____Head____ (1186 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: Disgusting Perversion
Rating: 1.79 on 45 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jack McCallum (View user info) at 2008-02-13 18:51:54 EST
Arlen received the box at his office, realizing he must have clicked on the wrong deliver to address in his Ebay account.
Every few minutes throughout the day he glanced at the plain brown cardboard box tucked away under his desk. He nudged the box with one shoe a couple of times, wondering is he could open it and at least peek inside without anyone walking by his cube and seeing strands of blonde hair or glossy red lips among the packing material.
The day seemed to last a month, and the train ride home was excruciating. He tried reading the paper, but all he could think about was the thirty pound box on the seat beside him.
He had found the item in the box while browsing the pleasuroids listings on Ebay and wondering if the prices would every drop below five grand for a used model. He had clicked the Parts & Accessories link, and that was when he had seen the listing for the item he had received today.
When Arlen was out of the train station and in his car, he lit a cigarette and glanced at the box. It was in the passenger seat. He'd put the seat belt around it.
"Christ," he mumbled, "I wonder if I should try it here?"
A burst of muffled laughter made him jump, and he saw a group of teenagers passing by his car on the way to the train, a few of them peering down at the tinted windows. Arlen drove home.
Mrs. Messerling was in her yard fussing with her rose bushes again. Arlen knew she was a widow and figured those roses probably gave her the only kicks she got, but it seemed the old bag was always outside pruning and watering and generally fucking around. It seemed to Arlen that most of the time she was outside her sagging pear-shape was perched on a little step-stool so she could reach the top of the rose bush. Until recently he had worried that she might tumble off the thing and hurt herself. Now he didn't care if she hit the ground and every brittle old bone in her body exploded.
Late one hot and humid Saturday afternoon Arlen had wandered into his kitchen bare-assed and thirsty as hell, he need for a cold drink of water overriding the piss hard-on bobbing in front of him. He'd fallen asleep in front of the tube after a ball game, and when he'd woken up he had shucked clothes that were sweat-dampened despite the open windows and raised blinds. He'd been standing in front of the fridge, head back, taking great swallows of spring water from a plastic bottle and feeling his erection give a little bounce with every gulp, when he glanced at the window, praying for a cool breeze. Mrs. Messerling had been standing on her stool and looking in his window, one gloved hand holding a pair of tiny shears, the other easing her sunglasses down from her eyes as she stared at Alton's cock. She was frowning in concentration, as if trying to read the fine print on the side of a medicine bottle. Her mouth was puckered and so wrinkled it looked as if it were collapsing in on itself. Alton had ducked out of sight. When he'd looked into the kitchen a minute later she had been gone.
Things went on as they had before, with Mrs. Messerling chirping hello when she saw him pass by, but Arlen couldn't forget that rapt stare as she'd looked at his dong, like she was seeing some mythic thing she had only read about in books.
Since that incident he was careful about keeping his goddamned blinds down.
He got out of the car, grunted a response to Mrs. Messerling's cheery hello, and carried the box into the house. He set the carton on the kitchen counter and opened it carefully.
HEAD the Ebay listing had read. One (1) used pleasuroid head, like new condition. Real hair (individual follicle inset process), face and lips are Skyn™ (the highest-rated artificial skin), eyes have Konoishi iris-hologram insets for depth and clarity, fully refurbished head action/reaction drive units and processors. Head A/RD units and body A/RD units are separate installations per standard pleasuroid design.
All of that means this head looks real, sounds real (yes, guys, she talks), and with an UltraSkyn™ mouth and throat she feels real too (and you know just how to shut her up HA HA!)
Arlen's hands were shaking. He brushed aside foam packing peanuts and lifted the head out of the box. It was sealed in a plastic bag as protection against moisture and static. He unwound a couple of twist ties and then held the head in his hands.
I considered cutting her hair, the Ebay listing had read, but I like that long blonde braid. Also, please note that although the body of this pleasuroid was damaged beyond repair, the head was removed at the 'seventh cervical vertebra' leaving every inch of the neck reservoir intact, leaving more depth and more pleasure for you. Hey, what can I say? I'm a nice guy. Enjoy!
