by David Kempf
The few cases of pedophiles he saw were not necessarily proof of guilt of crimes against children but he still told the police about what he had witnessed. All participants in his sexual program had to sign a waiver that he could do such things.
***
Terrible thoughts raced through Harvey’s conflicted mind. When he was skinny, he was not only close to coming out of the closet but he was happier. This fat man persona to hide his true sexual identity was borderline psychotic. When he was in college, he came close to getting his ass kicked quite a few times. He would hit on other men, straight men for the most part. They did not reciprocate and he had to turn to men he thought were effeminate and promiscuous. It was either them or jerking off or women.
His self-loathing led to delusions and the absurd idea that every other man was secretly gay, too. Harvey had a serious projection problem. Then he really went off the deep end and married Sue. It made his parents happy and he was living like a straight man. He was fat. He was miserable.
Being fat had some advantages. Some things were not accepted in the community. There was nothing worse, no bigger sign of being a loser than being gay and fat. Well, being gay and bald was also a huge no no. The worst sin of all, the queen of all-evil was to be old…
What’s old?
Thirty?
Yes.
Forty?
Hell yes!
Fifty?
Three strikes, you’re out of the community, you’re an outcast!
***
When Harvey woke up the next day, he watched the video produced by his subconscious mind. He wasn’t upset. He was traumatized worse than Sue had ever seen him before.
“Now you know,” said Harvey.
“I’ve always known,” Sue answered.
“Christ, you’re a God damn fag hag, not a wife!”
“I love you.”
“Oh, God!”
“I’ve always loved you, Harvey.”
“There are no bigger losers than these women who throw themselves at men they damn well know are gay. Well, except for those of us who try to seduce straight guys and always fail!”
“I don’t care about sex.”
“I guess not, Sue, you married me.”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes filled with tears.
***
Sue stepped slowly into the gloomy room. The man looked like a dream from the dark forbidden waters of her unconscious mind. He was handsome and he looked like the perfect combination of sweet and mean. She knew he would treat her just right. He was wearing a mask to try and frighten her or was he trying to excite her?
The room wasn’t well lit and it was hard to tell whether it was night or day. There were no windows in the room. She was frightened and sexually aroused at the same time. She even wished that there were peeping Toms secretly watching her from somewhere.
Sue wondered what the face of the man looked like behind that black mask. He might be handsome or hideous. She had a feeling that the sum of his sexual experiences would make Caligula and the Marquis de Sade blush. They might even be puritanical by comparison. She took off her clothes in front of the stranger. She was about to remove her stockings but he gestured for her to leave them on. They were a nice white color that would make her soon to be red ass really stick out. Her torturer was about to get medieval on her ass and she was going to really enjoy it.
She faced the wall but turned her head just a bit, to be a little naughty. The so-called Triple ’S’ Club had quite a variety of toys. She spotted several on the wall and already began to feel aroused between her legs. The Triple S Club… Secret Society of Sadists…
She wanted desperately to show her slutty side.
Sadly, her husband didn’t share this view. She thought about him and felt sad. Then she looked on the wall and felt excited. She knew what she was in for.
“Face the wall, bitch.”
“Yes, sir,” Sue answered.
Sue was a supervisor. A supervisor in a human services agency who was known for being strict and ruling her office with an iron fist. In the Triple S. Club, she loved not being in control for a change. She felt the man’s heavy breath on her neck. It was time for someone else to be in charge.
It was time for her tormentor to show her who was boss. The first thing he used was his hand. He spanked her bottom and it hurt but God was it a good hurt for her. She was always a secret masochist. She counted to a hundred and her butt was sore as hell. Sue began to weep from the pain but she could tell the sadist behind her was not moved by her tears.
“Now the paddle,” he said.
“Yes,” she answered.
That was a mistake. She should have known to only speak when spoken to. It was really as simple as that. The man behind the mask spanked her a hundred more times for speaking. Now she was sobbing.
“Now the paddle,” he said.
Silence and tears…
The paddle was almost unbearable. It had that stupid ’Slut’ on the rear side of it. One could see the word ’slut’ on her sore, red, blistering bottom. She began to cry uncontrollably.
“I hope that you have a taste for the whip.”
She was silent. She was terrified.
“I know that I do,” said the masked sadist.
The waiting for the first crack of the whip was splendid. She was so conscious of the terrible punishment coming her way; she almost fainted before she felt the first sting of the whip. The Gothic atmosphere of doom and gloom added an almost romantic quality to an experience that was very far from romance.
She did hear the first crack of the whip but that was it. She passed out from the pain after one or two lashes. When she woke up, she had realized that she probably had multiple orgasms during this horrific experience. This was more like sheer torture rather than erotic party games. Sue was very embarrassed that she was so turned on by watching the flesh on her backside torn apart. Sue looked at her butt and realized it was a bloody mess. She was so ashamed and yet a terrible part of her wanted to be tortured all over again, this very instant.
