Idylls of the Queen

IDYLLS OF THE QUEEN


by Dini Armstrong


***CONTENT WARNING***

was first published by the webzine Yellow Mama, in their Valentine's issue
#78 Feb 15, 2020

The beautiful illustration was created by Darren Blanch

    When the rapist hit her again, the impact of his right fist shattered the permanent mandibular first and second premolars on the left side of her jaw.

Within minutes his hand was visibly swollen, suggesting a fracture in his fifth metacarpal. An inexperienced fighter. Savvy pugilists present with a break in the 2nd metacarpal. Suppressing the urge to offer him some ice for the swelling, she silently recited Tennyson. Idylls of the King. At one point she had to start again because she got muddled between the Coming of Arthur and the Passing of Arthur. The terracotta tiles were cold. Her mum had been right, linoleum would have been warmer.

The guy was so tall.

When he finished, he washed her blood off his cock in the kitchen sink. Right there, splattering over the mug that read Queen of Fucking Everything in faded colours from overuse. She couldn’t help feeling embarrassed about the dirty dishes in the sink. She was going to take care of that before bedtime.

In total, He was there for 19 minutes. She knew, because when He arrived at the door, with his fake Amazon parcel, the BBC Weekend news started at 17.15 and Captain Francesco Schettino steered the 60,000-ton Costa Concordia cruise ship off course, turning it into the largest shipwreck in history. When Kirsty McCabe told her to expect localised upland snow in various parts of Scotland, the door closed behind him.