Talk:Kikimora/@comment-27950421-20170322182934/@comment-24026095-20170322215126

I throw mud at all the kikimoras and make them squeal with disgust as they try to wipe it off. Meanwhile, I leap over them like Alex Mercer and fly gracefully out of the window, my arms outstretched, the wind blowing through my hair and the scent of freedom surrounding me. I run up a building, rebound off someone's office window as the whole department has its faces pressed up against the window trying to get pictures and bonking each other on the head for first dibs on royalties.

LOL, who am I kidding?

The kikimora see me with my hand in the mud about to throw it at them, and they all rush at me with sponges, dishwashing liquid and shower gel. They all scrub me down until I'm sparkling like a pair of glittering jeans or ankle strap heels within 0.674733 nanoseconds, and then drag me to the bedroom. There, I'm punished with an over-the-knee bare bottom – er, completely naked and humiliating spanking for an hour or two (with my cock stuck between their frilly little maid skirts) by each kikimora for being a naughty little boy. Sneaking out to play with friends without asking, playing in the mud, not wiping my shoes on the carpet when I came in, not picking up the carpet, wrapping myself in it and rolling around in the entrance hall so I could clean off the rest of the mud before daring to show my face inside the sitting room, and running away from a bath given by several annoying Mommies who actually want their kids to be clean. Dammit.

They suddenly recall the fact that I didn't take a bath as well, and shove me in the tub without needing to take anything off since they already attached a collar and leash to me and grounded me for a year. Each of the kikimora also decide to give me a personal massage and some training on using my tongue (without talking at all) for the rest of my life, since they all want a piece of ... my tongue, and I need to be trained properly.

Woof woof.