Along with the head, there was a weighted base or stand in the box that allowed you to set the head on a table or chair and lock it in place. Flesh colored clamps in the neck were hidden by the synthetic skin.
Arlen looked at the face a moment. Then he set the base on the table. There were two soft clicks as the head locked into the base.
"Wow," he said quietly. "She looks so goddamned real."
He was already getting a hard-on.
Her hair was more strawberry blonde than the platinum it had appeared to be in the picture online, but the complexion was the same, very creamy, with a hint of a blush around the cheeks. Arlen reached out and touched her cheek, warm, already warm to the touch, and brushed his fingertips across her lips. He knew that those full lips only felt moist. It was a tactile illusion created by the UltraSkyn. It felt wet and slick.
Arlen's scrotum began to tighten up and he shifted in his chair as he became more and more erect.
He tilted the head back and looked into her eyes.
"Jesus," he said. "This is freaky shit."
The eyes completed the illusion. He'd read an article in Time magazine that said sales of pleasuroids had gone through the roof when they started using Konoishi eyes. They looked real. They had depth, an inner light, and a clarity that was astounding.
Arlen tried to speak. His throat was dry. He ran to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. He flicked on the lights. Until then he'd been in the dark. Hell, he hadn't even locked the door behind him or dumped the contents of his pockets on the counter, his ritual at the end of every day.
"Activate," he said.
The eyelids fluttered over half-closed eyes, and then the eyes opened wide. Arlen couldn't believe the color of her eyes. He'd seen a picture of a South Pacific Island once, some place where turtles went to fuck or lay eggs or something. The water had been an intense blue-green. Her eyes were that color.
The mouth moved, those luscious lips forming a tentative smile..
"Hi sweetie," she said. "Am I... am I home?"
"Yeah," Arlen said. A raw croak. He raised the bottle and drank again.
The mouth reshaped itself into a pout. "Poor baby," she said. "Sore throat?"
Her voice was perfect. Sweet, but not a vapid bimbo's chirp. There was a hint of a lilt, maybe a southern accent. She sounded American, smart, confident, playful.
There was an almost painful pulse beating in Arlen's cock.
"No, I'm okay," Arlen said. "Just needed a sip of water."
"Good," she said, her face all business... except for the slightest hint of mischief in the way the left corner of her mouth curled upward. "I guess I'm lucky. I never get a sore throat."
Arlen just stared.
"Hint-hint," she said, and then she laughed. Her laugh was perfect too. No airhead twitter, but a rolling expression of joy that was throaty and musical at the same time.
"Can... can I..."
She raised her eyebrows. "Can you what?"
"Can I... loosen your hair a little?"
"Sweetie," she replied. "As long as you treat me right you can do whatever you want. I'm yours, remember?"
Arlen reached behind her and worked the braid loose until hair flashing with red and gold highlights lay loose and full in his hands.
"Oh," she said. She was biting her bottom lip, her eyes lowered. She was looking at Arlen's crotch. "What's going on down there, baby?"
"Uh...nothing," Arlen was getting really worked up, but part of him still felt like an asshole. This is a fucking robot head! This is retarded!
"Lemme see," she said. She gave him a full, playful smile, and he noticed that her two front teeth on top were just a bit larger than they should be. She wasn't buck-toothed by any means, but he had always found that hint of an overbite thing really sexy. That, and big ears. Not massive flesh flaps like Prince Charles had, but just... slightly large.
He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her left ear.
"Jesus," he said. She was perfect. Perfect.
'C'mon," she said. She made a sound that was half snort and half giggled. "Let me see it."
Her laughter was like lacquered fingernails sliding gently down his back. Arlen shivered.
He hesitated a moment longer, and then said, "Oh, fuck it." He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. He kicked off his shoes, undid his pants, and slipped off his socks. In seconds he was only wearing boxer shorts.
"Hmmm," she said. "I'm having fun. Are you having fun, sweetheart?"
"Yeah," Arlen said, his heart racing. I'm having a ball."
"I'd like to have both balls," she said. She opened her mouth wide and let the tip of her tongue play along her top lip, and then let out another lovely burst of laughter. "I'm sorry. I try to be sexy but sometimes it's just so silly!"
"You're not silly," Arlen said. "You're beautiful."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Baby," she said, her voice pitched lower now, "Let me see your cock."
