Pornography (1114 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.38 on 17 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by <murphydog5.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2004-11-10 19:33:30 EST
The subject of this blurb is about an older woman with a knifey, blown voice who is, I think, going to offer her body or her face for sex for money, named Helen. I've had previous encounters with Helen and only until now, now that I think she's going to do this, have I ever really been interested. But now I like wonder what the hell is going through her brain. I hope it's dark as hell without flames. I hope more that the experience will be humiliating and disturbing and pure horror, to the point where Helen want to sick out of not the booze, which she's drinking (I imagine, out of necessity, given what she will do to drink more) but out of terror of the highest, make you want to sick, degree.
I almost hear the conversation between the two before she takes her pants off, or before he unbuttons his and pulls his dick out. It will be short because I say so. He will say, "do it" and look down at his dick all hard and ready for mouth. Helen will feel sick and used and she will bend down and open her mouth real wide. Her jaw will pop and she might blink at that as she dips down and begins to smell. She will smell the smell of dried sweat, sweet shit, odor of a decaying and pathetic human being and she will already know that when your mouth is full, breathing through the nostrils is necessary. This is nothing new to Helen because she needs the money to buy alcohol and extinguish the guilt and self-disgust. A double-edged sword? Sure. She doesn't know this. She's too drunk all the time. It's probably too scary to think about.
Helen, from my previous encounters, has the ability to be very charming and smiley. Her voice, though sounding like swords and desperation, comes out like very positive. The resulting reaction from other drunkies no doubt is "oh sure, sure... you're in a hard place here's some free money with no stipulation." She would say oh no, no, and flash that give-me-pity smile. The lord only knows how much practice poor little campfire cheap beer Helen has had. If I was the lord I'd say a lot.
There was no invisible stipulation or obligation involved in tonight's encounter though. Terms were clear, after some knifey milk. Your mouth for twenty, your pink for thirty. Fifty total if you don't chicken out. Helen said deal and shot pool and ordered on extra to dim the coming humiliation.
I will not know this, or anything, for sure, but I think after this game of eight on green, Helen will go with this lovely gentleman to the camp somewhere in the forest and talk for a while. I want to be there badly but there's no way I could follow undetected. So the conversation is just imaginary. He will say, "we're clear, right?" Helen will flash her fake smile that asks for pity, though it's reflex and she knows it's not coming. She will say nothing and nod with that smile. I, your author, breathe in and out and write my imagination with words and smile as we see what transpires between my two lovely characters.
She lowers her face because I say so. She smells the cocktail of dried shit and stink and sweat. She pops her jaw and blinks and soon she tastes. It doesn't taste as bad as it smells but it tastes bad just the same. Salty, and then she tastes and smells her own filthy spit and she slides back and forth, up and down, crossing her fingers that this man is horny and will come soon. Her stomach feels ready to hitch and jerk; to fight and send up dinner and she feels dizzy inside and she tries to concentrate on money and alcohol and everything being okay in the end and she wills herself to think the good thoughts and fight the stench and loneliness because she wants to get paid. Soon after he says he's really really ready this time and Helen sighs relief and lays on her back and unbuttons her pants and takes them off. They're soaked in dry piss and her once pink panties are sticky and grey now and brown in spots. She smiles again and open her filthy naked legs.
My hand aches now, your author. I have to stop. What ends I simply love and I smile again because I know what happens.
I'll leave the rest up to you.
Murphy
User Reviews
Submitted by Bob_Dole (user info) at 2005-10-16 18:43:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
hm.
Submitted by WhatTheHell (user info) at 2004-11-11 09:59:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Nope... didn't like it, it kinda hurt my head to read.
Submitted by JMG114 (user info) at 2004-11-11 07:22:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Your prose is like poetry. Reminded me somehow of Adaptation, the way you made yourself a sort of additional character in the story, as the writer himself.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2004-11-11 05:27:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Sub par.
Submitted by Teephphah (user info) at 2004-11-11 01:55:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
As a matter of fact I DID spell my own (old) name wrong. What of it?
Submitted by kai070169 (user info) at 2004-11-11 01:49:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
weirdo
Submitted by Teephphah (user info) at 2004-11-11 01:47:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Sounds drunk to me Murph. What's up with that?
Back to the old place (minus the adendum)?
-ithcy
Submitted by Jerems (user info) at 2004-11-11 00:05:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Amazing. Fucking amazing.
Submitted by Mercutio (user info) at 2004-11-10 23:33:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Pure gold, as usual Murph. It's good to see you around here a bit more.
Submitted by someone (user info) at 2004-11-10 22:04:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I really like your stuff.
Submitted by William_Q_Percy (user info) at 2004-11-10 21:20:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Interesting...
once more I fail to comprehend your brilliance.
Submitted by Istaros (user info) at 2004-11-10 21:18:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
honestly
you're a fucking genius
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2004-11-10 21:07:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice piece of writting Murph.
Submitted by Feijuada (user info) at 2004-11-10 19:48:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Helen looks up from her drink. She hears some type of motor.
"NO! NOT NOW! PLEASE, JUST LEAVE ME! MY MISSION IS COMPLETE!"
But the Space People will have none of it. Now that she has acquired every type of STD on Earth, the aliens will tear her apart for blood to get to the STDs (alienns don't use needles) and then eat the rest.
Helen is lifted skyward. A gaping hole is torn in the ceiling. Then, she drifts through, screaming "IT'S COMPLETE! IT'S COMPLEEEEEETE!" Poor soul. She has no idea what will befall her.
FIN
Submitted by Murphy1844 (user info) at 2004-11-10 19:48:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No it wasn't.
Submitted by Fish3000 (user info) at 2004-11-10 19:45:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
This is false advertising. It was good, though.
Submitted by Murphy1844 (user info) at 2004-11-10 19:36:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Addendum: Helen stays at the bar and her friend leaves. She talks to me and says that she thinks I'm smart because I write at the bar and read a lot of books. She says that on a couple occasions, she's peaked over at what I was writing and really liked it, she says. She likes that I can you know think about this stuff and get it all out. At this I was like "watch that" on the outside but on the inside I couldn't help but to smile because she was my subject that dark night last night. But anyway Helen turned out to be just fine. It's better that way I guess.
Murphy