Nov 132017

American Horror Story is an idea that I like a lot. Every season is a brand new story and new characters. The story wraps up within the season giving you a beginning and end. They recycle a lot of their actors, giving the series the feel of a playhouse putting on new stories.

The execution of these stories can leave a lot to be desired. Even with just one season, the stories can go on too long. There is an obsession with torture and despair that drags the show out of entertainment and into just hard to watch. Some of the actors play the same damn type of character over and over again which ruins the potential freshness of a new story. Worse of all, many interesting ideas will be tossed out but never really followed up on and some arcs end too abruptly to be satisfying.  For these reasons, even though I sometimes still enjoy a season of AHS, I have never had a season that I could recommend.

That has changed with the sixth season, not available on Netflix. The season is called Roanoke and has a quite a few new gimmicks. One, the show is presented as something that is being aired on television. It is a reenactment show about two poor bastards who bought the wrong house in the North Carolina woods. We have two sets of actors for all of the characters. There are the “real” people discussing their experiences in a studio and then there is the actors playing them in the reenactment. The story unfolds and weird shit happens. There is a shit ton of ghosts, evil hillbillies and strange sightings.  In the fifth episode, the reenactment series wraps up. It is pretty much a self-contained story.

In the sixth episode, we begin a new season of the fake show. The first season was such a hit that the producers are bringing back the “real” people and their acting counterparts to spend a few days in the house as a reunion reality show with cameras. As you can imagine, terrible shit happens. The “show” is built from the footage recovered by the authorities.

This is a really neat development. None of the actors think this shit is real. The real people know it is real but they have their own reasons for coming back. When the monsters show up, they are far worse and scarier than what we have seen before because as the audience, we have only seen what has been reenacted.

The final episode of the season is made up of footage from three different shows, including a True Crime show, a live interview show and a Ghost Hunters-style show before spending the final act completely divorced from found footage and more like a normal show. If you love found footage stories like I do, this season of AHS is a true gift.

I’ve talked a lot about how the show is structured but that isn’t my favorite part. The best part about this show, without going into spoilers, is that the most important character is a black woman. The “show” vilifies her so they can have a villain and you the audience is left guessing whether she is as bad as she has been portrayed. It is a season long discussion about racism in ways I would never expect from AHS. It is also a discussion about how media creates villains out of people and who do they pick? The really dark black woman who is no angel. The last five episodes of Roanoke tackles these issues in interesting ways and I would rank this season almost as racially significant as the movie, Get Out.

The season isn’t perfect. There is still quite a bit of torture. You know if it graphic when they announce a discretion warning AFTER the scene where someone has his intestines pulled out. I feel the first five episodes could have been a bit more creative with their gimmick, but I accept it because the first five episodes are setting the table for the really excellent last five episodes.

So yeah, if you like horror and you like interesting black characters, you should really watch season six of American Horror Story: Roanoke.

Aug 132014

Sweat poured down my nude body. The sun was unforgiving today. The salt of my sweat burned the cuts on my cock. The hot asphalt baked my naked feet. I winced with every step but I kept walking. My pain pleased the Lady and her pleasure was all that mattered.

My leather hood kept my eyes closed but we could see. The ruins of a city were spread out before us. A car was flattened from when a giant had stepped on it. A building had been knocked over from something monstrous fucking it. Rotting corpses filled the road from when an escape had turned into an orgy.

Mouth knew the place so we did too. It was called Savannah before the Monsters fucked the world and the sun grew a nipple. People came here once to eat, relax and buy things. Now we had come to scavenge.

“Search” the Lady commanded. The scars on our backs, arms, legs and cocks flared. The five of us moaned and obeyed.

Giant searched the restaurant, looking for canned foods. Mouth and Ass searched the corpses, looking for jewelry and treasures that might please the Lady. Fingers went to the store, looking for new instruments of pain for the Lady to inflict on us. I went further ahead, looking for better places.

The Lady stood her place among us, her will guiding our actions. Today she wore a newly stolen white dress that protected her from the sun. Her long red hair crowned her glory. I hated her and loved her and wanted her and despised her.

I came across the dead body of a child. Something tugged in my memory but the Lady squashed it.