Arlen slipped off his boxers. His erection gave a little jump with every heartbeat.
She looked at it, looked up at him, and smiled with one corner of her mouth again. Then she nodded.
That was perfect. If she had started spouting any porn star shit about how he had a gigantic monster cock it would have killed the moment.
Let me tickle you baby," she said, sticking out her tongue. She wiggled her tongue and giggled. "Let me taste you."
Arlen stepped close to her. Her tongue began to wiggle and worm its way around the head of his prick. She broke up this literal cock-teasing routine with gentle kisses and wets sucks. Arlen curled his toes, expecting them to gouge little divots out of the floor.
She leaned forward, inhaled sharply, and then Arlen's cock was swept into her mouth with a guhshlup sound.
"Ohmychri—"Arlen said, unable to finish, almost standing on his toes now.
She started moving, gently, wetly, engulfing half of his erection and then drawing back, her throat warm and tight, her lips and tongue probing and touching delicately. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Arlen felt tears rising up and shook his head. Not once in his entire life had he ever felt anything like this.
She drew back and spoke as his cock bobbed in her face. "Do you want cheese on your rudder, baby?"
Arlen snorted laughter and looked down at her as she half-swallowed him again. "What?" If that was dirty talk, it was new to him. No surprise, though. He'd been out of play a long goddamned time.
She started working him harder now, sucking like a vacuum and grazing his sensitive skin with her teeth.
Arlen wondered if he might have a stroke, or blow out an undiscovered aneurysm in his brain. Jesus, nothing had ever felt like this. Nothing! Jesus!
Between hard and loud sucks on the swollen head of his cock she squinted and said, "The headlights are really loud."
Arlen frowned. "Huh?"
She came forward, engulfing half of his length, and then drew back. His erection, slick with her saliva, rested against her chin.
"Fuck me like a shoe, baby," she said. "Fuck me like a worn old shoe." She let out a musical laugh and then lunged forward with such force she deep-throated him.
Arlen felt her nose burrow into the nest of his pubic hair. "What the hell are you talking about?"
She didn't respond at first, her throat working some kind of insane magic that made Arlen want to simultaneously thrust forward like a rutting animal and dance around the room in rapture
She made a few throaty growls, her throat and tongue resonating and sending shivers up and down Arlen's spine. Then she bit down.
"Juh— jeezuz," Arlen said, scared and excited and out of breath. "That's some crazy—"
She bit down harder.
He heard and felt a gristly crunch. The room seemed to flare white all around him, and then Arlen shrieked.
"Deactivate!"
He could feel the head try to shake back and forth as she murmured, "Umm-umm."
"You can't refuse!" He was screaming now. You can't!
He felt a damp tickle on his scrotum, reached down, and raised bloody fingers. He let out a yell like a man falling off a cliff, eeeeeeeeeee and then slapped a hand over his mouth.
The neighbors, he thought, gritting his teeth against the pain. The fucking neighbors. His heart was racing. He put a hand against his chest and told himself to calm down.
He tried to pull away from the head. The base weighed almost twenty pounds. He released the head from the base and stepped back. The head fell against his thigh, ten pounds of pull on his dick as the teeth continued digging into him.
Hospital, Arlen thought. I have to get to a hospital.
Can't! A voice in his mind screamed. You'll end up a joke all around town! It'll end up on the internet! People at work will find out! You'll be the Dickhead Man!
To hell with that, Arlen said to himself. I'm not losing my dick to a second-hand robot fuck toy.
Pants were out of the question. He slipped on a pair of sneakers, pulled his old knee-length yellow raincoat out of the closet, and pulled the coat shut around the head. He looked out the kitchen window. All clear.
He grabbed his car keys and ran out the door. There were two kids hunkered down at the end of his driveway, playing with toy cars.
Jesus, he thought. He jumped into the car and the coat fell open, and there was Mrs. Messerling, on her step stool and just out of range of his kitchen window, staring down into his car at the strawberry blonde head in his lap. She saw blood smeared on his chest and mouth. She screamed.
"Murder! Murder-murder-murder!"
