A Sequence of Unwelcome Encounters ((LitShark & princesssexci))

LitShark

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First Period: Schadenfreude​

With the great wealth of visual, auditory and literary content available to you this very moment, in an instant, throughout the nearly limitless internet—it cannot be that this account is the one thing that you have chosen to dedicate your time and attention to reading. Please, do yourself a favor and highlight the search bar at the top of this page and navigate to absolutely anywhere else on the world wide web, so that you will not be forced to contemplate the true, and unabridged tragedy of the Baudelaire Orphans during their time at Prufrock Preparatory Academy.

My name is Lemony Snicket and if anything on the internet brings you joy, I implore you to seek it out rather than reading any further, be it flash cartoons of frogs in blenders or compilation videos of cats being startled by things—anything would be better for your peace of mind than the words which will follow this stern and very serious preamble—a word which here means, a speech to precede and manage expectations for another speech.

If you are in fact someone who chooses to ignore that ominous preamble, I can only imagine that it’s out of the promise of schadenfreude, which is a German word, used to describe the feeling of pleasure at the misfortune of others—in which case, you may find this account to be the most satisfying experience you’ve yet found, since you first watched The Faces of Death on a bootlegged YouTube video. Because make no mistake, only misfortune awaits the Baudelaire Orphans at Prufrock Prep.

Like many tales of unspeakable and disgusting perversions of justice, that occur on school campuses, this one too begins under the bleachers.


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At the edge of the sports field, which is just a patch of bare dirt with chalk lines painted on it, rusty and splintering bleachers. Through the boards, white smoke billows out betraying the presence of others underneath. Below the boards, Count Olaf held a lit match to someone’s discarded cigarette butt, sucking at the last burning remnants of tobacco.

“Oh, Prufrock—my alma mater, just as I remember it—and just as before, I’m relegated to this veritable exile from my peers because of unfair and unwarranted persecution, for no reason other than my singular and apparent good looks,” Count Olaf was pontificating to his motley crew of associates.

“So good looking,” agreed one of the elderly, pale-faced, identical twins, her sister providing the echo, “such a dashing physique!”

“The gender binary creates such a hostile environment for young people in the process of discovering themselves—high school in particular exacerbates these already present tensions in the minds of teenagers, experiencing their own sexual identities for the first time,” the henchperson of indeterminate gender chimed in, clearly projecting some of their own struggles with high school onto the present situation.

“At least I can still find cigarette butts down here to smoke,” Count Olaf sighed through a lungful of smoke, “now I just need to find a way in, circumventing that infernal, high-tech, computer gizmo.”

Not Count Olaf!

As if on cue, the high-tech computer, placed outside the main entrances to Prufrock Preparatory Academy with the intention of keeping out the wanted outlaw, Count Olaf. The computer was signaling the arrival of another onto the chalk-lined patch of dust, generously called a field. Her approach was heralded by the sound of her tap shoes, that she apparently wore at all times.

Carmelita Spats wore a wide, pink, poofy skirt and her red hair curled into bouncy ringlets that framed her adorable, freckled face. Around her neck, she wore an elaborate necklace of costume rubies and rhinestones. She taps her way over to the worn bleachers and hops onto one of the planks with tapping toes and heels.

“Get the lead out of it, you lousy cake sniffers!” Carmelita shouted at the practicing cheer squad, “how else are we gonna let those other schools know that you can’t beat a dead horse! Get those kicks higher!”

250

“Well now, here is a delightful young lady,” Count Olaf leered from between the boards of the bleachers, “nice broach you got there, cutie-pie.”

“What will you give me for it, Old Man?”

“Old man? I’ll have you know that I’m a distinguished alumni of Prufrock Prep.”

“Oh! An alumni,” Carmelita jolted, the saccharine sweetness returning to her voice, making her sound younger than her eighteen years, it was a tone she affected when dealing with authority figures, “that must mean you’re somebody important, huh? Like a big deal?”

“No… alumni means—I mean, yes! I am a very big deal and I need that broach you’re wearing.”

“What’ll you give me, Mr. Big Deal?”

“How about a job?” Olaf countered, the sinister rattle of bass settling into his chest, a tone he affected when trying to intimidate people much younger than him.

*-*-*

A-Series-of-Unfortunate-Events-Netflix.jpg

In the main hall of Prufrock Prep, the Baudelaire Orphans wait outside of the Vice Principal’s office, trying hard to ignore the torturous squeals coming from within, like someone torturing a very high-strung cat.

“It seems like we’ve been waiting an interminably long time, Violet,” Klaus, already dressed in his burgundy and grey school uniform, whispered to his older sister who had recently turned 18, “do you think that Vice Principal Nero forgot he was supposed to see us?”

Perhaps you’re thinking that since Violet has come of age, in the legal sense, that she ought to have inherited her parents fortune and be long rid of boarding schools, unfit guardians and Count Olaf—you might think this, but you’d be wrong.

In fact, her parents added a stipulation that required that Violet finish her undergraduate studies and be enrolled in college before she and Klaus were granted access to the money, a stipulation that Mr. Poe, the banker was quite fastidious about enforcing. It is because of this stipulation, though well intentioned by their late parents, that thrust them once again into danger. How could the late Baudelaire parents have foreseen the dogged determination of their long-time adversary, or the fiendish plot he would concoct to make Violet and by extension her inheritance his.
 
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30 minutes earlier....

Violet

Violet wasn’t quite certain how to answer Klaus. They had been waiting for quite some time, much longer than should’ve been allowed. However, she was the strength of both her little brother and little sister. It was also incredibly ridiculous for them to not have received their fortune (which was rightfully theirs since she was now of age) and it sometimes made her Violet wonder was Mr.Poe really in their corner. School was important though and it would be nice to finally do something she enjoyed and was good at, learning.

“We just have to be patient. After all, maybe we’ve gotten lucky and for once Count Olaf hasn’t found us.”

At the look of disdain from Klaus, she sighed. Maybe Violet was being overly optimistic. They’d done their best to hide from Count Olaf but he always managed to find them. The crazy part was that when he did, he was always in those stupid costumes that weren’t even costumes yet no one could decipher it was Count Olaf until the tattoo on his ankle was revealed or that he only had one eye brow.

“But what if he DOES find us? “

It was clear by the look on Klaus’ face he was getting tired and quite frankly, so was she but they had Sunny and no parents to keep them safe, not even Mr. Poe could keep them safe. All of this running had been a constant reminder of that. In reality they were the only ones able to do so for Sunny.

“Then we’ll do what we always do.” Violet let her statement die there but Klaus seemed to have more questions as he opened his mouth to speak, a loud tapping sound filled the room.

“There you are!” A loud obnoxious voice said. It belonged to the short red headed girl as she pasted on a smile.

“Guess you two cake sniffers are lucky, you got me as your Guidey guider person to show you around the school. But first an introduction song,

Welcome to prufock prep
Where everyone knows that I’m really cool and everyone else sucks and can kiss my butt but not literally cuz they aren’t good enough...
AND MY NAME IS CARMELITA!”

Violet looked over at Klaus who cringed while Sunny covered her ears.

“I think you mean...tour guide?” Violet said purposely interrupting her song.

“What?” Carmelita snapped as she froze in the middle of her half turn, the flat of her left foot resting on the side of her right knee. She held her hands out to balance, which didn’t seem like it was going to last long.

“You said you were our guidey guider thing, but I believe it’s safe to assume you meant tour guide, which means a person put in the position to show others who are unfamiliar with their surroundings—“

It didn’t last long because Carmelita fell over and screamed. “No one cares about your idiot brains, cake sniffers!”

Carmelita stood up and glared,”Let’s get this fucking thing over with.” It seemed like Carmelita’s charm was wearing off or never there to begin with. Carmelita quickly rushed through the school pointing what was what, the classrooms, the cafeteria, the football field, auditorium, where she scraped her knee last week and all the guys of the football field took care of her(because somehow that was important?).

“And this is where ....I actually don’t know what this place is...” Carmelita said,”a liberation? A liberalism? ... meh it’s not important. Let’s go!”

Sunny cooed something to Violet and she smiled, “Right, it’s a library Sunny. Good job!”

“No one CARES...I SAID LETS GO!”

Violet snorted and rolled her eyes before giving Klaus a look. They’d probably end up visiting the library soon.

“And now, here’s the principals office.” Carmelita said,”which means I’m done with you boring idiots and can go to cheer practice. Oh yeah, you’re late but it’s not my fault because everyone loves me and will probably haaate you. After all, orphans are unlovable, that’s why they’re orphans.” She knocked on the door and cleared her throat her voice going back to the girlishly cute tone,”Oh principal Nero, the new orphans are here and they’re late! I told them not to be and that we could tour the school after you’re meeting but they threatened to steal my tap shoes!”

Carmelita stomped and turned as the door opened,”Have fun cake sniffing losers.” Then off she skipped.

~present time~

Carmelita

“And what’ll you give me Mr. Big deal?” Carmelita purred at the mysterious stranger. He said he was important so there was no way in hell she was going to act like her usual diva self besides he clearly knew what beauty was...and the broach was nice too.

Earlier she’d met the new orphans and for a minute she’d been threatened by how pretty Violet was, and then she spoke. She was a nerd which made her even less hot than she already was.

“Oooh like a very very important job that I can smash into cake sniffers face whenever I want?”

That would be totally awesome, after all she was the best and this would probably be another way of showing how much better she was than everyone on this stupid campus.
 
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Count Olaf wasn’t quite sure what a “cake sniffer” was, nor was he certain the vernacular from which the phrase originated, or to what it originally referred—but he was certain that he understood the spirit of it.

“Yes—yes! That’s precisely the kind of job that I have for you, one that makes you a leader among your peers, with awe inspiring and irreproachable power that even a vice principal wouldn’t dare to question—yes!” Count Olaf had begun speaking with his hands in exaggerated and theatrical gestures, as he was prone to doing when he was on a roll, “for the purposes of my very important alumni endeavors, I shall be forced to go en cognito—but you, dear child, will be the very arm of my reckoning, the right hand of an unseen and all-powerful God—my Liaison of Incoming Alumni Requests. Yes, my little L.I.A.R.”

“Look, buddy. I like what you’re pitchin’ and everything, but don’t get it mixed up. I like boys. I ain’t no liaison, got it?”

“Boys…?” Olaf sneered, briefly perplexed, “no, I mean—nevermind. You’ll be the Chief Officer in Charge of Orphan Affairs… C.O.C.O.A.—it still works, not as good, but whatever. Yes, you’re the new Chief Officer in Charge of Orphan Affairs. But first, we’ve got to go over a few details, perhaps in your very lavish dormitory room, with its huge living room and ornate cage full of tropical birds that can land on your finger and learn your name.”

“What kinda details?”

“Does it matter? Paperwork, let’s say. A list of special privileges? Why not.”

“Well, I’m not supposed to have visitors in my very special, single occupancy dorm room, but since you’re a very important Almond Joy, I’ll make an exception.” Carmelita agreed, while still giving some serious side-eye to Olaf’s henchpeople, “and you’ll need to all wipe your feet before you come in.”

“Naturally,” Olaf smirked, leading his procession of cohorts from the Athletics Field toward the dormitories, “we’re scholars, after all, not some rogue band of theatrical criminals in hiding from the law, seeking a base of operations from which to plot a way to take down orphans and steal their fortune.”

*-*-*​

Vice Principal Nero’s door swung out violently, slamming against the wall as he emerged from within, still sloppily cradling his violin in one hand and a bow in the other, with more broken hairs than whole horse hairs that spanned the full length of the instrument.

