Pimped-a-fella: Travesty the Sequel


Notes: Inspired by figgy coming over to play for a few days *g* Even if we didn't talk about Saiyuki much. BUT as always, all blame goes towards tro for luring me into saiyuki fanfiction ^_^ I am all together blameless. Warnings: Implied sex, implied orgy - just think of the most offensive things, and add bad sense of humor, to the charges.

There was only so many ways to have sex.

Little Red Riding Ho noted this with more than a touch of regret. They had tried the missionary. He had his doubts as to the veracity of the missionary though. No missionary, as he had met and bedded them (not necessarily in that order), preached the church of Shinigami; no missionary had a mouth that talented, hands that quick, and a tongue that just wouldn't quit.

They had tried doggy style. That particular dog would never see humans in the same light again.

They had tried daisy chains, whips and chains, drinking games...

They had done it all. No drink had gone undrunken, no smoke had gone unsmoken, no orifice had gone unlubed, no condom had been left virgin, no food had escaped being creatively slathered across whatever surface available, no neighbor had *any* doubts left as to exactly what went on in that homey looking little cottage. It was a smorgasborg of orgasmic touchy feely, the likes of which had never been seen by Little Red Riding Ho since last month.

But now they had nothing to eat, nothing to drink, no lube, no fun condoms, no costumes ...

Plus he was out of batteries. All that could be coaxed from his trusty Hello Kitty vibrator was a disconsolate hum, clink, clank, thud.

Little Red Riding Ho's mother was away for the week on a mission of dire importance - her biological clock had just set off a time bomb and she was eager to find that oh so special father of the year. He hoped the lucky candidate would escape with his heads intact.

Grandmama had come up with a brilliant idea though. Taking into consideration all their assets, the only thing of any real worth was Little Red Riding Ho's ability to sell himself. And of course as anyone who was anyone knew, the only way to *really* sell oneself was in the marriage mart. So with a perfumed bath, deep conditioning, laundered red hooded cloak, and a saucy tilt to his pelvis, Little Red Riding Ho went off to the local costumed ball to do just that. Hopefully he could snag a decent fellow with a good sized fortune, a good sized libido, and a good sized... supply of batteries. One that wouldn't mind the permanent guest status of Grandmama, Blondie, and Whiny Runty Wolf in both castle, company, and bed.

Grandmama saw him off with a cheerful wave, an affectionate groping of the ass, and an exceptionally provoking kiss. Whiny Runty Wolf was off to do wolfy things like pee on trees, howl at the moon, and harass some little piggies. Blondie would have said goodbye, but he was tied up at the moment. That Shinigami missionary knew how to tie knots *real* good.

So off Little Red Riding Ho skipped with a careless air to meet his future prince.


The ball itself was a much anticipated event. It had balloons and clowns and magicians and jugglers and birthday cakes and party favors and parlor games and all sorts of other fun things.

To Little Red Riding Ho's disappointment, none of these were polite euphemisms for more of the naughtier games on the market. Pin the Tail on the Donkey did NOT mean Nail the Pony Boy with Your Big Staff. It meant Pin the Tail on the Donkey - both the Donkey and Little Red Riding Ho were rather frustrated if not slightly maddened by this.

This discrepancy was explained by the fact that the prospective bridegroom to be was about thigh high and approximately seven years old.

Little Red Riding Ho was not one for shota con; he didn't even *have* a subscription to Boy Toy or Sweet Boy or any of those magazines.

He sighed and mournfully wondered if a hand job would be enough for some innocent passerby to buy him a pack of batteries. As he made his merry way out the castle though, a loud cry stopped him. Actually anything in the way of loud noises tended to stop him, but this was a different sort of cry.

It went something like this.

"You there, halt!"

Little Red Riding Ho was a bright sort of ho. Whereas most members of his profession ended up coming out badly out of the deal, he came.

And came.

And came.

And came.

And got batteries for it.

When someone says in an authorative and official type voice, 'Halt!', it does not bode of good things.

This is of course at absolute opposites with someone who says, in no particular order but of varying strengths and accompanied by strange and amusing noises, 'halt, stop it, I don't want to, no, I really mean no, no really no..., no.. no... noooooo... no.. no... nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn, nn nn nnn nnnnnnoh my gaaaaaaawwwwwwwwd.'

