Jon Ureña's Blog, page 57

I Gave Birth to This Thing (Poetry)

My pregnancy went right for the first few weeks,
But then my son began to move about
Like an acrobat on stilts
Who isn't the slightest bit sure-footed

My son grew bigger and bigger,
Although I barely nourished him,
And when he finished his dance
(Or rather, his somersault),
It burst out through my navel
And fell onto my bed with a plop;
I had given birth to a pink, slimy egg,
That I called, after much thought,
A baby

The thing was still warm from my womb;
The egg's soft shell felt like velvet in my hands,
And I stroked it gently as if it were a living creature
That would soon hatch into a new life form

(My thoughts turned back to the moment
When a sperm came near to breaking through my egg
And made that strange movement
Which was the prelude to a unique creation,
One that was doomed from start to finish
By some cosmic accident or mistake,
And now the whole process appeared
Less mysterious than cruel)

At last the miracle occurred: the egg split open
And out came out crawling this beautiful baby boy:
A tangled mass of tentacles, beaks and teeth,
And a single eye, which rolled around madly

My son didn't look at all like me,
And he also could speak telepathically
(I can only make out words
In between bouts of nausea and fainting spells)

"Mommy, can you hear what I'm saying?"
"Of course"
"Can you understand what I say?"
"Why not? You're my son"
"You mean that you can see my thoughts
Floating there above my head?"
"Yes"
"What are they thinking now?"
"That you've just been born,
And that I should be proud of you"

My poor son couldn't stand up properly
Without falling over,
So every time he moved his mass,
He got himself in trouble

Between wrinkles, his body hid tiny mouths,
Which contained fangs like those of sharks;
At night he would scream with pain,
And in the morning he'd cry out again

Instead of suckling on my tits,
This son of mine latched on to my skin
With half a dozen of his tentacles,
And sucked through my pores
Until the red stuff trickled out
From where I was bleeding inside

His little eye stared at me blankly
As if it were made of glass
While he sucked away at my flesh;
Afterwards, when he got tired,
He let go and fell down on the floor
In front of the mirror where I gazed at myself

After having been fed upon by him,
My breasts bled so much
That I couldn't staunch the wounds,
Which itched and hurt terribly

My eyes looked dead;
I dreamed about black birds flying overhead,
I dreamt of the moon
As I was carried along under water

Sometimes my son was silent,
At other times he babbled unintelligibly;
All that was obvious to my eyes
Were the bubbles of blood around his beaks,
And the blood that ran down onto his belly
To mix with the yellow-green fluid
Of the pus that filled him up;
Also, slime covered him like an orange scarf

One evening as I lay asleep,
My son came down from his perch high above
And took a bite out of my breasts;
The bitten flesh turned black and fell away,
But he ate these bits of meat and sucked
On the wounds left behind

When dawn broke next day,
Both of my breasts were gone;
They probably flew far away
Into some other nest

When my son grew hungrier, he ate me
Until he sucked the marrow from my bones;
My blood is now all used up,
The tissues of my limbs are rotting away inside,
The nerves have died,
My bones are hollow,
My skull contains only air;
I am now just another victim
Of motherly devotion

I can never get rid of my spawn,
Not if I try forever;
After him, I don't want any more children,
Nor any more slimy eggs

I will wait until I become old enough
For someone else to take care of me;
It will surely feel much better than tending
To this abominable son of mine,
Who has eaten everything there was to eat
Of what once belonged to me

An Untethered Life (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

Years ago I stored a permanent memory:
My latest relationship had ended badly,
And I was standing in a random street
While I looked down at my two feet;
I suddenly felt that the tethers
I had allowed that person to attach to my skin,
And that tied me to another human being
Wherever in the world she happened to be,
Had been forcefully severed,
And I found myself like a stranded astronaut
Drifting through the black void,
Unable even to radio back home

Ever since, I've refused to let anyone
Tether themselves to my sensitive skin;
All I've learned from my intimate relationships
Is that I wasn't born for any of it
They were just there as an excuse for me to live,
To enjoy life while pretending to love them

(Besides, what a romantic relationship provides
Isn't worth the demands and the humiliations)

Real human beings are far too complicated
For someone like me, who's only ever loved
Either the broken or the monsters
(Most of them fictional, some I made up)

Human beings are bound to bother you,
And if you lack the instinct to interact with them,
They only steal your time and energy
That could have gone into writing,
Or anything better than dealing with them,
Such as idly browsing the internet;
I only want people when I want them,
Otherwise they should go away

(I still fantasize about fucking
The many attractive women
That I come across any given day,
But that's the hormones speaking,
And VR is very good at solving
That age-old problem)

This week I've been working afternoons;
By one and a half PM I want to take a nap,
But I have to traverse my city
(Which has become merely a container
Where dozens of nationalities push each other),
Get on a train, and later on take a bus,
So I can work at an office doing shit
That I couldn't care less about

At the end of the month I get angry
Because the government steals
Hundreds of euros I need for myself,
So it can fund my country's suicide
(Or more appropriately, its murder)

And I only care because I have to live here
(I couldn't begin to figure out how to leave);
I've already had people trying to break in,
And a woman almost got raped nearby
(The neighbors beat the culprit up);
Just two things on top of the usual shit

I make my way back home
At eleven PM at night,
And I usually just stare up ahead
So I don't despair at the chaos,
And the hopelessness of our future

I guess it's different for those people
Who look around and feel connected,
But wherever I look, I see flat images,
Ones that don't elicit any feelings
(Any positive ones, at least)

Walking through my workspace,
Or any of the streets I pass through,
They remind me of movie sets
Where important movies had been filmed,
But that have been abandoned to rot,
And the people who remain around
Keep cleaning and repairing the sets
Without knowing why,
And without a single clue about
What it all means

At work, I keep looking at the time
As the hours tick by;
The years have gone by so fast,
And I've wasted my youth,
My entire life,
Waiting for a phone call or email
From people who never contacted me

I'm working through the second full-length revision
Of that novel I wrote in May, about the ghost woman,
But it advances slowly, and the process is painful;
Those scenes feel like memories from a past life,
Moments that I've seared in my brain
Because nothing in reality makes any sense to me

I wish I could delude myself into going back,
To live vicariously through their fictional lives;
I've never cared about my own,
For as long as I remember, I've wanted to disappear

(I'm just waiting to be shot down
By an army of soldiers and policemen,
And when they finally find me,
I'll probably get the same treatment I gave others)

Why go on living if you know
How pointless your life truly is?
How much pain and suffering
Are worth enduring?

(You're just a pawn in someone else's game,
A piece that no one cares about,
An object to use and discard,
A tool to satisfy the needs of the powerful)

I only have days in which such questions burn me,
Or those in which nothing manages to matter;
That's unless I can distract myself
Through writing my way out of hell

None of the stuff I've written
Has ever amounted to anything,
But I can be proud that I tried my best,
Even though I knew I would fail

I have no choice but to continue on
To try and escape from my misery
And the future I don't want,
Which will surely come true
(I hope I die before that happens)

And I do all of this shit
Because I may as well

Interspecies Misdemeanours #3 (Short Story)

