The Whorehouse That Jack Built Page 5

  He punched her in the throat to shut her up. She squawked and smacked at him, drove a knee up to catch his jaw, but each blow he knocked back with his free hand, his other holding her down. She was weak from their tussling so far, from her body having to repair itself. She grabbed at his balls and he backhanded her; she clawed at his belly and he backhanded her; soon she not more than twitched before his fist smashed into her mouth, hitting her over and over, until she was still long enough for him to lash her wrists to the bedstead with his rosary.

  “No!” she croaked, goat eyes burning from the bloody mess of her face, thrashing her legs and jerking about as much as she could, “No no no no no...”

  She continued to buck until he stuck his cock into the cunt yawning beside her abdominal muscles. As pre-come dribbled from the end he squeezed his bloated tip in, felt dark energies crackling like static electricity in the walls of the vagina. Of course these alien sexes lead not into a place of birth, but instead his vein riddled meatus slid between muscle and into the warmth of the whore’s bowels, into the twisted ropes of her intestines.

  She shuddered, perhaps from pain, and then Darling laughed, defeated and... Grateful?

  “Go on then preacher; finish this,” she croaked, “Up to yer nuts in guts.”

  His pink eyes studied her face.

  “Do you want the last rites?” he asked.

  Her head rolled back and forth weakly.

  “This is just a carcass, preacher. Me soul is down below, beyond the reach of yer prayers. Finish this preacher; fuck me.”

  He began to pump, to thrust, to pound, long, slow strokes of his entire length, slamming himself into her right up to his pelvis, his balls slapping her side. Her belly would swell with each lunge, distended by the huge cock being crammed into the already packed space of her abdominal cavity.

  It was like fucking a sack of skinned snakes, skinned snakes that had been rotting, their flesh slimy with decay. The whore took it, breathing shallow, gulping occasionally as if she had eaten a meal too fast and it was playing up on her.

  Watching his cock seething under her flesh helped the albino to focus, even as Darling belched, her breath smelling of bile and flesh.

  The albino sped up, sliding in and out and grinding his hips and muttering the Lord ’s Prayer over and over, keeping pace with the flow of the words.

  “...thy Kingdom COME... they will be DONE...”

  Darling belched again.

  “Oh fack,” she moaned, her lips speckled with greasy fragments.

  The albino barely noticed, losing himself in the moment, chasing after the orgasm which would finish this, break the first of the keyholes and bring him one step closer to completing his divinely appointed mission. One of the gates of life and death stood ajar and he must close it.

  The motion of his immense organ working through the whore’s intestines was forcing half-digested material to work backwards, the wrong way. Some previous meal flesh of a past patron was being squeezed upwards; it was this that was making her burp.

  The albino strokes were frantic now as he rapidly recited the prayer of exorcism;

  “Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet,” pounding and pounding, “Consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua,” thrusting and thrusting and thrusting, “Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat,” like the buildup of electricity in the air before a lightning strike, “Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur,” come boiling spilling over into his shaft tightening ready to blow “Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui OFFICIA deserunt MOLLIT anim ID EST LABORUM... AMEN!”

  He ejaculated hard, smashing his entire length into her as deep as he could go, pumping blast after blast of semen into the bolus of her intestines.

  Almost simultaneously, the force of his assault became too much for Darling’s digestive organs, half-digested meat forced from her intestines back up into her stomach which revolted one final time, causing the whore to belch again, only this time she did not stop but followed through, the burp becoming a rushing stream of vomit dredged from her rancid guts that thundered down her own chest and belly.

  The fire in her goat eyes winked out, her life snuffed in a moment.

  His immense cock still twitching even as the glow of orgasm began to fade, the albino regarded the wash of vomit as an omen. Amidst the stringy connective tissue and glistening cobs of fat he saw teeth and knots of hair, the various scraps that the demon whores fed on, he seemed to read the future as some men will in a handful of tossed bones upon the desert floor.

