Strange Landscape

by Tony Duvert

  you knew her then huh?

  naw but she must have belonged to those gypsies that come past here every year the ones that killed you know that big cat belonging to Lulu’s mother

  all the same it’s not exactly like killing some cat Claude murmurs don’t you think we should go and tell somebody?

  you’re a real fuckhead you are for some little cunt like this? there’s sure to be all kinds of shit hitting the fan maybe even an investiga Bernard shrugs continues to poke the tiny creature with a stick if he were alone now maybe he could

  crouching behind a hedge trying not to let his head be seen Lulu waddles along the path suddenly tripped kicked from behind I’m going to take all his bread then beat it Bernard thinks I suppose I don’t really dare kill him René shoves his cock all the way up into the ass hole yanks her hair and the tiny child sobbing twisting René shot his load into that tight tunnel got soft got hard shot once more bony little buttocks not at all smooth or rounded to the touch to capture one like this entirely for one’s self you have to keep a sharp eye out along the river’s edge for when they send the tiniest of the lot down there to refill the bucket I tie my victim in my cabin standing him erect stretching her arms out pulling his legs apart to eat her pussy suck him dry pulling down her bloomers ripping his briefs I bind my victim René starts whacking off grits his teeth whole body shuddering as if in great pain the slit beneath the corded fabric smells of piss the surrounding flesh dark brown curly black hairs sticking up like weeds René seeing them grows wild swirling whorl ear-shaped of dark hairs black forest he shaves off erases effaces this merkin the belly smooth sleek once more yes we show it our cocks it’s either scared or joyous for it has certainly opened wider we advance toward it cocks in hand hoses we are all standing around her keep our own briefs on even when we shove it against her and something suddenly punctures nail of an index finger piercing the aluminum cap of a milk bottle finger withdrawing covered with thick white goo but a membrane far more fragile taut as sausage casing explodes when pierced like a balloon I shove my prick now all the way in it strains gives way and I am inside a tunnel fucking it exactly like I fuck that other long tunnel that opens out between the buttocks meadows down there by the bridge René notices a gypsy caravan the little girl arms outspread as on a crucifix so much blood he can see it in his mind as a thick puree bright red and granular or jam pressed from ripe raspberries my cock buried up to the hilt and both her thighs besmeared with red eggs that her vulva has vomited the other guy doesn’t just stand there watching either he begins burrowing into René’s ass that René’s certainly been asking for it no matter what he says René shifting his own cock one part emerging from her groin the other boring up into her ass a single prick René’s but divided into two sections like some hinged fishing rod he forgets all about the boy behind him there’s only his own cock now he hasn’t even taken the time to get undressed first his belt his shirt buttons scratching the child’s belly and his cock deeper and deeper inside her is sucked dry by those swollen cunt lips faded bloomers drooping down around her knees cunt shaken jolted but sucking continuously

  chevrons inverted V tire tracks superimposed above the circular markings of a squashed snake dead +

  leaves gray and brown acorn cupules transformed into pipes bore a hole into their sides then shove in a twig best of all if the twig is hollowed out first then you can really smoke leaves the little kids collect chestnut husks leaves and pine needles fashioning collars bracelets tall pointed hats indian headdresses swirling musketeer capes hooded cloaks the cars that pass this way crush hundreds of tiny moles mice even woodchucks and skunks that the flies and ants eviscerate then abandon weariness of walking miles and miles upon white unpaved roads bumpy outcroppings chalky stones stabbing into the soles of sneakers a girl’s name Adorée Adored One but they nickname her Dory or else Ada just like their cook Claudette they always called Dedette Her name’s Adorée Claude admitted rather shamefacedly he’s been seeing her all along and Yann’s lips begin to tremble because he’s still only a kid and cannot yet control his tears he tells himself that Claude and he because of that Adorée Claude and he will never again she’s fifteen Claude’s girl dumpy potbellied fat round cheeks all four of them a slight hint of dark fuzz already fringing her upper lip she wears imitation pearl earrings and Claude and she make babies every time they get together making them forward and aft both holes Yann receives all this information impatiently trying to think of some way of supplanting the cunt Bernard listening also jealous also claims Big deal I see my mother bare-assed all the time and that’s even better enormous thighs mottled like marble cloven there where the cunt swells rust-colored curls earthquake tremors whenever she walks huge saggy tits across the room Boy has she got some ass my ma! Bernard suddenly starts pawing himself all over along with the rest of us and his mother all whipped cream climbs there enters between his thighs Listen don’t go out anymore with that Adada or Dory or whatever you call her Claude whispers Yann hoping Bernard won’t hear

