“Sealing it with a crimson pussy kiss,” said the Pearloiner, visibly moved.
Lila opened a drawer and pulled out a large smooth wooden dildo, which she handed to the Pearloiner. “Madame, put this handmade Dendro wherever you would like it to go,” she said.
The Pearloiner threw her strong tanned legs open and steered the dildo deep into her fur. She shook her head. “It’s good, but it’s not what I need,” she said. “I need live dick.”
Lila pondered, then smiled. “Zilka, Cheyenne, take Madame P. to the pussywall and strap her so that her pussy and fanny are exposed for all to see. The last batch of Deprivos are arriving. They’ll take care of her hungry twitchet.”
“Oh!” said the Pearloiner, feeling ripples of arousal.
Shandee Goes to the Festival
Shandee got up late and wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She walked through the Cockstorm Room blindfolded and held about seventy stiff and semi-stiff cocks. Then she washed her hands and sat for a while in a darkroom talking to a nice couple who ran a vegetarian restaurant. She went outside and had a sherry cobbler at the Sherry Cobbler and Farewell Festival. It was a fine end-of-summer day; the Garden of the Wholesome Delightful Fuckers was crowded with celebrants, and many brightly painted pedal-powered Masturboats were out on the White Lake. Luna and Chuck churned by, circling each other. There were screams and splashes from the pussysurfers.
As Shandee came closer to the dock and the tent, she heard Lila’s loudspeakered voice announcing the handjob cumshot contest. She paused to watch a little of the proceedings. The contestants stood on a raised dais dressed in crotchless tuxedos, their arms tied at the wrists behind their backs, while Lila, pacing with her cordless microphone and her wild hair, urged on the strokers, who knelt in position beside or behind the cocks they stroked. Women who wanted to be jizz-splashed stood in the shallows of the lake wearing waders with blue butterflies painted on them, holding their mouths open, making beckoning gestures. “Okay, we’re in the final ejaculatory launch window,” Lila was saying to the cheering audience. “Our contestants must shoot hot sauce within the next ninety seconds. Lift your tops and show them your titties, my friends, floof out your hair, stick out your tongues, and let’s get some nice moneyshots out of these bad beautiful cocks and these gorgeous sexy hardworking cockstrokers. Because, boy, are they at it! That’s it, my lovely strokers, jack the big dicks off, work them, bring that cream to market, don’t hold back, jack them harder, that’s it, Trix, honey, jack Pendle off, come on, Jessica, closer, closer, really fast now, that’s it, wank those hunky spunk pipes!” There were male groans of amplified pleasure. “And here goes Pendle first, oooh, lovingly stroked by the delightful Trix—well climaxed, you two, and let’s hear it for the Heftyshot bathing suit that’s down around Pendle’s ankles!” Applause, followed by another moan and more airborne come-drops flying through the air. “And now our Kathy’s got Ned launching—there it goes! And Hax, oh, my goodness, three big squirting jizz bombs from Hax, our tattoo master, smoothly cockstroked by Jessica—thank you, Hax and Jessica, with your beautiful smiles! And now comes Wade and Crackers, what a team—look at her fist fly on that eye-popping pink dick—ah, out it tosses!” More applause and cheering, and several women who’d been splashed jumped up and down flashing peace signs. Then there was a trumpeting noise. “And, oh dear, there goes Friggley, our pornmonster. Yeek, I don’t even know what that was, pumped off by Rhumpa, the Pearloiner, Donna, and Polly, all together. Very good effort, women—not at all disgusting. Let’s hear it for these resourceful jerkoff artists!” Lila turned and held a hand out. “And now—ah!—a tremendous sideways splash of semen from handsome Ruzty’s banana dick. Has he, yes, he’s taken the lead with a long arching slider. Ruzty’s ahead now. But now, last but never least, here’s Marcela, our dazzling heavy-dicked ladyboy, stroked by Dune. She’s new to having a penis, and it’s a biggie, and she has obviously taken to it in a major way. But she’s almost out of time. Will she get there? Will she shoot? She’s working her hips, she’s almost—now”—suddenly an enormous “Graaaawh!” was ripped from Marcela’s throat—“blowing a—whoa, shit!—a glorious spunkbomb of Elmer’s goo from that prodigious transplasmic dick of hers! My gravy! Stroked by Dune, like the master cockjerking bad boy you are, Dune. Mwah, blow you both a kiss. An absolutely amazing cumshot by Marcela and Dune!” Zilka gave Lila a piece of paper with some numbers on it. “And the official results are in: I declare Marcela and Dune the winners of the Sherry Cobbler Handjob and Massive Cumshot Contest. But all you jizzblasters deserve a prize.” More cheering, whistles.