“Search, Legs” she commanded. An image of a hot knife against my balls flashed in my mind. I whimpered and kept looking.

There was a noise down the street. We paused in our search as I stepped forward. If someone was alive then we might eat well today. If someone was male, then the Lady may torture someone else today. If that male was handsome, then one of us may die and be replaced. Excitement thumped in all six hearts.

A nude woman stepped out from behind a car. Sweat and scars covered her body as well. Leather cuffs covered her wrists. One of her nipples was missing.

She glared at me with angry eyes. We looked back at her and gasped. Like us, there was not one person looking back from those eyes but six.

My pack came to me, the Lady behind us. They ran on broken asphalt and I felt Ass’s feet bleed. They grabbed bricks, pieces of metal and a knife. I picked up a broken stop sign. The Lady doesn’t like us to carry weapons until it is time to kill.

The nude woman was joined by her pack. The women were naked except for their leather cuffs. They looked like they hadn’t eaten in a very long time. One’s eyes were swollen shut but I had no doubt that she could see. One woman was taller than me and we knew that Giant would fight her. They too carried sharp metal and broken rocks.

Behind them, I saw their Lord. While they were thin and starving, he was healthy and fat. He wore pants that were too tight for him and no shirt. He carried a club in his hand and it was stained with blood.

My Lady saw the Lord and she hated him so we hated him too. His pack looked at our Lady and the women moaned with desire.

“Attack!” the Lady commanded and we charged forward. The women threw their rocks at us and Mouth was hit in the jaw. The pain flashed through us all but we kept running.

I swung my stop sign at a black woman with a knife. She dodged and I only managed to slap her bruised breasts. She swung at me and cut my leg. The burn of her slice was nothing compared to what the Lady cut last night.

The rest of my pack fought and we saw the battle. Giant punched the tall woman. Ass fell as a kick broke his knee. Fingers jammed a jagged rock into a woman’s eye. Mouth was hit again in the face and lost more teeth.

The Lady and Lord watched. I felt her mind in my arms as she guided my swing. I watched the woman jerk back suddenly as her Lord saved her. The Lady shifted her focus to Giant as I kicked the woman to the ground. She flashed broken teeth at me as she threw her knife.

Pain erupted in my throat. I pulled the knife out of my neck and it dropped from my fingers. Hot blood cascaded down my chest. I fell to one knee and clamped a hand over my throat. The Lady entered my mind and then left as she saw my doom.

I fell forward into the road. We were losing. Giant had killed his woman but Fingers had spilled his guts into the ground and Ass was having the life choked out of him. Mouth was on the ground and his head was being bashed in. I shuddered as I felt each piece of his skull being fractured.

Giant screamed with the rage of the Lady. He grabbed a knife and planted it into the back of Mouth’s killer. The three surviving women rushed him with sharp metal. He was big but they were quick. They stabbed and they stabbed and they stabbed as their Lord laughed at us.

The Lady was alone. I saw through her eyes as the women hacked Giant apart. I felt her fear.

Her control weakened. I remembered my name. I wailed as I remembered my wife and how the Lady killed her. I remembered my daughter and the horrors the Lady had committed. Despair swept over me and I tried to cry but all I did was bleed more blood into the ground.

Then I died.

“Fight,” the Lady commanded.

I pushed up from the ground. There was so much blood on the road. I grabbed the stop sign and stood up.

Fingers rose and pulled the last of his guts from his body.

Ass wheezed through a broken throat as he stood up.

The three women were approaching the Lady. They spun around and stared at us. Their Lord was confused so they were too. We were dead. How could the Lady’s will be stronger than our deaths?

Maybe that was why she was the Lady.

We rushed forward. I swung my stop sign overhead at the black woman who killed me. She smiled as the sign caved in her face. I knew she was thanking me for the freedom that had been denied to her.

Fingers ripped out the throat of a woman with his teeth and I felt the Lady’s pleasure of the taste of the woman’s blood.

Ass tackled the last woman and bashed her head against the road.

“Take him,” the Lady commanded.

