Strange Landscape

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Strange Landscape Page 23

by Tony Duvert


  , in the infirmary for eight days they took care of his ass cured it he whacked off nonstop that helped him forget the pain bed all furrowed curving downward in its center like a hammock springs squeaking as he went at it wildly they were all a bit ashamed oh not about his masturbating but about his poor bleeding ass

  he shouldn’t have stolen all kids steal it’s due to their innocence when they grew tired of them they were tossed off the height of a cliff they fell revolving slowly all the way to the sea with one long cry like the cry of a bird of prey and among the waves down there so deep and darkly green their bodies so rapidly swallowed up hardly leave the froth of a trace

  they hadn’t bodies they looked each other in the eyes their little hearts pulsed within tiny white chests oh so white they carved them up with knives bones bursting blood gushing they rummaged around inside those cavities both hands drowned in redness searching exploring within all those bodies slashed but still living

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  a quarter of an hour’s walking time to reach the breakwater by way of the rocks above the beach following the path that leads past the old customhouse they went that way because of the donkey rides and the crepes they rode those asses eating lacy paper-thin pancakes sprinkled all over with sugar oh that was fun

  to follow that narrow clayey strand which turning away from the shore rises up in a long line of dunes undulating embankments of tall swaying grasses mixed with black seaweed spiral wrack the storms toss up then spreading out broad and flat once more the sand dryer cleaner here where a gray cement blockhouse squats painted inscriptions charcoal graffiti covering all of its walls names dates drawn bodies hanging from sinister gallows stiff spindly children match-stick figures frozen forever in their agony like flies in a spider’s web a meeting place for kids or lovers without a bed of their own they left the house immediately after supper pretending they were going to play down by the boats but they crossed the beach climbed the dunes and ran excitedly over to the blockhouse abandoned Nazi post facing the Atlantic one of them sports a sailor’s visored cap a sea captain belly round like an apple tiny earthworm wriggling there below it and carrying a plastic telescope pink peeping through those places where the black paint has already worn off

  lying on my belly he fucked me first from behind to get me all hot wetting my cheeks then he jumped up and fucked himself sitting on my lap legs straddling mine us facing each other and the edge of the bed suddenly gave way his cock rigid thick as a candle it shoots dripping wax splashes my chest chin sometimes even my eyebrows if I lower my head at the wrong time or is it the right time an opaline sperm just what you’d expect from some kid who crunches on so many lollipops

  night fell he examined the horizon with his telescope huge tube divided into three sections that could be snapped shut one within the other he seized the end stretching it upward pulling it out squeezing it gently the member grows longer more pink and squishy and thick the more he

  he seems surprised as if he’d never seen his own sex before he pushes it down with the palm of one hand trying to snap it shut shoving it back into his pocket and then runs along the breakwater the lighthouse beacon the boats of the port and those others bobbing up and down so far away looking like toys he swings his thick tube toward them someday he too will be a captain they loved this jetty you could rent dodgem cars here some you had to pedal others run by batteries ten miles an hour their top speed no faster than a good bike really moving straight ahead in a straight line unable to take curves the wind violent flags whipping above their windshields dodgems smashing up against shinbones of strollers along that breakwater he stashed his telescope down there within his crotch where it bulged along the inside of his left leg he gave it a soft slap so that it suddenly snapped shut

  smartly dressed cheeks shining trousers pressed white shirts fine silk ties their nurse accompanies them the one who also works in the kitchen and the poor kids they pass all avert their eyes the nurse later allowing herself to be fucked by the more precocious boys the others watching nudging each other

  a mass of linen hanging on lines that sway downward under its weight white undershorts colored briefs

  the woman isn’t too much fun because the hairs around her asshole scratch too roughly she had thought them too long earlier so she cut them and that only made them grow out more tough and kinky the young kid kept himself at a distance fist clenching around that pink knob trying to keep inside himself what little fuck juice he possessed but when his own fingers began exciting him too much he gave a wild leap backward shooting forth all over his own hand she could easily have lapped up all that childish albumen the last kid to fuck her rides roller coaster on her ass and the nurse wriggles her toes as if some dog were licking them those huge feet devoid of stockings orange corns sticking out through the various fissures in her faded bedroom slippers with their silly pompons her ass rising higher and higher two halves of one huge apple skirt hiking up above her waist she wasn’t wearing any underpants but only that ass two huge thighs a lot of bushy hair and there lost within that not-so-golden delicious its core tiny mouth reddish-brown puckered expressionless the child riding her grew flushed he murmured I’ll marry you someday

  she stands weeping in the corridor great hiccuping sounds and her fist burrowing into one eye kinky hair sticking out every which way she’s so ashamed often ties a bandanna around to hide it the boy in the sailor cap scans the near horizon picking up the woman in his lens pink jointed telescope moving beneath her skirt aimed directly up into her ass