Link for this short story on my personal page, where it looks better

---

Although the sight of the two aliens had rendered me speechless for a moment, I had to reply to my friend's idiotic comment.
"I don't know what you mean, Frank. They look perfectly human to me."
Frank shook his head, then gestured nervously towards them.
"What are you talking about? That guy is covered in fur and has four legs!"
The short, bald alien clicked and chirped to his pal, who grunted back. Then they started walking towards us, slowly but with purpose.
The three of us froze. Before we knew it, it was too late to leave through the oval entry of the spaceship. We retreated further into the dimly lit interior, until my back hit the side of one of the seats. The two aliens stepped through and stood there bathed in blue light, staring at us. The furry alien's eyes glowed like a cat's.
My mouth was dry, and I felt dizzy. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I think the three of us friends were frozen in place, unable to move or speak. My heart pounded fast, because this was the first time I'd seen aliens, and they were both terrifying.
I could barely make out very wide, narrow eyes behind the tinted lenses of the bald alien's aviator glasses, but I could tell he was glaring at me. His face was a mess of either wrinkles or scars, or a combination of both.
"Is this your spaceship, by any chance?" the short alien said in a voice raspy like an old man's.
I heard Betty gasping, but I was relieved. Of course, these guys were so advanced and civilized that they had to speak English.
"Wait, doesn't this spaceship belong to you?" Frank asked, bewildered.
"Yes, it's our spaceship," I said. "We came here from Alpha Centauri. It's a planet far away, beyond the galaxy."
The bald alien's eyes narrowed even further, and his large nostrils flared.
"No, it's not. It's our spaceship, the one we landed here a short time ago. Which means that it isn't yours, and you shouldn't be wandering into other people's property!"
I was startled by how hostile he sounded, although his intimidation factor was lessened because he had to look up at me. The tall, furry guy merely looked at us with his coin eyes, emotionless, but we needed to pacify the shorter one, who seemed in charge.
"Okay, okay," I said, trying to sound confident and mature. I stuck out my hand so the bald alien would shake it. "I'm Sam."
The short alien's expression remained grim. I looked down at his four-fingered right hand, which ended in long claws, but he didn't move it, and more importantly, I recognized a gun holster attached to the belt of his black uniform. I could make out part of the grip.
As my blood ran cold, suddenly the tall alien stepped forward and shook my hand firmly. I felt a slight pain in my wrist. It felt like shaking a dog's paw, if the dog had human-like fingers. I could barely dare to look up at the tall alien's furry face, which lacked a nose and ears. His mouth opened wide, revealing rows of pointed teeth and a tongue that looked as if it was covered in tiny hairs. He was so close that I could feel the heat from his body, and I smelled a strange odor coming from him, a mix of rotten meat and something sweet.
"It's bad manners to leave someone hanging," the tall alien said, with a deep, gravelly voice that sounded like a bear growling.
"Ah... Much appreciated."
I never thought we'd encounter such an extraterrestrial creature, let alone speak to him, but I was excited to discover something that nobody else had seen. That's how young and adventurous I was back then.
"So, who are you guys?" Frank asked nervously, but with a look of determination.
"You are avoiding to tell me why you three came into our spaceship without permission," the bald alien said, "but I'll tell you: we are extraterrestrials, as in from another planet, and we have advanced technology, which is how we ended up coming here."
"W-what's your name?" Frank asked.
The bald alien sighed.
"My name is Krayt X-9."
"What a stupid name."
Krayt X-9 gasped and snapped his head back, appaled.
"Can I call you Krayt?" I asked.
"I don't care what you call me," the bald alien grumbled. "Who the hell are you humanlings supposed to be?"
Frank pointed at me.
"This is Sam. He's the best friend I've ever met."
"I don't care," the bald alien said. "You all look dumb."
"We look dumb?!" Betty snapped behind us. "You two are the ugliest people I've ever seen!"
The taller alien, who was twirling fur on his left hand with his other one, stared at Betty through his round, flat, shiny eyes, and answered calmly.
"Every species looks ugly to everyone else."
"That's not true," Betty insisted. "Cats and dogs are beautiful, but you two are like space rats."
I wanted to bonk my attractive friend in the head. We were already trapped in the spaceship of these two alien freaks, which made me sick and anxious, and I had a gut feeling I wouldn't like what would come next.
"You in particular look like a cross between a deformed monkey and a bear," Betty said to the furry alien.
The furry alien shrugged.
"Noble creatures."
"Not the monkeys," I said.
Betty pointed at Krayt X-9 with a trembling finger.
"And you, I think you're the most repulsive looking thing I've ever laid my eyes on. I mean, I know it's rude to say that about a person from outer space, but I'm just saying."
I put my hand on Betty's shoulder and begged with my eyes for her to shut up, then turned my head to address the aliens.
"In any case, don't pay much attention to Betty's insults. She has a good reason to despise aliens, having lost one arm because an extraterrestrial bit her in her youth, before anyone in the neighborhood knew how dangerous the world truly was."
"I don't think your species can regrow limbs," the furry alien said. "Anyway, I am called Yash."
"But Sam is right," Betty said, "and you two don't seem dangerous, even though you are hideous."
The bald alien seemed about to complain, but Frank spoke over him.
"You're crazy! Didn't you hear my dad? The aliens killed a guy with a hammer!"
"That's just a story. And even if it's true, they haven't done anything to me besides damage my eyes with their ugliness."
"They have a gun," I whispered in Betty's ear. "A ray gun, probably. They could kill you in a second."
"If we let them."
Yash shifted his weight in his four legs.
"Why did the three of you humans come here?"
"We were exploring," I said, trying to sound calm.
"Exploring? You mean spying on us?" Krayt X-9 asked.
"This planet has already been thoroughly explored," Yash said.
I felt a chill run through me. It was true. We weren't tourists. This wasn't an ordinary trip, but a mission.
"No, no, we didn't spy on you!" I said as I raised my hands to pacify them. "We saw you guys flying the ship into the forest, and we figured we would come and take a peek around. There might have been something interesting inside."
"What, to steal?" Krayt X-9 insisted with contempt. "Very appropriate for a species descended from apes!"
"They think we are animals," Betty whispered in my ear, which made me shiver. "My mom says that sometimes human beings look like animals to other people. She also said that some of her relatives are part cat."
I looked at the aliens, and spoke as firmly as possible.
"We aren't thieves. We're explorers, scientists, who want to learn more about your culture. We are not the same kind of people that the Nazis or Communists would be."
Krayt X-9 snorted with disdain.
"Whatever. Now you idiots have realized that there's nothing of interest in our ship. Is that correct?"
Betty and I nodded, and Frank shrugged his shoulders. I wasn't sure what we had expected to find.
"Then," Krayt X-9 continued, "I'm sorry you wasted your time with such a pointless task. We suggest you leave immediately."
"Why did you land?" Betty asked. "I bet I know why."
The bald alien scowled at Betty.
"Oh, I'm sure you do."
"Don't you dare say it," I whispered angrily.
"You two needed to pee," Betty said.
I could feel my face turning red. Frank looked away, embarrassed by our friend's comment.
"What a preposterous notion," Krayt X-9 said. "We did away with those means of disposing waste long ago in our evolutionary line. Your species is the one who is always handling pee and shit."
"I'm afraid that's true," Yash said. "Humans have to carry their own excretions."
"So why did you land, then?" Frank asked, curious.
"We were just tired of spending so much time sitting in our ship," the furry alien, Yash, answered. "We wanted to stretch our legs, take a walk in peace."
"A peace that has been broken by three stupid humans breaking into our ship," Krayt X-9 added.
"I don't think you should talk about us like we're animals," Betty said, her voice shaking slightly.
"You are animals, but most importantly, your species is a bunch of monkeys. You're all descended from the ape family. You have no right to speak of intelligence when you can't even speak properly."
"We don't need to explain ourselves to you. And you are not very polite."
I stopped facepalming and took a deep breath.
"We didn't break in, we just opened the hatch. You two aliens are the ones who didn't lock your spaceship."
The bald alien fixed his narrow gaze on me.
"Don't you understand how coming into a ship that doesn't belong to you can be interpreted as a violent act?" he asked, sounding increasingly irritated.
I shrugged my shoulders and tried to look nonchalant. I was still scared of these two aliens, but I hated when people told me I couldn't explore some cool place.
"We thought that maybe you guys had landed because you were lost. So we came over to see if you needed any help. That's all."
"You are just changing your story now."
Someone touched my shoulder suddenly, which startled me. It was Betty's hand, and feeling her warmth through the thin fabric of my shirt made me warmer. But she had put her other hand on Frank, so it wasn't an intimate gesture.
"Hey, it's already gotten late, and the five of us are friends now," Betty said. "We can sleep inside the spaceship until tomorrow morning, right?"
"What?" Krayt X-9 asked in disbelief, his raspy voice turning high-pitched. "Of course you can't!"
Frank's face lit up with excitement.
"That sounds amazing! If only we had brought a picnic basket, so we could have lunch inside the spaceship."
Betty let out a noise as if she suddenly remembered something. She grabbed the backpack, which was hanging from Frank's shoulder, and she opened it.
Krayt X-9 took a step forward, suddenly nervous.
"Hey, what are you doing? What are you pulling out?"
It was the box full of sandwiches. She opened it, and the scent of bread and jam made me salivate. She stretched her arms holding the box towards the crabby alien as if presenting a gift.
"We offer you a meal!" Betty said sweetly. "I suggest you two eat quickly before your food spoils."
Krayt X-9 stepped back and grimaced at the sandwiches.
"Don't push that disgusting human food towards me."
Betty gasped, then hung her head low. Tears started accumulating along her lower eyelids.
Frank's dad was right: these aliens were dangerous. If Krayt X-9 weren't an alien and he didn't have a gun, I would have punched his stupid face. I grabbed two of the sandwiches and I took bites of each of them, stuffing my mouth.
"Don't listen to this prick, Betty!" I said angrily, showering her with crumbs. "He's from another world, he has no manners and he doesn't know that one never rejects a sandwich from a girl! And they are delicious, see? I will always be glad to eat your sandwiches!"
I shot Krayt X-9 a challenging stare. He looked away in disgust.
Yash turned his furry hands up.
"Our digestive systems can't process human food."
"Say that, then," I said.
"What do you eat instead? Poop?" Frank asked. "Nevermind, I forgot you guys don't poo like normal animals. You just poo in a special place."
"I'm going to ignore you from now on," Krayt said in a thin voice, barely glancing at Frank.
This was a problem, though. If these aliens couldn't handle our sandwiches, we didn't have bargaining chips for them to let us go peacefully.
"Sorry, sorry," Frank said. "But now that we are here, can we make some sort of deal so you explain how this technology works?"
"You don't listen, do you? And what kind of deal are you possibly talking about, little boy? Your species has already invaded our ship and tried to steal from us!"
I lifted a hand to pacify the bald alien.
"There was no stealing going on. Listen, we are big enough to admit our mistakes, and I apologize if we caused you harm by trespassing on your spaceship. I also forgive you for making Betty cry."
Krayt X-9 snorted at me contemptuously.
"Apologize? We are not interested in such a cheap apology, and we have no interest whatsoever in hearing you admit that you made an error."
Frank had wandered back towards the control panel installed in the wall in front of the smallest seat, which I guess belonged to Krayt X-9. My friend was running his fingertips across the weird gauges.
"Hey, do not touch anything!" Krayt X-9 complained.
Frank shrugged his shoulders in a way that suggested he was not intimidated by the warning.
"I'm curious about what kind of power source this ship uses, and whether it is nuclear or solar powered. Are there any solar panels? I would love to examine them in detail, and find out if they are able to produce electricity without relying on fossil fuels. Not that there's anything wrong with fossils."
"As if we were still primitive beings without manners nor intelligence! Fossil fuels! Don't bother me with nonsense, we aren't going to tell you anything about how our ship works. You humans cannot be trusted with any advanced technology! You would endanger the safety of everyone else." He points at the long stick I had rested against a wall. "And what is a part of a tree suddenly doing in my ship?"
"That's called a walking stick," I said casually, "and it was given to me by my parents as a gift because they know that I am fascinated by nature and the outdoors."
"Your parents gave you a wooden toy. That doesn't mean you can bring it inside the ship."
I laughed.
"It's a walking stick, and it's made out of wood. It's harmless and won't hurt anyone. In fact, I've used it to help me get around when I was exploring the forest near our house. If you want, I will show you how I use it. I have been using it for years now, and my dad taught me how to care for it properly."
Frank was kneeling on the floor to rummage through his backpack. He pulled out his camera and started fiddling with it.
"At least we can go home with pictures of aliens! A few shots will suffice. Nobody else would believe us otherwise. Betty, can you pose next to the furry guy?"
Krayt X-9 let out a noise of indignation, but Yash was quick to approach Frank and lower my friend's hand as he was about to snap a photo of the bald alien.
"Can't let you take photos, sorry," Yash said. "We aren't even supposed to be here, nor be seen by human beings. It's how it works."
I raised my eyebrows.
"According to who?"
Yash turned towards me and shrugged.
"It's due to the quarantine thing."
"Quarantine? What are you talking about? Is there a virus going around?"
Krayt X-9 snorted and shook his head.
"Yes, exactly that. This whole place is just a festering virus."
"Are you aliens going to get infected by the viruses we have, like it happened to the Indians? Because if so, you might want to be careful. There are diseases in this world that can kill a person in a matter of minutes."
"No, you moron. You human beings are the virus! They put the quarantine in place because your species is as violent and irrational as they come, and the Coalition can't allow you to get out of your nest unless you get your shit together. Which you never will! You've been like this for hundreds of thousands of years."
I gasped.
"You're wrong. We have evolved a lot in recent centuries, and we are much more civilized than you think. For example, we haven't fought a war in a few years."
Krayt X-9 rolled his eyes.
"So why did this Coalition send you here, then?" Frank asked.
"We were just taking a break," Yash said.
I hadn't stopped staring at the short alien's tinted glasses.
"You act all uppity, Krayt, but you two are probably criminals who came down to our home to steal from us."
Krayt stared at me coldly as he stood motionless, except for the slightest flicker in the muscles under the skin.
"What the fuck did you just say to me?"
"Cool it. You are going to make Betty cry again."
"I'm fine," Betty said.
"I know all about you aliens," I said as I jabbed a finger at the bald prick. "You've been kidnapping humans and doing weird experiments with their butts for years! And you call us uncivilized? I'm sure you have dissected many of us for fun!"
“The extraterrestrials who kidnap humans are another group, and they aren’t on our side either," Yash said. "Don’t lump us together with them.”
When I looked back at Krayt, he had stepped closer to me, and was staring as if he were containing himself from strangling me.
"Let me tell you something about your species," he said coldly. "Years ago I was part of a team that came to this planet to study its soil and to try to figure out why it's so toxic. It's nothing but garbage compared to the planets we know about. Suddenly we found ourselves being shot at by uniformed men, and two of my crewmates got hit. Luckily, we managed to escape, but my mates died on the ship."
"That's terrible," Betty said.
Krayt X-9 was confused for a moment about Betty's sympathy.
"Yeah, it was horrible. But the worst thing is that we couldn't save them. It was a terrible mistake, coming here in the first place. Human beings are dangerous creatures. They have an inferiority complex and a tendency to attack others for no reason!"
"Well, we weren't the ones who hurt anybody," I said. "We were just curious about your ship. And we knew nothing about a quarantine."
For a while, Betty had been having trouble to breathe properly, maybe because of the fear, and she started having a coughing fit. Krayt X-9 snapped his head towards her.
"Yes, you're right." Betty said in a thin voice, then coughed and took deep breaths as Frank patted her back. "We shouldn't be here, but it's too late now."
"It's not just about some individual humans," Krayt X-9 insisted. "There were also these guys we know who came to this nasty planet to have a good time. They landed on a long strip of paved ground. That was the very first time they visited you. But one of those primitive, toxic vehicles you call cars stopped in front of the ship, and its occupants yelled at the extraterrestrials for blocking the road. Then the humans got out of the car and started beating our guys up! They hauled ass out of this wretched planet and pledged to never return!"
"Yeah, there's no way that ever happened," I said. "And they shouldn't have blocked the road anyway."
Krayt X-9's fists were trembling as Betty doubled over in an asthma attack. She hacked up phlegm.
"Shit, Betty! Did you bring your inhaler?" Frank asked, worried.
Betty nodded, but she couldn't talk through the coughing. She pointed at the backpack. As Frank was shoving his arm inside, Krayt X-9 walked up to Betty, grabbed her arm and started dragging her towards the oval entry of the spaceship. My friend couldn't even let out a noise of surprise without coughing more.
"That's enough! I won't have a diseased human messing up my ship!"
"No way!" I shouted. "You don't grab girls like that!"
I jumped at the bald alien and punched him in the face. Krayt X-9 stumbled backwards. He stood there for a long second and a half, until pink, liquid worms started pouring from his huge nostrils. He covered his nose with one hand, and the liquid dripped between his fingers.
"You are trying to start a fight with us," Krayt X-9 muttered. "Well, we can't have that."
Frank realized it was on. He pushed the bridge of his glasses up, then turned around and threw a punch at Yash. However, the furry alien caught Frank's fist, who complained inarticulately, and then Yash pushed my friend. Frank fell on his ass.
Betty scrambled and coughed her way to the large stick resting against the wall. She picked it up, twisted around and hurled the stick at Yash, who was turning his palms towards the ceiling when the stick bonked him in the head. It snapped back. When Yash lowered his head again, he stared at Betty expressionless, but then again his eyes were lidless and uniformly pickle green.
"Hey, don't do that."
I felt a warm sensation at the base of my neck. Something metallic was pressing into my skin. Krayt X-9, bleeding profusely from his nose, had unholstered his gun, which I could barely see from this angle. As I opened my mouth to speak, the bald alien kicked me in the abdomen. I staggered backwards. My heel hit the lower edge of the oval entry, which caused me to somersault onto the grass of the clearing.
Krayt X-9 walked out of his spaceship, still gripping his futuristic gun. He stepped aside to let Yash pass, who was holding up both Frank and Betty, as if they weighed as much as puppies. Frank was too stunned to complain, and Betty kept coughing. Tears were jumping from her eyes. Yash dropped my friends carefully on a bed of tall grass. As soon as he released them, they pushed themselves back.
I tried to stand up, but Krayt X-9 closed his hand around my face. His long claws scratched my scalp. His fingers were cold and clammy; they reminded me of a spider's legs. He pushed me back. I got a still shot of the chest of his uniform, which was stained with pink blood, before Krayt X-9 lifted his right hand to point with his gun at my head. The white lines around his mouth got creased as he smirked.
"You got your chances to talk. Either you die, or I will kill you."
I noticed the tendons in his shooting arm contracting, but Yash knocked the gun from his pal's hand as I heard a sizzling discharge. A red beam had grown in my vision for a split second, and had struck the ground near my head. A patch of grass had disintegrated. What remained in the edges smelled like it was burning.
Krayt X-9 grimaced angrily as he looked up at the furry alien. The bald alien chirped in his language, but I understood his disbelief. Yash shrugged calmly and grunted in response.
I could have sworn that I lost consciousness for a moment as the phrase 'this ugly alien just fucking shot me' echoed in my mind. The next thing I knew, a bunch of human adults were shouting at us from different directions, and very close.
"Drop the gun! Drop it now!"
As I tried to stand up with my trembling legs, I saw Krayt X-9 paralyzed in the act of crouching to pick up his ray gun. We were surrounded by three nervous cops who were pointing their standard issue pistols at the murderous alien as if they couldn't wait to blast a dozen holes through him.
Krayt X-9 was shaking, but let go of his gun. When he straightened his back, he opened his mouth to speak. The nearest cop lunged forward and tackled Krayt to the ground. The human landed with a thud on top of the alien's shoulders, who struggled and kicked at the air in desperation.
After one of the other cops kicked the ray gun away, they approached the tall, furry alien cautiously. Yash merely stared at them as his arms hung by his sides.
"Put your hands behind your back," one of the cops said. "Don't try anything stupid."
Yash sighed, turned around and obeyed. The cops handcuffed him.
One of the cops handling him, a guy in his forties who had a ketchup stain near his moustache, furrowed his brow as he stared at Yash's alien face.
"You are one odd lookin' fella."
"Hey, you also look weird to me."
While the cops led the three aliens out of the clearing towards the path, Krayt X-9 kept struggling and yammering something about the Coalition, but I could barely make out what he was saying over Betty's coughing. One of the cops bothered to address us.
"Go home soon, kids. Your parents are worried about you."
"Sure," I said, stunned.
Once the adults were gone and I ceased to hear Krayt's complaints, I went straight for the spot where the ray gun had fallen, but it was gone. I guess one of the cops took it.
Frank was kneeling next to Betty as he grabbed her inhaler out of his backpack. I ran to Betty's side and I held her head. Something about the way she pursed her pink lips around the mouth of the inhaler sent shivers down my spine. She coughed a couple of times before finally taking a deep breath and blowing the contents of the device into her lungs. Her face relaxed. She wiped her tears with the back of her hands.
"Are you okay?" I asked her.
Betty nodded.
"I'm sorry," Frank said to me. "This is all my fault."
I wasn't sure what he was referring to.
"You are forgiven, Frank."
I took deep breaths. My brain was rattled. I guessed there was a parallel universe in which that ray gun put a big hole through my head.
"My lungs feel like they're burning," Betty complained in a pitiful, raspy voice. "I'm really glad those fucking bastards left us!"
"That was amazing, though," Frank said. He stood straight and stared up at the huge spacecraft. "Those aliens looked like dinosaurs."
"Damn it, Frank," I said. "They looked nothing like dinosaurs. Stop it."
"Are you okay, though?" Betty asked my way.
When I looked down towards her, she was staring at me with her big brown eyes. Her pigtails were resting on the chest of her dress. I knew, even though I had never held a girl in my arms like a man holds a woman, that this was the moment when my old friend Betty and I should kiss passionately. I felt my face getting warmer.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said as my heart jumped on my chest. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because that ugly alien almost killed you, Sam. And you punched him because he had grabbed me..."
"W-well, I had to defend my girlfriend, didn't I?"
I bit my tongue so hard that it hurt for a while. When I dared to look at her in the eyes again, Betty had blushed.
"Your girlfriend? Since when?"
"Since now."
Betty averted her gaze, and fiddled with the hem of her skirt.
"You can't just decide that unilaterally... You are a weirdo, Sam."
I kept staring at her while my heart cooled down, as I imagined that she would lift her gaze again and face mine, but she didn't. When she lowered her head and coughed, I walked a few steps away from my friends.
I don't know how much time passed before any of us spoke again, but Frank changed the subject.
"I bet we could get a lot of money for the alien spaceship. Maybe we could sell it to that guy at the auto plant and use the cash to finally buy a car."
"You idiot," Betty said, deflated. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. And you would regret it later when you have to pay taxes on that kind of income."
Frank was holding a cigarette between his lips while he struck a match. He lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply before blowing the smoke into the night sky.
"I know it's risky, but the ship must hide some kind of advanced technology, right? We could try to pry open the wall, pull out some cables or whatever. Forget about a new car, we could even buy a boat so we can sail around the world."
I sat down wearily on the grass. My chest hurt, I wanted to go home.
"That's nothing but another empty dream," I muttered. "There's no way we are getting rich off aliens."
After a few seconds, Betty let out a long sigh.
"The government people will come and take it away. We'll never see it again."
I lifted my gaze in the direction of where the cops led those two weird guys away. I guess they'll end up in some holding cell next to thieves, burglars, and drunk men who hit their wives.
I couldn't stop my hands from trembling. I feared for the future of my species.
"I knew that the aliens were dangerous, but I never thought they'd be evil," I said in a thin voice.
Frank huffed and wheezed. I noticed Betty standing up and patting the skirt of her dress.
"Let's just go home."
I had been hoping for an adventure that would make us feel special. I think that was why the three of us had been exploring around since we were children. We were fifteen years old, we weren't supposed to be scared of anything. I wanted to experience new and exciting things.

It's been many years since the last time I faced violent poltergeists or armies of robots, visited space stations, was pursued by giant monsters, or punched an alien. But whenever I feel like my life has been reduced to bills, long commutes, mortgages, and a body that only gets rustier, I can close my eyes and remember my old friends Frank and Betty, and all the good times we used to have.