  He pulled his cock out of the whore’s bowels, the sight of his entire length wet with blood almost like her cooling intestine slithering free, noticing that the vagina rudely stitched into her side was withered now, desiccated, completely unable to bear life. The lock was broken. This gate would not open again.

  He used two fingers to close the whore’s eyes, made the sign of the cross on her forehead, and stood up from the bed.

  His cock was still hard, a barber’s pole of spunk and blood.

  “Requiem in pace, bitch,” he muttered.

  CHAPTER III

  "Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do.”

  John 8:44

  (In the Garden how many were there that went on two legs there were three that went on two legs Adam and Eve and the Other.

  (Who is the Son of God He is His own Son.

  (What was its name that was the Other the Other in the garden was called the Serpent.

  (Who was the mother of God the Virgin Mary was the mother of God.)

  The Motherfucker Superior crammed another flamingo brain into her mouth and continued to speak, spraying clods of snotty tissue;

  “During the miracle of transubstantiation ordinary bread and wine become the flesh and blood of the Redeemer. He is often referred to in medieval literature as a pelican. Saint Thomas Aquinas writes in Adoro te devote; Lord Jesus, Good Pelican, wash me clean with your blood, one drop of which can free the entire world of all its sins. Even Dante refers to Him as ‘mankind’s pelican’.”

  A Roman feast; the church had been born of Rome, and retained tattered vestments of the Empire. An extravagant beano fit for the table of a Cesar was spread before the Motherfucker Superior. The Romans cared more for extravagance than taste, and the table reflected that in its theme of Cloud Cuckoo Land. Roasted and fried and stuffed larks, peacock, swans, swallows, parrots... and she ate of all of them, cramming greasy handfuls into her mouth, uncaring whether she stripped leg meat with her teeth or crunched through beaks and eyes, insatiable in appetite as she spoke.

  “In some medieval bestiaries the pelican is said to kill its young with love; it caresses them with its talons and rips them apart. Sometimes its young are said to be killed by a Serpent. In grief the bird rips open its own breast with its beak and feeds the corpses with its own blood, and brings them once again to life. The parallels of symbolism between the bird and the Redeemer are obvious.”

  The albino was at her side. He had no chair, but crouched upon the floor with no food.

  “The communion host of bread and wine is placed upon the tongue with a benediction. The way most birds feed their young is well known.”

  She paused from her devouring to produce a long feather. She opened her mouth and angled the feather in, tilting her head back to accommodate its length, until the fine edge tickled her oesophagus just right and she turned to the albino and vomited into his open, upturned mouth.

  He ate. The quantity overflowed his mouth, splattered down his cheeks and chin, but he guzzled what he could, gulping down half chewed chunks, clotted knots of cartilage and popped muscle dripping with saliva and stomach acid.

  When she had little left to give and the albino had trouble swallowing anymore the Motherfucker Superior wiped her mouth and set herself to pray, quoting from the testament;

  “What goes into a man's mouth does not make him unclean, but what comes out of his mouth, that is what makes him unclean.”

  And then she ate again.

  *

  The cannibal was eating every flesh except human.

  The room was a huge Injun wigwam, smoke-murky, dream-catchers of scalp hair hung from the obscured ceiling and totem poles of those scalped heads, each with its genitals stuffed in its mouth, rose behind the horror he had to fuck.

  Bear-Maiden was an obese Injun whore, a naked, sweating expanse of redskin flesh nearly as huge as a covered wagon. She sat cross legged on woven blanket, her thighs each as huge as a foals belly supporting a vast gut draped in rolls of fat, upon which her enormous breasts lolled. Atop all this was her head, tiny atop the enormous cheese wheels which were her chins, a face of high cheekbones and dark eyes, a face painted for war with black chevrons. She wore a necklace of severed ears that was so tight around her bloated throat it seemed to be throttling her.

  The pile of animals the whore was devouring was almost as large as herself, a screeching, mewling mountain of still living creatures, limbs broken and then flung one atop the other within reach of her hands and mouth; the albino’s brief glance showed raccoons, quail, porcupines, possums, rabbits, skunks, groundhogs and other critters, spines or necks snapped, making noises if they could, sides heaving.