  she changes sheets dark stains all over keeping a sharp lookout because whenever she cleans up in here one of those brats is sure to stick his hand under her skirt born vicious all of them it’s in their blood they climbed back into bed new sheets soon covered with sticky goo at least this time it’s jam and cracker crumbs she moves down the row of beds yanking sheets out from under indolent asses and the boys naked all of them try to lure her under the covers showing her their hard pricks rubbing them up against her ass while she works whispering Oh you’re so lovely wouldn’t you like some of my pea soup in your bowl? he gave a little sigh Oh woooooow! then rebuttoned his fly

  one second more and his sperm can no longer be repressed he’s going to shoot bounding upward happy little madman no madboy crazed with his own first coming a huge garden on all sides of the house they walk around it together See this is our garden isn’t it neat huh? wanna sit down here just the two of us? vacant place no man’s land I answer yes

  when he’s about to come he no longer needs all the bumping and grinding routine just a friction that never lets up for a second there in the depths of my ass his unsheathed knob caught within the vise of cheeks its spout chafed maybe slowed down a bit by banging up against a rough pellet of shit yet never quite stopping its rapid in and out like a fingernail scraping raw some scab a pimple a fly turd upon a windowpane and always going in deeper yet deeper

  come on we’re going to take a look at the water we saw the water the water’s edge he says It’s the sea that’s what they all call it the sea

  blue his movements cause the bed to bounce he stops his juice spurted such a lovely garden I turn around yank my briefs back up around my waist I say

  yeah that was fun

  it’s always fun when at the finish you come

  what’s that mean?

  you mean you honestly don’t know what come is?

  the sea’s edge we stand looking out I’d never seen it before I recognized water of course everybody always says Oh the sea oh how absolutely lovely I saw the sky once in the city a blueness like the sea factories swimming in the sky clouds in the sea and boats blond hair flying my knees trtmble my hips our hips bang scud against splash wetly against each other we finally come out of the blockhouse I’m so happy he’s invited me to come over to their house I’ll give him my name it’s he who’ll say it to them all

  night so
clear gray rugose mass of cement and both of us undecided should we go back or start all over again? I wasn’t sure if I was old enough yet but he told me yes I was if I could he took my little prickie by the top of its bald head fingers curled above it like snuffing out candles he shook the end back and forth explaining to me what they did to it and also in the ass that’s lots of fun too he says it’s made for that for sticking in that hole men and women both but all the same not in his oh no that’s not allowed he tries it on himself shoving his cock back up between his legs bending it all the way back laughing Oh I can feel it what he felt though was his soft flabby knob up against his soft flabby hole It’s fun he says come on you try it too I try but mine’s too short to reach I’m still too short everywhere pants too short breath fingers feet nose oh how I’d love to have great big feet like all those big guys

  in the blockhouse they had stashed away candles blankets an eiderdown pillow and all kinds of grub I understood why we were there

  they picked up the children one by one the director’s wife scoured the countryside for recruits while the director concentrated on the city slums the woman visited every hovel down around the port and every shanty in the hinterlands where peasants eked out a living of sorts raising rye or maybe pigs she was a doctor and had the right arriving always alone she felt their cheeks their calves examined their teeth peered up their assholes fingered their hair their genitals she bought the finest for the price of a bicycle one with a chrome spoke protector chrome disc chain guard front and rear caliper brakes gum wall tires six speeds loud bell headlight in front reflector in back but as for the uglier kids those who would serve as their victims she never had to pay more than say half a pig and the least nourishing half at that certain of the boys she brought back those too weak or too stupid they removed their balls injecting them day and night with hormones until they turned into young girls these they also sometimes killed but they never brought their parents more than the price of three chickens since the medical expenses had been so high she was willing to haggle over the beautiful ones those handsome boys so sturdy and well-built with asses fit for a king to sup on with insolent saucy untiring cocks and haughty elegant faces whose proud cold looks could make old grannies of either sex turn to jelly for these precious few she haggled willingly with their parents suggesting first the price of a boat perhaps two boats even three yes she sometimes went so far as to add sails and a motor foghorns radar and finally after much drama the parents ended by handing over to her their most precious offspring which she then carried off in her shiny american convertible throwing out along the roadside once they had passed the outskirts of town their pathetic battered valises

  and standing there alone before the window thinking back on his house remembering how it was back there when the rain starts to fall and days turn gray

  one raindrop then another then another splashed onto the sill almost in cadence with the expelling of his breath

  plop the wood sounds hollow probably worm-eaten below that sheet of zinc covering it black all rusty an echo repeated over and over slow unique regular emerging distinctly from the general murmur of rain upon grass rain upon leaves and those wide eyes face peering from behind curtains it’s a waiting room and trickling from beneath those eyelids to match the rain outside a slow emission of salty liquid swelling magnifying whiteness

  the yellow walls the sound intrigues me so I hang my head out over the sill who can be throwing pebbles no it’s just the plop plop plop of rain upon zinc I feel a drop land on top of my head run a finger through my hair bring it back down before my face all covered with redness warm blood tears emerging with a mewling sound a cat might make he’ll get used to living here soon enough I stared across at the fishing boats sails flapping in the wind

  the emptiness of this house so many chambers without people whenever he laughs he shows two rows of teeth a long tongue and you can peer all the way down into that hole of

  they dress me in fine clothes take me for rides in a rowboat the guy manning the oars is going at it quite proudly smug in his beauty his skin so clear and fine exactly the type they appreciated most here chestnut-colored hair that looked like it had been fondled a lot hazel eyes and that squirrel on his chest so affectionate it keeps pecking at me whenever he bends forward pulling at the oars nibbling touching my own mouth all of them here are great ones for hugging and kissing Are we going all the way today to the breakwater?