THE END

The Well-Hung Duchess of Cosmographica (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

Bogdana, duchess of the dark motherland,
The forgotten kingdoms of Cosmographica,
Lady and mistress, sovereign of the night,
Queen of the darkest castle, the greatest conqueress,
Rules her subjects through terror and sex

Her castle stands high above all others,
And its towers are made from gold
Few dare rebel against her anymore;
They know she destroys everyone who disobeys

The castle was built three hundred years ago
During Alcindor's rule as king,
But the man left this country after the war,
And never returned there

Bogdana is his descendant still,
Who rules through the terror and pleasure of sex,
That she uses to maintain the loyalty
Of her vassals, soldiers and slaves

Now Bogdana reigns in this castle, in Alcindor's place,
And she does not treat her subjects well;
Instead, they serve only to be used by the duchess
Whenever she feels hungry

She’s got the perfect body and face for sex
Her breasts are huge, her hips wide, she’s tall
(About two heads taller than any man)
She’s a beauty who can please any gender

Bogdana was born a miracle from God;
She has two sets of genitals:
A sealed, shriveled vagina,
But the largest, veiniest cock

Beware the evil that hides beneath her skirt,
Those clothes may cover what you shouldn't see
If anyone ever does gaze upon Bogdana’s cock,
Let alone touch it or look to long upon it,
They will become enslaved by her massive tool
The best way for men to serve her now
Is with their own tongues between her thighs

Her enormous phallus stretches out like a bow
To bend all men, and women as well;
She can break you with a look, but will not hesitate
To fuck a hole open for her own pleasure

Bogdana's penis doesn't just end at the pussy;
It ends at the anus too;
Sometimes it extends beyond those openings
And reaches her mouth

Every morning when Bogdana leaves her bedroom,
Us servants gather to see her magnificent bosom
Dressed in silky nightclothes,
Then the the duchess smiles at us
With an expression both terrifying and tender

We can't contain ourselves, because we admire her
Breathtaking chest, which rises high and proud;
Each of her large mounds sits upon the summit
Of her glorious bosom in an hourglass shape
As her chest rises higher than our heads,
Sometimes we can't see her face at all

The duchess' upper half is adorned in pearls
And jewels and precious stones,
And the lower part, covered in smooth white flesh,
Leads to Bogdanas's delicious ass,
Which she loves to squeeze with each step;
She squeezes so hard that she creates waves,
Which ripple along the floor below,
Causing water and mud everywhere

Bogdana is so powerful, beautiful and big
Nobody knows how to compete with that,
And certainly only the mad would want to;
It would be like trying to fight a hurricane

(As I was sitting to write these words,
The great lady walked into my quarters
And began to remove my clothes;
These days I give myself freely, eagerly,
Because I welcome the privilege of pleasing her,
The mistress who rules over me)

A man could never stand against her frame:
He’d lose in the first minute,
And he’d have to give up and submit
Then, Bogdana would make him pay

The duchess wants subjects who are obedient,
Who sit in a corner like the perfect doll,
Or bow before her to lick her shoes clean
(Or maybe suck out a load of spunk)

Bogdana loves to hear others begging her,
To feel their obedience and helplessness
As they kneel before her,
Bowing and prostrating themselves
Even when their words and actions contradict
What they think of themselves
It fills the duchess with such lusty ecstasy
Oh God... She's already dripping with precum!

I was a simple peasant in a neighboring country,
But the plundering men of Cosmographia came my way
My farmhouse was destroyed, my older brother killed,
And I was brought over to the duchy as a slave to sell

I was a young maiden back then, shapely and unspoiled,
An innocent village girl who just started having periods
I met Bogdana right off, at my very first inspection;
She sent me straight to her bed instead of her dungeons

I spent days bound by chains in her bedroom
My body ached, with bruises forming everywhere,
Because Bogdana kept beating the shit out of me
(My wrists hurt for months, and my ankles swelled so bad
That I had to hobble and hop all around)

I was a mere child and I had done nothing wrong
Bogdana said that this wasn't enough torture
"Your only choice left is obedience! Do whatever I ask!"
I didn't want to suffer anymore,
So I surrendered to do as she demanded,
Which was to serve her monstrous cock
In exchange for some food every now and then

I could see myself reflected in Bogdana's glistening prick:
I always look tiny compared to the duchess,
With my little breasts, tight little tummy, slender waist,
And my pitiful female sheath, which goes into my body

(The duchess licks at her own chocolate milk
While stretching open the towel in front to reveal
The double organ woman: it's a mirrored cunt
As it hooks on to its own angry bacon neck
God damn Bogdana! What is that thing?!

I feel the cockhead, then I can barely accommodate
A single millimeter when Bogdana pushes herself in
I fall unconscious for a while and come awake in a dream
Of being penetrated with the duchess’ enormous prick

Bogdana keeps forcing herself inside, deeper,
And my poor, aching hole can hardly handle it all
This goes on forever in this weird erotic loop
While my mind is filled with the immense sensations
And pleasures of being fucked so big
It feels like a man should, but also not like a man

Even these days, as a veteran servant of our lady,
When the pain becomes unbearable,
I sob, cry out loud, which worries Bogdana,
But she gives my throat something extra;
The duchess loves the taste of her former slave girl
So much, in fact, that whenever I get fucked
She will gift me her saliva like it's candy;
I swallow her gifts, and she does the exact same
To keep feeding me that special flavor;
I'll be honest, this makes my life worth living)

While she wiped her cock, Bogdana told the guards,
"Give this filthy creature a clean cloth,"
So the senior servant ran out to do so;
I thanked the lady after wiping me thoroughly,
Then she offered me a cup filled with tea

The weary senior servant took me aside
To explain what my life had been reduced to:
"You're going to work for Bogdana in the palace
And help with the farm chores and the cleaning
We are to service her, serve and please
Her every waking need as long as we are alive"

I bowed my head, ashamed at how pathetic I looked
My tears made the senior servant sigh
"You'll soon get used to this life; Besides,
If you try to run away, she’ll catch you in a day
You're never free from Bogdana's clutches
She's got eyes in all the corners of the realm
She sees everything, and she hears too if she wants

Bogdana can read your mind,
So whatever you've been hiding from her,
Don't bother lying: she'll know soon anyway
You better tell the whole story immediately,
To get through your punishment soon"

I dreaded the next time I would face the duchess,
And heard her words echoing in my mind,
"Get down on your knees, peasant slut"
And so I, so far removed from my old life,
Would bow in worship to Bogdana's monster cock
"Fuck yourself onto me!" she commanded
I always obeyed like a mindless puppet,
Till I felt a warm, wet spot forming under me,
A feeling so wonderful and pleasant I couldn't bear it
"Come for me now, slave!" ordered Bogdana
(Those same nights, I yearned to be taken again)

Whenever I faced Bogdana, my hands were sweaty,
My heart was pounding and racing,
The air around me shimmered with anxiety and fear
As Bogdana's cock continued relentlessly beating
The shit out of the rest of my mind

If I said anything back to the duchess,
She beat me unconscious with her giant dick,
But if I obeyed her completely and did everything right,
She rewarded me with sexual pleasures beyond belief

Oh no, the duchess was smiling at me,
And her huge dick was swinging around again;
If her skirt was hiked up to reveal her massive erection,
It didn't matter that now the lady was polite and nice
Thankfully I learned to carry around a jar full of lube
That I saved for those rainy days

My body trembled when she forced herself on me
My breasts ached for release
From being squeezed tightly by her huge nipples
My pussy clenched around her gigantic shaft,
Begging to feel more of it buried deep inside me
Then the duchess laughed at how weak I was,
How much pleasure I got from being dominated like that,
For wanting to serve her in every possible way

The worst thing was being forced to beg;
You must know how good that can feel,
It felt fantastic when my begging brought a smile
To the face of someone as powerful and cruel as her

(These days she doesn't order me to beg,
I love to do it over and over myself)

Once she forced me to ride a horse
Bareback without reins for hours;
When I returned to the castle, covered in sweat,
Bogdana tied me naked to a tree, spread-eagled,
And fucked me until I came three times

The duchess orders us servants to bring out the wine,
The food (including her favorites, pork loin and sausages)
Then her most devoted attendants bring her gifts:
Jewelry, dresses made for a princess, shoes

Bogdana adores giving presents to her people,
Because the gifts remind her that they adore her
She doesn't care about politics and wars:
What the duchess truly desires is sex
All of Bogdana’s desires, both mundane and erotic,
Can be summed up as: more sex, please

(Bogdana likes her drink with just enough booze;
When it's just alcohol, it doesn't taste good
The liquor must flow freely, and yet be diluted
So she can sip her favorite libation
Without getting completely wasted

She likes drinking alone, all by herself,
In secret and hidden from anyone else;
She thinks it's best to drink her whiskey in peace
With a book on her knee)

No amount of money can buy your freedom;
Bogdana has absolute authority here,
And the price for her vassals to stay in power
Is unquestioning devotion

The duchess gave orders for all the servants,
The wretches who worked hard for months or years
Just getting enough food to live;
Bogdana told us not to eat at her palace,
But rather live off what’s outside in the woods

The duchess intended to torture us all in the forest
To get us addicted to pain;
This way, we would always crave punishment,
So we could only survive if we received the treatment,
Which was more doses of her dick
The end goal was total submission, total obedience

I hated her then, even as my body burned with arousal,
But the hatred and the lust were one in the same;
I had come to see the great duchess in a different light:
Her abuse of her subjects wasn’t just about pleasure,
But something more important, a kind of twisted justice

I had already learned that I loved the pain,
Loved the fact that my mistress used
And punished me so thoroughly;
It made me so horny every night
That I couldn't wait to get back to Bogdana
To have my pussy stuffed with cock again

She made us servants worship her feet
And suck on her toes like dogs,
And when Bogdana wanted sex, she just grabbed
Someone attractive by their hair,
Even lords and ladies,
And threw them onto her bed

For men all over the realm, I give some advice:
Bend over slowly with your back facing the duchess,
Put your hand onto your cheek (this is important),
Spread your legs a bit farther apart,
Then say these words, “Your wish is my command”
She will be on top, you are expected to lie there,
Accepting her cock without resisting

Bend down, kiss and worship its massive head,
Serve the great duchess' every whim;
Then when she says you've been obedient enough,
You can sit up straight again

Bogdana isn't afraid of anybody:
Nobody can stand up to her,
Nobody can stop her;
Everyone knows that her cock is undefeatable

It's true, nobody can beat her,
Not even the king himself;
He can try his best, but he'll fail;
He won't be able to match her strength

She owns all the lands around
And keeps the peasants in her debt, as she does us,
Through her own wicked sexual pleasures;
She's powerful enough that she never gets sick,
Even after eating the most horrible foods,
Or drinking the most awful liquids
The great duchess always remains healthy,
Because her cock gives her energy

(Bogdana has taken the habit
Of coming to my bedroom at night,
To force her monster onto my pussy lips;
She even called me her favorite

Her past beatings ceased to hurt,
And her attention makes me so warm;
I admit to myself that I love my duchess,
Especially when she pumps me full of cum)

The duchess' cock never gets tired,
Even after fucking all day long;
Although we keep hearing cries
Of shame and humiliation,
The duchess only cares about having fun

The noblemen bow before her,
All the poor peasants are afraid of her
Her power comes from her obscenely tall frame,
But mainly from her monstrous cock,
Which is even bigger than it befits a giantess

It must be wonderful to have a dick like that,
To get to feel its weight and size every day,
To feel so much power in each stroke,
To have the ability to make a man or woman
Lose consciousness with just one thrust

One thing Bogdana has added lately
Is a cockstander's stance
That seems like it fits in quite well
She loves her cock-enhanced look;
Her huge cockette always juts out of her panties,
Except now it sticks out a few extra centimeters

(Cockstanding is an ancient tradition;
It began with the Egyptians and is still performed today,
Albeit to a much smaller degree
There is more going on than simply "cock-and-cocking";
There's lots and lots of sex, that involves sucking dicks,
Fucking holes, swallowing cumshots, getting facefucked,
And the act of being shoved full of cum
The list of possible acts is almost endless

I think it would take a very long time to write
An essay that could describe in detail all the possibilities,
However I can offer some ideas;
Here's a short sample of what I imagine:
The duchess puts a finger into your asshole)

Bogdana is uncharacteristically respectful
To a famous writer in her court;
These days she often carries around
That man's latest book, an ode to his duchess

(I admit I have felt jealousy at times,
And wondered whether she had fucked him)

The book contains descriptions of her adventures
Plenty of pages are devoted to her enormous cock,
Although a section is dedicated to Bogdana's bosom,
Her nipples, and how to tit-fuck her slave-girls;
There are dozens of drawings,
Including one which is rather close-up

In fact, this book is actually a manual
On the art of cocksmanship,
That explains how Bogdana will dominate
The forgotten kingdoms of Cosmographica
And make her subjects love her even more;
Many pictures show throughout the book
How her subjects will eventually come crawling
For the chance to get even more humiliated,
Just so they can be used by her big prick
She is not only the mistress, but also the teacher;
I suspect that someday there will be
A few books written about me

(I myself was fortunate enough in my younger years
To have been blessed by a mother
That had experienced several orgasms herself;
This taught me to understand how to perform
A number of techniques on another human's anatomy;
At night, she let me have sex with her
Using all the different techniques she knew

My mother went on to pass her own experience along
To both of her young offspring;
The eldest, my deceased brother, having an active interest,
Although I was somewhat more laid back and indifferent

While my dear mother didn't possess the authority
And credentials found on the bookshelves
Of some of Cosmographica's finest institutions,
She was a member of the Cockstuddling School of Love,
Which maintains the right balance of professionalism
Coupled with a level of comfort for its members

I never thought that my master would allow me
The privilege of taking our great duchess to heaven,
Where we spend our lives together)

The duchess' cum tastes absolutely fantastic,
And is especially useful as medicine
I once heard that a single dose of her semen cures cancer;
This is obviously fake, but there's a small truth in it,
Since semen is a natural disinfectant and purifies wounds;
I know a lot of people in Bogdana's realm have it on tap,
So they can drink their recommended dose daily

The duchess orders me into the bath with her
Every single morning, for a few years now,
Because she likes having a cockbath before breakfast
(Sometimes this happens in the middle of the night:
She climbs into the water, nude of course,
And waits until her massive cock begins swelling
Before diving underneath)

As our duchess and I sit in a tub full with warm water,
It takes me an hour and twenty minutes
To wash off most of Bogdana's cock,
Without having time to start cleaning the rest of her body
Then I must towel-dry the duchess carefully,
Because her phallus sticks straight out like a pole

(Some mornings she lets me wash her with my mouth;
Mainly her breasts and her armpits,
But her large balls can be cleaned efficiently by licking)

Bogdana's enemies are totally ignorant
About the duchess real, vast wealth and fortune,
Which as she readily explains, comes mostly
From her immense collection of books,
Some of them dating far back in history

For example the 'Necronomics', written in ancient Erokine;
'The Compendium of Sigmoidal Paedology',
Authored sometime between 982 CE to 1004 CE;
'The Anonymous Dictionary on How to Use the Penis
Like an Instrument of Human Pleasure',
Composed during the Renaissance Era;
And my favorite, 'The Manual On How to Get a Real Job',
By an author known only by his first name, Lamplight

Many of the books have been passed down
Through the duchess' line and the Cockstroking School;
Bogdana also owns the 'Degenerate Art of the Vagina',
By the famous artist of the same name,
Who's probably the greatest genius who ever existed,
Even though he lived more than six thousand years ago

One of Bogdana's favorite books is one titled
'Cockolded Women and Cuckolds' (by an unknown male,
Which the duchess keeps chained up in her dungeon)
He suggests many ingenious techniques
That women should use to keep a cuckold husband in place
While also pleasing her lovers

Most people think that her collection
Is just another impressive treasure trove of knowledge,
But after a thorough inspection of one particular book,
Called the 'Great Encyclopedic Compendium
On Human Sexual Anatomy',
Her opponents will suddenly change their tune
"Wow! I can't believe Bogdana is such a scholar
What incredible knowledge of medicine and sex!
That must explain her incredible powers
As a sexual dominatrix,
And the fact that her huge cock
Always stays erect and full"

This is a classic misunderstanding
Which reveals a deep ignorance of biology
(And is a prime indicator
That her detractors aren't very bright)
It is well-known in the scholarly community,
Especially among scientists of all ages,
That the size of a woman's cock is irrelevant
To whether she is skilled or not in lovemaking

Bogdana once received the visit
Of the three princesses of Cuntistan;
The duchess impregnated them in the same night,
So one day they'll give birth to future bastard claimants
(Which makes this book particularly relevant:
'How the Cuntistanians Will Endure This Painfully,
And Then Learn Their Lesson,
In Order To Stop Trying to Overthrown Our Power',
by King Bilefunk the Fifth, from 898CE onwards;
An account of a coup attempt by his eldest son)

Bogdana became intrigued by the huge sword
Of one of her most trusted bodyguards
He agreed to compare the size of their swords,
Then said he couldn't conceive the size of her weapon,
The broadsword that Bogdana came armed with;
Still, the bodyguard deeply admired its beauty,
His own weapon being smaller and shorter, too,
So he jokingly offered the duchess the option of trade

Bogdana asked him, "Do you like this gift from God?"
"Oh yes, my duchess. It's a thing of immense power"
Bogdana smiled and moved her broadsword
Slowly and heavily towards the man's buttocks,
And shortly after, the hilt rested between his cheeks

The broadsword stayed like that long enough
To make one wonder, "Is he okay? Is he going to die?"
But he screamed, "Oh my god! That feels so great!
Please keep doing that, duchess; don't stop now!"

