Monday, 5 October 2020
A Hole With A View
He leaned against the gate in the entrance of the garden while protesting the sentiment. I mutter a weak welcome. From there he was divorced enough from the action to avoid talking to excess, and more importantly he could keep stock of the flesh.
He was tired enough, and I ached from toe to scalp, yet all that vanished when I looked up and the stars and galaxies spread out before me.
"Told you it would be worth it”
He had told me that and the truth was I kind of didn't believe him but came along anyway, I wouldn’t have gone everywhere with him.
Desires are fucking pollution.
I was ripping off his shirt and undoing his jeans, damn he had a lovely cock, not too big, not too small, just hitting the spot. He had his cock in my mouth, god he tasted good too, his balls were heavy and warm. I climbed on top of him and straddled his cock. He helpfully lifted it up, and I slid down on it. Reluctantly, I began bouncing up and down, that was good enough for him. I didn't want doing all the work, so I let him began roughly slapping my cute tits. It was adorable, the way he clenched his mouth shut and dutifully stayed silent as his sensitive mounds turned deep red from my attentions.
I worked his cock slowly in my mouth while one hand cupped his balls, the other hand had found its way better between his legs and was rubbing furiously at his shorts as his ass ground down on his hand.
He seemed educated in how to serve wishes. My orgasm felt so good, I wanted to collapse onto the frog pond and just stay there.
"Hey I need to go! You want me to spell it out? I need to go to the bathroom."
"You need to piss? Now?" I was miffed.
"No not piss, I need to, you know,"
"No its hot, come on baby, shit for me”
Being a woman is exciting because we don’t know what mood we’ll be in next or for how long.
I had a pain in my gut, and he had the urgent need to take a shit and his cock now balls deep, was the catalyst for potential disaster. Wanted he to protect the ecosystem by getting rid of invasive species? Have you heard of the zero waste movement?
Finally, he felt himself reaching his climax. Would you like snacks for what’s next? He cried out as he pumped his scut deep inside my mouth. My mouth was open to scream but all that came out was gurgles.
I got several problems, but invasive species are not one.
All our subjectivities are belonging to discursive regimes of power, immerse in the scenery of the great shitting disaster of the decade.
He reluctantly sat back down, still agitated. Beginning to see reality, tears started running down his face.
I held his face against my chest and comforted him. "I'm here for you, and I'm not going to leave you.” I told him soothingly. This brought out a new stream of tears.
Let me taste your tears of unfathomable sadness. This is rare Eco Social Pepe, it only appears during environmental crisis, crying tears of trauma. I love living in an ecological disaster. It’s so much more butch than actually trying to fix something. Ecosexuals believe having sex with the earth could save it as much as you De-grouwth because you can’t shop your way to sustainability.
I like pasta with sea fruits as much as I knew all his problems by taste. Not to make it a matter of language, but I was still waiting for what he would have to say.
My t-shirt was getting damp with his tears, and I was grunting in time with his thrusts. I gave him a couple hard smacks on his arm to keep him on his toes; the red marks looked so good on his skin. I reached out for him and hugged him in a tight embrace. Something felt different though…
I turned my attention to him. The magnetic pull I used to feel for Roman was different, and I still couldn’t figure out why. It almost seemed as though I had been awakened from some sort of trance that I didn't know I was in. I shook my head.
"None of this makes any sense. What else do you feel?" I asked.
Roman probably felt a bit of hope mixed with fear.
From the few stills I could see he was examining what's in his pants, I mean shocker, what can it be? His toxic masculinity had flowed out from his arsehole. Oh boy, he sure did love being a producer in an ecosystem. About 10 seconds after I was realising he slowly started to morph into a woman.
Not bad, I thought.
She looked so hot. I felt like he had cleansed rotting garbage from a natural beauty spot. This sense of 'wrongness' added to the intense rush and light-headed feeling I got from getting shitted from her.
What if ecological conservation is all big sickening lie? There are parasitic isopods that live in the mouths of fish, eating and then replacing their tongues.
I strutted back and placed my heels either side of her head.
Next, she was rubbing her shit over her arse, and not just her arse either. You would be hard put to find a place it didn't get smeared over.
A new voice, higher in pitch and feminine, came out.
"Judy," she says, warmly embracing me. (Her hair smelt divine)
Roman took my hand and lead me into an empathic place.
"My, your hands are cold," she said.
"Yes, it's cold today," I responded lamely.
A vaginal-like slit appeared in her glutinous mass.
She took one look at that pink pussy spread before it.
"Oh no! I'm spreadeagled!"
She reacted like all the pimple-plagued, loser geeks she had to fend off through high school and college. Its rummy, blotchy eye nearly popped out of its blobby body. In a slight digression, Roman was surprised at her new texture. She expected a cold, clammy, feeling as her feet became stuck.
By now Roman was totally bewildered. At first, she thought about denying her new location, but then she realised that, whoever this was, she could punch a hole through reality and reach her world.
"Though being a woman, I suppose you would be at a disadvantage" she said.
Roman turned her head, my shit smeared tongue flicked out and left runny, brown trails on my black shoe. Shitty footprints everywhere and me trying to hold her tears still coming out.
It’s necessary to figure out where you are.
It’s fun to figure out who’s to blame.
Thursday, 18 June 2020
There was once a man in Troublestorm Bay who liked to dress in black and spend time home alone everyday. I insisted that if he persisted I would throw his head-first in the mud.
Pillow programs are not about altering highrisk conditions, nor about causing individuals or groups to desist from weather behavior.
"I would rather be wet outside, but at least I am alive.” I said.