  She ate them alive.

  The albino watched her pick up a bullfrog and ram the creature’s head into her mouth, teeth filed to points that snapped down and with a twist of her neck beheaded it, barely chewing before she swallowed. She held the limp grey body aloft in one hand and squeezed its internal organs out into her mouth and gulped them down.

  She stripped the flesh
from its legs and discarded the rest into a glistening pile of bones and fur at her left side.

  Her hand reached forth again and seized a squirrel. The creature was breathing rapidly and its eyes were glassy with panic, its head pinched between obese finger and thumb; with her free hand she twisted off its tail with a grisly rip, throwing the inedible bush into her scrap pile. Then the mountain of woman-flesh opened her mouth wide and fed the creature down between her teeth, like a mechanical thresher, chewing through the animal from its hind legs upwards, relishing the thin hot blood that sprayed her face as the critters panicked heart beat faster and faster.

  That heart was the clapper in the bell of its ribcage, stopped when pointed teeth bit into it like a cherry.

  “Hungry, hungry whore,” muttered the albino.

  She heard him. Dark eyes, goat eyes, gazed across the expanse of her body at him, ropes of bloody saliva drooling from the corners of her mouth and dripping down her chins. She threw the squirrels head away and grinned her cannibal grin, filed teeth claggy with flesh.

  “Palest of pale faces,” she said, her voice a rumble of prairie thunder, “Bear-Maiden has waited heap big long time. Bear-Maiden is empty. Come fill Bear-Maiden.”

  A slug-tongue oozed out of her mouth and ran around her lips.

  “Or does palest face want Bear-Maiden to smoke-um his peace pipe?” she leered.

  The albino had the rosary wrapped around his wrist and his holsters were on his naked hips, but all he truly needed was already rearing up righteous between his legs again, still eager to fuck the damned back to Hell.

  Though reaching her cunt presented a problem; sweating rolls of redskin fat obscured her crotch.

  Bear-Maiden laughed, making her whole body quiver.

  The albino advanced, gripping himself around the base of his rainbow coloured cock with both hands; he pumped his shaft like he was chambering a round into a shotgun.

  Bear-Maiden crammed a quail with broken legs into her mouth. It cheeped once before she chomped. Feathers grew from between her grinning teeth.

  Hail Mary full of grace... and yes he could easily picture this Vestal whore as some gnostic perversion of the Divine Mother, could picture her vast belly full of life.

  The albino shoved the fist of his glans into the fat of her belly, not counting on luck to find her sex but preparing to stick her again and again, like exploring for oil. The sensation on his cock was a rubbery squeezing, sweat and dead skin forming a slimy lubricant. He kept pushing, the pressure of her fat folds squeezing him harder, and shoving inch after inch of himself into the enormous folds of waste blubber. He grabbed at her for purchase, gripped moist handfuls of her obesity and her flesh spoke...

  Bear-Maiden was from a tribe whose men earned honor from the fat of their wives the bigger their woman surely the greater was their skill as a hunter to provide such quantities of food a bizarre reversal of the more common Injun ritual of potlatch her husband Coyote was a fierce warrior whose reputation grew even as his wife did and as she grew so did her greed and as she grew so did his desire for more honour and the two hungers devoured each other...

  Two thirds of his cock was in before it pressed against anything solid.

  The albino glanced up at her. Her face was five feet from his across the expanse of her bulk, and she was still eating, blood and fur slathered around her chops

  “Palest face tries to arrow Bear-Maiden’s navel with his mighty totem. This is heap big amusing to Bear-Maiden. Palest face cannot fill Bear-Maiden like Bear-Maiden’s husband Coyote. Coyote knew how to satisfy his woman.”

  Whatever the albino was pressed up against suddenly gave, and three inches of his cock sank into... something wrong. Like punching through a hymen, only this was surely no hymen. The sensation was so wrong the albino pushed away from her, pulling the length of himself out of her flesh.

  He looked down at his cock, wondering why he felt so sticky, and knowing he had not come could not understand why he was sheathed in lumpy yellow slime.