“Late! The audacity of these—Orphans, interrupting a genius at work and late as well! Audacity!” Nero was shouting into the hall, nearly bald in the front, his hair was standing straight up at the back, as if fleeing from his equally straight-up eyebrows, “better not make a habit of being late, otherwise you’ll be bent over a table, squealing like a pig! Come in, Orphans—don’t just stand there, wasting my precious rehearsal time—I’m a genius, you know!”

“We’re very sorry for being late, Mr. Nero. No one told us that there was a specific time that you—” Klaus began before being interrupted by Vice Principal Nero slamming the door again and making a high-pitched, nasal mockery of Klaus’ apology.

Nagh, nagh, nagh—nobody told me or scolded me because both of my parents are dead, nag-nag-nag!” Nero twisted his face up and crossed his eyes, making his already ridiculous countenance even more bizarre, his hands were high on his hips with his elbows crooked back and tucked behind his back, “that’s what you sound like. I swear, I have students with two living parents who aren’t half as much trouble as you Orphans have been already. I knew that a child’s job was to be seen and not heard when I was your age.”

“But we’re all different ages.” Klaus objected.

Nagh, nagh nagh—I can tell when numbers are different, you see how ridiculous that sounds?” Nero mocked again and dismissed, “speaking of which, I mentioned to Mr. Poe that we could house a baby, but as I’m sure you’re aware there isn’t a grade for babies. Sunny there will have to earn her keep as an Executive Assistant in my office while you’re here.”

“Sunny’s really smart for her age, isn’t there some class that she—” Klaus tried, clearly not used to the dynamic they had established so far.

La-dee-laddi-da-dee!,” Vice Principal Nero’s mockery was getting increasingly lazy, “here at Prufrock Preparatory Academy, we have deluxe dormitories, state-of-the-art, highest quality domiciles. The lavish living-quarters even boast ornate cages full of tropical birds that can land on your finger and learn your name.”

“That sounds terrific!” Klaus blurted out, taking the offered pamphlet excitedly like the gullible little punk that he was, “the nicest place we’ve stayed since the fire!”

“Oh but you Orphans won’t be staying there—oh no. The dorms require the signature of at least one living, still-alive and not burned up so bad that they leave no remains parent or guardian—and between the three of you Orphans, you have not a single living one such person, so you’ll be moving into a four-by-four tin shack made of corrugated sheets and wooden palates. It has crabs.”

Vice Principal Nero handed Klaus a different pamphlet, this one titled “ORPHAN SHACK.”

“This is not a good base of operations…”

*-*-*​

A base of operations is a phrase meaning, a safe place where one can relax and let their mind ruminate on solutions for their problems and plans of action to advance their cause. Though it may not be an actual military base, lots of places can make for wonderful bases of operations: a studio apartment sharing a wall with an Optometrist, a hidden mountain chalet and library, a tree house or even an exceptionally engineered pillow fort can all serve as terrific bases of operations—but a tin shack, baking in the sun and infested with crabs is a terrible base of operations by any standard.

Meanwhile, Count Olaf’s early alliance with Carmelita afforded him access to her luxurious accommodations, where he was finishing setting up what looked like a full Optometry practice in the middle of the living room.


“Hey Boss, check it out! It landed on my hook!” Olaf’s henchman who had been sent into the ornate cage to hang lights exclaimed.

“Stay focused, you buffoon, we’re almost done,” Olaf called over his shoulder before summoning Carmelita to the oversized armchair at the center of all the equipment, “do you know the best part about watching your ex-girlfriend burn up in a furnace is? It’s not the smell, as I thought it would be—no, the best part is that you get to keep her brainwashing gizmo and use it on naïve and defenseless undergrads. Take a seat.”
 
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Violet

”Nagh, nagh, nagh—nobody told me or scolded me because both of my parents are dead, nag-nag-nag!”

“With all due respect Vice Principal Nero, that was very uncalled for. I apologize for our tardiness but Carmelita—“

But he didn’t seem to be listening. They NEVER listened. It was like every place they’d been sent had blinders on or had an unusual dislike for orphans. Vice Principal Nero went on to ramble about how useless they were and that since Sunny technically wasn’t allowed there because of how young she was she’d have to work as his...secretary?

Klaus objected but it didn’t seem to work.

“I don’t even think it’s legal for a toddler to work as a secretary, Vice Principal Nero.”

Again, her sentence fell on deaf ears if anything, Sunny was by far way more mature than Nero.

“What about Count Olaf? He always seems to find us. Who is to say he won’t do so now?” Violet asked.

“I’m so glad you asked...actually not really but I expectilated that question.”

“That’s not a word...” Klaus and Violet said in unison.

“BE QUIET, I am talking...” it was almost like a mix between a whine and yell. It was not the pleasant sound. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the computers outside.” He pulled a blanket off the box like object. “It can easily detect whether a person is Count Olaf.”

“I highly doubt that.” Klaus said.

Vice Principal Nero gave a heavy sigh and turned it on before stepping in front of it. It did a scan of him and then said in high volume,”NOT COUNT OLAF.”

It seemed convincing, maybe. After all, Count Olaf had terrible disguises that seemed to trick even the most intelligent of their guardians.

“Now, if we are finished. I have another appointment and this has taken too long as it is. You stupid orphans ask way too many questions.”

How could one situation go from worse to bad? It really was a conundrum but, she was optimistic still because Count Olaf wasn’t there so even if they had to deal with an odd Vice Principal (though she did wonder what happened to the actual principal), and an “orphan shack” which was an interesting term because it just looked like an old shed with crabs.

And that was the attitude she went in the old shed with as Klaus immediately began to complain. It was rather obvious that he was losing hope. He was becoming exhausted by the running and their unfortunate luck. It was written all over his face.

“—I mean what makes us any different than any other kid that goes here. How can we be looked at as normal if we are forced to live in a fucking shack instead of the ‘luxurious deluxe dormitories, state of the art with birds that can learn your names...’

“Klaus—language...” Violet gave a sideways glance at the toddler who just spoke more gibberish.

‘I’ve heard worse, remember we lived with Count Olaf.’ Was the translation.

“Right. Still, we have to stay positive. We aren’t with Count Olaf and so far he hasn’t found us.” She tapped her chin as she looked around the Orphan Shack. Crabs crawled around causing Sunny to lift her hands to be picked up. Klaus did just that as Violet put out her yellow thinking ribbon. She closed her eyes as she began to think, a slow smile crossed her features.

“I’ve got it!”

“Got what?” Klaus looked confused.

“We are going to make this the best orphan shack ever or at least livable.”
~~
Carmelita

This guy was really weird, but he was important and now that he knew she wasn't into women, he decided to call her by her favorite flavor of ca-- drink. Hot Cocoa was delicious was why it was so perfect to call her that. Forget all those other stupid long words that he used chief of police thingy dumbstuff.

She glared at his weirdo friends as they all started walking into her dorm.They were all dirty and nasty looking.....AND TOUCHING HER STUFF.

"Hey losers! Hands off the merchandise. You're all dirty and certainly not important enough to be touching ANYTHING. ESPECIALLY YOU YA HOOK BOY FREAK!"

She skipped over to the illuminati and peeked over his shoulder.

"Brainwashing gizmo? What does that dooo?" She asked in her cutesy voice.
 
Count Olaf made a face when Carmelita snapped at his henchman, he’d need to snuff out that little obstinate streak in her, only he was allowed to berate his henchmen and only when they deserved it. He resolved right then exactly what he wanted from this perky little copper-top, she’d be his accomplice first and foremost, but also… something else.

“Well, have a seat right here, my darling child. I’ll show you exactly what it does,” Count Olaf grabbed Carmelita by her poofy, pink shoulder poofs and guided her into the large, metal chair, strapping her ankles, wrists and forehead into place with build-in restraints, “don’t worry, this is all standard. Now just relax, this is standard as well.”

A large, metal device was swung around on a long, adjustable metal arm, like a half-mask of two, circular lenses, each ringed with lights. Other lenses and colored inserts surrounded the primary mask and both edges were lined with tabs and levers for switching quickly between lenses and inserts.

“Now, let’s see if I remember how to do this,” Count Olaf muttered, wheeling a big screen, connected to exposed tubes and funnels, the picture in full color, but flickering slightly, “is this an A or an E? An E or a C? A sea or a large lake? Reptile or amphibian? Natural blonde or bottle blonde? An opportunity or a threat? A grown man’s cock or a bowl of ice cream with sprinkles?”

While Olaf fired off rapid fire questions, the screen flashed between different images, from letters to swamp monsters, maps and a dick pick from a bad actor. At the same time, Olaf clicked the switches on the sides of the optometric goggles and the henchman with no hands used his hook to open and close the shutter on the spotlight that was backlighting the screen. At last, the screen changed to a white pinwheel spinning in a circle on a black background.

“Now, you’re nearly perfect Carmelita, but from now on you will do whatever I or any of my henchpeople tell you and you will never speak to an adult again the way you just spoke to my henchman with no hands—”

“Aw, boss. That’s so nice!”

“Quiet, moron! I’m implanting hypnotic suggestions! Instead of speaking rudely to adults, you’ll be compelled to bully orphans, specifically and in particular. It will give you even greater pleasure than before to torment and humiliate orphans… and speaking of pleasure…” Olaf’s voice dropped in a sinister baritone, “you will feel the desperate and constant urge to suck the cocks of adult men. You will become a blowjob princess for the faculty, to have your throat penetrated by a cock will bring you toe-curling, mind-bending orgasms. Cum will be the sweetest and most beautiful taste you’ve ever had in your mouth. You’ll hunger for as much, delicious cum as you can get. You’ll want to gargle it, bathe in it, drown in it forever. You will feel this urge even more intensely when you hear the word adorable and will only emerge from this subconscious conditioning when you hear Squalor. You’ll wake back up in 3, 2, 1…”

*-*-*

duncan-and-isadora.png

“You won’t have to renovate the shack on your own, Baudelaires. We’re here to help,” Duncan Quagmire smiled as he opened the door to the shack, followed closely by his sister.

“Don’t be afraid and don’t distress, the Quagmires are here to help clean up this mess,” Isadora chimed in, stepping inside, careful of the crabs scuttling between the floorboards.

“That was a couplet, like the end of a Shakespearian sonnet,” Klaus beamed, suddenly awestruck by the beauty of Isadora, who was also eighteen, “you seem to know us, but I’m sorry, I don’t remember meeting you two before.”

“We’re the surviving Quagmire triplets, I’m Duncan and this is my sister Isadora. Our brother Quiggly died in the same fire as our parents. We used to live here… we don’t have parents to sign the permission slips. But now that you’re here, we’re getting upgraded.”

“To a broom closet,” Isadora clarified.

“We came by to get our things, but we’d be glad to help you in any way that we can,” Duncan said, looking at his shoes and blushing before looking back up to look Violet in the eyes, “because that’s what friends are for.”

Duncan quickly looked away again and went silent.

“What’s your plan, Violet?” Isadora asked.

*-*-*​

“Now then, you adorable little accomplice,” Count Olaf smirked, unbuckling his belt and exposing his cock, pale, long and exceptionally veiny, “I’ve got a special adorable, treat for adorable you and your adorable little throat. Do you want to come over her now and put your throat on this cock? Make those red ringlets bounce on my lap. Hooks! Get your attachments!”

On cue, the henchman with no hands used his teeth to unclasp his metal hooks. He replaced them with other attachments, one a wide-headed vibrating massager, often known as a Hitachi wand, the other had a rig that resembled a power saw, except that instead of a saw blade it had a huge, silicone dildo attached to the end. He took up position behind Carmelita.

“Ready, boss!” the henchman shouted, one of his hands buzzing while the other one churned up and down and a furious, power-tool pace, demonstrating that both devices were ready to go.

“Yes, that’s a good, adorable little adorable girl. Take that cock deep in your tiny little eighteen year old throat.”
 