The Lord ran. We chased. He ducked into a store where mannequins had been raped and we followed. He ran out into an alley where strange cocks grew on the walls and we chased. He ran into a street where the dead cars vibrated and we grabbed him. He was strong but we punched and held him down until our Lady caught up to us.

Our Lady carried Mouth’s mask in her hand. The Lord screamed as we ripped off his tight pants. The Lord begged as we held his head still. The Lord cried as she put the hood on him.

“Now, you are Bitch,” she said.

Bitch stopped struggling. We let him go and Bitch scrambled to his knees. He bent his head down and kissed the shit covered boot of our Lady.

“We need more,” the Lady commanded. “We need to replenish my slaves before you fall apart.”

We moaned and obeyed.

Feb 262014

Angela looked down from her second floor window at the Midnight Motel. There were new cars in the parking lot and they were doing their best to fuck each other. A jeep was mounting a compact car from behind while a utility van was trying in vain to get on top of a sedan. A pickup was on its side and another pickup was tapping the underside gently with its front end. Angela wondered if that was what passed for oral among cars. She also wondered if two pickups fucking made them gay.

She laughed at that. As if gay or straight meant anything anymore. In the Old Days, sure, people fought over gays marrying and straight people being allowed to be judgmental but in these New Days, it didn’t mean shit. The sun had a nipple, cities were destroyed by the fucking of giant monsters and just last week, she watched a tribe of freaks wearing gimp masks have a war with freaks wearing thigh high boots that ended in a cannibalistic orgy that consumed both sides both metaphorically and physically until no one was left.

“These are the days of a fucked up apocalypse,” Angela said out loud.

She looked back down at the cars. The jeep blasted its horn and rolled off the compact. The compact beeped its horn sadly and then went cruising for another car. A minivan came roaring up and mounted the compact. The two vehicles rocked together in a loud gnashing of metal.

Angela toyed with the idea of going down there. If she threw herself between two fucking cars, the collision of metal would surely kill her. The grinding of vehicular fornication would crush her to nothing. It wouldn’t be a painless death but at least it would be a certain one. It would be better to choose her own death than to get killed by whatever weirdness she might encounter today.

Her stomach growled. “No,” Angela said. “I’m not going to die on an empty stomach.” She would eat first and then consider suicide later.

A hot wind blew through the busted window and ruffled Angela’s long brown hair. There were dark clouds on the horizon and they were moving fast. Angela sniffed the air but it didn’t smell like rain. The wind smelled musty and hot and for some reason it reminded her of her grandfather.

“If I want to eat, I better find something now before it rains,” she said.

Angela gathered her things which weren’t much. It was hot all the time now so she didn’t need a shirt or bra. She wore shorts because she didn’t like to sit on the ground bare ass naked and in this highly sexual apocalypse, it helped to have something protecting your pussy. She grabbed a big purse to hold whatever food she might find.

She glanced at a mirror to check her hair but it was pointless. Her hair was long, untangled and full bodied as if she had just stepped out of a salon. In this new world, cars fucked and hair stayed perfect.

Angela left the Midnight Motel through the back way. The sound of colliding cars eager to fuck was louder on the ground. She picked a direction down the road and started walking.

She didn’t have a place in mind. The world had changed since Angela was a dental hygienist and it just kept changing. Yesterday this road was made of latex and now it was back to being a road. There was a gas station down the road but yesterday it turned into a giant pink bra. Looking at it now, it appeared to be a giant black lace bra. That was what passed for consistency around here.

Angela hoped that there was something more substantial than the edible panties she found yesterday. She was fucking sick of that grape flavor. The day before she found a giant can of pudding and the day before that was seven cherry pies sitting on a waterbed. She would have killed for a hamburger or a piece of chicken but nowadays the only food she could find appeared to be foreplay, a sex aid or a damn pun.

The hot wind gusted in her face. The musty smell was back and she thought of her grandfather again.

Then she smelled bacon.

Angela started to run. The bacon smell grew stronger. It was coming from behind an old barn. She ran faster.

She turned the corner and stopped in her tracks. Spread out in front of her were cocks growing out of the ground like mushrooms. Brown cocks, pink cocks, pale cocks and some cocks as black as the night stood upright and erect in the ground.