Shandee applauded briefly and turned back toward her hotel. Sad about Ruzty, she thought. Maybe if she’d been stroking him he would have won. She got in bed and turned on a house-fix-up show and watched a man repair a screen door. She got Dave’s arm out and fed him and changed his liquid wastes, and they lay together and looked at the ceiling fan. Dave’s arm tweaked her nipple solicitously. She reached a moment of decision. “Come on, honey, let’s go,” she said.
Dave Gets His Old Cock Back
Shandee went to Dave’s room, number 434, and knocked. There was no answer. “Probably out carousing,” she said to Dave’s arm. “Would you feel comfortable writing him a note?” Dave’s hand took her pen and wrote this:
Hey Dave, I’m not feeling too good. Shandee has been taking care of me and showing me some of her kind and loving ways, but I miss being attached to you and doing all the fun things we could do together. I want back on. Shandee will be in her room, 676, tonight after seven. Do not miss this opportunity. Signed, Your Arm.
Shandee folded the note and held Dave’s arm as he slipped it under the door. They went back and took a nap together. At 7:15 there was a knock on the door.
Shandee straightened her skirt and checked her lipstick before she answered.
“Hi, I’m Dave,” said Dave.
“Oh, hi, Dave,” said Shandee, as nonchalantly as she could. “I’ve got your arm for you. I found it in a quarry.” She kissed Dave’s arm softly on the knuckles and handed him over, and as she did she took a slow second to look Dave up and down. He was wearing a soft nubbly greeny-gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and he needed a haircut. She saw his stump, which ended smoothly and tastefully just below his elbow, and she felt tender stirrings in her nethers.
Dave greeted his arm. “Hey there, dude,” he said. “I’m sorry I left you in the lurch.” He looked up at Shandee. “Thanks for taking care of him.”
“I’m going to miss him a lot,” said Shandee. “He’s been nice to me—very caring, very responsible. Very sensual in the bedroom, may I add. A little jealous, which isn’t a bad thing.”
“No, I guess not,” said Dave.
Shandee waved at the couch. “You want to sit down? I feel I know a lot about you. You look the way I thought you’d look, except you’re taller.”
“Well, you are quite stunningly, incredibly—damn!” Dave blushed at his enthusiasm.
“I would have gotten in touch before now,” said Shandee, “but Lila said you were not ready to be reunited because then you’d have to say good-bye to your huge dick. I thought I’d see you onstage today at the festival.”
Dave shrugged. “I kind of decided that being jacked off in front of hundreds of people wasn’t my style.”
“I understand,” said Shandee.
They were quiet for a moment.
“I hope you’ve had some fun times here,” said Dave.
“Oh, definitely. You?”
“I snuck off the reservation, did some crazy stuff. Spent more time in the old Porndecahedron than I care to admit.” He breathed. “And now here we are.”
“Here we are.” Shandee smiled at him, loving his rueful in-telligent eyes. Her vagina—or maybe it was her heart?—felt as if it weighed about eight pounds.
Dave’s arm snapped its fingers impatiently.
“So,” said Dave, “how do we do this?”
“Lila told me how,” sai
d Shandee. “I’ve been sleeping every night with the cloth of Ka-Chiang tucked in my pussyhole, so my juices have special healing powers.”
“Oh, nice.”
“Now all you have to do is, ah”—she lay back on her bed and pulled up her little denim skirt—“press your stump right here on my cunny.” She pulled her panties to one side and pointed.
“I can do that,” said Dave. “But could we maybe kiss a little bit first?”
Shandee nodded, and Dave knelt by the bed. She felt the full-on murflement of his enveloping kiss. Their tongues made friends; they’d known each other forever, it seemed. Shandee let her hand fall as if casually till it found the cocky thickness under his pants. She smoothed it over, feeling it swell, and he made a happy sound. Then he pushed his sleeve up higher and aimed his stump so it touched her gently between her legs—too gently.
“You can go ahead and grind it in,” she said.
He ground it in. “Like that?”
“No, harder. You have to get it all wet. In other words, fuck me with your stump.”
