Piecemeal June (2 page)

out loud. Jesus Christ. He continued laughing as he dried himself and walked over to the bed to inspect 14 Piecemeal June the new piece. It was a womans foot, approximately size 8 and with painted toes that matched the fingernails. Mithra let go of it and turned over, revealing his belly. Kevin rubbed the cat. Since when can you use the toilet, you little sonovabitch? Then he felt the foot. It felt real. It felt like every other female foot hed ever touched. But it wasnt real, couldnt be. He could still feel that it was made of rubber or plastic or whatever else they made these things out of. A fucking sex doll, he said under his breath. There was a feeling, though; he thought that it was something more than a simple fuck toy. As with the ankle and the hand, the foot felt sweaty but even more, it held the familiar foot odor that Kevin was more than acquainted with. He put his nose to the toes and inhaled the stench. It was as if his brain became a television and he watched as a teenage Kevin knelt at the feet of his high school Spanish teacher. She was a statuesque older woman who forced him to first massage her feet while he sniffed them. Then she peeled a banana and fed it to Kevin using only her feet. He could still taste the fruit mixed with the pungent flavor of Ms. Booths soles. Mithra meowed and brought Kevin back to the bedroom. His nose was still touching the top of the foot. There was something in between the toes. He stuck a finger in there, cleaning out the gunk. Bringing the finger to his nose, he smelt banana. Kevin was pleasantly shocked. The sex dolls foot has banana-flavored toejam. 15 CHAPTER THREE Max Alexander, pornographer extraordinaire, started filming. It was a small production having only one actress and a room full of bizarre props. The set was just a living room with a couch and a glass coffee table. Sitting on that couch was a young woman, 19 years old but looking ten years older because of her addiction to crystal meth. Her blonde hair, once bright, was now dull and filthy to match her vacant expression. This bitchs pretty fucking ugly, Max admitted, but shes also pretty fucking cheap. He had only offered her a hundred dollars for five hours worth of work. When all was said and done hed have approximately 70 minutes of worthwhile footage with about an hour and a half of outtakes that he could probably sell later on to one of the numerous crappy porn companies that made compilation tapes. As Max directed the girl to take the stuffed Cthulhu doll and stick the tentacles into both her ass and vagina, an audience of three was watching through a two-way mirror. Macchu, Bacchu, and Frank sat in rapt attention, using their claws in an odd form of self-pleasure. They did not possess penises proper but instead had a circle of pimple-like bumps on their stomachs that acted as their sex organs. The claws nipped at each bump, building the ecstasy up to an overwhelming level. When the creatures got close to orgasm, each bump excreted brown pus. This pus also acted as a sort of balm for their mouths which 16 Piecemeal June often got chapped. Their bodies still hadnt gotten used to the weather. As the girl pushed the plush green god into her orifices, the three creatures brought themselves to climax silently as if in awe of the girls humiliation. A cob of corn had already been inserted inside her rectum and her pushing in of the Cthulhu toy was only sending it further into her colon. Thats it, honey. Youre a sweet lil whore, aint ya? Max goaded her on. Unlike the creatures, he was not getting aroused, not sexually anyway. He had been in the business a long time and all of the degradation hed witnessed had left him sexually bored but intellectually stimulated. Watching pretty young things commit extremely indecent acts for a small amount of cash left his brain spinning. I wonder who didnt love her growing up. Mommy? Daddy? Jeez, I bet she grew up in a fine family, probably just a spoiled brat. His knowledge of human nature was growing with every piss-drinking, squid-fucking wannabe actress who answered his ads. Besides, some of the things hed seen over the years made all of these acts seem pale in comparison. Are we done yet? the girl whispered. It hurts. Shhhhh! Max hated having to overdub the audio. Hed have to make some other girl come in later and record her saying something else. Cant have the audience think this girl is really in pain. Its the illusion of real pain that really gets the dicks hard. Max knew that if any of those jerk-offs who bought his movies really knew what real pain was like, theyd run back to their mommies with their dicks in their hands. Meanwhile, Macchu was applying balm to his crusty lips while Frank started nibbling on a snack: grilled puppy legs. Bacchu nudged Frank and spoke in their common language, a combination of wet snapping sounds and groans. Im hungry, too. Give me some. 17 Jordan Krall Ahh, get your own, you lazy dickhole. Frank stuck a whole