The wind blew and the cocks wiggled. The bacon smell was so strong here.

Angela knelt in the dirt. She grabbed a cock and it throbbed in her hand. She pulled and it stayed in the ground. Using both hands, she pulled again and it popped free. A hairy ball sack covered in dirt was at the over end.

Angela’s stomach growled.

She took a lick of the cock. It tasted like bacon.

Angela looked to the sky. The sun with its brown nipple hung in the sky.

“Don’t make me eat a cock,” she asked the sky.

There was a rumble of thunder. The dark clouds were much closer now. The hot wind blew and the musty smell almost overwhelmed the bacon smell.


“Fuck,” Angela said. She bit down hard on the tip of the cock.

The cock stopped throbbing. Mercifully, it didn’t spray blood or semen. It was like biting a hot dog except it was ten times as delicious. Angela chewed the cock and the taste of salt and pork exploded in her mouth.

Angela groaned. Her mouth was in heaven. She trembled a little. After weeks of crappy food, it was so nice to have meat in her mouth again.

Heat bloomed under her shorts. She was horny. That wasn’t new. Every since the New Days started, Angela was horny most days. The slightest pleasure made her wet. It was a wonder that she wasn’t humping cars herself.

She ate more of the cock. She chewed and swallowed it all until there was nothing but balls left. The hair turned her off and she thought about shaving it. Nah, there was plenty more cock to eat.

Angela tried to count the cocks but lost count around fifty. That was a lot of cock. She could have food for a week easily.

She could also have a few to fuck.

The hot wind blew harder. Something fluttered down to the ground. It was a slow fall and Angela stood up and plucked it out of the sky.

It was a page torn from a magazine. On one side was a picture of a blonde woman spreading her pussy. The other side of the page was a giant close up of big fake tits. It was porn.

Angela knew that musty smell now. Back when she was a teenager, she had been in her grandfather’s attic. He had been downstairs watching westerns and she was looking for old books to read. She found a bunch of trashy romances that belonged to her grandmother but she also found something else. It was a box filled to the brim with dirty magazines and hot attic brought out the pulp smell.

Angela’s hand drifted down to her shorts. She had liked the romance novels but she had loved those magazines. This was back before the internet and computers had put porn everywhere. Those magazines were her twisted windows into what sex might be like. She remembered long hair, big tits, bushy pussies and seventies fashion.

Mostly though, Angela remembered Ms. Playtoy of June 1974. The porn magazines were filled with endless white women but once in a rare while, they had an African-American model and Ms. Playtoy of June 1974 was a tall busty black woman with an afro. Her name was Jennifer Belton and she was Angela’s first crush on a female.

Angela smiled at that memory. As a girl, Angela had seen plenty of naked female bodies but there was something special about Jennifer Benton. She was the first naked black woman that Angela had seen and somehow that dark skin, exotic hair and full lips had awoken Angela to how beautiful and special a woman can look. Angela had snuck that magazine back downstairs, into her suitcase and back home so she could look in private wonder at Jennifer Benton’s unique beauty.

The wind blew and the hot smell of paper washed over Angela. It was getting dark fast and Angela had a lot of work to do. She knelt back in the ground and started grabbing cocks. She pulled a big fat black cock out of the ground and crammed it into her purse.

Another page fell beside her. This time it depicted a brunette’s nearly naked body covered in soap suds. Angela moved the page out of the way to pull up the pale white cock beneath it.

A page blew right into Angela’s face. A graphic closeup of a cock sliding into a hairy pussy filled her vision. She pulled the page off her face and reached for a nice long cock with bulging veins. It came out of the ground and she shoved it into her purse, hairy balls and all.

The ground darkened around her. Angela looked up to see the dark clouds above her. There was something else in the sky above her and when she realized what it was, she gasped.

Pages and pages whirled above her. The sky was filled with the flashing images of tits, ass, legs, cock and faces. There was no rain in the air, it was all porn.

“That’s new,” Angela said. Her wet pussy clenched in agreement.

Something sharp tore across her arm. Angela yelled and looked at her arm. A thin line of blood swelled on her tanned flesh.

It was a paper cut.