He pushed harder. “How about that?”
“Oh, god, aaah, whoa, fuck, that’s far enough. Now tighten your biceps muscle so I can feel it jerk. Aaah! Good.” She sat up and straightened her hair. “That should do it, yes, you’re all moistened up now.”
“Feels strange, a little like burning,” said Dave.
“Now, quickly,” said Shandee. Dave held out his glistening stump, and Shandee peeled off the cap on Dave’s arm. She pushed the two ends together, and they joined, making a juicy sloomping sound. Dave was whole again.
He fell on the bed, clutching his elbow. “Eee, eee, eee!” he said. “Pins and needles, and thorns and burrs and shrapnel—ow! I can feel the bone knitting back together.” Then, after the pain passed, he smiled, flexing his hand. “My arm is sending me up some vivid memories of touching your face,” he said. “May I touch your face?”
“Mmm,” said Shandee. She moved toward him and opened her mouth to be kissed again. But just at that moment there was a knock on the door. Zilka strode in, followed by Jason the bowl man, who held an enormous wooden bowl of his own fashioning, and Glenn the Australian wilderness photographer, and Betsy the beachgoer, and Lanasha the masseuse, and Daggett. Lanasha had a spray tank strapped to her back, and Daggett was carrying his bag of bras.
“We’re the field unit for crotchal transfers,” said Daggett.
“That was awfully fast, guys,” said Dave. “You must have been waiting in the hall.” He waved. “Hi, Glenn. I’ve enjoyed your dick very much.”
Glenn, dressed in a blue button-down shirt and stone-colored chinos, looked pleased. “I’ve enjoyed yours,” he said.
Daggett, his days as a Deprivo over, took charge. “Now everyone take off your clothes—let’s just right off get crazy batshit naked, okay? If you women want a special bra, feel free. And I hope you will admire my new balls.” They all admired Daggett’s balls as they shucked off their clothing, and then Lanasha sprayed Glenn’s genitals with the special plasmic transfer liquid from the tank on her back.
Daggett had more commands. “Shandee, if you would sit down in the bowl and make yourself comfortable, we can wash your pussy with the magic blue fluids. Jason, you could help by holding Shandee’s legs apart. Spread her wide so Lanasha can spray all of her. Good. And Betsy, could you please suck on Glenn’s cock till he’s good and stiff?”
“I’ll have to call my husband,” said Betsy, dialing. “Hi, honey, I’m here with some important people, and they need me to prepare a cock for transfer. Is that okay with you? Probably have to suck on it a little. Well, it’s sort of big, not quite as big as yours is. Great. Thanks, honey, I’ll call you later, bye.”
Betsy went to work. When Glenn’s cock was good and stiff, he lay on the floor on his back. Dave, still in his pants, sat spread-eagled on a chair directly over Glenn’s head. Shandee, her pussy ring-dinging like mad, got astride Glenn, and Betsy held Glenn’s cock at the right angle.
“That pussy spray makes me sick horny,” said Shandee. “When do I sit down on Glenn?”
“Right now, Shandee, fuck his pole. Betsy will help you guide it in. Soon you’ll feel the plasmic cockmeat puree begin to move right through your body.”
Shandee spiraled slowly down on Glenn’s cock. “Ohhh, that feels so nice,” she said.
“Thank you,” said Glenn.
“And it’s actually my cock down there, so thank you from me, as well,” said Dave.
“Now Lanasha,” said Daggett, “haul out Dave’s current cock and give it a spray of the blue fluid and a good sprinkle of Bohu’s beardwater, too.”
Everyone politely suppressed a gasp at the massive rude cockitude of Dave’s equipment as Lanasha unfolded it and shook it free from the confines of Dave’s pants.
Shandee was mesmerized. She and Lanasha together worked their fists up and down on its length, and as their hands rose and fell, pulling the cockskin, Dave’s mobile balls hopped up and down in their hairy handbag.
“Oh, my god, I’ve got so much dick going on here!” said Shandee.
“Keep fucking Glenn and meanwhile always suck and jack on Dave,” said Daggett. “Keep the flow going.”
Everyone went quiet, watching Shandee do her strenuous double service. She pulled up on and then slumped down on Glenn’s rigid stonker, and she gave simultaneous attention to Dave’s jaw-dropping mouthful of dickstick.