Carmelita
Carmelita’s eyes widened as mister important gave her such stern stern orders. Now naturally, she wouldn’t obey because a girl with such an adorable sense of being didn’t have to listen to anyone; but there was something really hypnotic about his voice specially when it hit that low what’s the word.. oh right, barrel tone.

Once mister important stopped talking she felt this sudden need to go pester some orphans, ESPECIALLY the new ones. Those quackmire cake sniffers were sooo boring.

“Now then, you adorable little accomplice,”

Because of course she was adorable and a ...whatever else he said. She looked up at him adorably while twisting and turning in a child like manner.

“I’ve got a special adorable, treat for adorable you and your adorable little throat. Do you want to come over her now and put your throat on this cock? Make those red ringlets bounce on my lap. Hooks! Get your attachments!”

Carmelita squealed with excitement and quickly got to work getting on her knees and pulling his cock into her mouth. Jeezz he tasted like the best piece of cake no- no even better than any cake she’d ever ‘not sniffed and definitely did not smash her face in from time to time’ which only made her want to take more down her throat.
~~
Violet

So they weren’t the only orphans there which now sort of explained why there was an orphan shack. Sort of. Violet shook her head forcing herself to focus on the task at hand.

“Hello Isadora, Duncan it’s a pleasure to meet you. Right my idea, so I really just want to make this place more livable, if we are forced to live here that would be the best idea.”

They all four looked around the moldy shack with disgust.

“We need buckets and lots and lots of soap, like copious amounts of it. Also the crabs seemed to be scared of lights so if we can find some hanging lights.” Violet concluded.

“I know where some hanging lights are from the Christmas concert we had 3 months ago.” Isadora exclaimed.

“3 months ago? But wouldn’t that have made it February.” Klaus asked

“Nero hadn’t finished composing his “finest Christmas works” until then....” Isadora said.


“That will work.” Violet said after giving a side glance at Duncan who seemed to be incredibly shy. He kept looking at her then looking away which was incredibly cute.

~~

Carmelita

And she did take more down her throat. There was no way she’d fail at this. She was a perfect adorable blow job princess after all. She felt something vibrating against her causing her to moan around mister importants thick veiny cock. Her hair red curls did indeed bounce as she sucked him off.

She felt the tickle more specifically on her clit. More, goodness, she wanted more with each time mister important called her adorable. She wanted to drench herself in his cum because that seemed like a cute thing to do, it would be like when ducks swam around in money.
 
Klaus’ eyes lit up at the mention of an upgrade, that their misery might be temporary if a different set of orphans arrived, but his hopes quickly fell when Isadora clarified that they were upgrading to a broom closet. It was a terrible revelation that someone so beautiful could deliver such ugly news. This school was not what he’d been expecting—but as usual, Violet knew exactly what to do in a miserable situation.

“We could acquire these items faster if we split up. Maybe…” Klaus looked over to Isadora, momentarily struck mute by the clarity of her wide, blue eyes, “maybe we could go together, Isadora. It’s been a long while since I’ve had someone literate other than my siblings to talk to.”

“I know where those lights are,” Duncan chimed in, looking over at Violet, but then looking away again when they made eye contact.

“Sure, and the broom closet has buckets, as well as mops and rags… and uncovered containers of bleach… highly flammable chemicals…” Isadora trailed off, having mixed feelings about renovating the shack that they were moving out of, but she was excited about the idea of getting to know Klaus better, “I’ll bring our things with me, come on Klaus.”

Isadora smiled and Klaus forgot that he had legs for a moment.

“Yes, let’s,” Klaus practically floated out of the orphan shack, once Isadora had grabbed her and Duncan’s uniforms and PE clothes, their only possessions other than a picture of their parents standing in front of a lumber mill, “Hey! I know that picture!”

Klaus extracted an identical photograph, folded in quarters from his uniform jacket. It was identical to Isadora’s photo in every way, except that the middle spot where Klaus and Violet’s parents were had been worn away from mournful touching.

“Our parents knew each other,” Duncan announced, looking Violet square in her intelligent, blue eyes and holding eye contact for the first time, “maybe they wanted us to meet if anything happened to them.”

“That picture is the only thing we have left of them, that and this half of a spyglass…” Klaus began, but he and Isadora spoke in unison, ”in the ashes of our home…”

Both Klaus and Isadora pulled out their spyglass, the two halves clicked together, like magnetically drawn, Klaus’ male half fitting perfectly into Isadora’s female half with a satisfying click.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” Duncan said, still holding eye contact with Violet.

“Pplrrabble-bubo.” Sunny said, which meant, Well, this is awkward.

*-*-*​

“Oh my holy, adorable hell!” Count Olaf shouted as the crown of his cock head passed the tight, wet ring of Carmelita’s throat, his hand supportively on the back of her head, neither pushing or pulling, just encouraging, “that’s a good little throat whore. Use the tongue—there you go, yes, more tongue! Costumers, let’s build a disguise.”

At last, Count Olaf was feeling like himself, confident and virile—with his hard cock buried down the throat of a teenager. His bald henchman, who was easily seven feet tall, wrapped a long cloth around his head into a Sikh turban, which the henchman of indeterminate gender distractedly adorned with Carmelita’s broach.

The henchman with hooks for hands was enjoying teasing Carmelita’s tight little pussy with the vibrating hand attachment, but he’d encountered an obstacle between him and power-saw-fucking her with the silicone dildo, flopping around on his other stump. Without his hooks, the henchman didn’t know how to remove her panties, but as his vibrator attachment continued to work on her clit and she moaned around the boss’ dick, he made a decision and launched himself face first into the frilly undergarments of her skirt.

At first, the henchman with sex toys for hands was licking and biting blindly, a few times his teeth found the round, firm flesh of Carmelita’s booty. But after a few errant bites and a long lick or two, his teeth found the hem of her frilly panties and with a determined growl he successfully dragged them down her slender thighs until he got an eyeful of pink, weeping pussy.

“Found it, boss!” the henchman announced, still buried to his shoulders in pink, frilly fabric, “I found the pussy!”

“Go on then!” Olaf ordered, letting the twin henchmen with powdered faces do his makeup from both sides, heavy on the eyeliner, “reward this good, adorable little slut with the mind-bending orgasm of her young life.”

Olaf’s costume was nearly complete, though he remained naked from the waist down, allowing Carmelita to continue her generous ministrations. As Olaf began pushing on the back of her head for the first time, fucking the back of her throat with his impressive erection. Just then, the henchman with toys for hands lined up the pink, silicone dildo with Carmelita’s wet pussy and slid the head inside of her, baring down with the vibrator against her bare clit, increasing the intensity of the vibrations. It was then that he turned over the electric motor in his power-tool hand and the dildo began furiously sliding back and forth.

Whackata-whackata-whackata-whackata-whackata!!!

The power tool made a loud, repetitive hammering sound as the electric motor thrust the dildo in and out of Carmelita’s tight, but receptive pussy over and over again, thrusting full bore inside of her fifteen times in three seconds.

“That’s it! Yes! Oh yes! Use your tongue! You’re almost there,” Count Olaf encouraged Carmelita as she was fucked by two devices at once, his henchman still under her frilly skirts, tongue fucking her little ass, “don’t forget the balls, a good, adorable girl always sucks and licks balls. There you go… fuck my cock looks so huge laying across your adorable little face.”

*-*-*​

Back at the broom closet, Klaus helped Isadora to rearrange things enough that she and her brother had enough room to both lay down and helped her to hang up their things. They gathered buckets, soap and rags—whatever they thought Violet might need.

“Maybe it’s not so terrible that we came to school here,” Klaus smiled, setting the soap and rags in the stacked buckets, “we haven’t had much luck with guardians up to now, but you and your brother are the first real friends we’ve met.”

“Just wait, it gets worse,” Isadora huffed, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “but I am glad to have met you Baudelaires too. Thanks for all your help.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Klaus smiled, feeling both nervous and comfortable around Isadora, “say, you’re a poet, right? Is this school named after—”

“The Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by—” Isadora interrupted before they finished in unison again, “T.S. Eliot? I asked Mr. Nero and Mrs. Bass about it, neither of them have heard of T.S. Eliot.”

“How is that possible?”

Lots of things in life seem impossible, like a family of three sharing a four-by-four shack, or two siblings living in a broom closet, or a high school teacher and vice principal not knowing the famous American poet T.S. Eliot—but of all the impossible seeming things that eventually turn out to be true, none is so difficult to imagine, so unfathomable to the uninitiated as love. True love seems impossible in the face of dire circumstances, but when it’s true, there’s nothing that love can’t conquer.

Just then, while Klaus was making that face he makes when trying to understand the sheer awfulness of their situation, pondering how so-called educators could be so ignorant, wondering what they would study if not classical literature, Isadora stood up on her tiptoes, laid a gentle hand on Klaus’ chest and gave him a gentle, but deliberate kiss on the lips.

True love can conquer anything… I still believe that, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary.
 
Carmelita

Adorable adorable adorable...

It translated in her mind more and more delicious vanilla ........icing? No, that was stupid only cake sniffers thought like that. But then she did think his cum tasted like the sweetest cum. Carmelita vaguely heard anything Mister important was saying to his now sex toy handed friend but felt her panties being tugged at as she continued her ministrations on the cock in front of her.

Mister important seemed to be really enjoying what she did with him and Carmelita had plenty of practice with the football team. Did they still have one of those?

Did they EVER have one of those?

She began whimpering as sex toy boys teeth grazed over the flesh of her cunt, her moans vibrating against mister importants cock as the vibrator slipped inside her cunt.

Sooo much was happening that Carmelita could barely keep up with it all.

~
Isadora

She couldn’t help herself, Klaus was just incredibly cute. She’d never met anyone her age who could differentiate Of course she pulled back quickly blushing as she stepped back.

“I’m sorry I just couldn’t help myself...I...” her cheeks burned a bright red.

What were they supposed to be doing?

Oh! Right the buckets to clean the mold. “There’s some disinfectant around here, somewhere.” Isadora pulled out the buckets and handed one to Klaus who seemed to still be in a daze from the kiss.

“Do you think my brother was right? That our parents wanted us to meet somehow so purposely left behind clues in hopes that something like this would happen?”

~
Violet

They’d left her alone with Duncan which wasn’t a bad thing necessarily. He just confused her. It had been awhile since she’d been around a guy her own age other than Klaus. She found Duncan to be endearing, sweet even. He’d even managed to hold eye contact for at least a minute before looking back down to the ground.

There was hope!

Of course, they couldn’t just leave Sunny alone and in the dark with the crabs and mold.

She reached for Sunny’s tiny hand. “So Duncan, you said you know where the lights are? Lead the way and we’ll follow, right Sunny?”

All three walked out of the shack and for a moment there was silence as Violet and her little sister followed the path that Duncan was taking.

“Blefer dorf.” Sunny cooed as she tugged on Violets hand causing the girl to blush because Sunny’s gibberish translated to ‘Say something.’

“Sooo it’s pretty cool that our parents knew each other, huh? What do you think it means?”

Sunny made another gibberish sound which meant and in a very sarcastic manner, ‘Very smooth. ‘

~

Carmelita

“don’t forget the balls, a good, adorable girl always sucks and licks balls. There you go… fuck my cock looks so huge laying across your adorable little face.”

Her body trembled as sex toy dude tongue fucked her and usually she didn’t get so horny sucking cock because the attention seemed to be on the guy instead of her and her own cute body but something about this whole situation made her hotter and hotter.

She ground her pussy against sex toy boys wonderful new gadgets as his tongue filled her butthole.

While all this was happening, she’d managed to fit mister importants balls in her mouth sucking them like she’d suck icing off cake pops. He seemed to be enjoying that too!

She was getting closer to cumming, she could feel it.
 