“That’s new and not good,” Angela said.

There were only three cocks in her purse but it would have to do. Angela got up and started to jog from the field. She went back around the barn and headed for the road.

Pages flew in front of her. They darted about with unholy speeds. It was a whirlwind of tanned flesh and hairy bodies. She raised her arms to cover her face as she ran. The paper nicked her bouncing tits and long legs but she kept running.

Something heavy smacked into the side of her head. Angela spun around and hit the rough pavement of the road. She scrapped her knees and screamed. Bright lights exploded in front of her eyes and she wondered what the fuck had hit her.

A loud crash landed next to her head. Her vision focused long enough to make out a black plastic case and the unwinding spool of black tape. A label proudly announced that it was Big Tit Swallowers Part Seven. It was a dirty VHS tape.

“Shit,” Angela said. There wasn’t just paper porn flying in this storm.

She scrambled to her feet. Her knees bled and ached but she ignored them. This was a storm of porn and she needed to get the fuck back to her motel.

The purse bounced alongside her full with her bounty of throbbing cocks. Her tits swung as she ran and Angela swore to find a bra first thing tomorrow. Paper smashed against her running limbs as if trying to grab her. Sharp edges of paper cut along her body in painful brief kisses. Black VHS tapes smashed into the ground, narrowly missing her running body.

Angela saw something large and colorful swoop down in front of her. It smacked into her stomach before she could dodge it. She fell backwards and luckily her head bounced off the grass on the side of the road instead of the road itself. The thing that hit her was on her stomach and it was heavy as fuck. All the air had been knocked out of her and Angela gasped for a full minute before she could move.

She picked up the large object on top of her body. It was computer monitor, the cable whipping behind it in the wind. On the screen was a video of a man jerking off. He stroked himself to a messy climax before the video started over.

This was too much. Angela was used to things not making sense but this was too fucking weird. She had survived months of this weird perverted apocalypse and she had had enough. Maybe she should just lay here and wait for something heavy to smash her skull open. It would be messy but at least she would be dead and done with this world.

A page landed on her face. Black tits covered her vision. She pulled the page from her face and her heart skipped a beat.

Ms. Playtoy of June 1974, Jennifer Belton, looked down on her from the page. She held her black tits in her hands and smiled at Angela as if she was the only girl in the world.

Angela stuffed the page into her purse. One of the throbbing cocks almost wiggled out but she stuffed it back in. She got back up and ran.

More pages flew into her face but she kept running. Monitors made craters in the ground as they smashed too close to her. Silver DVD discs flew through the air like round shrapnel.

She ran past the gas station that was now a black lace bra. It lifted up into the wind and flew off to God knows where.

The Midnight Motel was up ahead. The cars had stopped fucking in the parking lot. Angela was close. Her body hurt, she was bleeding from a dozen paper cuts and her damn tits were bruising her chest with all the naked running but Angela ran faster.

There was a crash behind Angela. The shockwave knocked her from her feet and she sailed through the air. She smacked hard into the back door of the motel. New pains erupted along her body.

“What the fuck was that?” Angela asked. She looked behind her and started to shake.

It was a giant screen. It looked like it had been torn off a theater somewhere. A twenty foot tall mouth licks a twenty foot tall pussy. The image flickered as if something was being projected onto it but of course there was nothing.

Angela opened the door and stumbled into the Midnight Motel. She hurt too much to take the stairs to her room. She stumbled to the lobby and fell onto one of the ratty couches there.

Outside the wind howled. Pornographic pages smacked against the windows. Larger items banged against the walls.

Angela struggled to catch her breath. Her purse wiggled and she reached in for a cock. It was the pale white one and she bit the tip off to stop the moving. The taste of bacon filled her mouth and she felt good. She was still bleeding and her body ached but the taste of bacon fixed just about anything.

She took another bite and reached back into the purse. She pulled out Jennifer Benton’s smiling face and contentment washed over Angela.

The world was beyond fucked up but that was okay. Angela was chewing bacon, she had her first crush in her hand and two more throbbing cocks in her purse ready to be fucked and eaten.

It was everything she needed to live one more day.