If they only knew… the wicked depth of her true desires.
Her husband didn’t know.
On some level, even she didn’t know.
No one knew….
***
“Well, I guess everyone will know about me sooner or later,” Sue said.
“Not necessarily,” Dr. Hyde answered.
“Christ, you’re a pervert,” Harvey said.
“Shut up Nancy boy,” Sue answered.
The man she married was the lonely one. He was forced to live a lie that was revealed in his subconscious porno short. Now here was the missus revealing her own her erotic fantasies. At least Harvey’s dream had some high production values. Her fantasy was like a damned snuff movie. Her sick idea of intimacy was little more than torture porn.
“Well, there is a lot going on in your head, evidently,” said Dr. Hyde.
“Obviously, Doc,” Sue answered.
The lonely one, Harvey, began to weep. They were perhaps the most fucked up couple who ever attended the prestigious Donnis University.
“What now?” Sue asked.
“We need to analyze your data in our central system.”
“Yeah, okay, sure,” she answered.
“You found my book, that one time, didn’t you?” asked the lonely man who was trapped in a closet.
“Yes,” answered his wife.
“Do you remember what the name of that book was?” he asked her.
“Sadly, I do.”
“Well?”
“How to Pick up Straight Guys….”
“Yes.”
“Do you know that I saw your books as well?” he asked his wife.
“No,” she answered him.
The two lonely people who lived the same life year after year were a tragedy. It was not just a false marriage; it was a God forsaken mirage. Marriage. Mirage. They damn near sounded the same.
“A Taste for the Whip,” Harvey sai
d.
“That’s the one,” Sue answered.
Harvey grimaced with disgust.
“When will the data or whatever the fuck be analyzed?” asked Sue.
“Tomorrow,” he answered.
“Don’t call me that, doc.”
“Sorry.”
How funny it really all was. She stood up for herself like she wasn’t a pushover. She was far worse. She was born to be an almost perfect masochist.
What a day tomorrow would be. The actual outcomes of the data were not exactly as the bizarre married couple thought… They signed themselves into a very unenviable position. Dr. Hyde had no real intention of saving their marriage or mirage. The ultimate goal was to turn the world’s most secret sexual fantasies into internet porn. Porn for profit and his subjects received the low sum of zero dollars in compensation for all of their secret carnal dreaming.
So much for all of that flesh for cash stuff…
“Your fantasy is the one of the more perverse and selfish ones we’ve seen in some time,” Dr. Hyde said.
“Are you speaking to me or my wife?” Harvey asked.
“Actually, you’re wife, Harvey.”
“I see,” said the scorned husband.
The doctor patted Harvey on the back. “It’s big business, Harvey. The horror and humiliation of these dark fantasies is backed up by corporate lawyers who would take employers for everything they could if any of our patients lost employment. Bizarre sexual fantasies and secrets were not against the law!”
“It’s true,” said the nurse. “Dr. Hyde hired me because you know he liked what my subconscious revealed to him.”
“We’ve had some interesting dates,” Dr. Hyde said.
“Sure have, honey,” she said with a giggle.
“What will happen to us now?” Harvey pondered.
Sue thought their lives were over but life had a way of always going on. Their lives were irreversibly changed forever.
The strange couple found they were embarrassed and humiliated almost beyond comprehension. Their terrible erotic images all over the internet for all to see would be shocking… Men lost a hell of a lot of respect for Sue in the workplace. Harvey, who was a gynecologist, witnessed a huge increase in patients he saw.
***
“What now?” Mrs. Johnson asked.
“Do you want to see my cock?” Harvey asked.
“What?”
They found themselves in the bedroom again and all this voyeurism was having an unforeseen sexual effect on them. All of this humiliating attention got Harvey pretty horny. Sue’s pussy got all wet for her big, dumb gay husband. There was this terrible, secret part of Harvey that was aroused not only by a woman but also by his own wife.
“I don’t believe it, sweetheart but I really want to fuck you now,” Harvey said.
Sue blushed and quickly got undressed for her husband.
“Here’s looking at you, kid!” Harvey said.
“Thanks, baby. Let’s fuck….”
“Sorry, Sue.”
“For what?” she asked.
“I was talking to my cock.”
10
The Last One
By Sarah Nolan
Emily was like any drug. Not just a drug, a damned good one. C.D. Little knew if he took another hit, it could be fatal.
What was the old song? Yes, Addicted to Love, the old Robert Palmer song.
He was addicted to love and for C.D. there was no cure.
“What?”
“I wouldn’t be with you if you were the last person on earth,” said Emily Cleese. She was a lovely girl, around twenty-five years old. She had beautiful long black hair and heart breaking brown eyes. A killer body, too. One didn’t have to tell the little man that. He knew all about it.