Klaus

For a long moment, Klaus’ eyes remained closed, though he didn’t really remember closing them. He drew a long breath in after almost three minutes of not realizing that he was holding it before. The whole world seemed to undulate around him as Klaus stood totally still, his eyes closed but seeing the world more clearly than he ever had before. Klaus was experiencing the best part of growing up that he had heretofore ever encountered.

Klaus had a crush on a girl.

It seemed so simple but in this moment it was absolutely everything—everything! Isadora began to say something about being unable to help herself, when she trailed off Klaus filled the silence with his first exhale which took the form of a word without his permission.

Awesome!” Klaus sighed heavily, opening his eyes again to Isadora’s absolutely perfect blues looking at him, he felt the need to explain himself, somehow, “it’s a word that means inspiring awe.”

“I know what ‘awesome’ means,” Isadora smiled, before swiftly changing the subject, “ there’s some disinfectant around here, somewhere.”

“Is this it, here?” Klaus asked, lifting up an uncovered pail of foul smelling liquid that seemed to have disinfectant properties, based on the strong smell.

Isadora handed most of the cleaning supplies over to Klaus before changing the subject again and locking up her shared broom closet, “do you think my brother was right? That our parents wanted us to meet somehow so purposely left behind clues in hopes that something like this would happen?”

“I can’t even guess about what my parents intended, I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface of what they knew, what they intended is beyond me. I know this much, though. It’s not a coincidence that both of our parents wanted us to go here if anything happened to them,” Klaus took Isadora’s hands in his own, holding the handles of the buckets filled with supplies on his forearms, “it’s no coincidence that… it’s no coincidence that you were my first kiss.”

Klaus looked into the impossible, blue abyss of Isadora’s eyes for a pregnant moment before looking away and blushing. They shifted their load of buckets and supplies so that they could hold hands on the walk back to the Orphan Shack.

*-*-*​

Duncan

It wasn’t clear to Duncan what Violet’s baby sister was saying while she was carried toward the auditorium where the belated Christmas lights were still hanging, but he was overwhelmed with a sense of wanting to earn her approval and/or affection—he wasn’t sure what to call this feeling, but he had little doubt that Violet or his sister would know, if prompted. It was a wonder that any girls ever gave boys any time or attention at all.

“I don’t really know what it means about our parents, but I know that it wasn’t a coincidence,” Duncan remarked over his shoulder, quickly climbing onto the stage and beginning to pull down the lights that he’d described earlier, eager to prove his virility by doing most of the work himself, “you saw how those pieces fit together to form a spyglass, that was no coincidence…”

Duncan made short work of gathering the lights and jumped off the stage, letting his shoes land loudly on the hardwood floor under the gymnasium stage. He was careful to gather the string of red lights in orderly loops to avoid tangling the lines.

“Regardless of what our parents intended, I’m glad to have met you. I’m sure that Isadora is too,” Duncan smiled before tugging the last bundle of lights from its place above the stage where it was mounted, when the end of the string finally came free, Duncan stumbled backward into Violet, “oops!”

*-*-*​

Count Olaf

Whackata-whackata-whackata-whackata-whackata!!!

The wheel that controlled the oscillating “blade” which thrust the silicone facsimile of a massive cock in and out of Carmelita’s tight, inexperienced pussy. Though it was becoming increasingly clear that Count Olaf’s wasn’t the first cock she had sucked. The henchman with toys for hands pressed his face downward and pressed his vibrating Hitachi attachment toward his face as he churned his arm back and forth, forcing the dildo deeper as it hammered it’s detached, mechanical process, again and again.

“Yes, that’s it, from now on… you’ll call me Coach Ghengis—or just Coach,” Count Olaf instructed, affecting a bogus southern drawl, “I’ll be handlin’ the P.E. program and your tiny little body.”

With this, “Coach Ghengis” forced Carmelita’s head down into his lap, closing off her throat completely as he relished the clenching of her esophagus as it desperately tried to bypass the obstruction to draw air.

“Cum for me, little whore,” Ghengis instructed, his accent heavy now, totally in character, “swallow my cock as you cum on my friend’s face. If you swallow everything I’m about to give you, I’ll let you get fucked for real, in your hungry little snatch. Tell me you love to eat cum, slut.”
 
~*Isadora*~

“Are you saying our parents planned us to meet just so I could be your first kiss?” Isadora teased.

Isadora couldn’t help but giggle a little bit at Klaus’ enthusiasm. Oh yes, she definitely knew what awesome meant. This situation, for example, meeting Klaus was very awesome indeed. They made their way back towards the orphan shack and it appeared that Duncan, Violet, and Sunny hadn’t returned from retrieving the Christmas lights.

She set her bucket with the other cleaning supplies down but hadn’t released Klaus’ hand yet, she smiled calmly at Klaus because he hadn’t released hers. “Klaus, don’t you think we should start cleaning around here? The sooner we finish the sooner we can do other things together.”

While her words were purely innocent if one were to have a dirty mind, that string of sentences could shred the true meaning of her words. When he finally released her hand Isadora emptied her bucket full of bottles of cleaning solutions and filled it with water and dipped a rag in the bucket. She began scrubbing.

“So, tell me about yourself Klaus. Where did you live before you came to Prufrock Prep?”

~*Violet*~

“I can ....help.” Violet said slowly as Duncan began tugging lights down off the wall. He seemed to be trying to prove his virility. She’d read about this in a book somewhere, how lions often fought in order prove they were strong enough to be the king of jungle.

Was that what Duncan was attempting to do?

‘If he’s not careful, he’ll hurt himself.’ Sunny said in a rush of gurgles and gibberish.

Violet nodded her head in agreement and just as Sunny predicted, he stumbled bumping into her but not enough to knock Violet down. She caught him as he fell, her body slightly tingled from the quick touch.

“Be careful.” She asked,”Next time let me help okay?” She grabbed one of the boxes of lights,”Shall we head back now? I’m sure Klaus and Isadora are back now,”

~*Carmelita*~

Blah blah blah, something about a coach. Was that his name? Honestly, she didn’t really remember if mister important had introduced himself or not. It wasn’t like it mattered at the time though. Besides, for all she knew, his name really was Coach Ghengis. Though poor guy to get a loser name like Coach.

It was a good thing he still had his looks going for him.

The dildo slid deeper and deeper inside of Carmelita driving her absolutely wild, her tiny cute moans filled her lavish vip dorm room as she was forced to take more of Coach’s cock down her throat to the point of almost being unable to breath. Her throaty muscles gripped his cock and she felt a wave of dizziness.

“Cum for me, little whore. Swallow my cock as you cum on my friend’s face. If you swallow everything I’m about to give you, I’ll let you get fucked for real, in your hungry little snatch. Tell me you love to eat cum, slut.”

She made a muffled squealing sound at the idea of being fucked for realsies. The only thing she liked better than a monster dildo was a real dick. Her breathing sped up as her body began to tremble. She hadn’t realized how horny she was until tonight.

That was her last thought as she felt like she was dying and going to heaven. Her body trembled again and then suddenly tensed with pleasure while being brutally fucked by sex toys. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as her orgasm hit her head.
“Fmuuuuckkkkk!” She moaned, the Coach’s cock still assaulting her mouth,
 
“Oh—my—great groin—Gesundheit, ah am abowt to cum—like a horny bull in pony pussy,” Count Olaf—or rather, Coach Ghengis exclaimed, already 100% in character now that his costume and makeup were done, “Ho-Lee-shit, she’s cummin’ too. Let me see them eyes, you fucking whore-pie.”

When Carmelita’s body tensed up in orgasm, her lips and throat also clamped down around Ghengis’ veiny cock, strangling the first hot jet of cum out of him, directly down her throat. Before the second glut of thick cum could spurt out of him, Ghengis pulled the crown of his cockhead past her screaming throat with a pop and flooded her mouth with cum in less than a second. Reaching down, Coach Ghengis used his thumb and pinky to press down on Carmelita’s eyelids, forcing her eyes open so that he could look down at the pure, milky whites of her eyes while her irises and pupils searched the back of her skull for room to process the pleasure of hypnosis-augmented orgasm.

Coach Ghengis pointed his cock like a weapon as the third rope of thick, white cum splattered across her face, from her full mouth across her pretty face, even into her left eye. She looked even better with her face blasted in cum, splashing even into the crimson ringlets of her hair. It had been a while, so another glut of cum splattered onto Carmelita’s freckled forehead, decorating her from hair to chin in his thick cum.

“My—sweet—lawrd, that is a beautiful throat.”

“Is it my turn boss?” the henchman with sex-toys for hands popped up from Carmelita’s pink underskirts like one of the moles in a whack-a-mole game.

“You can take her ay-uss,” Coach Ghengis advised, “hey baldy! Bring your big, bad, bitch-breaker over here and pound some puss.”

”You got it boss!” The seven-foot, bald behemoth answered, lowering his pants to reveal a foot-long cock that was easily bigger than Carmelita’s slender forearm, ”bitch-breaker, coming up!”

“Guys… I’m really uncomfortable with this plan…” the henchman of indeterminate gender objected, but nobody paid them much mind.

*-*-*​

A double entendre is a word or phrase that can be interpreted to mean two or more things, depending on the circumstances and context. When Isadora said she wanted to “…do other things together.” she probably meant something like ‘discuss the potential that our parents led us to this austere academy in the hopes that we’d be able to help each other.’ But Klaus Baudelaire was a pubescent teenager, so when he heard her say ”…do other things together.” He heard a distinct double entendre, that past just the first meaning, implied sex.

Klaus turned beet red at Isadora’s unintentional double entendre. He knew what she meant—or at least, what she didn’t mean—she wasn’t that type of girl, he barely knew her, but he knew that much, at least. Isadora’s moral character was impeccable and she was pure as driven snow. Klaus knew these things with absolute certainty, since she had been his first kiss and it was unimaginable that her character should be anything else.

He hadn’t really even gotten the chance to process everything that had happened up to this point, his first kiss, holding hands… If cleaning got Klaus any closer to doing “other things” with Isadora, he was going to become Mr. Goddamn Clean for an hour or so.

Klaus dipped a wire-bristle brush into the soapy water and began furiously scrubbing the corrugated walls of his new domicile—a word which here means, temporary residence.

“My sisters and I have gone through a series of unfortunate events, the death of our parent’s, Count Olaf’s attempt at adopting us, triple homicide on our next three guardians…” Klaus sighed, the sheer scope of his own suffering in the last few weeks, daunting to even imagine, “compared to that old freak trying to marry my sister, this shack isn’t so bad.”
 
~*Violet*~
When Duncan nodded, she briefly flashed him a smile before grabbing a string of lights. Since Sunny was no longer an infant it wasn’t required that Violet hold her all the time. In fact, Sunny was always more than happy to help. It made her feel included. With that being said, Violet handed her the tail end of the lights causing Sunny to coo happily as they began bundling them in a similar fashion as Duncan had done the last ones.

“What do you think it means? All that we’ve pieced together is that our parents might have been part of said secret organization called something called the V.F.D and ugh...” she thought back to everything her and her siblings had gone through after their parents death.

“This is nice. I mean, it’s work sure but it’s nice to do something semi-normal rather than run away from some crazed lunatic hell bent on either marrying you or killing you in order to get your fortune.” Violet smiled bashfully at Duncan as he quietly listened to her.

“Besides, I would much rather be here getting to know you.”

Somewhere along the way, Violet had stopped rolling to the lights leaving Sunny to do it and while Sunny liked being included, this was certainly not her idea of inclusion, a word which here means, a state or action of being included, which ironically was actually not happening in Sunny’s case.

~*Isadora*~

Isadora quietly listened to Klaus rant about past experiences in his life and gasped sharply at the mention of Count Olaf and his schemes. It couldn’t have been the same Count Olaf that had at one time tried to take their fortune when their parents died as well.