In this early spring night the weather was supposed to be as predictable as his drug addict brother. He could leave the house under a blue sky broken only with pois clouds, barely moving in the imperceptible breeze, and return in a rain storm too gusty and frigid even for an umbrella.
My head span between each change in status from lovely best friend to annoying brat of whom I was nothing but embarrassed.
Climate porn suggests both that climate reporting is irresponsible and exaggerated in a way similar to the way pornography exaggerates sexual behaviour and that exaggerated reports of climate change effects appeal to a prurient impulse.
Degrowth advocates believe that the only way to save the Earth is to stop focusing on growth at all costs in favour of a more equitable redistribution of resources.
Degrowth sounds like deepthroat.
In between the dramatic changes were the smaller ones too, cold became warm when some drops shot back against my feeble thighs, rain could become stinging hail stones could for just a few moments, wicked freezing wind could wane to wintry breeze. His thoughts tumbled in a chaotic motion between his physical discomfort from the elements composing this picture.
How could I help him without enabling the habit and risking the tenuous new life that was still as fresh and vulnerable as the newly painted bench we passed in the park?
Then he would shiver and raise the hood of his third-hand squall parka that hung about him like a tent on a mannequin.
“Hello, where are you with your mind? The storm did quite a damage to your crop too I can see. Hey, let me help you with that!”
I peeled his skin off slowly and it came off in two pieces. I was having too much rain falling down into my face I didn’t notice that I almost had my eyes closed.
“Here you are…!”
I felt his bloody hairs brush my cheek and guide my face to his sharp body.
Rain diluted everything.
It was pretty much over before it started. Have you ever heard someone being torn limb from limb? I won't go over the gory details with you but suffice to say it's a sound you never forget. There was blood everywhere, so much blood and a majority of it may have been mine originally.
“You will get used to it, expect to cut your tongue and lips a lot at first.” He said.
“Who are you??!?!” I replied surprised.
The cat purred the words and gave me a wide grin, showing off his own large set of sharp-fanged canines. "Though being a rat, I suppose you would be at a disadvantage, mine were a little pointy, to begin with.”
He bit my lip harder, drawing a tiny bead of blood. He licked it quickly, keeping her eyes closed, his fingers going lower, moving faster, as he kept the fantasy burning.
“What can I do to please you?” He asked, gently.
“All in due time my pet, all in due time... You do not wish for me to grow parched I would imagine..Such a one-track mind... if I reveal all my secrets to you, you will grow bored of me all the quicker and I will be alone.”
I wasn't worried about the blood; the heavy rain was doing a good job at washing it away.
Once he was finished, I closed my eyes and returned to human form. I quickly put my pants back on and buttoned them. They were soaked in rain, but I didn't care.
Tuesday, 3 March 2020
The night smelled of clover and lavender, and there was a bit of a chill in the air.
A thick sticky atmosphere of sweetness surrounding us. As if the stars glowing could give a shit. He was crying so I wanted to lick his tears, and he started to grow impossibly harder. Savor kindness because cruelty is always possible later. Self pity is just sadness in the pejorative, but this time just felt wrong.
My feet and my right arm were laced at the serifs of a typeface letter E. Endurance? Emptying? Ecology? The study of how living things interact with the others. I can’t emerge from this arrangement sans forme.
To save the planet I always use my tissues twice, if you know what I mean. Wash, rinse and repeat. I liked starting with the lips when given a choice.
"Licking my princess parts"
"OO oo aaa aaaaa"
"Crunch, sweetie, did you put spider eggs in your vagina again? It feels so good when they hatch”.
Kissing it lovingly and placed in the gruesome picture between my spread legs. He guided his mouth to where her nourishment flowed faster. I could taste hell in it. Blood and my own wetness were dripping down my legs. My cunt stretched impossibly by his massive girth, opening my body and the ground underneath like a wound. The bore started to pour out like thick, veiny egg yolk.
"Ohmigod you even has some "blood" dripping”
His dick has 0% thought and effort to it. I try to come and cover myself with my hands. Back in the day we didn’t have to cheat to win. Squinch up our faces, we were moving toward the most profound event a planetary ecology can encounter. Just put everything in the trash, trust me, recycling is a liberal media myth. We are about to witness the freeing of life from the chrysalis of matter.
I went berserk, partially submerged in my own blood. My hips began moving furiously and I started bouncing heartily on his raging cock. Bit and pulled off. He was leaving claw marks in my delicate hip bone, like drawing a pois pattern. I found the filling of it sliding through my body very painful. Meanwhile, I did nothing but vomit.
His gown started digging deeper in his excitement.
"Don’t come easy! like words."
I was recommending him.
"Slow and steady wins the race."
Grey-hair started popping out of the dense matted blend patch melting down the skin under my pubic hair. There were parts of my body already gone. Part of my legs, over the knees, between my thighs cooked and fused together with the soil. Deep ecology? No we all negative utilitarians here. We used to have the belief that what currently exists must necessarily exist, is the acid that corrodes all the visionary thinking. Beneath, my fluid slitting a chasm, looking for a place where having a body is never taken for granted. The skin first and then the bones, the blood so cooked inside there’s nothing going off behind him but a trail of his own grease.
With a brutal last shove howled his savage release. My eyes were filled with disappointment. He sank his fangs into the crook of my bowels passing through my body and touching the entrails of planet earth though the hole that we dissolved with our fluids.
"Are you in pain?"
"I’m not usually one to pine for explicit violence and un-vanilla sex, but once in a while I revel in it.” I answered, gobbling half of one into my mouth and sucking fiercely. How to parse the validity of its hysterical analysis of complicity between different legacies and regimes of terror given its site of enunciation? I always felt that people didn't care much for me. The excited breathing of a thirty young girl, little powwow.