  curling chips of bark masses of vegetation fruits both green and ripe humid mossy groves footpaths breaking off from the chalky road tiny forms disappearing darting field animals woodland creatures fleeing images and pictures in a schoolbook night darkness falling voices calling come in for supper smell of smoke rising straight up in that windless air from chimneys all sounds carrying great distances in the hushed twilight that colors everything blue cool moist breathing in deeply happily all that blueness I never venture out anymore during this hour I play all alone and the oncoming night making me so drowsy I can remember if they’ve beat me or not when I hear them snoring I know it’s finally over and then I can relax what’s more I can dream imagine how I will someday grow so big so tall but I won’t use it to frighten anyone there are too many of them already cowards running loose even in the city as much as here despite all those people all those walls to hinder them they will all at least leave here all of them and when I won’t know any of them except the newcomers those who came after me then I will have to leave also in René’s gang this year there’s a kid named Justin (but they usually call him Tintin or Tiny) and another called Innocent (but we call him either Ninny or Guilty) I don’t like us from the chateau palling around with all those village hicks hoods but whatever Claude decides I do even if it only makes me more scared than ever to inhabit the boudoir of some fine lady to sleep nights on her divan velvet so soft everything red and gold to remain hidden there loved unnoticed protected have all my meals brought in on a tea trolley to eat sleep be hugged and kissed that would be something that’d last and Claude would be here with me like before Yann is already drowning in such dreams trying not to sniffle

  no boobs really just two tiny buttons where the skin has been trussed up to form a fat crease only Bernard dares touch he squeezes those two tender intact points the flesh surrounding smells of putrid fuck rancid and cheesy he likes that though you wouldn’t think her a dead thing too young to be dead pelvic bones protruding like those on some starving heifer belly sunken a clot of green snot growing from one nostril like an asparagus shoot and those two eyes still open still black and white Tiny giggles If we tickle her tits she might wake up he’s one of the guys who violated her while she still struggled the soles of her feet a promenade deck for newly hatched snails shells and flesh equally diaphanous tapering tails malignant feelers flicking they move slimily within the rough ridges yellowed calluses she must have walked barefoot most of the time to conceal the cadaver they turn over the dinghy right side up and the child strapped to the hull suddenly disappears beneath they all pile in it’s resilient now the gentle pitching from side to side makes one of them even a bit seasick gets another all excited the legs of the little girl sticking out rigidly one on each side of the bow no more snails they’ve fallen off as the boat rocks back and forth over her waving green sea three children riding her

  but suppose she wasn’t quite dead? Yann keeps asking over and over and if that Adorée were only dead instead he pul
ls off her false pearls the freed earlobes springing back curling like snails resilient he places her silly baubles upon his own lovelier ears sitting before a mirror I’m prettier than your shitty Ada Claude speaking softly to himself with the accents of some highborn lady mistress of the manor I killed her Claude yes I killed her they found her lying there in the church square near where the town well is her drunken old pop says Too bad just when I was hoping to get to fuck her myself their parents are just like our clients if somebody kills us nobody gives a damn once we’re dead

  you can see her feet sticking out from under they’re all green

  yeah we’d better take her somewhere away from here toss her downstream maybe the gypsy child is so tiny so frail not having yet reached puberty but Adorée is alive and fat already suffers from the curse Claude says bitches all of them cunts who suck asses cocks devourers of men Claude so distant and different since he’s been fucking that old hole of hers red with her monthly reds but he doesn’t quite forget Yann What do you say I find you some chick in town too? he asks Yann making a face No I don’t need any of your town chicks I don’t want anybody but and he dashes off again sobbing whimpering