She briefly shook it off because that was too much of a coincidence. Her and Duncan had been safely hidden from Count Olaf’s terror for a good amount of time. As she thought on this, she continued scrubbing the walls blankly.

“You’ve been through a lot.” Isadora said eventually,” I believe I’ve met Count Olaf before. He also tried to use his heinous plans on us but we managed to get away. Maybe you guys are safe for good. “

At some point while she was talking, she had stopped scrubbing for a brief moment to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

~*Carmelita*~

When had Coach Gazuntite gotten a thick southern accent? Wasn't he from Germany? Not that it mattered because the taste of his cock was reallllllly delicious. She could probably do this all day but by his shouts and moans and how raw her pussy was starting to feel, that was probably not going to happen.

"Guys I'm really uncomfortable with this plan." Said the weird guy...or was he a she? Again, information that she really didn't give a shit about. It was weird because usually when someone said something stupid, she'd tell them to shut the fuck up or to move it like the cake sniffers they were. However, she had this urge to...not say anything because they were an adult and she shouldn't talk back to adults, especially adults that were part of the Coach's team.

If Carmelita were a smarter human being, she'd question why her attitude had changed. However, all that mattered was that she was about to get thoroughly fucked by no hands guy and let out a shrill scream as the monster cock slide inside her ass.
 
For Beatrice-

I promised my love
would keep you warm.

But your death
left you cold.


Patrick_Warburton_as_Lemony_Snicket.png


Lemony Snicket

The phrase “calm before the storm,” has come to mean a temporary and often misleading state of ease and general complacency which precedes a terrible and often harrowing cataclysm to follow—a word which here means, an awful lot of trouble. Storms are often used as metaphors for harrowing experiences since they so often cause unpleasant and life-altering consequences for those who are beset by storms unprepared.

In Shakespeare’s King Lear, the storm represents the impending death and encroaching madness of the titular king at the end of his life. In Moby Dick, the storm represents the self-destructive determination of Captain Ahab’s pursuit of the white whale he’ll stop at nothing to catch. In the popular Hollywood film Sharknado, the storm represents a tornado filled with sharks—and though it makes no sense practically, it clearly illustrates my point that storms represent hardships in film and literature.

Even when there isn’t a literal storm, saying “the calm before the storm,” implies that the current tone and overall ease of a situation—even if the current situation is very grim, as it is with the Baudelaires, things are still about to get much, much worse. So with this in mind, I’d like to urge you to take advantage of this calm before the storm and go read something else, convince yourself that this is the natural ending of the story, that a school bully gets punished and orphans make new friends—but if you choose to read on, a word of warning:

This is only the calm before the storm.



Count Olaf (and Co.)

The Bald Henchman scooped up Carmelita under her arms as if she weighed no more than a kitten. With his pants already discarded and his boxer shorts around one ankle, The Bald Henchman lowered Carmelita onto his massive cock, comparable in size to her forearm. At first, he was barely able to stuff the head of his cock inside, but when The Henchman With Sex Toys For Hands stuffed his cock into her tiny, clenching anus, she was forced to take more of the Bald Henchman’s cock into her tight pussy.

”Oh yeah!” the seven-foot-tall Bald Henchman groaned as Carmelita’s petite body was forced to take more and more of his almost grotesquely huge cock into her inexperienced body, ”this may be your best plot yet, Boss.”

“I agree, Boss!” The Henchman With Sex Toys For Hands concurred, letting the silicone dildo churn up and down a few times in agreement, “damn, her ass is tight.”

“Of course the plan is perfect, I’m a dag-gone genius,” Count Olaf boasted, stepping into his athletic pants, still in character, “though it’s hardly a guarantee of success—since all my plans have always been perfect, but this time, our adorable little accomplice is going to ga-ran-tee success for my brilliant scheme.”

While his henchmen continued to double penetrate Carmelita, Count Olaf retired to the bedroom to practice his character some more in front of her vanity mirror. The Bald Henchman had begun unbuttoning the silk-wrapped buttons on her pink dress, exposing her perky, little tits to his eager mouth which quickly began sucking on one as he thrust forward, hammering her cervix while the other Henchman thrust from behind.

“Hey look, we’re making an adorable sandwich!” The Henchman With Sex Toys For Hands chuckled, lowering his Hitachi wand hand on Carmelita’s clit again, synchronizing his thrusts with his fellow henchman, “adorable, adorable, adorable!”

The Henchman With Sex Toys For Hands used Carmelita’s trigger word again and again, beyond amused at the intensity of her subliminal conditioning. As far as he was concerned, Carmelita could orgasm herself to death and he’d still be enjoying the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of her tight, eighteen-year-old ass.


Duncan

Violet’s smile seemed to light up the vacant gymnasium brighter than the muted lights they were gathering. He smiled back, not really intending to, his face just responded to her smile and for that briefest of moments, he wasn’t thinking about the fire, or about his dead sibling Quiggly, or about Mother and Father—he was completely present in this moment and he was happy.

“Gahhh-guh-go-glum…” Sunny cooed, which mean Get a room…

Duncan instinctively cleared his throat to break the tension, but his cheeks were beet red, even though he couldn’t understand Sunny he understood the point she was making.

“I think that’s all of them, we should get back and help Isadora and Klaus before they start to worry,” Duncan said at last, taking up the bundles of wires that Sunny and Violet had gathered, “I’ll take those for you, if you don’t mind.”

For a moment, Duncan teetered on his heels, wrapping himself in three bundles of red, Christmas lights in spite of his sleight stature.

“I’m glad to be getting to know you too, Violet,” Duncan said shyly as he led them back toward the Orphans Shack, “it sounds like you, Klaus and Sunny have really been through a lot since you lost your parents. I know that I’m not exactly a big, strong hero like Hercules, but as long as I’m around, I’ll do whatever I can to keep you and your siblings safe. From Count Olaf or whoever tries to mess with you. That’s how much you already mean to me…”



Klaus

It was embarrassing, but Klaus actually flinched when Isadora laid her comforting hand on his shoulder. It had been so long since he’d felt a reassuring caress or anything even remotely kind from a stranger that he was more ready to be struck than stroked and his body reacted the way it had when Count Olaf struck him in the face that first day after the news that his parents had died.

For the first time, Klaus worried about how the series of unfortunate events that followed his parents’ deaths may have permanently changed him and his sisters. Were they all less innocent now? Did that make him sexy?

By way of apology, Klaus grasped Isadora’s hand in both of his, sighing heavily.

“I’m so sorry. It’s just… it’s been a long time since anyone touched me like that. But I’m glad it was you,” this time, it was Klaus who made the first move, holding Isadora’s hand as he leaned in to kiss her soft lips tenderly.

“Fivoo-foh-glom…” Sunny said as the metal door to the shack swung open, which meant, I guess I’m just the fifth wheel now, is that it?

“Sorry to interrupt, you two,” Duncan remarked with a smirk, barely able to shrug out of the bundles of lights, “I guess it’s safe to say that you’re getting along…”

How I wish this was the tone of the rest of this story, innocent flirting and age-appropriate kissing—but alas, that’s not the story we’re telling. I have a responsibility to stay with this story until it’s end, but you have no such obligation, so I urge you, look away. Because even in the midst of all this misfortune and woe—this is only the calm before the storm.

Just as Duncan, Violet and Sunny returned to the shack, the sound of thunder rang out and the metallic drumroll or raindrops hitting the tin roof, filled the shack with discordant sound.
 
~*Carmelita*~

All the words that the buffoons were saying seemed to go into one ear and out the other which basicaly meant she didn't a give crap about they were saying. All that mattered was the pleasure she was feeling being used as the little adorable sex doll that she was. IT was about time someone around this stupid cake sniffing place figured that out.

In fact, the only time she ACTUALLY paid attention to what anyone was saying was when they used the word adorable and her in the same sentence. After all, if it wasn't about her then what did it matter?

“adorable, adorable, adorable!”

Was there an echo around here? She'd never actually been double penetrated before, had sex yes, with tons of guys...sure but she was scared they'd break her perfect little body in half if they fucked her both at once but gawd did this feel absolutely fucking fantastic.

"Yess, fuck give it to me!!" She whimpered as another set of orgasms hit her hard but like even her moans were adorable sounding or at least she thought so.

~Violet~

At Sunny's quip, Violet just glanced at her before blushing. Her and Duncan weren't that bad were they? It wasn't like they were all over each other in an unseemly manner. Still, when the time was right Violet could imagine getting a room with Duncan in the future.

This thought only seemed to cause her to blush a bit more, not because she was a virgin or anything just that something about Duncan made her blush. She was usually so logic in her thinking but love at first sight wasn't very logical at all. It was a fallicy.

Violet handed Duncan the Christmas lights per his request as did Sunny.

“it sounds like you, Klaus and Sunny have really been through a lot since you lost your parents. I know that I’m not exactly a big, strong hero like Hercules, but as long as I’m around, I’ll do whatever I can to keep you and your siblings safe. From Count Olaf or whoever tries to mess with you. That’s how much you already mean to me…”


Violets heart did a little backflip and she smiled softly before kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Duncan. That means a lot to me." Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Sunny rolling her eyes.

"Let's go, shall we?" She reached for Sunny's hand as they started back towards the shack.

~*Isadora*~

Isadora was rather surprised when Klaus flinched at her touch and jerked her hand back turning slightly pale. Had she moved too fast? It was quite apparent that he did indeed have some sort of interest in her. However, that hadn't been the reason she touched his shoulder. It was more of a comforting motion but had done the total opposite obviously.

“I’m so sorry. It’s just… it’s been a long time since anyone touched me like that. But I’m glad it was you,”

Isadora opened her mouth to say something only to be blocked by a kiss causing her stoamch to do little flip fops. Okay, so she wasn't wrong at all. She was very much in the right and prepared herself to kiss back but the instant the door slammed open they both jerked back looking like two children that had just stuck their hands in the cookie jar without asking.

"You guys have made it back safely." Isadora said ignoring her brothers taunting. "We've just about finished cleaning the mold off well--everything. Perhaps you two should hang the lights before it gets dark."
 
Henchpersons

The henchman with a bald head was amazed, it wasn’t often that beautiful petite women like Carmelita gave him the time of day. He wasn’t eloquent, charismatic, brilliant and handsome like the leader of their troupe, Count Olaf, so slender women like her tended to be afraid of him, with his deep voice and towering height, he was used to small people being afraid…

But here she was, this sweet, blue eyed, auburn haired goddess, bucking and moaning against his barrel chest while her sapphire blue eyes swam around wildly in their sockets. God—he was so turned on! After all these long years, Count Olaf’s promises that women loved men in the theater were coming true.

Her skin felt so soft and her dainty thighs fit in his large hands like broomsticks. He was still being slightly gentle, since his massive cock couldn’t quite fit all the way into her, but when she started convulsing over another cascade of multiple orgasms, moaning and wailing like a feral beast, he started giving it to her harder, kissing her neck now as he cradled her petite body in his arms.

For his part, the henchman with sex toys for hands was just trying to keep from cumming. The girl’s asshole was incredibly tight and it had been some time since he’d been with a woman either. It was hard to woo women without hands, even after the boss made those handy attachments for him.

“Where do you want our cum, you adorable little slut?” Hooks sneered through gritted teeth, working hard to stave off his climax.

I love you!” Bald groaned out loud, reaching his own climax, uncertain what answer he was hoping for from Carmelita, but knowing he would do anything she wanted.


Duncan

Duncan flashed a quick glance in Violet’s direction, his cheeks still burning with excitement from her pressing her lips there, howsoever briefly. When his sister mentioned that they ought to hurry up in hanging the lights, he knew what he had to do.