  The lumps were moving.

  His penis was covered in pus and maggots. The pus stank of rotten fish.

  Disgusted, he wiped at himself, pulling sticky skeins of filth off his giant cock, his fingers webbing together. The maggots reared up, tiny red jaws twitching as they bit at him.

  Bear-Maiden laughed and laughed, her necklace of ears flapping with each laugh, rolling timbers of dark amusement as she lifted a fold of fat under her breast to expose weeping sores seething with grubs. Her whole body was riddled with them, the filthy skin of the rolls rubbing and irritating until it bled and the flies came to lay eggs in the moist sores.

  The albino had shoved his cock into a hive of pupae, nesting in the rotten core of the whore’s navel.

  He frantically wiped his cock, wincing when the maggots bit him, gripping their bodies between thumb and finger to twist them off before they started drinking his blood. Hardened against all the fluids of pleasure, still even he was repulsed by what Bear-Maiden represented; like a ripe gourd apparently bulging with life, she was in fact wholly decayed within.

  His near-permanent erection dipped a little, such was his disgust.

  All thoughts of the Holy Mother went from his mind. He could not fantasise this creature of death had anything in common with the divine belly swollen with Childe that normally stoked his desire.

  In a rare moment in which his ego surfaced, the albino felt pure hate. Something of the rare emotion must have shown in his eyes, because the whore stopped laughing when next she gazed down at him over her expanse.

  Stopped laughing with her mouth still open... and that was when he knew where the Gash was. Where else could it be, but stitched inside the orifice her life had revolved about?

  The albino reached for his holsters like a gunfighter going for his irons, but instead of pulling twin revolvers he produced the Crucifux, two long, blackened chunks of wood almost the size and shape of his own cock.

  A pair of dildos carved from pieces of the true cross.

  He held them out at right angles to one another, forming the symbol of faith.

  The Injun whore hissed and tried to shield her eyes; the symbol hurt her twice, both as a demon and as a redskin whose tribe and culture had been decimated by the white man bearing it as an excuse for genocide.

  “Oh pity Bear-Maiden, palest face,” she moaned, “She has the white man’s disease of spirit! Do not taunt Bear-Maiden with the symbol of that disease!”

  The albino said, “Disease of spirit?”

  The Injun whore grinned slyly.

  “To want more than you need,” she said, “To have eyes bigger than your belly.”

  She cackled.

  The albino swung a Crucifux high and plunged it into the whore’s belly, sinking it deep into the rotten flesh, and then stabbed the other into a blubbery roll above the first. The smell of the bloody fat that squirted out was spoiled eggs.

  The whore screamed.

  The albino pulled himself up the side of her bulk, keeping a grip on one of the Crucifux as he pulled the other free, swinging it high again and ramming it deep into her right tit. She screamed, and he had another handhold to haul himself up.

  As he climbed the disgusting obesity towards her face his body was pressed against her rotten-meat stinking flesh and it spoke...

  Bear-Maiden’s tribe believed in the wendigo an insane spirit of the long winter nights possessed of an insatiable appetite for human flesh a spirit of slaughter and madness a spirit possessed of insatiable apetitie a spirit of possession.

  She squealed and shuddered, her wasted muscles unable to move her body enough to shake him off as the albino crawled up her slimy body towards her mouth, stabbing handholds for himself with the divine sex toys.

  There came a brutal winter that forced the whole tribe to shelter all in her husband’s long house it had been a hard Autumn food ran low and was rationed and one evening out of the cold waste came the foul spirit of appetite KILL THEM EAT THEM who spoke to Bear-Maiden’s greed and to her husband Coyote’s desire and when spring came only one remained in the long house, better fed than even in her husband’s prime EAT EAT EAT.

  The miracle she was a perversion of he saw very clearly as clearly as he saw what took place in that dark and frozen long house tribal elders friends relatives cousins and parents killed by Coyote and fed to Bear-Maiden EAT THEM ALL and his last act was self-slaughter to feed his ever hungry wife the miracle of the feasting on the five thousand.