Dec 052012

I was in the break room when the world ended. The television showed the Washington Monument. It appeared to be growing breasts all up and down the outside. They were big black heavy breasts with even darker nipples. The tall white building was sprouting more breasts as the camera watched.

“Why is the TV turned to porn?” a white shirt said. He looked at me accusingly.

See, I was a janitor in the Before Days. That meant I cleaned everyone’s shit as well taking the blame for the shit, you know? I didn’t have a fancy college degree or knew all the technical computer terms. I was the lowest turd in that toilet and I always knew it.

“It’s the news,” a blue shirt woman said. A blue shirt worked the call centers while a white shirt was either management or sales.

“This is happening live,” she said.

“Bullshit,” the white-white shirt said.

The news put censor bars over the nipples; which was kind silly seeing how the monument was covered in hundreds of the tits.

“This has to be a hoax,” the white shirt said. “Isn’t it supposed to be the end of the world today? Some sort of Mayan horseshit?”

“That was last week,” the blue shirt said. “This week is supposed to be the Rapture I think.”

“I don’t remember tits like that being mentioned in the Bible,” I said.

The blue shirt made a face while the white shirt turned to me. “Watch your mouth, that kind of talk is sexual harassment.”

I was about to apologize and grovel to save my job of cleaning toilets when we got interrupted. The break room doors burst open and a red shirt stumbled in. Red shirt meant he worked IT which was almost as bad as a janitor. He had a furry thing climbing all over his chest and it looked like some kind of monkey except I couldn’t see the head. It was all furry arms and crawling all over him.

“What the fuck?” the white shirt yelled. The blue shirt just screamed.

I ran forward to help. I grabbed a furry arm and tried to pull. The fur was too slick and I had a hard time grabbing onto anything. It was like trying to grab sweaty ball hair. I still couldn’t see the head anywhere and I was right next to the damn thing.

I could see the cock though. Man, it was at least two feet of bright pink cock. It was as thick as my wrist too. The cock bobbed from the center of the arms. The furry arm thing was making its way up to the red shirt’s face.

“Get it off, get it off, get it OFF!” the red shirt screamed.

“Give me a hand here!” I yelled at the white shirt. The asshole ran past us and into the hallway. The blue shirt just kept screaming.

I tried to grab a better hold of the furry thing. I had my arm around one of its arms but the damn thing kept moving. I have to admit that the cock was damn distracting. I didn’t want to touch it and I swear the cock kept bobbing in my direction.

The furry thing was around the shoulders of the red shirt. It was getting his cock in front of the man’s face. It was going to face fuck this guy, I just knew it!

“Oh shi-GURG!” the red shirt said. The furry thing slammed its cock right into the red shirt’s mouth! The guy tried to keep his mouth closed but the monster just slammed it in anyway. Teeth went flying and the cock went right down the poor bastard’s throat.

The red shirt gagged and started twitching. His eyes looked up at me but he wasn’t fighting it anymore. The furry thing was pushing deeper and deeper into that guy’s throat. I didn’t know how he could take it.

The furry thing had stopped struggling and I couldn’t finally get a good look at it. The furry thing didn’t have a head. Now that it was standing still I could count the arms, all six of them. There wasn’t anything more to it. The thing was just fur, arms and cock

“What, what, what?” the blue shirt said.

“I don’t know but we got to go,” I said. She didn’t move. She just stared at the cock that was slowly disappearing into the red shirt.

I grabbed her by the hand. That was how it was back then. Blue shirts and white shirts knew all about business but when it came to practical matters, they would just stare dumbly at a broken light or a mess on the floor. They needed someone to fix the shit. I guess it was just habit that I took care of the shit as I saw it. That meant I had to drag her to safety because she was too much in shock to do it herself. We went out into the hallway.

It was worse out there. A security guard was pinned against the wall; another six legged furry thing fucking his face. On the floor was a white shirt woman, a furry thing sinking inch after inch of impossible cock into her throat. Three feet away from the breakroom door was another white shirt, laid out on the ground while a furry thing fucked his face like a car piston going uphill.

The blue shirt woman screamed louder. All three of the people getting face fucked looked at us with their eyes. None of them were moving but they were watching us. Their eyes followed as we passed them.