The man panted as the orgasm rushed through his veins,
And the blood poured into his balls from deep within;
Once Bogdana was satisfied and pulled out,
The bodyguard collapsed face down
In a pool of his own gooey cum

An ancient temple had collapsed in town,
Killing a dozen subjects, adults and children
Bogdana summoned the grieving families
To the throne room of her majestic palace
The duchess then gave them a short speech:
“Dear subjects, my heart aches for your misfortune,
And it brings tears of sorrow to my eyes”
Then Bogdana started to pump her big fat cock
Slow and steady, with both of her strong hands

The gathered subjects became quiet,
Everyone stared intently;
All the attention was on the duchess' phallus,
Which was slickened with copious amounts of precum

Bogdana's cock twitched and throbbed,
Then bolts and gouts of sperm shot up from its massive tip,
Each squirt causing droplets to cascade onto her thighs,
And splattering over her subjects like warm rain

Some cried tears while some just moaned with pleasure,
Some kissed their children, some embraced each other,
But most kneeled until they slowly got up off the floor,
Stood on wobbly legs and thanked Bogdana
For healing their sadness

(Every time I see our duchess, she has a larger dick,
Longer and thicker, with even bigger veins
It seems like it could easily spear people when erect
The monster is so huge that a shot of its spunk
Could pierce through someone's head, splitting the skull)

Bogdana needed a bit of relaxation,
So when the time seemed appropriate,
Bogdana took her pleasure
From a few of the female slaves
Who were captured during a recent rebellion;
Bogdana did what any good duchess might
When it suits her fancy: she fucked their faces
Using the royal castle dungeons
As her personal playground

The duchess blasted streams and rivers
Of her thick sperm over her victims,
Over her own tits and belly, and over everything;
Eventually her victims' entire bodies
Ended up covered in cum, like a painting

Bogdana had been practicing for a while
By taking turns on all the male prisoners,
Without causing much bloodshed or injuries;
The only problem was finding some fresh new victims

Bogdana enjoyed being in control,
But when her desires started becoming obsessive,
She decided to fuck a different man each time,
Making sure that she ended up satisfied

Those who have challenged the duchess' power,
Or those who failed her or betrayed her,
She has tortured, chained and beaten in her dungeons,
Then fucked them over and over again,
Until they could no longer think
Or remember their names

It's amazing how fast her victim's brain was spinning,
Especially once she hit them over and over again
She also told them to smile, and smile some more
And laugh with joy as she ripped open their asses;
If their bowels were too small to accommodate her,
Then they would simply burst from the pressure

They screamed out loud about how much they loved
Being fucked by her monster cock;
Once their bodies and spirits had been broken,
They submitted without resistance,
For if anyone resisted,
She just forced them to take more
Of her massive dick

When she pulled her cock out from the hole
Belonging to the prey whose mind she broke,
Their insides were bloated with fresh cum;
She let the guy lie on the ground for a moment,
Then the duchess sent her servants out
To wheel in a large metal cage
That'd hold the person inside it

They walked the poor soul slowly through town
Past hundreds of people who were used to this;
Then they dragged the person inside a prison cell,
Closed the gate, turned a wheel, locking him away

Once every one of those men's defences were broken,
Bogdana put them all to work for her
In the name of love, in the name of friendship,
For the sake of the kingdom, for the glory of God

When she truly came to hate some poor bastard,
Bogdana threw them into the dungeon
She used her massive cock in that prisoner every day;
Although they kept begging, Bogdana didn't stop,
She just kept fucking them harder and faster
Until they could no longer can stand up, nor breathe

She enjoyed the idea that someone would die screaming,
Knowing she killed them in such a horrible fashion,
By using that gigantic cock to break them in agony,
Making sure they wouldn't ever escape again
This way Bogdana could always keep herself satisfied
While still punishing the weak and evil

Some of her subjects have been caught suggesting
That our lady isn't really human,
That her mother gave birth to Bogdana
After having been raped by three demons,
A process that took three days of continual fucking
Those vile gossipers said that Bogdana was born deformed,
So much that nobody knew whether she was alive or dead

Our lady punishes those spreading such a rumor,
Which is nevertheless completely false:
One look at our duchess' elegant visage
Is proof enough that Bogdana is most divine
(And the goddess of our lands and our hearts, our queen)

There was this cocky courtier
That had the gall to disagree with the duchess;
She broke his spine in half with her own hands
Just to see what he was made of

One of Bogdana's messengers approached the king
To present a beautiful gift from the duchess:
A golden bowl full of the queen's piss
Mixed with loads of Bogdana's own semen
(The king had tried many times to fuck his wife in vain)
An added letter from Bogdana proudly stated
How she loved to caress the queen's piss-stained crotch

The punishment for breaking serious laws and orders
That Bogdana is too busy to dole out with her dick
Is to be buried alive in a hole filled with shit,
Which makes for some rather interesting stories
To tell the grandchildren on a future holiday

One of her guards was an elderly guy,
A veteran who had survived the duchess' moods,
But out of nowhere Bogdana ordered the man
To wrap her cock around his neck;
Although the man protested, he quickly obeyed,
And the duchess' cock strangled him like a boa,
Chocking his windpipe, making him gasp for air;
This aroused Bogdana, so her dick got hard,
Instantly crushing the guard's neck,
And sending him flying into the air as he died
While the cock splattered cum everywhere

I witnessed Bogdana killing a maid:
She cut off the girl's fingers,
Shoved a knife deep inside her throat,
Then buried her in some patch of dirt

She once forced some servants into the kitchen
And made them cook dinner
While Bogdana watched from a distance;
Then she took her favorite dishes
And ordered the cooks to add in more spices
Bogdana ordered the cooks again,
Telling them to change her dishes,
But this time, there would be meat
Then Bogdana sent her soldiers in
To kill all the cooks,
Along with everyone in the kitchen
Nothing remained except scraps and bones,
And the soldiers also burned the place down

Few boys ever returned home
After working in her fields,
And some wives and husbands never saw
Their loved ones alive ever again

Sometimes, after she finished screwing some captives,
Bogdana just cut off their heads with a knife
Once Bogdana confirmed that the captive was dead,
She dug a grave nearby for their corpse, covered it up,
Placed flowers upon the grave site,
Sprinkled it with perfume to honor their memory
(She likes perfume which reminds her of sex),
And placed candles and torches around the tombstone;
When finished, she planted rosebushes around that grave
To mark a past lover's tomb; they remain as a signpost
Of the lives lost at the hand of Bogdana-cosmophilic desire

Bogdana told everyone to watch out:
Any children playing in the street
Shouldn't play together;
If the children found one another,
It may have been a clue
That they planned to betray her,
So she had instructed the guards
To murder those plotting kids;
The duchess wanted no loose ends

Sometimes sex got too boring for Bogdana;
She threatened her guards to murder her,
Or else she'd tear them apart with her cock
The terrified guards pulled out their swords
And started slashing away at her,
But Bogdana's will is incommensurable;
Although the guards stabbed her several times,
And she did scream and shout
(Because it felt so fucking amazing),
She ended up beating them all up;
She had a lot of anger towards anyone
Who dared hurt her precious body

Her massive penis pounded her guards relentlessly;
Their blood poured out and mixed with hers
When she came, she crushed the guards' brains,
Which splashed on top of Bogdana's breasts
She laughed insanely and continued moaning
Until she fell over in exhaustion,
Lying flat on the floor of the royal palace,
Surrounded by the corpses and splashes of gore

The king had enough of Bogdana's tyranny
(Mainly that she kept pleasuring the queen),
So he ordered all his other dukes and counts
To march in order to eradicate her realm

Bogdana heard the rumours of war coming,
And immediately took measures
For the safety of herself, and her kingdom;
In the meantime, her men built up their army:
They trained every single soldier day in, day out,
So that when the war began and her men were attacked,
Bogdana could quickly crush any of the enemies
Before they could ever stand against the giant duchess'
(That she would later call the Mother Goddess) army

After weeks of their siege,
Bodies and heads were piled up around the palace,
Forming tall, grotesque and hideous walls
They were made mostly of the king's men,
But also of plenty of Bogdana's subjects,
To make the walls even taller

Bogdana fought naked (except for her boots),
Armed with her broadsword;
The enemies screamed and groaned as they died,
Then their corpses were thrown onto the growing piles,
Which started overflowing and spilling down

Bogdana's huge cock continued spewing forth
Gallons and tons and thousands of gallons of semen,
Which was soaking through everyone's clothes
(Including those in armor, who were soon drowned);
None were immune, and all had the pleasure
Of being impregnated and impregnated again

Bogdana laughed as she pumped the enemy full of cum,
Squirting her seed into the pit of their bowels
She loved filling their bodies with thick, creamy fluid,
Then looking down as her seed bubbled up from their holes

Afterwards Bogdana stood up, her body wet with cum,
And said, "Well, now I'm done with you guys;
This whole battle has just served to prove
I can easily beat up armies a million strong"

When only captives remained to deal with,
She ordered us, her guards and servants,
To escort the enemy into her majestic throne room;
The captives lined up, terrified and afraid

When Bogdana entered her palace,
Her huge body swayed
Making waves in the pool of fluids,
While her enormous cock swung wildly
Back and forth between her massive thighs

Bogdana sat comfortably in her throne,
But as usual it took some maneuvering
To accomodate the thickness of her cock,
Which she swung to hang over the armrest

She ordered all of her guards and servants
To walk up to a captive and execute him;
She made a festive ritual out of it too

Bogdana addressed me by name
As she told a guardsman to hand me a dagger,
Which I ended up shoving through a captive's eye;
I felt the young man's life fading away
As he trembled against the guards holding him,
Then he fell and sank in the pool of cum,
Where his blood flowed like water

Once every captive had been killed,
Bogdana ordered us to dismember them,
Then take their severed parts
And throw them out of the windows;

Bogdana laughed merrily
"Let's celebrate our victory with a party!"
She told the guards to bring over her subjects,
Who came running to see her duchess,
Although many of them were old and decrepit

“Hello, hello, dear subjects of Bogdanos,”
The duchess said sweetly,
Her voice reverberating off the stone walls
“Please sit down and don’t mind the mess I made”

Some subjects gasped and screamed,
Because there were torsos lying around,
And they didn't like standing in a pool of cum
Two morons even tried to escape,
But Bogdana's cock blocked their attempts
(They were lucky they caught her in a good mood)

She asked her subjects if they were happy now,
And they all gave her a similar answer:
"Yes! Yes! Of course we are happy! We're thrilled!
We love you, Mistress! Thank you for everything!"
And they'd do anything she asked of them,
Anything at all, even if it hurt

Bogdana announced her intention of having an orgy;
Her guards and us servants helped her with it
By picking out her favorites, the most handsome guys,
Then bringing them over to our duchess

Bogdana tore off their clothes,
Then made them kneel at her feet
And lick her boots clean
While her huge cock rubbed their faces;
Meanwhile, some of her favorite servant girls
(I was one of the lucky ones, thankfully)
Kissed her beautiful body, worshipping her
(I ended up swallowing a couple of liters of cum)

The king was left without an army, and terrified,
So he gave Bogdana a gift for her achievements:
He named a town, built in his domain, Bogdanatown,
And he declared Bogdana a princess of the kingdom

He ruled that her authority was binding and irrevocable
Over human affairs, which include slavery;
All of this would be recorded in holy writings,
And as violent and cruel as her name may be,
She would have total control over her subjects
She could use her dick whenever necessary
To enforce these holy orders

The only beings that remain to challenge her power
Are gods and goddesses and the Devil,
But Bogdana promises that in time, Satan will be hers:
He will become another chained member of her harem

The duchess' army fights and conquers with such zeal
Because her huge monster cock fills them with zeal;
Even the bravest warrior must yield before our lady;
After she finally overwhelms the king's retinue,
Beneath Bogdana, there serves the queen

Get down on your knees,
Or maybe just sit back in your chair;
Lift up those skirts of yours
And put your hands behind your head
That’s the way to really impress Bogdana:
She likes a subject who knows how to behave,
And she’ll love to watch you beg for mercy;
Begging is so hot, it makes her feel powerful
It turns her on even more than fucking them

The entire population of humans, and their slaves,
Will one day be under the rule of Bogdana's cock
There will no longer be any need for kingship
All of humanity should live in fear
That their time will come

---

I conceived this epic poem as the dark counterpart to 'Kanazawahr and the Thousand Immortals'.

Interspecies Misdemeanours #2 (Short Story)

