Weeb Slinger
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Sep 4, 2019
LOLSUIT
“I want you to make me the best suit in the universe,” said George.
“That is a very tall order,” replied Gilbert, the tailor, as he studied the dead-eyed specimen who stood, slump-shouldered before him.
“I am a moderately tall man,” replied George. “Therefore the order should be tall, but not so tall that it fails to meet with the physical measurements I have provided.”
“Thank you for your tailoring advice,” said Gilbert, who had been in the trade for over thirty years.
“There remains the issue of what you mean when you say that you want the best,” continued the tailor. “Aesthetically, which is one of the ways the suit will be judged, 'the best' is a subjective term. What one man might consider to be the greatest suit ever made, another might regard as unfit even to floss the cleft between his buttocks. In terms of best quality, while I am a skilled tailor, among the finest in my trade, it would be presumptuous of me to claim that I have made the best suit in the universe. Who knows what other tailors there are out there among the stars? If we permit ourselves to entertain the notion of a god, who is creator of all things, then surely only he would be capable of tailoring the best suit in the universe. In this case the suit might be so close to perfection that to gaze upon it would invite madness and destruction.”
George nodded as if Gilbert were dispensing with preliminary formalities, as opposed to outlining an ontological argument that might derail the concept of the suit that he intended to commission.
“It must also be the biggest suit in the universe,” he said, contradicting a statement that he had made earlier.
Gilbert shook his head.
“This I cannot do,” he said. “I already made the Biggest Suit in the Universe last week. It was for a catgirl grandmother. Sadly it was too small to accommodate her massive tits. When she buttoned the jacket, the triple-herringbone stitching tautened but did not give out. Unable to escape, her body was compressed into the form of a supermassive tit. Shortly after it collapsed into a singularity, taking the suit and the city of Portland with it.”
George went on to list the other qualities that he wished to see realised in his suit:
Among these were Velcro patches on the sleeves, breast pockets and crotch, to accommodate the shark decals that he had attached to the wall above his bed in the hope of attracting women and introducing an element of danger in any sex that might ensue.
“I want a woman to imagine that she must first defeat a fearsome underwater predator if she is to gain access to my junk,” said George. “I think that it will help to weed out timewasters and anyone who is not fully committed to the needs of my penis.”
There were to be abundant hidden pockets, including one that was both insulated and waterproofed to accommodate soup, and a pocket containing a bag of sand so that George would be able to experience the authentic feel of a woman's breasts whenever he desired. There was also to be a 'cuck pocket'.
“A cuck pocket?” enquired Gilbert.
“It's a pocket that I can climb into when my girlfriend's boyfriend is wearing the suit,” elaborated George.
“I will do my best,” said the tailor. “I must warn you that I am currently hard at work on another complex project that I failed to complete satisfactorily the first time around. You could call it my 'Other Project Two'. Let us just say that mistakes were made.
“Good news,” announced Gilbert. “I have found a way to produce a suit that combines your needs with those of the man who commissioned the other project that I mentioned to you the last time you were here.
He snatched away a sheet of cloth revealing a purple pantomime cow.
"Presenting JuJu the Cow!”
Excitedly the tailor began to point out the many features of his creation:
“You see you udders down here – now you will never be without the touch of female breasts,” he said. “The udders also dispense warm soup, though you require somebody to milk you and then feed it to you. I am certain you have many friends who will perform this service for you. Now this is the thing that I am most proud of...”
He separated the costume in two. The back end was occupied by a balding Mexican homunculus who George immediately recognised as his nemesis, Dick Masterson.
“You requested a cuck pocket. All master Dick requires is that he be the rear end of a purple pantomime cow named JuJu, so that he can achieve full sexual gratification while he is being fucked in the ass by his childless girlfriend. I understand that the lady in question was once your girlfriend, making you the eternal cuck... Try it on please. Let us see whether the cow suit fits.”
Reluctantly George climbed into the front of the cow costume.
“Yes, I think that this will suit you both well,” said Gilbert as he sewed the two halves together, making sure that the stitches were extra tight.
Together Dick and George lumbered out of the shop. Dick was either drunk or high and swayed unsteadily.
From the forecourt of a MacDonald's an obese Mexican, named Vito, looked on with interest.
“I would totally fuck that purple cow in the ass,” he announced loudly, glancing around to see whether he had been heard. A pair of women scowled back at him as they ushered their children inside the restaurant.
“Only joking,” said Vito. “I'm not really into bestiality...”
“...except I am,” he continued quietly, under his breath, “and I am absolutely going to rape that cow.”
He stuffed the remainder of the Big Mac into his mouth and set off in pursuit.
“I want you to make me the best suit in the universe,” said George.