“You should at least consider it,” answered C.D.
“Hell, no. If I date you, I might kiss you, if I kiss you I might let you touch me and that might lead to…”
“Yes?” he asked enthusiastically.
“Nothing,” she answered him.
“What?”
“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last one on the damned planet. Understand, jackass?”
***
The met as freshmen at Connolly College.
William Butler Yeats had fewer problems with Maud Gonne. True, he got to have his way with her except when it came to walking to the altar. Then she had her way with him.
The Little man had a truly one-sided arrangement with Emily. When the countless boyfriends she had dispensed with her, unappreciated, her feeling used, there was always one schmuck she could call. His name was C.D. Little, her friend. Yes, Charles David Little, Emily’s fool.
“Maybe you could give a nice guy a chance,” he often said.
“Maybe,” she said.
Then it was back to the merry go round of insanity.
“Maybe,” she said.
“Really, you mean it?” he would ask.
“Who knows?”
The girl could lie. He had to give her that.
“He used me,” she often said, referring to some she’d been dating.
“How?”
“I don’t want to talk about it…”
C.D.’s fantasies filled his mind. Sometimes he would masturbate for hours thinking of the things that Emily would do with other men. Did she suck their dicks? Did she swallow? How many men had been down on her? How many men got to fuck her for hours? How many used condoms were thrown out in the trashcan in her dorm?
C.D. tortured himself with these images.
Then he would have second thoughts.
This was not about sex to him, this all about good old-fashioned romantic love.
Yes, the delusion of true love still existed in his mind.
C.D. remained a virgin all through college.
That was no way to win a popularity contest and unless you go to a Mormon college, your social life looks bleak…
The dream was always the same. Little would beg and plead with Emily to give him a kiss, to put her tongue that had sucked many a Connolly College cock on to his innocent and profoundly lonely one.
What a fucking show.
The audience consisted simply of her former lovers. All of the college’s men who had their way (and often her way) with her never stuck around.
The men, the others, who did not love her but were simply enamored with lust over her striking sexuality, filled the seats of the theater. Amazing and frightening. They watched, some mocking him, aside from a few with good hearts who took pity on a pitiful fool.
The Little man was bewitched by Emily’s knock out sensuous beauty. He was a happy slave. If she ever did go with him, he would take her back a thousand times from the arms of a thousand men who would use her at will. This young man was a fool in love. Emily was a drug and he would never be rehabilitated.
He was not having a jolly time, not in this humiliating nightmare.
The men laughed.
“Please kiss me!”
The audience roared with laughter, hatred and occasionally… pity….
“Please kiss me!”
The audience started to laugh; any sympathy for the fool was fading…
“What about my sister?” Emily asked.
Her sister Julia weighed almost four hundred pounds.
“What about her?” he asked.
“She’s lonely and pathetic like you…”
The hilarity of the audience was almost too much to bear.
“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last one… the last man on earth!”
She kissed C.D. She finally went and did it. It was not marvelous but it was forbidden in her subconscious to kiss a loser who was always a means to end one could torment. It was a pity kiss. This was nothing to worry about. It was only a bad and humiliating dream.
“This is a pity kiss,” Emily said.
The real nightmare was when C.D. woke up and he did this quickly. The world had changed. It was not the same world that
had Emily humiliate him and feed his broken heart to the jackals who used her to get off….
The Neffs!
Charles was about to have his day (or night).
The Neffs!
They had their day first!
Charles David Little remembered when the meteor showers were announced and it was all over the news. Connolly College had a great view from on top of its older, higher buildings. He and Emily would sit and watch them. Less than a month later, the news broadcast that the planet had changed.
The Neffs!
The plant creatures; looked like shrubberies and were all male. They would use females to reproduce other Neffs. Then, in what seemed to be a Neffs tradition, the so called baby would devour its mother after she gave birth to it. Soon the news stopped. These plants had huge cocks and fucked the hell out of college girls when they knocked them up. Emily witnessed this horror and fascination from afar. So did the Little man. It didn’t take long for these things to come. They usually came for three days (and nights) at the end of the month. Emily and C.D. both learned that if one pretended to be still, the Neffs would mistake you for something else and move on.
***
“Good job with the generator,” Emily said.
“Thanks.”
“It’s fun to live where the dean used to live, isn’t it?” he asked her.
“Whatever.”
“What?” he asked her.
“Did you see anything on television?”
“Emily,” he said, starring at her nipples, down her blouse, “there hasn’t even been a sound on the radio for days.” He licked his lips.
“Oh,” she answered.
“You know, honey…”
“Fuck you!”
“Exactly,” he exclaimed.
“Just because….”
“We’re the last two people on earth, baby?”
“Yes,” she said with disgust. Then she saw where his eyes were looking. There were stacks of books behind her in the library where they were sitting. Nevertheless, books were not on the pathetic perv’s mind this evening.