Oh my fuck, Arlen thought. He put the car in gear and backed out of his driveway at thirty miles and hour. He turned onto the road and suddenly the guy from across the street, the guy who was out of work and had a shaved head and a dozen tattoos and looked like a crazy motherfucker, that guy was hammering a fist on Arlen's windshield and shouting.
"You nearly ran over my boys, muhfuggah!"
Arlen looked toward his driveway. The boys were as white as sheets. The cars they had been playing with were crushed and shattered.
Beyond them he saw Mrs. Messerling on the phone.
Jesus, Arlen thought.
He pulled on his seat belt and put the car in gear. He had just started creeping up the road when a black and white patrol car turned around the corner at the far end of the street.
The police car raced forward and then screeched to a stop fifty feet away. The cops got out, half-hiding behind open doors, and drew their guns.
"Step out of the car with your hands above your head," one of them shouted.
Arlen rolled down his window, to tell them he had to go to the hospital.
"He tried to run down my boys," the man behind him shouted.
Mrs. Messerling let out a wail. "He cut off somebody's head!"
People were coming out of their houses and crowding along both sides of the street in front of him and behind, as if getting ready to watch a parade.
"Step out of the car now," the other cop shouted.
Both cops were pointing their guns at him.
Arlen started to cry, blubbering meaningless words. He stopped the car and got out. His raincoat was tangled up in the seatbelt strap, and as he stood upright and pulled away the coat slipped off.
Dozens of people gasped. Some screamed. The cops simply stared.
Arlen stood naked in the street. After a moment the head released its hold and fell to the street with a meaty thud.
His cock, still hard and almost purple, bobbed up and down as blood ran down his legs.
In a voice only Arlen could hear the head asked, "Don't you— don't— don't— don't you love me any more, baby?"
Someone held up a cell phone and snapped a picture. Two other people took pictures with cell phones, one of them holding his phone up and squawking, "Shit, you gotta see dis, yo!" A screen door slammed and a moment later Arlen was blinded by the flash from a digital camera.
A young child shouted, "I can see his pee-pee!"
Arlen's eyes rolled up and his legs gave out. He fell flat on his back on the street. The last thing he heard before he passed out was the head.
"Sweet dreams, b—b—baby. I hope we can do this again. Again. Again."
User Reviews
Submitted by RestrictionsApply (user info) at 2009-01-01 00:00:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
ahh!!
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2008-03-13 17:54:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
heh. good to know.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-03-13 17:14:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-02-15 11:03:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2008-02-14 19:20:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
and what would be considered huge?
--
My own idea, or the standard of pasty damp-palmed basement-dwellers?
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Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2008-03-11 19:40:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
both? I'm always looking for as much perspective as possible. sort of a mirror unclouded by my own mind, you know?
--
Uberstandard, huge is anything bigger than the bearer's head.
Jackstandard, anything bigger than a handful is wasted.
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2008-03-11 19:40:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
both? I'm always looking for as much perspective as possible. sort of a mirror unclouded by my own mind, you know?
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2008-02-19 01:47:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
MY FANTASY....
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2008-02-15 11:39:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Something like this? http://www.ubersite.com/m/114948
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-02-15 11:03:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2008-02-14 19:20:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
and what would be considered huge?
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My own idea, or the standard of pasty damp-palmed basement-dwellers?
Submitted by CarterPFly (user info) at 2008-02-15 05:43:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
brilliant
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2008-02-14 19:20:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
and what would be considered huge?
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2008-02-14 19:16:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll tell my parents - they can pat each other on the back. :-)
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-02-14 19:15:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Consider yourself blessed.
This is America. You aren't blonde. You don't have huge tits. Yet people still think you are cute. That's a major achievement.
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2008-02-14 19:09:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
:-( and here I thought it was because I made people laugh!!!
*weeeeep*
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Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-02-14 16:01:15 PST (#)
Ranking: 0
If Crystle wasn't so cute a lot more people would hate her a lot more than they do right now.
Submitted by knowledge13 (user info) at 2008-02-14 14:44:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
That was a pretty awesome story, i was rolling @ work ! +2
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-02-14 12:12:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2008-02-14 11:41:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
It petered out, pun intended.
Still good, though.
--
Speaking of which.. if something is waning or dying down, we say, "Relax, it's gonna peter out."
But if something is about to build up or increase, we never say, "Stand back, it's gonna peter."