“I’ll handle lights, Isadora, you can go back to our… closet. This shouldn’t take me more than about five minutes. Then, you Baudelaires can get some rest. You don’t want to be late for class. Trust me.”

“I can walk her,” Klaus volunteered, taking Isadora’s hand a little more familiarly than Duncan liked, “I mean, just to keep her safe. Count Olaf still hasn’t been found yet.”

Duncan didn’t dislike the idea of Klaus dating his sister, both Baudelaires seemed like exceptional, well-read people of character—he just hoped that Klaus didn’t think his sister was the kind of girl who would have sex within the first time meeting someone in a broom closet. He also wasn’t thrilled with the idea that his triplet sister’s romance was progressing quicker than his own.

After they left, hand-in-hand he looked over to Violet, grinning proudly as he climbed onto the rickety, wire cot that he and his sister had shared the past few days.

“I’ll get these right up,” he boasted, reaching up and looping the lights around the exposed roof beams and several exposed nails that were facing inward, “no problem at—ah!”

Looking back at Violet too much, his shoe slipped off the corner of the cot and he stumbled backwards, dropping the string of lights onto the cot and tumbling backward into Violet’s arms…


Klaus

Though the sky was overcast and he couldn’t see the stars, but Klaus thought to himself that this was the most beautiful night he’d seen since his parents were alive. It was hard, he realized, not letting his palm sweat, in spite of how nervous he was around Isadora, but he managed.

He was getting more comfortable around her too, as he walked her back to her broom closet which he now knew how to find easily.

“Well, I guess this is goodnight…” Klaus shrugged as they stood in front of her closet and he gently spun her to face him, placing his other hand on her upper arm, “it really has been a pleasure getting to know you. I hope we have class together. I’m signed up with a Mrs. Bass. Who do you have?”
 
Carmelita

Oh man this felt incredibly good. In the back of her, Carmelita felt baldy worshipping her neck by planting kisses on it causing her to shiver. His thrusts became wild and animal like. Their grunting filled the room. It was almost like sex toys for hands didn’t exist until she felt him move again and oh yeah, do that thing with his mouth where sound came out of it annoyingly.

“Where do you want our cum, you adorable little slut?”

The urge to fight him on calling her a slut rose but fell rather quickly. After all, she was fucking two guys she didn’t know and him calling her an adorable little slut was more of a compliment than an insult because he said adorable.

Which turned her on again, making it easier for baldy to slip in a bit more.

“A-anywhere, don’t give a fuck just do it!!!” She yelled and instantly felt a slight pain from being rude so she added,” pretty please.” Thankful that the pain in her head was subsiding. Weird, that didn’t usually happen.

Suddenly from out of nowhere, baldy yelled his love for her which wasn’t a shocker. Carmelita was pretty much the best thing since chocolate cake with caramel swirls on top.

“O-of course you doooo, now cum all over me big guy!”

~Violet~

Violet watched in pure amusement as Klaus all but tripped over himself to walk Isadora back to her...broom closet. As the triplet and her brother left, she looked over at Duncan. Once again, they were alone—with the exception of Sunny of course.

Duncan made his way up the cot to hang the lights only to lose his footing. “Watch out!” Were her words when this time he fell but she managed to catch him then laugh a bit. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were falling for me.” A light pink colored her cheeks at the cheesy little flirt she gave him before helping him gain his balance.

“Sorry, that was really bad.” Violet tucked her brown hair behind her ear. “Anyways, if you need help this time...I don’t mind. I’m not exactly good at being the helpless damsel.”

And it was true. Ever since her parents died she’d been the one to take on the motherly role as well as the thinker and while she didn’t mind having a man do something to ‘save’ her, it just wasn’t something she was used to.

~Isadora~


Isadora fought back a tiny giggle as Klaus all but ran to the door emphasizing that he wanted to walk her to their broom closet and had grabbed her hand in the process. They were silent most of the way back to the broom closet which left her with her own thoughts.

After also being the object of Count Olaf’s greed, it was nice to have a sense of normalcy. Isadora was starting to forget what that felt like. It felt really nice.

Isadora made instant eye contact with Klaus as he started to speak and her eyes lit up. “I’m taking her as well. I do have to warn you she loves the metric system.”

Isadora then shuffled about nervously as Klaus spoke. “I-is it okay if I kiss you again?”
 
Klaus

“The metric system is useful, it’s the international standard…” Klaus trailed off as the air was stolen from his lungs.

Klaus’ heart skipped a beat when he heard Isadora’s melodic voice speaking exactly what was his heart’s desire. He wanted more than anything to kiss her, or to have her kiss him again—not that the first time hadn’t been exquisite—it was just so sudden and so brief. He wanted to kiss her for longer than just a moment, more than a quick peck, like in the Hollywood movies. Perhaps even they could touch tongues… he never really understood that compulsion until now and he thought it might be nice to touch his tongue against Isadora’s

In this moment, Klaus took advantage of a rare urge to take charge, which he did. His left hand wrapped carefully around the small of Isadora’s back, pulling her body close against his while his right hand caressed and cradled the side of her face, leaning in to kiss her, slowly but passionately.

Violet, Klaus’ sister was so intelligent, determined and forthright that in most situations it made sense for him to let her take charge of the situation and lead—but with Isadora, Klaus was aware of a deep-rooted desire that had been building within him to be in charge for once.

Moving his soft lips without tensing them, Klaus let his tongue slip past his lips and lightly drag across her bottom lip before reluctantly breaking the kiss. He smiled at her slightly dazed expression. He kinda liked being the one in charge…

“Goodnight, Isadora. I’m so glad to have met you. I’ll see you tomorrow in class,” Klaus smiled, holding her body against his until the very last moment, “sweet dreams.”

Klaus practically floated on air back to the Orphan Shack.



Duncan

It was unexpected that Duncan slipped and fell the way he did, he was usually pretty swift on his feet, but even more unexpected was the full, firm roundness that pressed against his back as he fell into Violet’s arms. Below the heavy sports coat, sweater vest and dress shirt, Violet had apparently developed in ways that his triplet sister hadn’t yet—Violet had breasts!

Duncan heard himself gasp out loud as he realized what those foreign feeling objects were on his back, and though he did an almost passable job of hiding his personal surprise, his body reacted and his grey uniform slacks did little to hide his low-end average sized erection.

“I—uh,” Duncan stammered for a moment, reclaiming his feet but not turning to face her or making any real attempt to escape from her grasp, the bad pun gave him an opportunity to lessen his discomfort slightly, “I guess I was blinded by the lights…”

His pun was just as bad at hers, which made it easier for Duncan to wave off her excuses.

“No, don’t… I—I actually really like corny puns,” Duncan replied, trying to keep his boner facing away from his crush, “maybe you could stand on the bed and I could… um, hold your hips to steady you?”

Duncan wasn’t doing himself any favors.

“But, um, it might have to wait. I should get back to the closet, Isadora and I are pretty sure there’s a rat in there and I don’t want her to try and fall asleep by herself… We kind of have to lean against each other to make it work, there’s less room in there than there was in here…”

Duncan tugged on the edge of his blazer as he turned around doing more to draw attention to his boner than to hide it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Violet…” Duncan blushed hard, pushing open the door with his foot, “it was really a pleasure to meet you.”

“Bbllaablinguk!” Sunny interjected, which meant looks like a little too much of a pleasure, as Duncan hurried out of the orphan shack.


Henchpersons

Oh yes! Yes I will!” the Bald Henchman roared with his deep voice, slamming his huge cock as deep as it could go in Carmelita’s tight pussy again and began jizzing in a long, continuous spurt of thick cum that just kept flowing like an open hose.

As the Bald Henchman’s cum began overflowing Carmelita’s tiny pussy and dribbling down around his cock and balls, making a puddle on the floor, the Henchman with Sex Toys for Hands pulled out of her ass with an audible ‘pop’ and used his forearms to pin her slender, screaming throat between them and arch her body back until he was able to blast his first glut of hot cum into her open mouth and across her tongue, splattering down onto her face and festooning her auburn ringlets as he glazed her from chin to forehead in thick, clumpy cum before releasing her.

“Shit… that’s the most fun I’ve had in months!” The Henchman who was rapidly changing the sex toys for his hooks for hands, groaned in satisfaction, “I hope the boss lets us keep fucking this sexy little whore.”

The Bald Henchman said nothing, as he was still squeezing the last ounces of cum into his new best friend. With his cock still buried inside her, he embraced her, gently like he was trying to coax a kitten to sleep. He sat down on the couch with her still cradled against him, kissed the top of her head gently, laid his cheek against her red hair and fell soundly asleep.



Second Period: Oxymoron

For Beatrice—

When I first met you,
I couldn’t breathe.

When last I saw you,
you couldn’t either.

For different reasons.

Lemony Snicket

An oxymoron is a name or term for a thing, comprised of two other words that have opposite or diametrically opposed meanings, like: jumbo shrimp, government intelligence or adorable slut. But the oxymoron that corresponds with this portion of our miserable story of unrelenting woe, is physical education.

Physical education is an oxymoron because it is scientifically impossible to educate one’s physical self. It can be trained, conditioned, whipped into shape or even practiced enough to take advantage of something called ‘muscle memory’, education is indisputably and without exception, a mental pursuit.

The mental and the physical are the two main realms which comprise the self—but in the case of Count Olaf, the mental is unstable and the physical is unpredictable—in summation, he’s not the sort of individual who should ever be employed as an educator. Yet, in this one instance, someone so at odds with himself embraces that internal conflict to embrace an oxymoronic profession, to horrible and unspeakable purpose.

As I, Lemony Snicket, your narrator, have no choice but to continue the story of Count Olaf impersonating Coach Ghengis teaching physical education, I’d like to again remind you that you do have a choice. Ride a bike, fly a kite, hang some damn Christmas lights—do positively anything other than continue reading. But if you do continue reading this story, you must be some sort of Sadistic Masochist—and that, dear readers, is an oxymoron. Which must be why your actions are so opposite or diametrically opposed to your best interests.


Count Olaf/Coach Ghengis

It took every ounce of determination that Count Olaf had in him not to break character and snap that cursed Vice Principal’s out-of-tune violin in half. It was awful from every perspective, painful to the ears and offensive to artistic sensibilities as acute as the famous actor Count Olaf—but what made him famous was method acting, and for some reason he’d never understand, Coach Ghengis liked Principal Nero’s music.

“Absolute-ly unspired, Vice Principal DiNiro, truly the work of a jean-yus,” Coach Ghengis drawled in his deep accent, “but as I was say-yung, I’ve been dep-you-tized by the super in-ten-dent of schools to take over your untire athlete-hicks department. As well as, to institute a few general rule changes, to take effect over the next week. As announced by me.”

“Yes, of course! Of Course, Mr. Ghengis…”

“It’s Count!” Count Olaf snapped out of instinct, loathe to be known by the wrong honorific.

“Count?” Vice Principal Nero asked, genuinely confused.

“You… can count on me to… announce the rule changes over the loudspeaker, each morning.”

“You’re in luck, I was just about to make the morning announcements.”

“Yes, I think that ah will handle that today. Thank you very much Dos Maestros,” Coach Ghengis snatched the loudspeaker microphone from Nero’s desk and pressed down the button to announce throughout the whole campus, “good mornin’ Prufrock Prep stu-dants—and orphans. I will be your new Physical Education instructor, given the mysterious dis-uh-person of your former coach. After school, there will be a man-duh-tarley Pep Rally—”

“And Violin Recital!” Nero shouted over Coach Ghengis’ shoulder.

“Uh, I guess… and effective immediately, the following changes are made to the school dress code. All girls’ skirts, are to be worn five or more inches above the knee at all times. Any students found in violation of this new rule will have her inner thighs whupped with a yard stick until they look like candy canes. Have a good morning, Orphans.
 