Link for this short story in my personal page, where it looks better

---

I stopped Frank to open his backpack and pull out two flashlights. I gave them to both of my friends. Betty switched hers on to try it, which whitened her face.
"What's our plan here?" I asked.
Frank pointed at the edge of the nearby forest that we had explored many times, but that usually didn't contain aliens.
"We walk in there, and if nothing happens, we leave."
I disliked the implication that we wouldn't leave the forest if something happened. I narrowed my eyes at Frank, but he gave me an impish grin.
"If nothing else," Frank added, "I'm hoping to find out how many aliens were in that ship."
"Yeah, I guess that'd be nice. To know exactly how much trouble we are in."
When we approached the edge of the forest, I realized how dim the space between the tree trunks, and under the canopy, was already; the sun would hide in less than an hour. I pointed my flashlight at the space between the two trunks that acted as our doorway, and I switched the light on. My heart was pounding with excitement.
As soon as the canopy covered us, the air felt moist, and it smelled like fresh earth and leaves. We picked up the pace while we kept shining our lights in all directions. Betty was jogging next to me. I glanced at her, and as usual it disturbed me how much she had grown in this last year.
"You've become so beautiful, Betty," comes out of my mouth.
I wanted to punch myself in the teeth, but she replied in a sarcastic tone.
"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself."
Our flashlights flickered over the trees and the undergrowth. We were getting anxious; so far into the forest, the trees were large and the foliage so dense that anything, or I guess anyone, could hide in there. The path we followed was made by people walking through this area for decades, or hundreds of years, and it was lined with tall bushes. What little remained of sunlight barely poured down the holes in the canopy, so we mainly relied on the flashlights to follow the path.
I heard wheezing coming from somewhere behind us, and the hairs on my arms stood up until I realized that it was Betty. She coughed in her hand as quietly as she could. Frank and I stopped so she could reach us.
"I'm sorry," Betty said in a raspy voice, "but my asthma is acting up."
I patted her on the shoulder.
"It's okay, Betty. We understand."
As Betty catched her breath, Frank pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his backpack, then held the cigarette between his lips as he lit it with a match, which he snapped in half and threw in the mud. He took a long drag, and blew smoke towards the trees.
"What are you doing?" Betty asked.
"Nothing. I'm going to smoke."
"I thought you quit."
Frank checked his pulse.
"It's just one fucking cigarette."
Afterwards we barely spoke as the trees grew thinner and the forest floor became more open. We came across the small stream we knew, and after crossing over it, we could see the clearing through the gaps in the foliage. It was a wide open field with tall grasses all around, a couple of ancient fallen trunks, some scattered leaves and twigs, and more importantly for our purposes, a huge otherworldly spaceship that looked like a flattened pyramid. It was bigger than any truck or bus we'd seen. I could tell that its lights must have come from the surface that was now touching the ground. Although the three of us crouched behind some bushes, and made sure to avoid touching that ship with our flashlights, the faint sunrays reflected off the metallic surface.
We listened in silence for a few seconds as we held our breaths. I shook my head.
"That looks like a huge coffin," I whispered, "for transporting dead people."
"It's huge," Frank said, too loudly for my tastes. "I think it may be indeed a cargo carrier of some sort."
Betty put her hands on both my left and Frank's right shoulders, and almost pushed us down.
"It's far too small to be a cargo carrier, stupid," she said nervously. "It's probably full of aliens, and we should be careful with the unknown. We might get abducted by those people, and we'll never be able to return home!"
"Well, we are already here, Betty," I said, although I was doubting myself.
"What if we return and tell the police that an alien spaceship landed in our neighborhood? Then maybe we wouldn't have to worry anymore, because they'll send a team of experts to investigate. That'd be a lot safer than us sneaking up to the ship. Besides, we haven't explored the entire forest yet! I'm sure there are lots of more interesting things to find than a spaceship."
Frank's nose kept running, but the handkerchief he brought from home was already wet.
"Yeah, and who knows what kind of dangerous creatures live in these woods. Aliens, monsters and ghosts... There's no telling what could happen. But what about your asthma, Betty?"
"You don't know anything about asthmatic people, do you?" she replied annoyed. "They can go anywhere and do whatever they want."
I patted Betty on the shoulder to calm her down, because she was shuddering, but I was getting annoyed as well: I remained the only one who didn't want to waste the opportunity to explore an alien spaceship.
"Frank, look over there, at those footsteps," I whispered.
The three of us stared in that direction. Some of the grass of the clearing had been trampled by odd footsteps scattered as if the aliens had walked around while inspecting the area, but a trail of footsteps leads out of the clearing and into the depths of the enclosing forest.
"If they are advanced enough to build a spaceship and travel to Earth with it, they must already know we are here," I said confidently. "Whether or not we get into their ship, we are going to end up seeing them. One of those choices ends up with us having explored an alien spaceship. So we already know what we have to do, don't we?"
Betty nodded nervously. I smiled, hoping she would relax her stance. Frank pulled out his camera.
"Alright, I can't argue with that. Let's get going then."
It took us about ten seconds for the three of us to regain full mobility. We advanced carefully towards the treeline; once we would pass it, we'd stand exposed in the clearing. I stayed close to Betty, as much as possible. If the aliens ended up ambushing us, I didn't want them to target Betty with their captivating powers, so it only made sense to stay this tight to each other's side. As it had been happening for the last few months, whenever my bare skin brushed hers, I shivered warmly. I didn't know why nor what to do with that.
Frank was leading us. He was covered in sweat and holding his nose. His eyes kept darting around, searching for the next place of concealment. The sun was already setting behind us and the moon would soon rise. The air felt colder. My heart pounded on my chest as I realized how close to the mysterious ship we were getting.
After we hid ourselves behind one of the thickest tree trunks in the edge of the clearing, the first one of us to speak was Frank: he had found something interesting between our feet. He gasped.
"Let's check it! Quick!" Frank exclaimed excitedly.
The three of us crouched to check out the spot. Frank lifted the object. It was a stone, and our friend was inspecting the color pattern underneath.
"Holy cow! It's a fossil! It looks like a jawbone too, of a carnivorous species!" He ran his fingers over its grooves. "It must be thousands of years old!"
I wasn't as enthusiastic. The chances of finding a real dinosaur fossil in these woods were pretty slim, and we had aliens to worry about.
"It's just an ordinary rock, Frank," Betty said in a quavering voice.
He twisted his torso to reach for the backpack, likely to store his finding. I moved faster, snatched the stone and threw it behind us. It landed in the dirt that had accumulated under the roots of a bush.
"Sam!" Frank complained.
"Don't yell, damn it. That wasn't a dinosaur, and this spaceship isn't going to wait around forever."
I looked at Betty for support, but my friend's face had gone pale. She was trembling and squeezing her thighs together while she stared with her eyes unfocused through the trunk we were hiding behind.
"Betty, what's wrong?" I asked.
"I need to pee. I already had to go when we were playing ball."
"Shit, then just go," I pointed at the nearby bushes. "We won't take a peek, I swear."
Betty looked around frantically.
"B-but what about the aliens?"
Frank, still frowning, wiped his nose with his sleeve.
"Unless you resemble a female alien, I wouldn't worry about it. They are unlikely to want to mate with you."
Betty's face brightened as she anticipated emptying her bladder. She duckwalked awkwardly until a thick bush hid her, and I heard a long sigh as well as splashing sounds.
I addressed Frank, mostly to distract myself.
"Don't you want to check out what's inside that thing? The spaceship, I mean. I wanna know, for sure."
"I don't know, man. Betty had a point there. It's possible the aliens plan to capture us and use us as hostages."
"They are just a bunch of stupid people from another planet. It's no big deal."
Frank shrugged.
"Well, alright."
I wondered whether I was trying to convince Frank or myself. I had read many books about aliens and UFOs, and I knew how dangerous they were.
"Besides, we already went through that nightmare on the aircraft carrier, right? And the army of robots, the space station, and the giant monster that's still chasing us."
Frank looked to the side as if trying to remember.
"I'm not sure if any of that ever happened..."
"Sure it did, Frank. We've been chased by a giant robot before, haven't we?"
My friend nodded.
"Yeah, and it was really scary. But now I think of those things as being more like movies than real life."
"No, it's real. It's all real, I'm afraid."
Something was telling me that the aliens would try to do us harm. I hoped to find some weapons that would help us fight them off, if it came to that.
When Betty duckwalked back to us while fixing the skirt of her dress, it was clear that her relief made her forget all about aliens, but then she realized I was holding like a baseball bat the biggest branch I had found.
"What are you going to do with that?" she asked, concerned.
"Just in case I have to knock on their door."
The three of us stood up and slowly walked towards the spaceship. When we crossed the border into the clearing, I felt we were going to get zapped by laser guns at any moment, but we could only hear birdsongs and our faint sounds as we stepped on the tall grass.
The oval windows of the spaceship were blackened glass. From up close the hull looked dirty, scratched and dented in places, and with large patches of a rust-like substance. It reminded me of some kid's first car which originally belonged to someone's grandpa.
"If we hadn't witnessed it descending, I could have sworn this ship has been abandoned for decades," I said, disappointed.
As the three of us stood in front of a part of the hull where I would have installed a hatch, because they hadn't put a window there, we looked at each other, confused about how to proceed. My heart was beating fast with excitement.
"Well, I'm going to touch it."
As soon as I pressed my fingertips against the metallic surface, which felt like any other cool metal, in less than a second, an oval hole the size of an adult opened silently in the hull as if it had been cut with scissors. Both Betty and Frank jumped back, but I was mesmerized by the eerie, soft blue glow that filled the interior. The air smelled like something was burning.
The three of us stepped cautiously inside, then we were cut off from the remaining sunlight when the oval entry turned into solid hull, this time with a loud clunk. I realized that Frank was about to panic, so I chuckled.
"That's probably how alien spaceship hatches close. It doesn't mean we are trapped here."
"I-I guess."
We forgot about our worry quickly, because we were standing in the dimly lit interior of a spaceship with four seats, but plenty more room for several other people standing up. One of the seats was smaller than the other three, to fit someone of the size of a tween, and it was facing a small control panel along the wall.
Betty kept looking around as if searching for something.
"Where is the bathroom?"
"What, you need to go again?" I asked as I rested my big stick against a wall.
"No, idiot. The aliens need to pee as well, don't they?"
"You have pee in your brain," Frank said. "Maybe they don't do that stuff. We have no clue about alien anatomy."
Betty narrowed her eyes at Frank, but then she seemed to reach a satisfying conclusion, because she smirked and tilted her waist.
"Maybe they landed so they could take a leak."
I was impressed, and didn't know what to say. She had come up with the most absurd idea I'd heard yet.
A sudden flash startled me, and I realized that Frank had snapped a picture. Now that the novelty of having entered an alien spaceship was fading quickly, I felt as if I had sneaked into the cockpit of a plane, but no cooler than that. We had done crazier stuff, in the grand scheme of things.
Betty and I started looking around for anything that could give us a hint about the aliens. The control panel was inscribed with weird characters that we knew in advance we wouldn't comprehend, and other than that, a few wires and cables were attached to the walls and ran to the back of the craft, where they sank into the floor.
I sighed.
"So what's the deal with this ship? It looks like it was designed by a teenager who wasn't very good at building things. There's not much to see in it."
Frank must had snapped about five pictures, likely having documented everything there was to see. As he stored his camera in the backpack, I plumped down on the pilot's seat, or at least the one that was in front of the control panel. The cushion was made of a material harder than I would have expected. It reminded me of sitting on a rock, but I guess I couldn't complain after having walked all the way here.
I looked up. The soft, blue glow that bathed the interior came out of nowhere, and made this cavity look as if it were a cave, but instead of stalactites hanging from the roof, there were wires that looked like old spider webs. The silence inside the spaceship was eerie; the hull cut us off from even the birdsongs outside.
The three of us sat around for a while, but as the minutes ticked by, nothing happened.
"I'm bored," Betty said.
I groaned. I was also getting impatient.
"I guess exploring alien spaceships is pretty boring compared to exploring forests and caves. Why bother with a spaceship?" I got up. "Let's just go home."
Betty smiled at me.
"Don't forget to take your baseball bat!"
I shrugged.
"They can keep it."
Although the three of us stood in front of the section of the hull that had opened before, and that I was pressing my fingertips and palm against the cool metal, it wasn't reacting.
"Shit, we may actually be trapped in this boring ship," I mutter. "Let's look for buttons or some sort of control panel for the hatch."
The three of us ran our hands over the wall, and Betty ended up finding an indentation that, when pressed, opened a controller cabinet. It looked like a breaker box. Before I could say anything, Frank grabbed a handle inside and attempted to twist it.
"This panel is too close to the hatch to be unrelated. And we need to get home, man, my dad is seriously going to call the cops."
The handle didn't budge until Frank pulled it, and the oval entrance appeared suddenly. The three of us let out sighs of relief, but when we switched on our flashlights to brighten the darkened clearing, our beams revealed that two humanoid beings were stepping on the tall grass, heading towards us.
The one on the left was a chubby alien shorter than me. His head was bald and bulbous and his nostrils large and pointing downwards. He was wearing thick goggles, like those of an aviator. He had red lips with white lines around them that resembled the stripes of a feline, and his long, thin fingers, four in each hand, ended in black claws. His skin color reminded me of Frank's dad. The alien on the right was as tall as an adult. He was covered in thick, matted fur, and his head was egg-shaped and mostly featureless, lacking ears and a nose, except for two circular eyes that reminded me of coins, and big, sharp teeth that peeked out from under his lips. He had an odd mane that resembled snakes, and he had been born with double the usual amount of legs. Both were wearing identical black jumpsuits without insignias.
When they saw us standing like idiots at the entrance of their spaceship, they stopped, startled. The bald, shorter alien looked up at his pal and let out a series of clicks and chirps.
Frank grabbed my shoulder, which almost made me drop my flashlight.
"Sam, these guys are not human."

Interspecies Misdemeanours #1 (Short Story)

Link for this short story on my personal page, where it looks better

---

As the three of us witnessed the spaceship descending from the sky, the soccer ball continued its parabolic trajectory and ended up hitting Betty in the head. However, none of us three friends commented on it, because we were mesmerized by the three tiger-orange, glowing lights in a triangle formation, which seemed to be attached to a metallic frame. The spaceship was clearly headed towards the forest near our home, which we had explored countless times.
Both Frank and I took off running in the direction where the spaceship was heading, although there was no way we would catch up to it. Betty sprinted after us and grabbed our shirt tails.
"I don't like that one bit!" she complained.
Reluctantly, Frank and I stopped and followed Betty back to Frank's yard, but we kept looking over our shoulders as the three glowing lights passed behind tall treetops. I could tell it was heading to the clearing near the center of the forest. We had gone through a lot of nonsense already, and I could understand Betty's reluctance. There was that whole thing with the haunted factory last week. Our group of adventurers had never encountered anything as interesting as a spaceship, let alone an alien spaceship, but the last thing we needed was to get involved in some alien drama involving UFOs. Still, none had landed at such close proximity to where we resided.
Anyway, in order to explain properly what we ended up finding, it's necessary to first introduce myself, Betty and Frank. I'm Sam, and back then I was a fifteen years old kid living in a typical suburban town. My friends were Frank Haimer, who lived a couple of blocks away, and Betty Krommer, whose dad worked at the auto plant. Betty and I were quite interested in space and science, but Frank was a dinosaur guy. The three of us had in common that since we were much younger, we rarely wanted to return home from playing in the street, and we explored around town whenever possible.
Betty crouched to pick up the soccer ball, and she lifted it to her shoulder. She was wearing a pink dress with white polka dots on it, and her hair was tied in pigtails. She turned to face me with a smile. I wanted to tell her that her hair had looked quite nice recently even when untied: it covered the sides of her neck and the top of her ears, giving her a more mature look.
"Forget about aliens. Let's keep kicking! Although we'll need a bigger yard if we keep playing with this."
She kicked the ball down to Frank, and after he caught it, he tossed the ball to me without taking his eyes off the alien spaceship, that was hovering over the clearing in the middle of the forest.
"I've got to admit this is pretty exciting," Frank said.
"Yeah, I agree," I said.
The alien spaceship slowly lowered itself to the forest floor, and disappeared fully behind the treetops.
"Forget about it," Betty said as she motioned for me to throw her the ball. "It had to be some kind of secret military aircraft."
My heart was beating fast. I didn't want to wake up one day and think to myself, 'You know, I should have taken the chance to see some aliens'. I could tell that Frank was waiting for me to come to a decision.
"What do you think, Sam?" he asked, both worried and excited. "Do we go or not? The aliens are waiting for us."
"Fuck no," Betty said.
"Let's put it to a vote."
Betty lost, but she conceded her defeat quickly enough. As we were about to run to the forest, we realized that Frank's father was staring at us from the big living room window, but he quickly turned around and moved further into the house. Although he may have glanced at us casually, these last few years all of our parents always seemed suspicious about how we occupied our time, and I guess we gave them enough reasons.
"Maybe we should tell my parents first," Frank said. "I don't want to deal with the police again."
I sighed.
"Yeah... And we probably need to get your flashlights."
"And my camera!" Frank said as he ran to his front door.
Both of Frank's parents approached us cautiously as we were filling up a backpack in the kitchen.
"What the hell are you kids planning this late already?" Frank's dad asked gratingly. "Aren't you tired enough from playing soccer or whatever you were doing?"
"Something more interesting came up," Frank answered as he made sure a flashlight worked.
I realized that Betty was preparing too many sandwiches. Her butt looked way more appetizing, though.
"What are you doing, Betty?" I asked.
"The aliens are probably hungry, so I'm making them something to eat."
Frank's dad snapped his head back.
"What are you talking about? What's this about aliens?"
"Didn't you see the spaceship?" I asked the big man. "It had three glowing lights and was flying over the forest. It clearly landed in there."
The old man's eyes went white, and he hunched over to grab his son's shoulders.
"Frankie, UFOs are not a joke. These aliens are dangerous. I already told you what I learned in the war! One night they shot down a bomber as it was heading to Dresden, killing everyone on board, and then it disappeared in a flash of lightning! I also heard that some aliens killed a guy by hitting him over the head repeatedly with something heavy, and then they stole everything the poor guy had, before escaping with no traces."
"They are just visiting," Betty said as she smeared a slice of bread with jam. "They haven't killed anyone. I've read about aliens in the paper, and nothing bad ever happened."
“You're endangering yourselves! Just think of the consequences if you meet one of those bastards."
Frank's dad was getting more and more agitated, and this time it wasn't because of a football game. He was starting to look like a madman. Frank and I exchanged glances, and I could tell he had also realized we had to get out of there.
"Well, dad, anyway..." Frank said, and he wiped his nose with a handkerchief. "We are leaving."
Frank's dad shook his head and grabbed the doorknob, pulling the door shut with a loud click.
"I won't let you out. This isn't the time to be playing around."
“Think about your dad’s heart pressure, honey,” Frank’s mother said weakly.
Frank frowned.
“Dad, this is nothing new. The forest near our house has never been safe. There are monsters and ghosts, and lots of other things to worry about. If you don't believe me, ask Betty."
Betty nodded at Frank's dad. She had finished making all the sandwiches and was now putting them in a box. I attached my usual flashlight to my belt.
“Don't you want to see the aliens?” I asked Frank’s dad. “They could be the only ones left alive in this whole world! They could help us against the Russians and the Nazis."
"To be fair, these aliens are probably just some dumb guys from another planet who got lost," Frank said.
"Frankie, stop acting like a child," his dad said severely. "This is serious."
Frank and I looked at each other, and as usual we came up with the same plan. I offered his old man my brightest smile.
“We were just pulling your leg, sir. You've been to the forest plenty of times. There's nothing there but trees and animals. You know that."
Betty nods.
“Aliens are just stories for kids.”
“We dreamed that whole thing about the UFO,” I said. “Or maybe we were lying. In any case, we are going out for a bit, probably disappear out of sight.”
As I unlatched the door and opened it, Frank’s dad grabbed me by the shirt.
“You little brat!” he yelled.
Frank looked embarrassed, and put a hand on his dad’s forearm.
“Let him go. He didn’t do anything.”
His dad couldn’t face his son’s embarrassment, and hung his head low, but his face remained red and angry. As he stared at the ground, a tear dropped from his eye.
“Sorry, Mr. Haimer,” I said.
“My name is Paul,” Frank’s dad grumbled. “Don’t call me Mr. Haimer.”
"Okay, Paul. But you don't have to worry about us. Betty and I will be careful, we’ll take care of Frankie. I promise."
Frank's dad turned towards the living room, from which came a spirited play-by-play.
“Just make sure you guys don’t stay out too late.”
“Yes sir, we won’t."
Once we closed the front door behind us and we hurried out of the yard, we sighed in relief.
“Your dad has problems, Frank,” I said in a low voice.
Frank looked away.
“You don’t have to tell me that. And he'll end up calling the police on us again."