puppy leg into his mouth and started to grind the flesh and bone with his teeth. Bacchu snapped his claws in anger and walked away. Meanwhile, Macchu was in silent meditation, contemplating the sex scene that he had just finished masturbating to. Watching humans abuse their orifices always made him contemplative. He was used to a world where bodies were sliced, diced, chopped, opened, and fucked as often as the wind blew. These things were not dirty, taboo acts as they were in this world. Humans were so uptight about what they called sex: one or more body parts going in and out of a wet hole. It was all the same with just minute variations. Macchu had concluded that it was the psychological part that got humans aroused. A human face brought tiny shards of memory that went undetected except by the subconscious. Humans werent aware of it, but each arousal was not only based on what they saw, heard, or touched at the present moment but also what their minds brought forth in a hidden deluge of memory. Perhaps the high cheekbones of that porn star reminded one of a childhood crush or a babysitter. Maybe the long eyelashes and thin lips of the hooker brought memories of a second cousin who once revealed her cleavage at a family barbeque. Regardless, all arousal could theoretically be traced back to a handful of blunt memories that were carved into the mind of each human. Max instructed the girl to take the Cthulhu out of her body and dip it into the bowl of chocolate syrup on the coffee table. She did so but grimaced when he told her to lick it off. With his finger he made a slicing motion across his neck. Do it, he mouthed. She followed his direction. Max stopped recording. Im getting tired, lets finish this up tomorrow. Macchu was still sitting quietly, thinking. He knew that there were finite combinations of human forms. That is why, in his 18 Piecemeal June world, these forms are combined to make myriad combinations to construct new bodies for maximum physical pleasure. Though he himself masturbated to the limited form of this young girl inserting things into her asshole, Macchu saw this as a simple pleasure. It was akin to a jaded pornographer watching an old stag film; it was simple and quaint. The commotion of Bacchu and Frank turned into an abrupt din of wet slapping and Macchu was shaken out of his meditative state. The other two were now physically fighting over the scraps of a puppy. Max would often scour the neighborhood for stray pups but lately he had been lax and so this delicacy was in limited supply. Macchu grunted and made his way over to the fracas. Will you two please stop this juvenile bullshit? Frank snapped a claw in Macchus face. You should mind your business, asscunt. He snapped the other claw an inch away from Bacchus nose. And you. You watch yourself. Max walked in. What the fucks goin on in here? That bitch was starting to get paranoid, thought I had some gangster drug shit goin on in the backroom. His eyes went over to a small stringy puddle of brown pus left by Macchu. I told you guys to clean up after yourselves. Jesus. Sorry, boss. Bacchu said in broken, grating English. Max shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes. He dug into his pocket, took out a twenty-dollar bill, rolled it up, and sniffed up the pus into his left nostril. For the next thirty minutes Max was not in the presence of the three creatures. Each layer of his consciousness was stripped away like an onion and laid to rest in the homeland of Macchu, Bacchu, and Frank. Max watched the bearded Women of the Gati as they gathered load upon load of body parts, still quivering with some sort of life. One of those parts, a huge penis with stringy gray hairs poking out, throbbed in tiny spasms. Max thought of Milton Berle. He thought of Uncle Miltie playing Louie the Lilac 19 Jordan Krall on the 1960s Batman television series. Pow! Bam! A bearded woman picked up the penis and shoved the tip of it into her mouth and twirling it like a lollipop. The other women laughed. Wham! Zap! Zowie! Max saw Uncle Miltie shoving a foot-long fish down his own throat and coughing up tiny crab shells in the process. In the distance, Max saw the walls of Om-Am, the fabled pink city. Through sheer force of psychonavigation, he saw within the city, watched as arms, legs, and genitals were bought and sold in the marketplace. Bags of teeth were carried around and used for everything from filling in potholes to the construction of sex toys. Men sat in alleyways, masturbating with severed tongues that still salivated and, in a way, still held a portion of the consciousness of its original owner. At the center of Om-Am was a small but formidable fortress with four minarets in the shape of uncircumcised penises. This was the home of Simon, God of Whores. Max felt fear spike through the layers of his awareness. A child carrying a basket full of noses ran across the front yard of the fortress. This child, neither boy nor girl, possessed two vaginas, one on its hip and another on its left knee. It also possessed three penises, one on each shoulder and one between its legs. The child brought the basket over to a small pond and proceeded to feed the small fish. The fish themselves even possessed small human sex organs. Each one of them had a clitoris for a fin. They swam furiously in order to grab a good, tasty nose preferably one with many nose hairs for they, the fish, found that the hairs tickled their insides in a rather orgasmic way. Max was drawn back, layer by layer, into reality. He was lying in bed in between Macchu and Frank. Bacchu was at the foot of the bed. They must have carried him in during his trip. Thanks, guys, he whispered, Goodnight. 