Poot: A Tale of Love, Loss, and Freedom

Captivity - Part 1

I spent the next 20 years locked up in that basement. You would've thought I would feel very lonely in that basement but I was actually quite the opposite. I had a television, a button, and my imaginary friends. Me and my imaginary friends had a lot of good times together. Of course, with a lot of good times come a lot of bad times. I had three imaginary friends, Poot Number Two, Poot Number Three, and Deborah. Poots Two and Three were wonderful. They helped me come up with songs and we performed them together. The Poots and I were inseparable.
Deborah was a different story. Of course Deborah was my friend! I wouldn't have made her up if she wasn't. Deborah was just...iffy. She reminded me of Demi, fat, ugly, fat, untalented, and a fatty. I hated fatties so much and I hated when people called me fatty. I would always take out my anger on Deborah. No, I wouldn't flick her vagina (sadly). There was no pleasure in flicking a vagina if it wasn't there which is why I came prepared.
I anticipated this day since I was about one year old. I thought, "Hey, Poot. If you ever get locked in the basement for twenty years how will you deal with your vagina flicking obsession?" When I was younger, Demi and I shared a friend, her name was Mitchie. Mitchie was nice, smelled nice, and very smart. Unfortunately for Mitchie, she wasn't smart enough to see what I, Poot, would do to her.
We were playing hide and go seek and so I made Mitchie count. Demi hid outside under the porch but I just stood behind Mitchie waiting for her to turn around. When she turned around she exclaimed, "Poot! You were supposed to hide! What are you doing? Go hide!"
"Idiot girl!" I thought to myself. I put up my hands and put my fingers in flicking formation. "It's time, Poot." I said to myself.
"Poot...what are you doing?" Mitchie had said. She started to back up but the oaf tripped and fell down. That's when I attacked.
I leaped to the ground and began to flick Mitchie's vagina, first softly, then with ample force. She began to shriek, "Poot! Stop! We can play a different game! This isn't how you play hide and go seek!" I kept on flicking until she looked like she was going to die. She was hardly breathing now.
"Poot is God." I whispered as I flicked.
"Stop! Oh please stop!"
"Poot is Satan." I flicked once more.
"P...please..."
"Poot will rise." With that final flick, my most powerful flick yet, Mitchie died.
I found away to harvest her vagina. I removed it and put it in a jar and I had that jar hidden in the basement since her death. I told Demi that Mitchie had gone to summer camp and then moved away. She believed it.
Now the day had come to use that vagina. I could not flick Deborah's vagina so I took Mitchie's out of a secret compartment in the basement, unscrewed the lid, took it out, and began to flick. It brought me such joy. I imagined her screams as I flicked and flicked. If it wasn't for Mitchie's vagina, I don't know how I would have survived my basement captivity.