Lord MacSkinner's Soliloquy
by Walter Strikes-Spheres
by Ursula
Is this a paddle, which I see before me?
The handle toward my hand?
Come; let me strike with thee!
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, spanking vision, sensible,
To feeling as to sight or art thou but
A paddle of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as striking
As this rod which now I draw.
Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest, I see thee still,
And on thy broad surface and patina of oft use,
Which was not so before I met Fox and Rat.
It is the bruising business, which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the pairs of lovely cheeks
That Nature seems to perfect and wicked dreams abuse
Pale buttock's offerings. To blister Alex and Mulder,
I oft would wield my paddle, heavy and well smoothed,
By Fox and Rat's rounded asses.
Their voices rising in squealing alarms,
Sounding cries so full and anguished,
My neighbors ask me if it is a wolf,
Whose howls they hear thus apace.
I see Ratty's ravishing strides, towards his design
He moves like a ghost and lurks in shadows,
But gazing intently on my Fox, he loses his cunning,
Hears not my steps, which quietly walk, for fear
Thy very Lone Gunmen prate of my whereabouts.
But now I take the cleverly trapped rat, from the time,
And place which formerly suited him.
I capture him and my darling Fox,
Gazing sternly at their blushes
Caught, they stammer and Ratty utters threat,
But I raise my hands with broad brushes,
And soon with blows, give heat to my Foxy-pet.
Ratty-clever but still caught fairly,
Glances to the fireplace hearth,
Wherein my favorite paddle burns
Swallows hard and hangs head low.
He charmingly surrenders and bares
His palely glowing, still unblemished charms.
I arrange my brushes, rod, and belt,
My rope, my cord, my stinging cane,
My Rat and Fox stare in fascination.
Did they think when they burned my paddle,
That this would stop their fiery ends?
And when they're whimpering and regretting,
Their sweating heads and weeping eyes,
I'll gently wipe those streaming tears
Whisper sweetly in their darling ears,
Rat and Fox, when I am done petting,
To the wood shop, we will go and
And select stout lumber, sound and true,
And soon I shall see again my trusty paddle
Handle held aloft toward me and
Smooth broad surface striking thee.