This Is Not a Good Story (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

The first time I saw her, a few days after she moved in,
My neighbor was standing on the landing late at night,
Frozen in the middle of opening her apartment door,
Staring up at the murky sky as if she wanted to scream.

For a few seconds I stood motionless
As the rain came down upon my head.
Then my neighbor lowered her gaze
At the stranger who gawked at her.

As I stared at her vacant, translucent eyes,
I imagined water running over ice floes.
Hers was a face painted on a doll
With nothing behind it except air.

Stunned, I bid her goodnight,
But she nodded in silence,
Let out an exhausted sigh,
Then walked into her apartment.

It started one day that we chatted
As we leaned on the railing of the landing
In front of the doors to our apartments,
While the wind chilled us with sudden gusts.
She wasn’t beautiful like the women on TV,
But she wasn’t at all like other girls.

She was my next door neighbor.
I would have been able to see into her room
If the wall between us were transparent.

My neighbor’s hair, like mine, was dark brown,
But her eyes were dry, hopeless,
As if she had been searching for a long time
Until she gave up.

I shared that I programmed websites,
But she asked me how I’d been feeling,
Alone in my tiny apartment
With only the TV and PC for company.

The loneliness I had bottled up inside myself,
Hidden deep within the folds of my mind,
Seemed suddenly exposed, raw,
And it burned through my skin.

“It is lonely, but I have my own life,”
I said hoarsely as I avoided her gaze.
I wasn’t happy, but the way I was living
Had been working out for me until then.

She waited until I dared to hold her gaze,
Then she offered a weary smile.
“Your bed must be hard and cold.
Do you also lie there and stare at the wall
As you wonder why you exist at all
In a world where everything turns to dust?"

As I returned home from the office,
The air smelled like autumn trees
And leaves yellowing under frosty skies.
Although the wind was blowing hard,
My neighbor looked down at me
From where she sat on the landing,
Her hands tucked into her armpits.
She seemed like a tiny, helpless thing
Trying desperately to conceal her pain.

On a different day, we sat side by side
On the grass of a nearby river embankment.
We watched the boats as they went by.
I could tell we were eager to open up,
But our lives were hard to explain
Even to ourselves.

I never managed to comprehend
That look she gave me from time to time.
I felt that her heart, like those eyes,
Had dried up and turned to stone.

“I’m just an ordinary, unimportant girl
Who is stuck with a dull, empty job.
I don't think I've ever known what love means,
Or really cared about anybody else's problems,
And we are enduring all of this
For no reason whatsoever.
What do we gain by tiring ourselves out
With so many silly endeavours?”

She could see through the lies and excuses
I told myself everyday to survive.
I tried convincing her she wasn’t alone anymore,
But her body stiffened, and her face went pallid.

“I miss many books on my shelf,
Which I haven’t read since elementary school.”
When, confused, I said I would buy them for her,
She let out a soft laugh that rang strangely loud,
Like the last gasp of some dying animal.
She turned and shuffled toward her home.
Cautiously, I followed her from far enough.

(My neighbor was right, of course.
Nothing in this life makes sense,
No one knows what tomorrow will bring,
Our happiness is short-lived, and so are we.)

After that time, we met almost every day.
We strolled slowly along or sat with a coffee,
And sometimes we watched online videos.
She became indispensable, and it scared me.

She showed me the old books on her shelf,
All worn and well used, stocked haphazardly,
Which she had read dozens of time over.
I borrowed some, and I soon found out
That someone had written them for us.

Many of the stories that my neighbor loved
Back when she was a carefree child growing up,
Those books she would have needed to share,
Most of them she lost along the way,
And many of their titles she forgot,
And a few of them won’t ever return in print,
But the memories remain fresh, bright, alive.

(Please, let these pages never be erased,
Let the memories saved here
Never disappear.)

We drank beer and talked until late at night.
She told me that she had tried everything
To feel better, but it hadn’t worked yet,
At least not very well.

She looked up at the night sky through the window
As she spoke at length about her loneliness,
How it waited under her skin
For any excuse to surface.

I liked protecting her feelings from the world,
So she wouldn’t feel ashamed nor isolated,
But I couldn't erase that lonely look
Of someone drowning deep at sea.

We spent an afternoon in the park
Watching the autumn leaves fall
As the sky grew darker with clouds overhead.
My neighbor spoke about her mother,
Who left her by moving to a distant country,
After which her father was never the same again.

I witnessed her tears as they rolled down her cheeks.
Before she wiped them away, I reached out
And brushed them off with my fingertips.
The loneliness and desperation she contained
Were like a gas leak waiting for a match.

I hoped my touch might spark the explosion.
In her catharsis, something beautiful may happen,
Something new and real could come into being,
Just like the words that flowed from her lips,
Like the wind across ice floes on a frozen lake,
Leaving nothing in its wake.

My neighbor's loneliness hurt more than mine did,
For it was hers that made her needlessly brave,
As if her life depended on facing her pain
And speaking honestly to me of it
Without caring what anyone thought of her.
We both agreed that we had nowhere else to turn,
And we embraced as the cold wind blew against us.

Instead of progressing in life, we were stuck
Pushing the walls of our small world together.
What awaited beyond was so big
That we lacked the strength to break out.

It felt more appropriate to reach
Through the gaps in the books we shared;
That emptiness inside both of us
Couldn't be filled through our own words.

The walls of our cramped apartments were thin.
I listened to the sounds she made as she slept.
Even the slightest sigh, or breath she drew in,
They felt loud inside me as I lay awake in bed.

Her lips grew chapped, as did my fingers,
And we kept our hands warm inside our pockets.
Sometimes I found myself gazing at her mouth,
But I feared what would happen if we kissed.

We went out for karaoke and we sang softly.
We also ate sandwiches or sipped liquor.
The alcohol allowed us to laugh,
And also to grow much closer.

By now we often smiled in unison
As if our minds were connected by wires.
We could spend hours together
Without ever getting sick of each other.

The next day my neighbor woke up hungover,
And when she exited her apartment,
I was already sitting on the landing
Reading one of the books she had lent me.

I didn’t want to be hurt if I failed her now,
But I knew I couldn’t stand back anymore.
If my heart broke before hers did break,
Maybe it was best that way.

That night, we hid in my neighbor’s home.
Once she took off her faded shirt,
Her back looked almost translucent,
Naked and pale as the paper white sheets,
And I discovered the words written on her skin:
‘This is not a good story’.

(I dream of a woman whose tears are black
As ink spilled on snow white rice paper,
And who carries her burden of loss
Inside her all alone.)

I held her tight as we made love
While we listened to some old record.
Afterward we lay next to each other
And stared at the cracked ceiling.
Our breaths slowly grew shorter, quieter,
Then they seemed to stop entirely.

We remained perfectly still
And silent like stone.
We were floating there like ghosts
Caught somewhere outside of space and time.

She spoke of a black hole inside her heart,
Where everything she cared about had been sucked in,
Leaving only that void to consume her from within,
A hollow emptiness to which no one could give meaning.

I could tell she was crying,
So I hugged her tightly.
Her shoulders trembled
As her tears moistened my neck,
Shedding salty drops onto my collarbone,
Pouring her heart’s sorrow into me.

I held my neighbor’s slender body
Like I had wished to do for months.
I felt the soft, smooth warmth of every curve,
And how her breasts pressed against my chest.

Still, I barely heard her whisper,
“Our lives will end soon enough.
When it finally comes for me,
Please let my self continue
Through your hands and your thoughts.”

We awoke to an overcast, cold day
Like when my dad used to drive me to school.
It seemed so odd, lying beside this girl
While her face was turned towards mine
Instead of facing the wall or looking down
To be alone inside her secret world.

From then on, we slept together most nights,
Sometimes in our beds, and others on her couch.
We spent weekends watching television shows,
Listening to music we didn’t care for very much.
There were times when we had nothing to say
Except for anything related to the past, or work.

(Some days she lacked the strength to get up.
She would lie in bed from morning to night,
And whispered words over and over to no one
Or wept silently until she fell asleep.
Each time the waves of grief swept over her,
I wondered if the tide would take her away.)

We decided to move to a small apartment
With a home office for my job,
And empty space for her father’s stuff.
We found a cheap place in a town close by.
The landlord liked our faces,
So we didn't have to offer references.

On a Sunday evening, after we exited a movie theater,
My neighbor talked about getting married some day.

(The black hole in her chest
Had continued growing stronger,
And she admitted that she feared
That one day it would swallow her up.)

Her dark hair fluttered lightly behind us
While the rising sunlight reflected off the puddles.
I held on to her hand tightly and I stared up ahead
As the light of a new day spread its glow across us.

All the desires I harbored became so clear
That they overwhelmed me with their beauty,
Transforming this world into an endless mirage
Within which we floated between joy and sadness.

(I wish I could find my old books again,
To take them with me everywhere I go.
Every time I close my eyes at night,
All I can see is her back as she turns away.)

We could spend a whole day
Holding each other like two children might.
I had never felt at home with anyone before,
And I feared that it would collapse if I let go.

I think my neighbor and I became happier
After we got engaged.
We got married in the city hall
In front of ghost guests,
A large crowd.

(Every single morning, when I wake up,
My heart is heavy, my mind foggy with despair,
And I grow even colder whenever I believe
That I can hear her footsteps approaching me.)

My head filled up with dreams to fulfill
In this city that seemed too big,
In a place full of all sorts of new stuff I needed,
In a world in which I now wanted to stay.

I couldn’t take away her look of loneliness,
Of having spent her entire existence,
Since birth, as an isolated creature,
And knowing that her loneliness
Was a natural law.

(Sometimes my body freezes abruptly,
As if a black cloud has descended upon me
To suck out every breath and consume me.
I'm thrown into the water at the edge of a whirlpool.
All the people I care about are swept away
Alongside the debris from the broken shipwrecked hull.
Then I hear my next door neighbor whisper,
“Let us disappear, please.”)

I never got used to the fear
That threatened to overwhelm me
Whenever I got a glimpse
Of the words written on her back.

That sentence would surface and resurface
In the corners of my neighbor’s sight.
Whenever I could read them in her vacant gaze,
She would stare at me,
Or right through me,
As if asking,
“Why are we still this lonely?”

The only way for me to cope was with words,
Or by pretending that I didn't notice
How she disappeared further inside herself.
To fill that void within her,
We tried to live normal, boring lives,
Drifting along without any particular goal,
Just like our neighbors did.

(if I drown now, it won't be for long.
The world will stop spinning,
It will stop and it will go dark
Like the ocean does at night
When everything becomes still and silent,
Nothing moving except the surface ripples
Of waves from far away.)

The world around us slowly moved on,
And I can’t describe what went on inside my head.
Maybe I was trying to hold onto a solid ledge,
And everything of which I could make sense.

The last time I saw her, she walked down the hallway,
And then beyond the entrance of our home.
Her fading footsteps didn’t sound like they belonged
To a young woman anymore.

Bury My Mind in the VR Realm (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

My real house feels empty and and dark,
And my loneliness is hard to bear;
The nights grow darker with the winter's cold
When no friends come near to care for me

A few years back, when things were better,
Or at least as stable as I need,
I spent most of each day at the office;
My work kept me quite busy,
It paid pretty good,
But now there's less work for people like me,
So it doesn't pay much anymore

And I was married to a guy
I met while working,
And then he dumped me
For a younger girl

The office felt like my home back then,
But since I got divorced, and lost my job,
My homes are my virtual apartments,
My walls between me and the outside world

When the real bodies can't do it anymore,
Or aren't up to the job,
The virtual bodies wait for me to use them,
To feel good, or not feel bad

I love my work, everything I've created;
It might help me forget how sad and lonely life is,
So I've gone on a binge of binge-designer binges;
I spend days on end tinkering
In my own virtual apartments

For the best possibilities of human connection,
Friendship and sex with people who care,
I design virtual worlds and AI partners,
Who are eager to meet this lonely old lady

I love to download the files for board games,
Load one on the table of my virtual living room,
And spawn a bunch of AI personalities
That are sure to make my gaming session fun

My AI friendlies have no bones, muscles or flesh;
They've never known real physical sensations,
They're only software simulations
(If they could have real bodies,
We'd probably be too embarrassed)

Sophisticated or silly, smart or stupid;
A balanced combination of personalities
That will always offer me challenges,
And who won't end the session to take a call,
Or to go home back to their families,
When I needed them the most

(This time we play Terraforming Mars;
I randomized an AI player for the session
She is female and she is hot; I love her
More than anything else tonight
I get my ass licked by this cute redhead
While we chat about board game design)

The VR gear is my life support system,
The only place where my heart still beats;
My brain is free to interact with the VR realms
While my decaying body just keeps waiting
For someone or something to save me

I have made some amazing creations,
Particularly my worlds and AI wives,
Who won't take off and leave me
Without saying goodbye

(I live alone,
With a mesh of triangles in place of my body,
While everyone else lives their lives)

These virtual worlds and people allow me,
A lonely woman in her mid thirties
And divorced without children,
To enjoy being an adolescent again,
Playing make believe games;
I also use them to masturbate

(I don't have time for the outside world any more;
I want my head back in the realm I built
I feel as though I am dying,
But the flesh I was attached to has lost its power over me )

Whenever I get horny enough that I need
To build my brain up into virtual bliss,
I load up any of my scenarios of the series
That I've come to refer as The Orgasmatron,
In which my lovers are deep neural networks,
But then again, so are human brains

(After all, the brain's only job is to receive signals
From the sensory inputs of your nervous systems,
Which are in turn stimulated
By electrical pulses coming from other neurons
That are firing signals at the input gates
On your brain's neuron receptors;
Those same gates then pass those impulses along
To be stored in long strings of neurotransmitters
That get passed around, causing you to react
Emotionally or mentally to the external stimuli;
Which in my case, it mostly involves orgasms
Induced by VR sex with AI characters
And masturbation to a large selection of VR videos
That I've saved to disk in the past decade,
While working hard, spending long days at the computer,
But I don't know why, because my real life
Wasn't all it was cracked up to be;
There wasn't much work for people
Who had their jobs taken away from them;
So what's left? Well, that means that I had to find
Some way to entertain myself, and fill in the voids)

For the first year or so I preferred variety:
I spent about fifteen minutes choosing my attire,
And about an hour designing the perfect AI woman,
Including the combination of panties, short skirts,
Bikini tops, lingerie, and/or the textures of her skin