“We got to get to the evacuation route,” I said.

“Huh?” the blue shirt lady said. 

“That’s what they always say when there is an emergency, right? Take the evacuation route. We practice it every year.”

The lady looked at me. “I usually just hang out in the bathrooms when we have the fire drill. All the girls in my center do. We bring cookies.”

“Today you’re following the rules like the rest of us,” I said.

We headed for the stairs. The elevators were on our right and the blue shirt lady tried to go to them. I grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

“You’re not supposed to take the elevators. They might get stuck,” I said.

“It’s quicker than going down eight flights of stairs!” the blue shirt woman said.

DING! The elevator door opened. A dozen people fell out. A dozen furry cock monsters fell out with them. All of them were being face fucked.

“That is why you don’t take the mother-fucking elevator,” I yelled.

I dragged the blue shirt down the hall. All hell had broken out. People were being face fucked in the hallway. I looked into offices where people were being face fucked on their desks. We passed a call center with cubicles full of face fucked people. I just kept running and I kept holding onto the screaming blue shirt.

We found the white shirt from the break room. He was face down on the floor. A furry thing was on his back and it was jamming its obscene cock into the white shirt’s ass. The furry thing had pulled down the white shirt’s pants. I watched in shock as more of the monster’s cock disappeared down the white shirt’s ass.

“Ugggggg,” the white shirt moaned.

Even the furry cock things knew the guy was an asshole. We carefully stepped around him, afraid that the furry cock thing would attack at any moment. It didn’t. I guess it has what it wanted.

We ran down the hall and didn’t look back. When we reached the janitor’s closet I stopped. I popped the door open and looked inside.

“What are we doing here?” the blue shirt said.

“I thought we could use something as a weapon,” I said. That was my plan but standing there in the closet, my brain went blank. I wasn’t an action hero in a movie. I didn’t know how to turn all this shit in front of me into some exploding flamethrower shit. I was the damn janitor and this wasn’t some vomit that needed to be cleaned up. This was some freaky alien cock shit and I really, really, really wished I had done more with my life so I knew what to do when furry cock things try to fuck your face.

I grabbed a broom. It felt kind of silly to hit a monster with something that had bristles. I broke the broom over my knee. Now I had two sharp pointy things. I felt better.

I gave one to the blue shirt. “If something tries to fuck you, stab it.”

She nodded and looked at me like I was the smartest mother fucker she had ever met.

We went to the staircase. I kicked open the door and took a look. Nothing furry was crawling around.

Down the stairs we went. Eight fucking flights of stairs. Pure fear powered me down the first two flights but man, that didn’t last long. The stairs were cruel. The stairs punished my knees and my back. Blue shirt wheezed through most of it and I thought she was going to die there.

The stairs also gave me plenty of time to think. What were those furry things? Were they connected to those tits on the Washington Monument? Was this the end of the world? Was getting fucked in the face going to be last thing any of us do?

We reached the bottom of the stairs and I tried the emergency exit. It wouldn’t fucking budge. I am sure that is some sort of OSHA violation but the fuck good that would do us now. We had to go out through the lobby.

“FUCK!” the blue shirt screamed.

I saw it too. Right above the door to the lobby was one of those furry fuckers. It hung there like some sort of sweaty slick door hanger. It wasn’t moving and its cock hung limp form it’s body.

“Maybe it’s dead, or asleep,” I said.

That was when the blue shirt shoved me into it. I went face first into the furry thing and the damn monster sprang to life. The cock went hard and slapped against my chest. All six arms wrapped around me and hugged me tight.

I fell to the ground. I had the broken broom in my hand but the furry thing had a killer grip on my wrist.

“Help!” I screamed.

The blue shirt walked around me. She opened the lobby door and my leg was in the way. She kicked my leg. I was just in her way. Of course I was; I’m just a fucking janitor. To the white shirts, blue shirts and red shirts, I was just some asshole cleaned their messes and got in their way.

The blue shirt kicked me again. She hit me right in the knee and the pain made me move. She ducked through the door and left me and the furry thing behind.