20 CHAPTER FOUR Kevin went to work the following day. It was difficult for him to keep his mind on the already boring work so each task took great effort. Toward the end of his shift, his friend Ryan came trotting in to visit. He was a teachers assistant but had dreams of being an indie rock star. While Kevin was bagging up some canned dog food, he saw Ryan, in a Big Black t-shirt, make his way behind the counter. Man, I told you, you cant come back here, Kevin instinctively looked around for the manager. Reginas gonna get pissed off. Ryan laughed. Dont worry about it. Im leaving in a second. I tried calling your cell phone but it went to voice mail. Wanna hang out tonight? He made eye contact with the customer whose dog food Kevin had just finished bagging. The customer, a heavyset old man, shook his head in disapproval and walked away. I dont think so, not tonight. Why....anything special? And I thought youre seeing whats-her-name? Kevin wanted to pretend that he didnt really know or care that his friend was fucking one of his students. She was of legal age but ethically, Kevin didnt think it was such a great idea. From how Ryan described her, this girl Sara had deep emotional problems and Kevin knew it could only end in disaster. But if there was one thing he learned from being friends with Ryan is that you dont criticize his decisions. Thats when the claws come out. 21 Jordan Krall Ryan avoided eye contact. Nah, Im not seeing her tonight. I have band practice at six and I thought we can meet up at the Rams Head at, like, nine. He fiddled with some rawhide sticks that were on the counter. So, how about it? Kevin ran his hand through his hair. Um, I dont know if Im gonna feel up to it. Been just sort of tired all day and Im just going to go home and chill out. But Mushy has a fight this weekend if you want to meet up. Mushy was an amateur boxer who used to date Kevins sister. There was a horrible break-up and Mushy had his heart broken. Kevin empathized with him and had kept in touch, always showing up to support Mushy when he fought. Eh, you know Im not into that boxing shit. Ryan started walking towards the door. Whatever, well catch each other some other time. See you later. Yeah, alright, later. Kevin was on the verge of getting pissed off. Ryan was an okay guy but lacked that something that made friendships worthwhile. He didnt know exactly what it was but Ryans abrupt exit was an example of it. Oh well, Kevin thought, Im out of here in a half hour and then Ill be alone, hallelujah . When he was ready to leave Regina, the manager, called him into her office. He noticed something different as soon as he saw her. Kevin had never really looked at her sexually, though he admitted she was a rather attractive middle-aged Spanish woman. But Kevin rather held a sort of socialist view on the situation. She was the boss and was someone to hate, the entity that oppressed the people. Today, however, he couldnt help but feel some tension. Everyday without fail she came dressed in a skirt, pantyhose, and a flimsy blouse and today it really sent something rushing through Kevin, like a warm buzz of tingly pudding. Regina babbled on with rhetoric and rhetorical questions while Kevin stole glances of her pantyhose and scuffed black slip- 22 Piecemeal June on dress shoes. He wondered if they were sweaty. Like a slap in the face, the image of the disembodied foot worked his nerves up into frenzied nervousness. Was she aware that he was looking down every few seconds? Would she say something? The ankle and foot at his house now belonged to Regina. Kevin mentally transposed those pieces onto her body and started to imagine what her sweat would smell and taste like compared to Ms. Booths. Were the pantyhose freshly washed or was she wearing them for a while? Would her feet have an additional vinegar stench? Were her toenails painted like the foot at home? Kevin looked into Reginas eyes and hoped to see the same blue swirls of the glass eye but was met with a dull brown that stopped him dead in his tracks. Kevin, are you listening? Whats the matter? She straightened her skirt. He could feel his penis becoming flushed and the pair of pants he was wearing was going to make his erection quite obvious. What? Nothing, no, why? He started