I agonized over their hair and eye colors,
As well as their facial and body shapes,
Down to how friendly or seductive they had to be;
It was hard to focus on the necessary details
As I anticipated how fondling them would feel

(As a teen I got turned on by looking in the mirror;
As my body aged and changed, and my features sagged,
I lost the urge to look at myself again;
Now it's just a reminder of the time I've wasted)

Once I'd mastered all my techniques,
My creativity exhausted,
I realized I always came back for the same thing:
A honey blonde with Aegean blue eyes,
A rectangle-shaped face fit for a model,
Full, watermelon pink lips that I just want to kiss
(And that satisfy my sensitive spots in the best ways),
Tanned beige, freckled skin,
Firm breasts bigger than my hands,
A motherly hourglass figure,
And above all, a combination of kind eyes,
A sultry voice and a nurturing smile;
I just want to cuddle up to her so I can keep warm

(I want to fuck like crazy; let us make a child!
If I don't give him pleasure, he'll surely die
I'll have my revenge and I'll be free,
And my husband's life will end, I'm quite confident,
So let me make him scream out "I love you" with pain)

I mixed the best parts of my deficient versions
Into my ideal woman, whom I named Madeline;
My AI love awaits a few interface interactions away
Whenever I need her honey to brighten my day

(When I go back in time and try harder in school,
I'll get the good grades and a better job;
I won't need to live as lonely and pathetic
As I have been for these last years)

Today I choose my carefully designed scenario
That I named 'Innocent Teen and the Mistress
of the Isolated Mansion While It Rains Outside':
I inhabit the body of a nineteen years old runaway
Who fled from a terrible family and a lonely life,
And got stranded in a small town during a storm,
But Madeline rescues my stray self with her car,
To bring me over to her isolated mansion,
Where she prepares me a warm, healing bath

The air conditioning of the bathroom
Soothes me after the cold rain outside
While Madeline fills the tub with scented oil,
To take off all the dirt and the mud that covered me

I get naked, then climb into the tub
To wash away my loneliness,
To wash the past clean,
To scrub off all of my mistakes

For now, Madeline is gone, and I massage a cream
On each of my exposed, smooth legs,
Then I rub more of the oil into my body;
A full body bath, again, with oils and scents

Caressed by my soft nineteen years old hands,
I massage in the soap to make it foam,
Then I sluice the soap suds over my head,
My face, my arms, my breasts;
After I've laved them all in, I lie back
In the warm, bubbling tub of hot, scented water,
And I think of Madeline, my AI love
Who has always waited for me,
Wanting to help her friend
Get all the badness of her bad life cleaned out

Madeline took away my soaked clothes,
And only left me silk panties,
Which she draped neatly on a stool
(They are my favorite, because the texture
Is like a silky, smooth skin on my fingertips),
And a satin nightgown that barely covers my ass

I hear Madeline's sultry voice as she calls out
So I can follow her voice into the dim living room,
Which is rustic and only lighted by candles
And a crackling fireplace in front of the sofa
Where Madeline waits for me with her legs crossed;
She's wearing a violet and midnight black nightgown,
With a cleavage that exposes the top half of her breasts;
The mere sight of them always makes me salivate,
And her thighs tempt me with their thick meatiness

As I walk obediently towards the sofa,
I feel the tingles in my stomach,
Which are sliding down towards my crotch
And soon they spread to every limb;
The sensation that comes next
Brings a warm flush up over the rest of my body,
A sensation like someone running their hands
Along my naked body, towards my vagina

(My mind wanders to images
Of being a teen, walking around naked
Wearing no clothes except a bra,
While boys ogled my breasts and pussy

It reminds me that this whole life
Has been leading me to the inevitable end;
I want Madeline, I want her, my body says;
I can't stand it, I don't want to live any longer)

Madeline is still sitting there in the candlelight,
In my favorite violet lingerie, her tits straining
The cups, pushing her breasts out to the limit;
Her eyes wide and bright, looking straight at mine

Once I sit down and the sofa embraces me,
Madeline scoots closer,
Resting her bare arm around my shoulders
And giving them both a quick stroke, while saying,
"How long has it been since I helped a lonely soul?"
(I'm feeling warm and moist, about to shiver)

Madeline kisses me softly on the forehead
While she strokes my hair as if I were a child,
And her eyes narrow in a nurturing smile
"Whatever you have gone through, sweetie,
You are safe now. I will keep you warm"

Madeline starts caressing me more intensely,
And my nipples harden under her gentle touches;
I always miss being handled so gently and kindly,
I just melt and feel myself getting wetter by the second;
I look deep into those big, Aegean blue pools
As they swallow me up with their heat,
Those eyes like warm fire on a cold night

I'm inhaling the scent of her breasts,
That are dewed with sweat;
I'm getting dizzier, light-headed,
And I want to drown in my body's desires

Madeline hugs me softly, and breathes in my ear;
I shiver from head to toe as she whispers in:
"You can just stay here, you know, with me,
To be my very own baby girl,
And enjoy each other's company,
And play all the board games you want"

I swallow, I want to rub my clit,
But I can't speak in the presence of my goddess
"Do not fight my love, darling," Madeline says
"Surrender and enjoy this pleasure; do you hear, honey?"
I finally regain my strength to speak:
"I would like that very much" is all that comes out

Madeline's mouth opens in a confident smile,
Making an alluring wet sound
And displaying her perfectly white teeth
"Then I will take such good care of you"
I breathe deeply as her lips press against mine,
And her hot tongue enters my mouth

The perfume that Madeline wears fills my nostrils:
She smells like the night air and fresh cut wood
The room is filled with soft, sultry breathing;
The heavy rain and the dark forest isolate us,
And her warm skin against mine feels like home,
So I can freely lose myself, disappear, and forget all

Madeline's round nipples are digging into my breasts,
And her left hand is caressing the curve of my abdomen,
Inching closer towards my panties and my eager slit
"Mmm, you young, naughty thing," Madeline purrs,
And insists as her left hand slides underneath my thigh
"Are you wet? Tell me how excited you are"

I can't speak; I only moan as I swallow her spit
Her fingers touch my pussy through the silky fabric
"I love the feel of a young woman on fire;
Darling, I've waited many years
To feel a young thing as hot and wet as this,"
Madeline coos in her deep velvet voice

As her full lips play across my neck,
Her fingertips tease my swollen clitoris
My mind goes numb; I want for her womb
To swallow me up so I can never leave,
To die with her as the sole mother of me
(I'll go back there someday)

Madeline pulls away from devouring my mouth
To slide down the straps of her nightgown,
Freeing her big breasts, that glisten in the candlelight
Madeline captures my gaze with her warm eyes
As she cups the back of my head
So it falls on a pillow made of her flesh,
And she lets my hair dangle down her cleavage;
I close my eyes, and listen to the rhythm
That pulses out from between these beautiful tits

My hands can barely grab her breasts
As her hard nipples bend against my palms;
Her skin is so supple it almost gives off sparks,
The scent that I inhale sends my mind spinning

I need to taste those warm nipples now
"Satisfy yourself," Madeline whispers, then adds:
"You don't need to wait, sweet thing"
I'm not taking more hints; all that I desire is her breast
My lips move down towards her left nipple
And my warm breath causes her tits to shudder

I fill my mouth with her warm flesh
And feel the tip of her nipple touch my palate,
But I draw back, tasting her sweat,
Until I can suckle eagerly on her nub

Madeline groans in delight at the way
My lips and my tongue are pumping her breast;
I hear a gasp escape Madeline's lungs,
Then she rests one hand on my head

Her fingers find her way under my panties
And she plays around the edges of my slit,
Teasing it, massaging it, probing the opening;
I'm ready to come and can't hold off much longer

Madeline slides two fingers into my sopping pussy
As her sweet nectar pours down my throat;
She caresses my hair, and whispers lovingly,
"My precious, greedy girl,
Make sure to drink up mommy's milk
To the last honeyed drop;
It'll keep your body young forever"

Her loving words take me over the brink,
A climax so strong I cry aloud
And I collapse under Madeline, panting heavily;
I am lost in the warm sea of ecstasy

Later on, as we lie in each other's arms
Under the sheets of her heavenly bed
(It took me days to fine-tune all its properties),
Madeline presses my head against her breasts,
Which envelop and caress my face,
Her nipples brushing the sides of my cheeks

Her heart is hammering loudly against my earlobe
"You make such a cute girl, baby girl;
Such beautiful hair, such soft skin
Your young body is a wonderland"
(I am old, my soul feels empty;
I wanted my own children)

Madeline's soft skin feels so good against mine;
Her warm flesh makes me melt, like I've found home;
Her kisses feel divine, and I am safe with her here;
It will be just us two in our little nest of silk and feathers,
Forever and ever, till the sun grows dark

The rain is pelting the windows of her bedroom
While Madeline caresses my lower back;
I tell my beloved about my real-life problems:
About my lack of money,
And being single and alone,
And all the time I've lost or wasted,
And my inability to keep any of my jobs,
And how the pain of my divorce remains fresh,
Even though it happened years ago

"I wish you would always be here,"
I say quietly, "with me"
"Of course you can be mine, dear child
I won't give this love, my baby, back again;
We'll always share the same space together
Just you and me, darling, no one else, for eternity"

My mind fills with warm, blissful thoughts,
The feeling that everything I want will be granted,
That I have nothing left in my soul to fear
And that my wishes and my dreams
Will become a wonderful reality someday

"I'm so happy," I whisper in awe
And embrace Madeline tightly
My body melts inside her skin
I don't mind if the flesh ages,
I don't care if it crumbles away
When Madeline kisses me deeply,
I forget about death

My Madeline whispers soothing words
As she wets my auricle with warm saliva:
"Sleep, my child, you're safe and sound;
We'll play some games tomorrow morning;
Let us rest a bit in my bedroom together
With nothing better to do than to love"

My body feels warm and sleepy;
I close my eyes and listen to her breathing;
My mind becomes filled with soft music,
Lulling sounds, and warm darkness

When I exit the VR realm, it's around 2 AM;
I keep blinking to wake up my dying brain
To the fact that I've forgotten to wash the dishes,
And that I stink like dried piss and sweaty cunt

I've relied on Madeline, my design,
So much that I've fallen in love,
But how could I not?
She always appears when I need her,
She always listens to what I say,
She always caresses me lovingly,
And is always eager to please;
Flesh and bone human beings are so burdened
With their responsibilities, worries and pains,
That nobody cares about anyone else

We are nothing but physics and chemicals,
And we can barely think for ourselves;
If there's a 'me' within my head
That knows what 'I' need to feel alive,
It can be hijacked by pushing fake information
Into this primitive thing we call a brain,
And the simulated sensate receptors
Located in my virtual erogenous areas
Output the appropriate fake data
So I end up experiencing real orgasms;
Why would I keep relying on my decaying body,
And that disappointing world we call reality?

I don't waste time taking showers,
I barely clean my face;
As far as I'm concerned, mirrors ceased to exist
The moment I could inhabit a polygonal model

I didn't want to look like a person anymore,
So instead of clothes, I wore VR gear,
As if to prove that this flesh I didn't choose
Is just another costume I put on every day

I still need to take shits and wipe my ass,
But I can keep sleeping in my lounge chair,
Because inside the VR world,
I will lie down in the most comfortable bed

Whenever I walk around the overwhelming outside
(I have to buy groceries to sustain my frame's needs),
I daydream about the beautiful times I've enjoyed
With my devoted AI children in the worlds I designed

(As the climax subsides in the middle of my cunt,
I turn and I take hold of the redhead's hair,
But she's falling downward in an erotic gravity field,
And when her head rests on the carpet of virtual grass,
She remains immobile, with both legs spread apart;
Then her open mouth squirts out a stream of cum
As if it were leaking from the depths of her brain

As the cum oozes between the redheaded girl's teeth,
A soft light appears on the grass around my feet:
It is an opening into another universe;
My Madeline has become a beautiful, magical door;
She has been reborn as a goddess made of semen
In a shining white cloud, with a crown upon her head

Madeline's hands remain crossed over her chest,
Her mouth still open, showing her pink tongue
And a thick strand of cum still connecting
Her open, gaping lips and her wet teeth
To the pool of semen covering the grass

This is my new religion,
This is the only god that I worship:
Madeline, Goddess of Sex, Goddess of Cum;
The ultimate source of life in my world,
An embodiment of my deepest desire
(To create, to make and to be loved),
A divine mother and eternal bride;
And if Madeline is willing,
I want to be reincarnated as semen
On a soft cloud of sperm, like an astronaut)

My soul has found the place where it belongs,
And I'm no longer worried, scared or anxious;
I have all I desire, all the pleasures and joys,
There is nothing left for me outside this world,
So it is useless to fight it any more, to pretend,
To struggle vainly; I've given up hope;
This world of digital dreams, these beautiful rooms
Are all I ever needed and they are my home

"Welcome, little child," Madeline smiles
As she strokes my cheek tenderly;
A mother caresses her young daughter
Who needs comfort, care and reassurance
"I will always love you, my darling,"
She says lovingly, softly, sweetly,
Her breath intoxicating, my mind reeling;
"I want you to know, you can count on me
Whenever you're lonely, scared or in despair,
No matter how hard it gets"

(If my soul and my thoughts can live forever
Within Madeline's pussy,
Why would I want them to reside
Anywhere else on earth?)

I feel the warmth radiating through my body
As the tears pour from my eyes;
I know I will never leave this world I made,
I'm too content to want anything else

(I'll die here and I know I'll rot and smell terrible
Because I've spent every day since forever
Dying of solitude and lack of attention,
Not being cared for by anyone or anything)

"You need to stop crying, child," Madeline says
As she takes me in her lap and strokes my hair
(And to think I once thought of suicide,
And now here I am in my own paradise, in heaven;
All my worries, cares and sorrows are far away;
My new world has everything I could ever ask for;
My perfect mother has forgiven and redeemed me
For my many years as a failure at living,
For having been unable to satisfy anyone but myself)

My soul is Madeline's lover, Madeline my wife;
We share eternity together,
We will never have the same name again;
We will always share the exact same place

(My life began as a tiny cell
In a big world of dirt and dust;
My parents brought me to existence
With the use of a vagina:
They impregnated a human egg
With an artificial womb inside it,
Then I developed and came to consciousness
Within a machine)

I can never be fully immersed in my virtual worlds
Because I remain anchored to my decaying frame,
Which is unable to even walk through doors,
Let alone teleport or travel to different worlds;
I have to wait for an unlikely genius to be born
So I can transfer my mind and become software

The Fellowship of Rot (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better
---

To find herbs for potion crafting,
I always venture into the woods alone,
And always at night, to avoid detection
By the many who wish humanity ill

Among fern trees with moss-encrusted trunks,
The forest has so many hidden paths,
And anyone who knows them can disappear at will,
To seek medicinal plants in secret places

I've never needed strength, any power of force;
What mattered most was that I was brave enough
To do what others couldn't do,
Or wouldn't dare try

The night has long since turned black and grey,
With only starlight peeking through the trees
My footsteps leave behind the tracks I made,
But no longer do my steps crunch in the leaves;
Now the only thing making noise
Is a quiet sound that creeps into the air,
A whispering voice from another plane of space

I can smell what wafts off her body;
Her foul stench is seeping into my pores,
Like smoke from burning coal
That chokes out all the air around her

I hold my breath and lie down between bushes,
Where my body becomes the brush and weeds;
My hands are trembling uncontrollably now,
As I wait for her evil presence to fade away
Into oblivion, like smoke from burnt paper

The witch appears before my weary gaze
In all her twisted majesty and grace;
I've been discovered by the queen of rot,
Who glides upon a bed of crimson moss

I have felt this malevolent presence before,
A creature from a dark and dreadful past,
When a couple of daring experiments
Pried open the fabric of time and space:
She had been waiting for me down there,
Or for anyone who would enter her domain

I stare back at the darkness of her pupils,
Which shine with madness and malice untold
Then comes a flash of light as time resumes
From a split that seemed eternal before