*~ Isadora~*

Isadora had been on cloud nine ever since the night before when Klaus had walked her new home. Home being the broom closet her and her triplet Duncan had been transferred to only just yesterday. She wasn’t even aware if her brother had given her any odd looks all morning, perhaps he had but then he also seemed to be in a world of his own so maybe he hadn’t even noticed her dreamy state.

A dreamy state is usually when someone has just woken up and refuses to be put back into reality or when they are madly in love and the state of their world seems to be dreamlike. For Isadora, the second example was more apt to how she felt.
When Klaus had kissed her, she had half expected him to give her a shy but chaste kiss which would have sufficed just fine. She was not really one to complain when something good happened to her. It was a wonderful feeling when he took charge and she could still feel his lips against hers dominating her with his lips.

Perhaps she could write him some poetry to show her ador—

“Good mornin Prufrock prep stu-dants—and orphans. I will be your new Physical Education instructor, given the mysterious dis-uh-person of your former coach…”

Isadora looked over at Duncan who shrugged his shoulders. Disaperson? Did he mean disappearance? Because the former wasn’t even a word. However, when the new P.E. teacher ended the announcement with new uniform regulations for the girl, Isadora sighed. Her day had been going so well. Without another word, she made her way out, Duncan following behind to go find the Baudelaire siblings..

~*~Violet~*~
“—and orphans. I will be your new Physical Education instructor, given the mysterious dis-uh person of your former coach…”

Blah blah blah something about a pep rally (and a mandatory violin recital. Disaperson wasn’t even a word.

“Do you think it could be…” Violet asked looking at her brother who had been frantically trying to fix his hair, not that there was much to fix. He’d been acting odd since he’d gotten home from walking Isadora to the broom closet. Of course, her night hadn’t ended terribly with Duncan. It made her smile a bit, only a bit because he seemed to rush off.

He had been aroused by her but she wasn’t sure what had caused that reaction and perhaps he was a bit embarrassed by it since he’d ran off so quickly. That part had been disappointing. However logically, any man would be embarrassed if they got a hard on in front of someone that…

Did he not like her? Was she too controlling? Just thinking about it put her in a sour mood.

Violet had never been one to change herself for a man but, she did like Duncan. He was sweet and he enjoyed her corny puns.

“Of course it is. Who else would single out orphans ?” Klaus said bitterly.

“ran rot row graottle (and not know how to pronounce disappearance.)” Sunny cooed

Violet refused to believe it. “No, we might just be paranoid. After all the school has those Count Olaf detectors.”

“new uniform regulations…All girls must shorten their skirts to extra 5 inches above the knees. Any students found in violation of this rule will haveher inner thighs whupped with a yard stick until they look like candy canes. Have a good morning…ORPHANS.”

The way the word orphans was accentuated sent a shrill of fear down Violet’s back.

“What an utterly ridiculous rule.” Violet snapped as Sunny found a safety pin and handed it to her gurgling. “Isn’t this against some code of conduct or something?”
Duncan seemed to be in a daze though, “If the girls skirts have to be shorter than….”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Oh Beaudalaires, it’s us the Quagmires. Would you like to walk with us to get breakfast?” It was Isadora and she pushed open the door.

“YES!” Klaus said immediately causing Violet to get startled and stab herself with the safety pin.

“Shit!” she hissed as a spot of blood appeared on her leg. She glared at Klaus who gave her an apologetic look. “Forget it, I’m not shortening my skirt.”

“Ruh roh…” Came Sunny’s response.
 
Larry Your-Waiter

“That is a handsome wet-suit,” Jaquelin had remarked matter-of-factly when they’d met in the VFD secret tunnel system.

“Thank you, it comes in handy from time to time,” Larry had answered, in the same accelerated eloquence that VFD members affect when talking to one another for the sake of efficiency, because they so often have to go slowly, or back up for the average lay-person who lacks the vocabulary to understand them, “Lake Lachrymose is quite chilly this time of year.”

“It’s a good thing you haven’t eaten anything.”

“What do you think I am? I’m brave, not nuts.”

“Here are your new orders. And a package that needs delivering.”

“Prufrock Preparatory Academy?”

“You know it?”

“I don’t just know it, I went there. This operation won’t just be a job, it’ll be a—”

*-*-*

240


“homecoming,” Larry sighed, standing in the main foyer of the Prufrock main school building, looking back at the trophies and accolades that he and his closest friends had earned for the school in his time there, the good old days, the days before VFD, when they were just a group of well-read individuals of distinct character and high moral fiber.

Taking a step back to observe the high, vaulted ceilings, Larry backed straight into a book cart pushed by a statuesque-looking, very busty, young woman with black-rimmed glasses. The woman gasped and Larry fell backwards, spilling the cart full of books across the floor.

“Oh my good heavens!” Larry cried out as he fell.

“Darn it!” Olivia Caliban shouted, stomping her sensible wedge heel on the marble floor.

“I—I’m so sorry, let me help you…” Larry stammered, desperately trying to stack the books back onto the cart.

“No, no, it’s alright. Let me do it,” Olivia calmed him, her accustomed lyrical meter returning to her bird-like voice, “you’ll do it all wrong.”

Olivia stacked the books in one hand then the other, piling all of them up on her hip, into one huge line of books, all oriented and pointing the same direction. She gave a profound thrust of her ample hips and in one motion, shelved all the books back into place on the cart. For the next shelf, she piled them onto her tapered stomach and thrust them onto the top shelf of her cart with an identical thrust. Larry almost needed a shovel to pick up his jaw.



Henchman With a Bald Head

“Baldy!”

The bald henchman groaned slightly, low in his chest, feeling some foreign weight on his ribcage. He squeezed his eyes tighter before blinking them back open and the first thing he noticed was a tiny, chestnut colored bird with a black head and bright yellow breast perched on the end of his nose, calling him by his name.

“Baldy—Baldy! Hey Baldy!” the bird went on.

It didn’t take long for that trick to grow old and Bald wanted to see other things so he shook his head, letting the bird flutter off. It was then that he spotted Carmelita, still asleep on his chest like a little angel. He clutched the back of her head and the small of her back, rolling over to gently lie her down on the couch they’d shared the night before. He wondered inwardly if she’d been listening to his heart when she fell asleep.

Count Olaf was already hard at work on his scheme, in costume and in character. Bald took a few moments to lay out Carmelita’s costume before stuffing himself into the burgundy, moth-eaten sweater that was to serve as his costume…

“Angel, wake up… it’s time for school.”



Henchman With Yardsticks For Hands

Hands had his best role in at least four schemes, as he was to be the new Hall Monitor/Rules Enforcement Officer, and his job was by far the best in “Phase 1.” It was his job to measure the shortness of girls’ skirts and discipline them if they weren’t short enough by whipping their inner thighs with his yardstick hand attachment.

Hands really felt like he’d made it.

This was better than the fame and fortune that Count Olaf promised them so long ago and so often since—this was what it felt like to be a success. The ruling was so new that the girls already at out of the dorms and in the main school building were all helpless targets.

“You there! That skirt looks long! Hey you! Are those leggings? Come here!” Hands still retained one of his hook attachments so that he could lift the skirts of violators and get a clear shot at their inner thighs with his yardstick hand, “yes, you’re both in violation, off with those leggings this instant—only gartered stockings are permitted at Prufrock Prep. Now stand together—no, closer! Yes, like that, put your leg between her legs. Yeah, now each of you, hold up the other’s skirt.”

“The girls were already crying before he hit them, forced to straddle one another’s thighs with their skirts hiked up around their middle, but Hands felt like Zorro when he administered their recommended punishment.

Whap!—Whap!—Whap!—Whap!—Whap!—Whap!

Whipping the yardstick in a furious zig-zag, he managed to leave three diagonal, red stripes down the inner most part of each teenage girl’s firm thighs, indeed making them look like candy canes with the red stripes on their pale skin.

Just as Hands sent those sobbing schoolgirls on their way, he spotted his real target, Violet Baudelaire and her punk brother. They were with two other children who he didn’t recognize on first glance, but what he did recognize were skirts that were too long. He blew a long, loud blast on his whistle that the Boss was sharing with him.

“Orphans!” Hands smirked, clamping his hook open and closed twice, “looks like you girls are out of uniform. That means you’ll need to be punished. Get over here!”
 
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~Carmelita~

“Baldy, baldy hey baldy.”

Why didn’t anyone shut that god damn stupid bird up?! It was ruining her beauty sleep and someone as absolutely fucking gorgeous needed a lot of it. The soft rhythmic sounds of a basketball hitting pavement echoed in her sleep or maybe it was a heart. Carmelita never could tell the difference between the two. She whimpered softly as in her sleep she felt her body shift.

“Angel, wake up. It’s time for school..” came the soft but gruff voice of one of her lovers from the night before.

“But I’m still sleepy...” she whined partially asleep and partially awake. Everything looked blurry even the guy, baldy she thought she’d heard someone call him or maybe just the bird. He’d stayed with her the remaining of the night?

Well that was weird, no one seemed to do that and usually if they did she told them to go get their rocks off sniffing cake until she was in the mood again.

Still, she did need to get testy for class so she could go torture the orphans in her school.

“Fine...” even though he hadn’t said anything. She reached for her much too short skirt and school blouse.”You know, I like you baldy. You know when to hold em and when to ....” damn it what was the rest of that saying. “when to fold clothes.”

That sounded right, maybe.

“Now where’s my bra and panties...” she wondered out loud.

~Isadora and Violet~

As they wandered into the hallway the sounds of spankings echoed. At first, Violet thought that the whole “short skirt rule” was a joke or that no one would get punished. After all the Vice President didn’t seem to care about anything except his terrible violinist skills.

“Orphans, it looks like you two are out of uniform. That means you’ll need to be punished. Get over here!”

Violets eyes widened as she stared at the familiar figure. Oh she’d seen him many times. Specifically, she’d never forget him sitting at Count Olaf’s table belittling her cooking.

This was not a joke.

Not one bit.

“With all due respect, sir. We had no other new uniforms so until we could pick up the new ones we worked with what we had.” Violet said not backing down.

This gave Isadora a little bit more courage.

“And I have mine pinned at the required length. In fact, we were just on our way to the office to grab new uniforms. Isn’t that right, Violet?”

Violet was silent as she narrowed her eyes at ‘rulers for hands.’

“Violet?” Klaus said bringing her back into reality.

“Right...” she said through clenched teeth,”if you’d allow us to do so we will have our new uniforms on in a jiffy.”
 
Henchman With Yardsticks For Hands

“No excuses, orphans!” the henchman chided, waving one of his yardsticks from side to side like a disapproving finger, while his other yard stick slapped loudly down on Isadora’s thigh, hip to knee, “your skirt is closer, but it’s still three-quarters of an inch too long!”

“Twenty-one point four millimeters!” Mrs. Bass shouted from some meters away, inside her classroom that shared a doorway into the open hall.

“That’s right!” Hands quipped, pointing to the open door with a loud swish of a yardstick, “you can both fix yourselves after you’ve had your punishment. Now, you put your knee through her legs and you put her knee through—yeah, there you go…”

Using a yard stick on the small of each girl’s back, Hands positioned them together, how he liked, with their legs entwined and their thin, little panties pressed against each other’s thighs. He even used the tip of one of his rulers to lift the front edge of Isadora’s skirt to take a proper look at her little panties pressed against the Baudelaire girl’s tanned thigh.

“Yeah, that’s nice…”

“Hey!” Klaus shouted, his voice suddenly full of bass in a way that it hadn’t been before, he grabbed the yard stick that was lifting Isadora’s already tiny skirt, “that’s over the line, you charlatan.”

“Ohhh ho ho ho! Ten dollar word there, big boy,” Hands taunted, wrestling his yardstick back from Klaus who didn’t really have a next move, “you like this one, huh? I like her too… just you wait and see what Count—er, the Coach has in store for you orphans. There is no line anymore.”