“That is a very tall order,” replied Gilbert, the tailor, as he studied the dead-eyed specimen who stood, slump-shouldered before him.
“I am a moderately tall man,” replied George. “Therefore the order should be tall, but not so tall that it fails to meet with the physical measurements I have provided.”
“Thank you for your tailoring advice,” said Gilbert, who had been in the trade for over thirty years.
“There remains the issue of what you mean when you say that you want the best,” continued the tailor. “Aesthetically, which is one of the ways the suit will be judged, 'the best' is a subjective term. What one man might consider to be the greatest suit ever made, another might regard as unfit even to floss the cleft between his buttocks. In terms of best quality, while I am a skilled tailor, among the finest in my trade, it would be presumptuous of me to claim that I have made the best suit in the universe. Who knows what other tailors there are out there among the stars? If we permit ourselves to entertain the notion of a god, who is creator of all things, then surely only he would be capable of tailoring the best suit in the universe. In this case the suit might be so close to perfection that to gaze upon it would invite madness and destruction.”
George nodded as if Gilbert were dispensing with preliminary formalities, as opposed to outlining an ontological argument that might derail the concept of the suit that he intended to commission.
“It must also be the biggest suit in the universe,” he said, contradicting a statement that he had made earlier.
Gilbert shook his head.
“This I cannot do,” he said. “I already made the Biggest Suit in the Universe last week. It was for a catgirl grandmother. Sadly it was too small to accommodate her massive tits. When she buttoned the jacket, the triple-herringbone stitching tautened but did not give out. Unable to escape, her body was compressed into the form of a supermassive tit. Shortly after it collapsed into a singularity, taking the suit and the city of Portland with it.”
George went on to list the other qualities that he wished to see realised in his suit:
Among these were Velcro patches on the sleeves, breast pockets and crotch, to accommodate the shark decals that he had attached to the wall above his bed in the hope of attracting women and introducing an element of danger in any sex that might ensue.
“I want a woman to imagine that she must first defeat a fearsome underwater predator if she is to gain access to my junk,” said George. “I think that it will help to weed out timewasters and anyone who is not fully committed to the needs of my penis.”
There were to be abundant hidden pockets, including one that was both insulated and waterproofed to accommodate soup, and a pocket containing a bag of sand so that George would be able to experience the authentic feel of a woman's breasts whenever he desired. There was also to be a 'cuck pocket'.
“A cuck pocket?” enquired Gilbert.
“It's a pocket that I can climb into when my girlfriend's boyfriend is wearing the suit,” elaborated George.
“I will do my best,” said the tailor. “I must warn you that I am currently hard at work on another complex project that I failed to complete satisfactorily the first time around. You could call it my 'Other Project Two'. Let us just say that mistakes were made.
~
They say that a week is a long time in politics. George was not a politician and so, from his perspective, time flowed at a normal rate. On Thursday he presented himself at the tailors shop for the unveiling of his suit.
“Good news,” announced Gilbert. “I have found a way to produce a suit that combines your needs with those of the man who commissioned the other project that I mentioned to you the last time you were here.
He snatched away a sheet of cloth revealing a purple pantomime cow.
"Presenting JuJu the Cow!”
Excitedly the tailor began to point out the many features of his creation:
“You see you udders down here – now you will never be without the touch of female breasts,” he said. “The udders also dispense warm soup, though you require somebody to milk you and then feed it to you. I am certain you have many friends who will perform this service for you. Now this is the thing that I am most proud of...”
He separated the costume in two. The back end was occupied by a balding Mexican homunculus who George immediately recognised as his nemesis, Dick Masterson.
“You requested a cuck pocket. All master Dick requires is that he be the rear end of a purple pantomime cow named JuJu, so that he can achieve full sexual gratification while he is being fucked in the ass by his childless girlfriend. I understand that the lady in question was once your girlfriend, making you the eternal cuck... Try it on please. Let us see whether the cow suit fits.”
Reluctantly George climbed into the front of the cow costume.
“Yes, I think that this will suit you both well,” said Gilbert as he sewed the two halves together, making sure that the stitches were extra tight.
Together Dick and George lumbered out of the shop. Dick was either drunk or high and swayed unsteadily.
From the forecourt of a MacDonald's an obese Mexican, named Vito, looked on with interest.
“I would totally fuck that purple cow in the ass,” he announced loudly, glancing around to see whether he had been heard. A pair of women scowled back at him as they ushered their children inside the restaurant.
“Only joking,” said Vito. “I'm not really into bestiality...”
“...except I am,” he continued quietly, under his breath, “and I am absolutely going to rape that cow.”
He stuffed the remainder of the Big Mac into his mouth and set off in pursuit.