  she would be about the same age as this little wild gypsy thing Yann thinks he could marry her they would have the both of them pale white pricks high thin voices not yet cracking into adolescence they would live on wild strawberries green apples green grapes apricots so yellow and hard grains of wheat chewed into a gummy mash that tastes of straw and flour living on wild blackberries mulberries both their faces stained with ruby juice knees scraped raw by thorns Yann abandoned tells himself he ought to adopt some younger kid as his asshole buddy and make love to him just like one of the bigger guys since Claude

  but I don’t have any hair down there I could show him Yann is dreaming already a bit consoled as he imagines for himself a young kid all tanned and golden with a grave air not interested like Claude in cunts but who sends his toy trains speeding across the dormitory floor without even bothering to lay down tracks first or else maybe someday if he asked me to help him grease his engines Yann the mechanic the master shipbuilder knows all about such things

  I swear it honest I don’t have any money on me cross my heart Lulu turns out both trouser pockets Don’t give me that shit with all the stuff they hand you fatso cunt says Bernard But I bought a submachine gun with it Then let’s see it fatso It’s not here it’s back home Well then if you haven’t any bread steal some how about your old lady huh Are you crazy suppose she caught me Hell you can always wiggle your way out of it I’m warning you fatso I expect ten francs by tonight or else I’ll spill everything and that means everything at their regular rendezvous after supper that evening Lulu arrives stomach still heavy from all that swiss chard and grated cheese looking very anxious Bernard is relaxing smoking a cigarette down by the bridge he has his pocket flashlight the one decorated with decals of dragons flashes the light straight into Lulu’s blinking eyes Fork it over fatso There’s only five What do you mean five Five I wasn’t able to steal any this is from my own piggy bank Fork it over then you dirty lying creep are you sure you haven’t got any more stashed away somewhere? Honest Bernard if I had I promise I’d give it to you

  feel this then go on suck

  oh it stinks so bad

  can the shit and suck no not here too open we’d better go down there Lulu grows hard he’s still hoping that maybe tonight Bernard will perhaps they move down the dark meadow cloud shadows cutting until they reach the riverbank Bernard pants pants already down around his ankles orders Lulu Lie there on your back and shut your eyes now open your mouth he moves closer with his flashlight I said shut your eyes fatso faggot

  all right

  now you won’t open them again until I tell you right?

  right Bernard squatting above Lulu plunges his cock down the kid’s throat then takes it out again he sits down hard upon that fat frightened face and grunts Lulu smells something at last understands struggles but the tip of the turd has already smeared his nose his forehead even his mop of hair he gasps breaks loose runs down to wash himself off in the stream Bernard calmly finishes his labors the whole turd finally emerging he laughs loudly hunting around in the shadowy grass for some leaves to wipe himself off with calling out to Lulu who refuses to answer Hey cuntface if I ever see you again I’ll smash all your teeth in I swear it

  Lulu body turned to jelly cannot fall asleep his heart feels too cramped within his chest somebody just tossed a pebble against his window he can guess who the window opens the assassin enters tomorrow to tell Marco about it that young guy who drives the delivery van for the institution he always stops at the grocery-store-and-cafe whenever he’s forgotten to buy something back there in the city Marco pinched my ass once so he should protect me now Lulu lies there Marco in his mind following him down into the cellar a flickering candle that makes his own chubby forearms glow setting all those shiny black bottles to dancing and the young man’s dark face he’s a Corsican or maybe an Italian wet lips sneering as always tiny ferrety eyes of someone not quite right in the head but all the same his perhaps very thick long fat cock battering for exit against his fly Lulu’s bedsheet rises straight up there’s already a new pleat in it caused by that sudden wetness what will his mother say tomorrow if she notices