WHAP!-WHAP!-WHAP!-WHAP!-WHAP!-WHAP!

Three candy cane stripes for each girl’s inner thigh, then Hands released Violet, but kept Isadora pinned against him with his yardstick hand, using the other to ever so gently and precisely tuck a lock of her chestnut hair behind her ear with the metal tip of his ruler.

“I’ll be seeing you again, real soon.” Hands whispered, his scarred lips lightly brushing against the shell of Isadora’s ear, “hey! You there! That skirt looks much too long!”

Hands blew a whistle directly in Isadora’s ear and charged off after the next skirt that was too long.




Henchman With a Bald Head

After all those years dedicated to his craft, after all the criticism and tough times, Bald’s time among the performers was paying off, he was becoming a charismatic performer type at last! Count Olaf usually employed his talents offstage, insisting that his freakish looks and voice would repulse an audience and that there were no roles for freak show giants.

Still no word on Bald’s proposal to do Of Mice and Men.

But now, Bald was staring in his own private performance of Beauty and the Beast, roaming the halls of Prufrock Prep hand in hand, even though he had to hunch over to hold her hand. Apparently this little angel had vendettas that he was all too happy to take up on her side.

Bald’s costume consisted of a propeller hat in the Prufrock colors and a moth-eaten sweater with the letter P knitted into it. He was not terribly convincing, but no one dared question him. He pushed the library doors open with dramatic flair, just as Count Olaf would have done.

“Where is this ‘Library Lady,’ that dared upset my adorable princess?!?”
 
~Violet and Isadora~

“No excuses, orphans!

But what excuses were they making exactly? They hadn’t even grabbed their new uniform. Though if Violet were honest with herself, she would’ve stayed in the uniform she already had. It was in good shape and there was nothing wrong with the length. As much as Violet was all for following the rules, some were meant to be broken, this one in particular. The shorter skirt length rule seemed fishy in itself. Usually most teachers and principals preferred their students show less skin then more.

The echoing of a violin being played off key could be heard in the distance. On second thought, their vice principal wasn’t exactly the sharpest or shiniest tool in the shed.

Not being the sharpest or shiniest tool in the shed is a figure of speech which is defined as a word or phrase that wasn’t to be taken literally. Not being the sharpest or shiniest tool in the shed simply meant that their vice principal wasn’t the smartest human being.

“you can both fix yourselves after you’ve had your punishment. Now, you put your knee through her legs and you put her knee through—yeah, there you go…”

Both Isadora did just as the weird man with yardsticks for hand directed putting their legs through a knee and vice versa. Their crotches gently rubbed against each other which was both erotic and humiliating.

Isadora blushed as Klaus came to her and his sisters aid. It was nice to have someone come to her rescue other than her brother.

“you like this one, huh? I like her too… just you wait and see what Count—er, the Coach has in store for you orphans. There is no line anymore.”

He did? Klaus liked her?! A deeper shade of red brushed along her cheeks. It should’ve been obvious to Isadora though. They’d spent so much time with one another that—

The sound of the yardstick slapped against their thighs and both their legs shook with each force of the yard stick. As Isadora started to get up, the weird man whispered something about seeing her again and pressed his scarred lips against her skin. Gross.

“Let’s go Isadora.” Violet said her eyes narrowing at the man with yardstick hands. “We should go change so as not to give this pervert anymore enjoyment than he’s had already.”

~LOOK ITS THE ORPHANS DISOBEYING RULES AND GETTING OUR DISCIPL...Disclop the sparking guy a hard on. NOT ONLY ARE THEY STUPID CAKE SNIFFERS BUT THEY’RE PROBABLY WHORES THAT WOULD SLEEP WITH EVEN THE DUMB LIBRARIAN TO GET THEIR WAY!~ yelled Carmelita as she came flouncing out in her usual pink dress but it was already the required shorter length.

Of course it was.

“Let’s go.” Violet said gently pulling Isadora to go get their new skirts and change. After they changed, each girl followed their respective guy to their classroom, Isadora with Klaus and Violet with Duncan.

~Olivia Caliban- Prufrock Librarian~

“Where’s the librarian that upset my princess?”

Olivia rolled her eyes. She’d been reaching across the ladder to put another book away though not many of the children had come to read any. It was usually of her own doing since the new rule of the library being open only 15 minutes had been put into place.

Honestly, how were children supposed to enjoy reading or using their imaginations if they weren’t allowed in the library after the first fifteen minutes it was open.

She climbed down the ladder to see...a strange bald guy.

“Your princess?”

Great, it looked like one of the jocks but...he seemed too old to be in this school let alone in that sweater he wore. “If I’ve offended someone with my inanimate books that was certainly not my intention. But first, to whom are we speaking of?”
 
Lemony Snicket

An idiom is a characteristic mode of expression wherein a group of words are understood to have a deeper meaning than their literal interpretation. The idiom “words can hurt,” is generally understood to describe hurt feelings or reputation. For instance, when Carmelita called Violet and Isadora “Whores,” it might be appropriate to remind her of this idiom, in the hopes that her empathy would lead her to refrain from using such hurtful language in the future.

In the case of the librarian, Olivia Calliban, however, the idiom “words can hurt,” might be understood much more literally, given what happened to her next…

While I wish that the events that unfolded had been different—that Larry Your-Waiter was close enough to come to her aid, that my brother Jaques had been fortunate enough to know her then, or that Prufrock Prep’s library was open more than fifteen minutes a day—but sadly, none of this was the case.

This would be a good time to visit your own local library, find something more pleasant to read about than the tragic and unjust events that unfolded in the lives of the Quagmire and Baudelaire orphans… and poor, poor Olivia Calliban.



Henchman With a Bald Head

Bald grit his teeth, he didn’t like words like “inanimate” or “whom,” he was already pissed off, but now he felt like this big-titted book-bitch was making fun of him. Nonetheless, he wasn’t just here to bring the librarian to heel, he was to do it in her name. He thought that “princess” ought to have been enough, but maybe everyone didn’t see her like he did, not yet at least. Still, he needed to give her a fitting introduction.

“She… always wears pink—she’s… cute and unique—” Bald was stomping one big foot and clapping his hands arhythmically, trying to sing with his deep voice, “she’s tons of fun and better than yo-ou—and her name—is—Car-mel-lita!!!”

Finishing with a flourish Bald grabbed the Oxford English Dictionary in one of his massive hands and swung it across his body, making a thud as the massive book slapped Olivia’s glasses off of her face and knocked her to the ground. Bald ripped her blouse and tore her skirt off as easily as if he were pulling a square of toilet paper.

Bald knelt over the librarian’s prone body, pinning her down with one hand, while his other hand set free his massive cock, almost the size of her leg. It landed with a slap on her bare stomach.

“And she told me, that you’ve been a bad library lady. And that you need to be punished.”

Klaus

It was hard to focus in Mrs. Bass’ class with Isadora’s grey, pleated skirt as high as it was. He’d never noticed how shapely, long and athletic her legs were, like they’d been sculpted from marble by some genius artisan. The way her grey, knitted socks hugged the gentle curve of her calf, the way her thigh flexed and creased with a single line of definition when she crossed her legs---

Shit! He was staring!

When Klaus looked back up to Isadora’s face, he knew he was caught, she seemed to be puzzled about what he was staring at. He just turned back toward the teacher, but she was going on about metric measurements of random objects, still—with no mention of conversion ratios, so the numbers were all but meaningless.

So, trying to be discreet, Klaus wrote a note and passed it to Isadora: “Are you alright?”
 
~Olivia Caliban- Prufrock Librarian~

Olivia frowned as the big numbskull began doing his own version of singing which was not really singing at all. It was an attempt at least, but a sad one at that. She moved to step down the latter as the bald guy finished his theme song for Carmelita.

Of course Olivia knew whom he’d been referring to, she just thought it was utterly ridiculous to refer Carmelita as a princess. As much as she enjoyed using the imagination she felt that Carmelita had become delirious and delusional with her own imagination. Not to mention extremely rude!

“Are you finished? Please take no offense to this but that wasn’t really a so—“

Her words were cut off when he threw the Oxford Dictionary at her, knocking her to the ground so that she was on her knees. He pulled his ......penis out and her eyes widened. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. What in the world was going on? Usually this school was crazy and Olivia was used to crazy but this....this was insane.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She said in a dry tone.

~Isadora~

Isadora could hardly focus on Mrs. Bass when she could feel Klaus’ eyes on her. She glanced over at him a few times. Did he think she looked ridiculous in this silly short skirt, did he think less of her? She really liked Klaus and would absolutely hate it if he thought any less of her.

She looked over at Klaus again this time catching his eyes on her before quickly reverting them when he saw that she’d caught him. Maybe he liked the skirt on her? She couldn’t tell and it frustrated her.

Suddenly a balled up note landed on her desk when Mrs. Bass had her back turned as she explained the lengths of a railroad track.

Are you alright?

Aw, he was worried about her! Maybe the skirt didn’t bother him at all, then.

Yes, my legs still sting somewhat.
 
Klaus

Klaus knit his brows with concern over Isadora as he read her note back to him, that bastard had really hurt her—and Klaus had been helpless again—just like at Lucky Smells, just like at Uncle Monty’s, just like at Count Olaf’s awful house, just like the fire. Pathetic. He scolded himself, blinking back tears at the thought of his parents. Father was gone and Klaus was supposed to be the man of the house, but he couldn’t do anything, ever! He was so useless and pathetic, hardly a man at all. Violet had become something like a superhero in defense of him and Sunny—even Sunny had a knack for getting herself out of trouble and making just the right move to thwart anyone who underestimated her.

Klaus only had a talent for being rescued by his sisters.

Pathetic.

There had to be something—something to distinguish him, to make him worthy of the proud Baudelaire name. Sure, he had a talent for words and enjoyed reading, but such skills didn’t suit the life of an orphan fugitive, no. He was just so helpless, no matter the situation.

Helpless, useless, pathetic… Pathetic…

There had to be something that he could do, that he could do to help Isadora feel better, even if he couldn’t do anything to help her before. Do something now, utilize his gifts—however useless they may be otherwise. There had to be something he could do to help. It was then that he had a wild and impulsive idea, so scandalous that even the thinking of it made him blush as burgundy as the color strokes in his tie.

Would he offend her with something so bold and salacious even? It didn’t matter, bold was what was called for. With a determined look and sweat beading at his hairline, he set pen to paper and then quickly passed the note.

My siblings and I are violently allergic to peppermint
so I hope that you won’t think me negligent,

though the violence you suffered makes me sick,
that’s one candy cane I’d love to lick.

<3 <3 <3
-K.B.-






Henchman With a Bald Head

“No joke, Book Bitch,” Bald sneered, swinging his massive cock like a fleshy cudgel at her face, slapping it against her with a force that made her breasts bounce, “suck and lick it, go on.”

Bald’s massive hand wrapped around the librarian’s formerly neat hair bun and encompassed the back of her head, moving her face around the underside of his huge cock, knocking her glasses off of her face. When he was finished bathing himself with her face, he shoved her onto her back. He grabbed her ankles and pinned them to the floor around her ears—she was surprisingly flexible.

With her body stacked vertically, it was easier for Bald to drive himself into her as deeply as he wanted, the position sometimes called “piledriver.” With his legs overlapping Olivia’s he squatted down hard, forcing his full girth into his victim, bending her back roughly.

“Nobody’s coming here until after lunch, I’m going to fuck you for hours, whore,” Bald sneered, emboldened by the script that Count Olaf and Carmelita had co-written that morning, “I’m going to make you cum until your stupid, rotten, cake-sniffing brain melts out your ears and onto the floor!”
 
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