Strange.
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-02-14 12:11:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sexy and sadistic all at once
Submitted by Lib (user info) at 2008-02-14 12:09:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2008-02-14 11:41:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I dunno. It just seemed to need an ending even more over the top or outlandish than what's come before.
Or some complete absurdity, like if it was told as a first person remembrance and then revealed at the end it's their 50th wedding anniversary, or some such nonsense.
It petered out, pun intended.
Still good, though.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-02-14 11:29:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2008-02-14 00:28:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This needed a much better ending.
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Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2008-02-14 00:10:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I loved the story but needed more ending.
--
I'm undecided. There isn't really anywhere else for the story to go unless I ended it with an OJ style car chase and live FOX news coverage of the guy blowing down the freeway with the head on his dick.
Besides, this was a lunchtime quickie that went into overtime and I had to get some shit done.
Glad you liked it though.
Submitted by lostnphound (user info) at 2008-02-14 10:43:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well, I'm not getting one of those now.
Submitted by BlazinBull (user info) at 2008-02-14 10:20:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow. That was great.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2008-02-14 09:39:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Every time I think that there is something wrong with me, I read one of your stories and realize that I'm not quite so messed up after all. :)
Submitted by jared.melton (user info) at 2008-02-14 07:46:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Holy jeez, that was intense.
Also painful.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2008-02-14 00:57:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
"Why should I trust you? YOU'RE HITLER!"
"Saw it coming."
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2008-02-14 00:28:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This needed a much better ending.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2008-02-14 00:10:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I loved the story but needed more ending.
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2008-02-13 23:24:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 head story
Submitted by Falafel (user info) at 2008-02-13 22:20:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Arlen couldn't believe the color of her eyes. He'd seen a picture of a South Pacific Island once, some place where turtles went to fuck or lay eggs or something
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+2 For this alone
Submitted by Ltap (user info) at 2008-02-13 20:47:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Instead of "Kicker of all ass", insert "Biter of all cocks", here... in a good way.
Submitted by HurtByTheSun (user info) at 2008-02-13 20:33:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2008-02-14 01:33:12 GMT (#)
Ranking: -2
I thought this was a post about apollo. Imagine my dismay.
========
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2008-02-13 20:33:12 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
I thought this was a post about apollo. Imagine my dismay.
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2008-02-13 20:32:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm guessing Hilary plays the part of the head in your imagination, Jack. That's gross.
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2008-02-13 20:26:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
you know, i've thought about it before, but now i'm sure
the "women" in your office must have you and your fucking desk cordoned off way-away from them in a 10' high steel-cage
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2008-02-13 20:26:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yeah that happened to me, once.
I can't read a sentence with the phrase "lit a cigarette" anymore without modifying it as such:
"When Arlen was out of the train station and in his car, he lit a cigarette and nodded in agreement."
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-02-13 20:17:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
McCallum: Twisted, weird, and the best writer here.....
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2008-02-13 20:04:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
and now I have to kill 15 more minutes, and there's nothing else to read on uber.
sigh
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2008-02-13 19:53:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
thank goodness it wasn't a red head
do I HAVE to admit I read this?
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2008-02-13 19:48:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Quint (user info) at 2008-02-13 19:33:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sounds like the time Method's Mom met Kobe Bryant.
Submitted by SkullBiter (user info) at 2008-02-13 19:27:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Oh Jack, Me off at FIVE!
I hate my job.
I like this tho.
This may or may not be as funny as I think it is.
I am under the influence of a good mood, and therefore are not liable for any actions I verb.
Submitted by Yozz (user info) at 2008-02-13 19:23:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
How many different words for "penis" can one story hold? Lets see - cock, johnson, peter, pecker, dong, shlong(y), stiffy, prick, dick, willy, john thomas, one-eyed trouser snake, wife's best friend, sausage, pipe.
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2008-02-13 19:18:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This will give me nightmares. Kick ass story though.
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2008-02-13 19:13:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm not even going to ask where you got the idea for this.
Submitted by HurtByTheSun (user info) at 2008-02-13 18:59:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Grim.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2008-02-13 18:56:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
nice
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-02-13 18:55:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Typos are gonna be the death of me, I swear.