“Both genitals are going plasmic—they’re about to flow,” Daggett announced, wrapping a bra strap tightly around his balls. “Are you ready for the transfer? It’ll happen fast.”
Shandee nodded yes as her ass rose and fell, and then she involuntarily grunted as a huge molten mass of shifting sexmeat crissed and crossed through her body. She grabbed Dave’s hips to steady herself and felt the enormity of the testosterodick travel from her mouth down through her middlemost uterine self and into Glenn’s rapidly growing loinstem.
Dave’s cock was still hard, but it was shrinking in girth and length. Shandee popped her head off of it for an instant, working it with her hands instead. “More and more of the dick is going down through me, oh, my god!” she said. She chewed one side of her cheek. “It’s growing huge in my vagina! Oh, there’s so much hot, bad ball-hopping dick in me now! Oh, this feels so good, oh, Dave, this dick! This dick! This dick! How can you possibly give up this massive dick, it feels so fucking full in my cunt canal, aaaaaaaaaaaaah, shit, shit, oh, shit, Glenn, unbelievable!”
She caught her breath for a moment and looked around the room. Daggett, balls a-waggle, was slamming himself into Lanasha, and Jason was doing Zilka. Betsy had her legs hooched and the beardwater sprayer-wand up her ass and was jiggling it lasciviously.
Suddenly, Glenn’s orgasm slammed into gear, and he threw the first hot clot of a busted nutload of jizzling twizzlering sperm up inside her. Shandee let out a ragged joyous screamy cry of pure consummated cockfuckedfulness. Then she said to Dave, “Dave, I’m ready to tug you off onto my lips. Come on these lips, these Terranova lips that will always be true to you.” She saw his eyes meet hers and felt both his hands—the one she knew and the one she didn’t—hold her head. She said, “I’m going to jack off your beautiful real Dave cock onto my face now—oh, my god, it’s never been this good.” And suddenly Dave bucked in her hands, and she felt a Tuileries Garden of manly Dave-jizm leap onto her forehead and then again on her cheek and her neck. She was dripping with one perfect man’s cockjuice, and she loved it so much that when Glenn touched her clit with his thumb she wonked down full force on his restored dickitude, and that was enough to start the Atlas-shrug shudderation of arrival that made her shiver her way through the seven, eight, nine, twelve seconds of worldwide interplanetary flux of orgasmic strobing happy unmatched tired coughing ebbing thrilled spent ecstasy.
Lila Says It’s Almost Time to Go
Lila stood on the dais, her arms raised. “Thank you all for coming,” she said. “I hope you’ll be back next year.”
A deep foaming whirlpool had formed in the middle of the White Lake. Some of the guests were beginning to paddle their boats toward it. It was the group exit portal, and it made a distant roaring sound.
“One last event, though,” Lila said. “Cardell, are you here? Will you please come up?”
Cardell leapt the three steps up to the stage.
“Is that an egg in your pocket, hon?”
“Yes, it is, as a matter of fact,” Cardell said. “A silver egg. From my friend Jackie.” He handed it to Lila, who set it down on a folded washcloth.
“Now let’s let it hatch,” said Lila. “The egg of love, ladies and gentlemen. Farewell.”
The Silver Egg Hatches
Gallanos woke up curled in what he later found out was a small egg made of silver. Around him was a woman. Their heads were sometimes at opposite ends of the egg, and sometimes they stared at each other, blinking their silver luminous eyes. They floated in a shadowy fluid. They drank it, they breathed it. Their bodies were dull silver.
Gallanos seemed to have forgotten how to talk. He re-membered that he’d had a former life—that there was a space for him somewhere that wasn’t a silver person sharing an egg, but he had no details. He couldn’t recollect what had happened.
The first time that she smiled was when they were both feeling especially cramped. Either the egg was getting smaller, or they were getting a little larger. They fell asleep, and when Gallanos woke his hand was cupping the silver chalice of her breast. He pulled it away, horrified that he’d been so forward, and bumped his elbow on the slippery curving wall of their enclosure.
And then she smiled and shrugged: Oh well, it can’t be helped.
Gallanos opened his mouth and tried to make a sound. Nothing came out. They slept, and they breathed the glutinous liquid that gave them sustenance, and they slept some more, and sometimes they smiled and nodded and shrugged, and then gradually they developed a sort of language of gestures. They tapped to say “I’m going to sleep now, good night.” And when they woke up they tapped and waved to say good morning.
House of Holes Page 21