I was fucked. The furry thing was incredibly strong. I couldn’t move my hand that held the broom stake. The cock was moving up my chest and I knew it was going to mount my face. The thing stank like sweaty balls.

The cock got in front of my face. It was huge. There was no way my jaw was going to get around all of it but I knew that it would.

The cock thrust towards my mouth. I dodged my head to the side. It rubbed against my check and hit the ground.

The furry thing got into a better position. The cock was directly above my head. The hand that held my wrist let go. It moved to grab my hair and keep my head still. It lined me up to take the monster’s cock.

My hand was free but my head was trapped. I had only a few seconds before my face was to be fucked. I stabbed upward. I stabbed like a fucking maniac. I stabbed like my mouth’s virginity depended on it.

Blood gushed from the monster. The cock slapped me in the face as it tried to get away. I kept stabbing.

The stake got stuck in the monster. The furry thing scrambled off of me and took the stake with it. I crawled as fast as I could to the door. The furry thing was thrashing on the ground as I escaped into the lobby.

The lobby was quiet.  I couldn’t see anyone. If I wasn’t covered in some monster’s blood, it might be hard to believe that the last half hour even happened.

I walked slowly to the door. My knees were killing me from the stairs. My heart was still pounding from the face pounding I almost got. I was in a daze.

There was a noise to my right. I jumped and instinctively protected my face. I didn’t see anything at first.

I saw her leg from behind the receptionist’s desk. The foot kicked and like a dumb ass, I walked around to get a better look.

It was the blue shirt. She was spread eagle face down on the floor. She had a furry thing fucking her ass. Another furry thing was shoving a cock into your mouth. They were double teaming her. I didn’t know how they got both of their cocks inside her body.

I slowly backed away. The broken stake was a foot away from her hand. I could have kicked it to her but fuck that. She made that mess when she shoved me in the staircase. She could clean it up. 

I went outside.  Something made of jelly and as big as a bus oozed by. I saw naked people trapped inside. A group of policemen were in a circle, jacking off onto something I didn’t want to see. Overhead something with giant tits flew in the sky.

The world had turned into one big fucking mess.

Dec 032012

This Wednesday I have a horror story to post. It is a disturbing tale about the end of the world and although sex comes up, it is not the kind of sex that most people would enjoy. I don’t know if it is a good horror story but it is mine and that is all that really matters. I love horror and at the young age of thirty-nine, I have decided that I would like to write some.

I am letting you know ahead of time because I understand that quite a few of you don’t like horror and I respect that. I wouldn’t want you sitting down to a story and reading something you would rather not. I debated opening up another blog but you know, this is my space and therefore this is going to be where I post stories.

I am debating how to show that a story of mine is horror and not erotica. I thought about putting Horror: Title of The Story in the blog post header but I imagine most people wouldn’t catch it. I am considering adding a short disclaimer at the start of the story in italics but eww, disclaimers make me queasy.

Here is the thing about disclaimers; they are all relative. I happily watch Slasher movies, and monster movies but I can’t handle Saw or Hostel. My wife those Saw and Hostel but gets squirrelly with Russian Soul Destroying horror. Meanwhile, Phantom of the Pulp is watching movies that would reduce me to a whimpering baby.  I slap a disclaimer or a warning on something and my next thought it is the disappointment when someone reads it and goes “Oh, that wasn’t that bad.”

Incidentally, the horror stories I have in mind use a concept that I flirted with last year. I have always enjoyed the paranoid nihilist fantasies of end-of-the-world predictions and I wanted to do my own. Instead of God, global warming or asteroids, I thought the End of the World should come about because of incredible and inconceivable sexual monstrosities/phenomenon/What the Fuck. Let’s face it, most people are terrified of sex. A prudish conservative might fear communist devils from Kenya but they won’t really shit their pants until they see cross-dressing lesbians who have sex with the blinds open. If the world is to end, it should be composed of what they fear most and what most people fear is cocks and pussy. I have read plenty of stories about bloody apocalypses and spiritual oblivion, but I have yet to read about some giant beast humping the St. Louis Arch while millions of humans with their higher brain functions blasted by the obscenity of it all masturbate in worship.

That seems overdue to me.