  they form a circle around the doll they decided to christen Adorée it’s a life-sized mannequin she hangs down from one of the attic beams two planks nailed crosswise form her bust and arms and two planks in an inverted V her two legs Adorée’s head is a beach ball covered with coral lacquer and stuffed with old rags eyes mother-of-pearl blazer buttons mouth scarlet felt nose a wine cork trimmed slightly to lend it a saucier more retroussé air coiffure consisting of various colored strands of knitting yarn green yellow mottled maroon gray blue they’ve also padded the planks nailing onto them bundles of old clothes until the breasts are both almost the same size legs thick like pillars bulging pelvis bulging buttocks she is decked out in old finery but without a hat because of the thick rope that winds across her head padded torso clothed in one of Dedette the cook’s old blouses handstitched lace white linen pointed collar drooping down over each breast and white linen cuffs with similar lace trimming a long ruffled skirt of bluest silk shimmering over those sausage legs swathed in beige woolen stockings that end in two tiny shiny pointed black ankle boots that the kids have waxed until they can see the reflection of their faces in that patent leather and they have also fashioned barbaric jewelry from bits of tin foil colored glass all that’s missing are fingers and hands Claude is still up there on the stepladder adding the finishing touches arranging her hair into curls

  and look you guys she can really move too the plank forming the two horizontal shoulderless arms is able to rotate on its nail Claude gives it a push and Adorée becomes one of those wooden mechanical birds arms revolving legs moving apart then coming together heels clicking

  hey let’s see how she looks underneath! cries Yann all excited and Claude upholsterer-cum-couturier ceremoniously lifts the shimmering blue a baby pink nightdress comes into view and all the boys together let out a collective woooooooooow! Claude prouder than ever calls out Now watch this! slowly he lifts the baby pink and beneath clinging tightly to both sausage-thick thighs is a pair of silk elastic bloomers that bulge provocatively at the groin then tighten at the knees all the boys gasping aaaaaaaaah! And now for the pièce de resistance Claude shouts somebody holding the various skirts while he yanks down the silk bloomers there’s a pair of nylon boy’s briefs bottle-green stretched too tightly over the pelvis he yanks those down too and ooooooooooooh! loooooooooooook! Claude has fashioned a big round hole in the plank with dog hair stitched carefully all around its rim

  but doesn’t she have an asshole to fuck?

  I didn’t make a real ass it’s too hard to do

  oh well but we can shove it in there at least?

  well see for yourself says Claude the mannequin dangles from a corner of the room within a
tiny recess behind the door it’s easy to close off this niche from the rest of the attic by sliding some curtains along a makeshift clothesline but Adorée is still too high in the air for anybody to fuck unless he climbs onto a chair first and all the while he goes at it he has to hold on tightly like some monkey shinnying up a coconut tree while he shoves it in the little kids suggest that if the rope were attached better they could at least have a nice swing or maybe considering those planks a seesaw

  all afternoon Bernard wanders through the streets Lulu at loose ends doesn’t dare venture outside he stares at his bowlegs and pinches his squishy haunches slipping into his parents’ bedroom to gaze at himself in the mirror behind the armoire door he takes off all his clothes grabs that spare tire around his waist with both hands and begins kneading it pulling at the fat covering his buttocks as well he’s a sorry sight a regular lard-ass he knows it and yet he never stops feeling hungry no matter how many snacks he’s had he stares into the mirror making faces menacing that ugly fatso, fairy facing him feints throwing punches squints turns up his nose pushing it up against the fly-specked glass wiggles both ears performs a wild native dance with much belly movement moaning groaning spreading wide his lower cheeks and then all out of breath notices lying there next to the night bowl and pitcher his mother’s make-up he takes some lipstick runs over to the mirror again and feverishly begins tracing muscles all over his chest arms abdomen biceps flexors extensors pectorals admiring his torso all checkered now with thick red sinews of lines sucking in his belly squaring both shoulders eyebrows knitted lips pursed double chin jiggling from all that effort he breathes in deeply and those false red muscles ripple mother’s footsteps climbing the stairs hastily Lulu pulls on his short pants buttoning his shirt but in the wrong holes trying frantically to hide his briefs and undershirt rolling them up into a ball tucking them inside his fly abnormal swelling like Marco’s the lipstick tube has rolled oh Jesus where when his mother enters