bloody, pulpy remains of his body like pigeons picking apart a piece of chicken. They were fully aware of what they were doing: sending spare parts to the Women of the Gati who would bring them via wagon to Simon, God of Whores where theyd be put to good use as spare parts for his harem. As he was brought to the city on the wagon, Scottys consciousness waned until he was shaken awake by the sensation of his nose being violated. A small, thin penis entered his left nostril, splitting it open. It was pulled out and then shoved into his right nostril, splitting it even more than the left. Blood gushed as well as semen and the penis ejaculated into his nose as Scotty felt his arms on another body, his legs on yet another. He knew that if he cried out, the owner of the penis would not hear him for his mouth was far away in another room. He surrendered control and sniffled, dripping semen, mucus, and blood onto the feet of Simon, God of Whores. PIECEMEAL JUNE CHAPTER ONE Fisherville had one porn shop and Kevin lived above it. The rent was low and he had almost 24 hour access to all sorts of smut and filth. If it was 1 a.m. and Kevin got horny and was in the mood for some MILF porn, it was only twenty five steps away: down the stairs and to the right. If it was 7 a.m. and he had a hankering for a squirting scene: down the stairs and to the right. The porn was all there in all its golden, wet, gargling, pink, gaping glory. It was Friday afternoon and Kevin just got home from work at the PetPlace, a huge pet supply store that catered to every possible pet care need. Not a bad job, Kevin admitted, but it was ultimately a dead-end one. He wasnt even sure what he wanted to do but he knew it wasnt working in retail. Life was disappointment, he had decided, but he wasnt going to try to enjoy it anyway. Even before taking off his work clothes, Kevin put on a Flower TravellinBand album. After he got undressed, he got a beer out of the fridge and sat down in front of the television. He put it on mute and changed the channels, letting the music from the stereo provide the soundtrack to all of the surreal advertisements and visually abrasive late afternoon talk shows. Despite the trash on the television, he felt relaxed. The music simultaneously put him at ease and invigorated him. From out of his bedroom, his cat Mithra walked leisurely 9 Jordan Krall over to Kevin and rubbed up against his leg. In the cats mouth was a tarot card. Kevin shook his head. Not now, kid. Im not in the mood for a reading. Mithra made a pigeon noise and dropped the card down on the floor in front of him. The Ace of Cups stared up at Kevin. Maybe later, okay? The cat was obviously not satisfied with that answer and so he made another disgruntled sound and headed back into the bedroom. Kevin turned back to the television as a commercial came on, catching his attention. A red-headed woman in a business suit was walking down the sidewalk of a busy metropolitan street. Her high heels were silent, the Japanese psych band on the stereo providing the sound of her footsteps. Kevin could smell the sweat from the womans pantyhose. His mouth became dry so he took a swig of beer and kept his eyes on the woman. The meaning of the commercial was beyond Kevins comprehension. He was too busy watching himself delve deep into the sweaty crevices behind her knees. Kevin sniffed the television. He stuck his tongue out and caught static. The shock was the subtle burn of her salty sweat as she marched off to work. From behind him the music got more intense and sent Kevin into a delirium of pixilated stimulation. He fainted, partly from work exhaustion but mostly from the overwhelming mental stench of televised pantyhose. When he awoke, Kevin was face to face with a purring Mithra. In the cats mouth was a piece of something flesh-colored and about the size of a fist. He shook his head free of sleep and sat up. What the hell did you get now? Kevin ran his hand across the top of the cats head
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