.

It frigged with its heads and with its feet.
Forgot to sleep, to bathe and eat.
A monstrosity of masturbation
unable to reach satiation.

So then one fateful, morbid night,
it tried to slake its appetite
with its first victim, a virgin nurse
devoured by the harlot’s curse.

Then two physicians, a volunteer.
The Watersea staff, they lived in fear
of being assaulted and violated
yet the creature’s lust went unabated.

The state was called to intervene.
Watersea was quarantined.
The staff was left to die inside
(a few committed suicide).

In time, the rest of staff were killed
but the creature remained unfulfilled
tortured with its crazed cravings
reduced to onanistic ravings.

Its cries would echo down the halls.
Its sexual fluids smeared the walls.
Its cursed flesh rubbed ’til it bled
’til the poor beast fucked itself dead.

And thus concludes this sordid story,
the details giv’n in wretched glory
as warning of what lies in store
to he who cheats the Winter Whore.

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