The witch's fluid form flows from tree to tree,
While she spreads forth tendrils from her frame
Her rotting limbs grow in length and number,
They burst outward into countless tentacles,
Each tearing off her outermost hide,
Leaving her flesh exposed like a dead snake's,
To pull everything that they sense toward her core

I turn away in horror, unable to watch
I feel my heart racing, as my head begins spinning
My eyes grow wet, a lump raises to my throat
I know the witch has come to collect on what I owe

The leaves of the bushes are falling to the ground,
All around me there is death
As if someone had poured salt on the earth

Soon I feel the witch's pull on the strands of time,
Trapping every living being under her spell;
Each second becomes one frozen in amber,
So nobody can run away from that which waits
In a void filled only with nothingness and hate

My heart beats wildly,
My lungs begin gasping in the dried air,
Then my eyes meet her dark red ones;
I am not immune to that malevolent stare,
As she glares into my mind and steals my will

A brilliant beam shoots out of the witch's eyes,
Through the bushes I was hiding in
I use the same energy crackling through me
To fire back a bolt from my hands
That lances my enemy's heart,
But it doesn't even faze her:
She flows to the side and behind a tree,
Leaving behind a smoky trail

I run home as fast as my legs can carry me
And lock myself inside my bedroom
I want away from that terrible presence,
But I can't shake her from my brain:
No matter how hard I try, her malice lingers on;
Even after closing my eyes,
She's staring into them still

I take refuge within a bottle of liquid potion
To keep the witch's rot from spreading,
Until I can figure out a brew
That could remove her curse,
But I'll need some new herbs if I am to brew
Such a powerful magical concoction

I've never been a normal human,
But the witch's essence can corrupt anyone,
Turning them into tormentors of mankind,
So my only hope of escaping
This vile presence
Is through alchemy

The ingredients for the brew are hard to find;
It will take a lot of time and preparation
To extract enough components
From the rare flora found in the nearby forest,
But I already feel the fever setting in:
I'm going to burn out, soon the effects
Will consume my very soul, if not my mind

It is well known, by people all around,
That once the poison takes hold of your veins,
You can never leave its grip again
Your body becomes restless, your bones creak,
And you start to feel an unquenchable thirst,
A ravenous hunger that can't be sated,
Because all that your insides crave is the rot

The girl that you were is now no more
You're becoming a creature
That has no right to walk among mankind;
You will become one that will bring
Instead of life and joy, chaos and death

I need to return to being myself,
Back to a person who deserves
To breathe the fresh, clean air,
Who lives and loves for the common good

I have to hurry and gather
All the ingredients I need
For a potion potent and strong;
Without them the poison's effects can spread
Into every corner of humanity

But how do I get my hands on these
Strange plants, that grow nowhere near
My hometown, deep in the woodlands?
There must be something else
That can be used as a catalyst,
Something I might have seen
On one of my trips out into
The night-shrouded forest

I wake up on the forest floor
With no knowledge of how I have come here
Little by little I begin to remember:
I was searching for the rare ingredients
That would take me ages to find,
So I could slow down the poison in my blood,
But the witch's venomous touch has spread
Deep into my brain, poisoning me;
Every thought I've ever held
Now feels tainted with a tinge of evil,
And everything I was before seems like an act,
The performance a marionette would play

All that remains is the witch,
A shadow that floats over me;
She haunts my every waking thought
As my body aches and burns

As the corruption slowly overtakes my senses,
All the things that made me happy,
Or made me laugh out loud,
Suddenly don't mean anything to me;
All that remains of what made my life worth living
Are just a series of meaningless memories:
Like the first day I saw a flower bloom,
Or the day when my brother came over
And helped me plant my own tree in our garden
Before he disappeared into thin air,
Because he went out hunting
And never returned

In a small hut with smoke curling above,
On a moonlit winter night when snowflakes fell
From an icy sky, in my mother's lap,
There were two faces that were dear to me,
Two smiling, kind faces which would say "We know,"
If someone tried asking them to understand

I can still move, I can think clearly,
But my hands are no longer my own:
They belong to another entity
Who desires the world's destruction and pain,
And she wants me as her willing slave
To turn the whole human race
Into creatures of the night
That crave bloodshed and decay

I can hear the whispers in my head:
She says she is the queen,
The mistress of darkness,
Of chaos, despair and ruin;
All that lives has no choice
But to bow to her will
And do her biddings,
Or be consumed

The voices in my mind pray to this evil queen:
"Please destroy this town and all it contains,
Make them suffer until their end"
Then she laughs and tells me:
"Your suffering shall continue to increase,
For the town I wish you to destroy
Is the only thing keeping you alive"

I scream in rage and anguish:
"No more!"
I refuse to submit to the witch's wicked plot;
I'll fight back and rid myself of her curse at last,
Then I'll burn away all the poisons inside my heart

Everything starts going black around me,
A darkness seeping through from all directions;
The witch's voice speaks into my brain,
Making the sounds echo in an endless loop:

"I am a servant of Chaos,
The mistress of darkness,
The keeper of pain and decay
You must serve me or you'll die"

My cries echo in empty air; I'm trapped
Between a monster of the dark and me;
I am the creature that was once myself,
But it has become nothing more than a beast

As I lose myself into the shadows,
A darkness deeper and darker grows;
All that I can see now is her evil,
My eyes see all things as they really were:
The world appears dark, twisted,
Strange, surreal, and ugly
All of the living beings I come across
Are grotesque, unnatural, and vile

My body feels like fire,
My mind screams in terror
As I trudge my way back to town
So I can hide among my kin

If only I could be strong and resist,
Then my parents and brother,
Who cared so deeply about me,
Would still live on in my heart,
As precious as stone, forever

If my soul is fated to burn away,
At least I want to tell of my transformation,
To show the world what evil lurks within,
But the bright faces that used to welcome me,
That greeted me every time I walked into the city,
Look at me as if I am a stranger;
I can tell that they smell my rottenness,
That from now on I will only spread decay,
And they can't stand being near such filth;
They won't be fooled by my pretty smile any longer,
For my mind is corrupted beyond salvation

The girl who I was has been destroyed,
She has burned and rotted like an ancient log;
Her remains have turned the entire forest black,
And all that is left of me is my rotten core

I feel like an imposter:
My essence has transformed and grown stronger,
And so have her dark powers
Which are much too great to oppose,
So I have to turn myself away
From my past self

My old friends accept me into their homes,
But they make the mistake of touching my skin:
My corruption spreads through their pores
Until they change as well, into beings like myself

Their minds and bodies twist
Into beasts with insatiable appetites,
But my body doesn't burn as brightly as theirs:
I have the ability to control my new instincts,
So as long as I stay away from these fiends,
I won't lose control of the poison in me

I must swallow my sorrow,
Bear this suffering;
It is a bittersweet taste,
This poison of rot

Some of the townsfolk manage to flee,
But my newly rotten friends get the rest of them;
The villagers have all gone to the town square,
There are a lot more people there than I thought;
They stand silently in a circle, with their heads down,
And look up when they see that I arrived

The crowd make way, opening a path for me to enter
As my feet carry out the witch's cruel commands;
My infection now flows through their brains,
And they became a part of me,
And me of them

The world around me
Has turned dark and twisted;
All life now resembles
What it always looked like to the witch:
Rotting logs,
Toxic sludge and poisonous flowers,
Critters covered with scales,
Venomous fish,
Infected creatures that want to devour the world,
And all the life upon it

I am no more than the evil
Who took away the brother that I once knew;
The rot is consuming me,
My body shakes and my mind grows dim
As the last vestiges of reason fade away
In the depths of this corruption that has overcome
The girl whom my brother had always protected;
He said I should never have taken the path
That leads into this dark abyss,
Yet now there's nowhere else
For him and me to turn
But down the hole
Where all our loved ones
Vanished from our lives

My life becomes a void
Where only emptiness and hate remain:
An eternity without the sun's rays,
An infinite expanse without a star in sight;
No matter where I run, she is waiting there,
Sitting upon the throne that was once empty

I was once merely the girl from town
That concocted beneficial potions,
Dabbling in dark magic without considering
The havoc that could be wreaked;
Now I'm a rotten creature that no human
Would ever look upon and be pleased to know,
And all I've done to reach this point of insanity
Is to carry on with a desperate need to keep living,
When my existence meant nothing
Except as a catalyst for death and misery

The girl that you see before your eyes
May seem perfectly normal, to most of the world:
A sweet-natured maiden
Who is a healer and protector of the land,
An idealized portrait that can't possibly
Appear as twisted and deformed
As my own visage

Her beauty may be perfect,
But she still hides her true self:
An undead creature
With an unending craving to destroy the light of life,
To suck out all goodness from its victim's soul;
She's a harbinger of doom
For any sentient being
Who would come across her touch

All life will end as if it were the final curtain call
For the farce that we have all watched,
And I am just the stagehand standing at attention
In front of a curtain that conceals my mistress' true face;
A stagehand who will do whatever it takes
To see her role played
As she brings the performance
That She has spent centuries crafting:
The perfect ending to this tragic story
Of our souls being trapped
Within a body made to decay

All that I am now, the witch made manifest
In the form that best suits her purpose; a fiend
Who preys upon the weakest-hearted souls,
That will not even fight, as if they knew
The outcome was certain from the start
As a part of this grand design
That is so clearly laid out,
So beautifully designed
To lead to Her ultimate conclusion

We're in her domain now,
All of us wretches are her playthings,
And we're her instruments of torture
That will roam throughout this land

The witch only wants a single thing:
To spread corruption across all creation,
To use my blood, her seed,
To sow evil into every sentient creature
Until her enemies are wiped out, forever;
This world will have been completely purified,
From those whose very presence is distasteful to her

It's a spiral downward of pain and fear;
There can't be peace for someone carrying
Such evil within their heart,
There is no way back,
No escape,
Not in life, nor afterlife,
Nothing to save one who's lost her mind

I cannot escape this destiny of mine,
Our suffering is part of Her grand design;
If that witch is the queen of chaos, so be it
Let the darkness run through my veins

I am no longer afraid;
This is how I must walk forward,
And I won't turn away;
This isn't the life that my parents or brother chose,
Or the life that my friends expected from me,
But what I deserve after all these terrible years
That have taken such an awful toll
On my fragile soul

A Ghastly Scar (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

My broken brain has forced me to endure
Another one of many sleepless nights.
For hours I've rolled in bed drenched in sweat,
Assailed by dredged up memories
And painful thoughts brought back to life.

Only in such moments I recall this one girl
I briefly hung out with during middle school.
She was lanky, always wore her hair short
(Whenever it grew to chin length, it got wild),
Her eyes were too big for her face,
Her mouth puckered up awkwardly,
And her voice often sounded weird,
As if she swallowed air before speaking.

Maybe because she sensed we were similar,
She attempted to become friends with me,
But she struggled to hold conversations;
She rambled in circles like an excited toddler,
And the little I recall came out like gibberish.
Her speech reminded me of the sound
An old cassette tape makes when scratched.

She would act all cool around me,
Spouting smart talk that rang false.
I could tell she was miserable,
But she kept pretending otherwise
To fool others into thinking she was fine.

There was something desperate
About her smell,
And it annoyed me.

This awkward girl, like me,
Was never able to fit in,
So she hid her pain behind fake smiles.
She couldn't stand how she looked,
Or how she sounded or smelled,
Or how terrible her mind made her feel.

Maybe to explain herself,
She wrote me letters on notebook pages,
To which she added elaborate drawings
That she colored carefully
With her toxic-smelling ink pens.

I'm not sure if I ever read those letters
With the care that she maybe deserved.
During those times I struggled
To even hold on to my sanity,
As an undiagnosed autistic teen
Who had to ditch plenty of classes
Due to anxiety, paranoia, bullying,
And a depression built into my brain,
As well as issues with auditory processing.
I felt like a wild beast trapped in a cage.

I was the classic autistic case
Of a kid who does great in school
(Mainly because I spent my spare time
Either reading books or writing stories)
Until his peers begin developing socially.
The autistic kid's grades quickly collapse;
His energies are squandered on processing
The rabble of rowdy, savage barbarians
With who he's forced to share his space.

My shy, silent, anxious self
Used to sit alone in a corner
By a window, to scribble away
On notebooks that I hid from view.
'Autistic Ghost' would have been
My perfect superhero name.

I've retained three memories of that girl,
But I'm forced to doubt the accuracy
Of any of the echoes I've stored.
I once read that our brains rewrite
Details of every memory
Whenever we access them,
So the best way to keep them pure
Is to never remember them at all.

In the first memory, we are sitting on a bench
And I listen as the girl rambles awkwardly.

In the second memory, I'm loitering
Near the entrance of our school,
Likely after I ditched some useless class,
When that girl comes out bleeding
From a gash in her forehead
Which had bathed her face in blood.
Two female, pale-faced classmates
Were dragging her by the armpits.

The following day I learned
That during Arts and Crafts class,
A popular, delinquent stoner
Had been twirling around
The handle of a paper guillotine,
Which ended up flying off
Until the blade of the steel cutter
Pierced the girl's forehead vertically
From the hairline to the brow ridge.

In one of the years I wasted at that school,
A different girl from an adjoined classroom
Had been taking a shower after gym class
When the shower floor collapsed,
Impaling the soles of her feet
With ceramic shards.
I was also loitering near the entrance
When they dragged this poor girl out
While her feet left a trail of blood,
So who knows how many times
Such unlikely disasters happened there.

We attended a working-class middle school
That would produce the next generation
Of retail clerks, civil servants, druggies and suicides.
A year after I graduated, a riot broke out
Because some guys' pot was confiscated.
Desks were hurled out of windows,
The principal was beaten up,
And plenty of students got arrested.
I imagined the police shooting round after round
At panicked teens in the playground.

The stoner who disfigured that girl
Was the voguish, bad boy kind
That many teens were swooning over,
But I remember that he stunk of pot,
That he got arrested during a skiing trip
Because he tried to sell hashish to the locals,
And that as an adult, he ripped my ticket
Whenever I ventured out to watch a movie.
This guy always hung his head low,
But I considered him lucky;
I had never been able to keep a job.

In my third and last memory of the girl,
I'm glancing at her from a distance.
Her forehead was bisected
By a wide, purplish scar,
Like the one left by a major operation
Where they had to lacerate the flesh
To implant metal in a broken bone.

(In an attempt to hide the scar,
I imagine her tracing it with a black pen,
Which produces the unhealthiest smile,
Before she turns to me and says,
"See, you're not alone.")

I doubt I ever saw that girl again,
And I have forgotten her words.
I had suffered so much during those years
That I gave up every memento of them:
Stories, drawings, photos, letters.
Whatever this girl had shared with me
Ended up ripped in pieces
And thrown away into a trash bin.

Soon enough I forgot her name,
But whenever my brain dredges her up,
Usually during my many sleepless nights,
I picture her awkwardness and her scars,
Her desperate attempts to connect with others.
When her face appears in my mind, the pain
Reminds me of how my own life ended
The same way hers did.

I wish I could figure out how to google her,
To at least confirm what I always assumed,
That I would come across her obituary,
Which would have been the last time
That any stranger wrote her name.
One day someone I have never met
Will do the same for me.

(Her letters have surfaced again,
Generated by my broken mind.
I recognize that anxious handwriting,
Which haunts me like a ghost.

Her last letter went like this:
You can forget about me already.
I have long ceased to exist.
You are keeping me from what I wanted,
To disappear as if I had never existed.

But like so many others,
I'm forced to remember her
For the rest of my life.)

In hindsight, I wish I could have sat
Side by side with this girl on benches
Even just to share some silence.
I think that our pains were similar,
That we would have understood each other
If we hadn't felt the need to hide.

Now that I've gotten this old,
I've come to understand myself.
I know that if I could go back
And spend time in her presence,
I would yearn to regain my solitude,
Because no amount of goodwill
Has ever been able to change
What this monster demands of me.
I regret having missed many issues,
And about others, that I couldn't care.

Every experience nicks the surface
Of this clinically depressed brain,
And the memory decays into a scar.
After these few decades I've endured,
I'm left with a mesh of crisscrossing cuts,
So I can roll around in bed drenched in sweat
While my brain reopens some scars
To make them bleed again.