Little Red Riding Ho guessed it was probably the former sort of cry. So he ran as fast as his mary jane sandals would allow him. Unfortunately, the one who had called halt was much faster at running, and so he found himself kissing the carpet with a heavy weight on his back. Said heavy weight was also abrading his knees on the royal red carpet and reaching for his wrists.

Hm, the position reminded him a lot of the last time he ended up on the red carpet. Little Red Riding Ho went into automatic 'flirt' mode. Which is different from automatic 'lust' mode which is different from automatic 'orgasm' mode which is different from 'are you done grunting and heaving because you're really heavy and I need to get reacquainted with my sanrio friends' mode which is different from 'Damn, you suck. No wait, actually if you sucked maybe I would actually enjoy it' mode which was pretty much the same as 'Is it supposed to flop like that?' mode. So it was all relative. No, wait. That was incest. Thinking of which.

"Dokugakuji?" He tried to tilt his head back. Ouch. He needed to work on his flexibility. Maybe take up tantric yoga excercises again.

"How do you know my name?"

Little Red Riding Ho rolled his eyes and pitched his voice extra high. That part was easy; all he had to do was remember the last time he was inspired by two porcupines mating. Ouch. "Mommy, why are you bouncing on Doku-nii like that? Can I try?"

"Little Red Riding Ho?" The light of recognition came and grabbed Dokugakuji by the balls. "Umm. Mother really didn't sell those video tapes of us, did she?" Little Red Riding Ho was helped up.

"No, but I do believe that it graces the shelves of her Best Hits collection."

"Oh. Well. That's all right then."

"Gokudidoodum!" A high pitched and imperious voice squeaked out interrupting what was, for that particular family, a touching reunion. "Whewu awu you?"

Little Red Riding Ho raised an eyebrow. He gave the now bashful youkai a Look. The Look said who is Gokudiddoodum and why is that brat calling you Gokudiddoodum and what was with that lisp?

Gokudidoodum winced. "That's Kougaiji sama, the prince of all youkai. His speech-"

"We have a prince?"

"-impediment is caused by his missing front teeth. He's quite cute."


"I'm his bodyguard."

"Doraemondlefum! I wet my nappy!"

"And his nanny."

"Dokugokudokina! I'm hungwy!"

"And his wetnurse."

"You gave up being Not so Little John and all the Merry Men you could handle for this?"

Dokugokudokina smiled a bit apologetically. "The Merry Men were more like Not so Merry Queens, and I developed a rash from the pantyhose. Or from the Merry Men, I'm not quite sure."

"That must have sucked."

"Well sometimes. They were more into Britney Spears vibrators."

"Which version? The one with the detachable bust or the dual shock absorbent Justin attachment?"

"I was afraid to ask."



In the end, Little Red Riding Ho went on his ho type way with many promises to meet up with his elder brother in the future. They had exchanged addresses, phone numbers, sex tips, and methods on waxing. It was most informative. Especially for the young prince who listened with wide eyes, wide mouth, and a brain like a sponge.

Little Red Riding Ho noted this and marked his calendar for eleven, nine if the prince was a particularly early bloomer, years hence.

But alas, he had as yet found a way to profit. So with a heavy heart and a perpetually light skirt, he headed back to Grandmama's cottage.

Happily for everyone though, Whiny Runty Wolf had most recently assaulted a carriage carrying a glass slipper, which they eventually used to fill with colorful condoms; a screwable prince, whom they happily put to good use; several pounds of gold, jewels, and loose change, which they also happily put to good use; and an elderly retainer, who they used as a butler, and not the winkwink nudgenudge sort of Chippendale butler neither.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Well except for Blondie who never did anything happily.

And Whiny Runty Wolf who was eventually eaten by the three little piggies whom he so loved to tease. (They got big, they got buff, they got seme, Whiny Runty Wolf couldn't walk straight for a week.)

And Grandmama, who moonlighted as an Evil Old Witch, got all hot and bothered by two little brats and was eaten by them. He couldn't walk straight for a week either.

And Little Red Riding Ho who eventually quit the business and became Little Red Retired Riding Ho With Sagging Behind And Thighs That Could Crack Open Coconuts and opened a School for Reformed Hos.

Ye Merry Olde Ende.

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