  it’s a long walk even if you rush one or two miles twilight sea birds already hushed heads tucked under their wings some little kid his legs bare his ass all powdered with salt is hunting for crabs among the rocks for mussels and razor clams he looks up Hi! that icy wind whipping our faces we took a slippery path almost perpendicular in places too dangerous fit only for guys used to clever footwork in football games or customs police on the lookout for smugglers sturdy gymnasts with throbbing muscular thighs and although scared shitless I finally agreed to go with them

  on the way he points out a little cove so white nestling within a bowl of jagged black rocks We could swim down there without any clothes on

  he was lying down on his side face propped up on one elbow he was reading legs curved at the knees thighs spread widely apart my hand moved inside there his thigh warm and soft and blond and so round he looked up from his book What? again?

  yes please

  we get undressed in that screaming wind turning our backs to it he was ready before me I can hear him splash of water behind me

  I cover my crotch with one hand that thing down there’s so tiny so laughable pale viscera emerging out of a minuscule basket like two mice kidneys with a piece of intestine dangling down between

  he notices it there’s a funny look on his face

  he stands up in the waves head rising like a bullet upward cutting through the froth foam-born hair face shoulders streaming gleaming he has one too but standing out straight before him as his body rises so long and beautiful jutting out from that flat belly all covered with tufts of brown

  hide it don’t touch me

  I move back from that thing he offered me it slaps bang up against my belly he grabs my waist half-lies down on top of me presses his mouth against mine I grow all stiff with disgust he’s still streaming wet skin so cold muscles hard and solid cheeks burning feeling very satisfied with himself

  falling down upon me like a pack of wolves some have stones in their hands they try to force me to commit vile acts push me down to my knees I keep my head lowered the biggest pounds on my skull nonstop with both fists repeating You’ll do what we say now won’t you? won’t you? won’t you? my nose already bleeding

  this serpent dangling before me which would degrade me if I took it this pink writhing animal each of those boys has one the cove deserted now and mine

  mine stiff greedy perhaps my mouth against his he’s no longer sobbing I’ll hold him up we’re standing facing the wind the waves night coming down fast the red sun setting

  the wind from the open sea makes us both shiver my hair flashing out mixing with his he untangles them laughing There! I touched his mouth just then he shoves himself up against me tongue pushing through my closed lips no child would do that would he

  oh I like that

  sex hardening before my eyes he loves that thing of his flatters it coaxes it obeys all its commands I’m frozen paralyzed before him in that cold wind he feels around touches begs softly hand reaching out to grasp mine the path too slippery here black rocks shining painfully I pull myself up to a standing position

  I’m bleeding my nose a rivulet on each side of my mouth joining to make one great river down at my chin greasy globs of diluted red that stain the window sill

  they climbed the stairs each taking each step at exactly the same time only one heavy footfall to be heard on each stair I didn’t even try to run away the biggest guy showed me a whip so old and mildewed he must have found it down there in the cellar he raises his arm and the thongs swish whistle across my face I scream so l
oudly his arm freezes in mid-air that evening they’ll drag me all the way to the blockhouse and continue what they began here one of the boys will stand sentry duty until then, because they’re scared I might escape he informs me they’ve permis-sion to kill whomever they like among the poorer specimens

  huge stones swathed in absorbent cotton soaked in glue they hurl them at my head finally a felt whip then boiling oil to tan the skin to a lovely golden color all these kids grouped around us they seem to be enjoying it puttering around in their basket of props they condemn me to go down the toboggan ten times

  tortures later on they will yank down my undershorts chasing away those who are merely curious and we’ll all troop into the blockhouse floor covered with sand I’ll be forced to stand in the middle waiting for the tigers to attack they come galloping in wearing swimsuits with black stripes on an orange-red background roaring at me hitting at me with their paws two or three of them licking me everywhere oh that tickles so much I roll over in the sand

  oh shit we’re late it’s already the dinner hour

  we’d better shove off then the boy with the watch shakes my hand and says Pity we’ve got to go now we were having so much fun but we can meet here some other time huh? I answer I don’t know

  I don’t have a home anywhere alone on the beach the last hour of all the sun already drowned birds gone and the sky stormy scudding clouds coming closer and closer there’s still enough time left to hunt for some mussels to eat I think how they’re all so lucky to be able to return to a real house to sleep there with all their toys each in his own bed and each night having the same place his own special seat at a table when they all eat together

 

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