by Kurt Knox
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Return to first Checkpoint and try not to get an incredibly racist tattoo this time.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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Thank you for purchasing Sextrap Dungeon. Go to Bussell Books for forthcoming news on the next chapter in the Sextrap Dungeon series — Sextrap Dungeon: Book 2: Pornocopia.
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End
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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That’s very honest of you. Do you know where honesty gets you? Eaten by a gigantic pube lice, that’s where. Boo hoo. Life is not a pony farm. GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You missed your shot with the lab honey. Still, life goes on. Years pass by. One day you find yourself an old man, withered and fragile, an afghan blanket spread across your lap as you sit looking out the window of the assisted living facility you call home. Suddenly a memory floods your senses. Who knows what triggers it — it could the shape of the clouds, or a passing scent, or a misfiring synapse — but something opens up a pocket of your mind and out it tumbles. Out she tumbles. The girl who stole your heart. The one that got away. All your conquests — the flings, the affairs, the rolls in the hay — all of them pale in the glow of the one true moment of happiness you felt in the presence of that girl. If only things had gone differently that day. If only you’d handled things some other way, made better decisions. You could have been up to your nuts in that ass. THE END.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You pull a pen from the front pocket of the honey’s lab coat, flip off the cap and drive it into your eye socket. You die instantly (the next day, in agony). GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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Word. You elbow prop on a tombstone and lay some fresh moves.
‘Gurl, you must be a ghost, ‘cause you just wooed me.’
The sexy specter don’t skip a beat, just throws down her ghost rags and guides you into her phantom zone. You bend her over the tombstone and bring yourself to new heights of freakstasy, screaming your name as you nut up in that. When you are finished, the ghost thanks you for a job well done then disappears back into her grave. It’s only then that you see who it belongs to. It’s the grave of your dear old departed grammy. You done went and broke your grammy off doggy-style! Your hairdo turns bone white and you die of shock. GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You hit the sidewalk and explode like a water balloon full of guts. Did I mention the window you were jumping out of was twenty stories high? My bad. GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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Keeping it real, yo! You refuse to back down, hugging the center of the road and pushing the pedal right to the metal. Unfortunately, your opponent has the same idea, and you hit him head on. The front end of your ride crumples, turning the entire section inside out and reducing you to a thin paste. Now you’re are the opposite of real. 2 Fast 2 Spurious. GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You throw the wheel just in time and steer around the other car and veer into a soft verge. Your opponent isn’t so lucky, skidding out of control and plowing into the central reservation. The Subaru bursts into flames, crisping its driver. Punk got served. Too bad his fine honey was served also. You step out of your sweet whip to survey the wreckage. As you’re stood there, flames reflected in the lenses of your badass Oakleys, there’s a second explosion as the Subaru’s nitrous tank ignites. A piece of shrapnel flies from the wreckage and hits you bang in the crotch. POW! You look down to see your dick flapping around on the ground like the waving hand of a ghost child who has not yet realized she died in the rubble of that tenement collapse. Your sex adventure is at a dead end. GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You stick out a thumb and a ride pulls up. ‘Hop in, buddy,’ says the kindly-faced man at the wheel, and you climb into the passenger seat. Unfortunately, the man turns out to be the notorious “screwdriver stabber” and your mutilated body is found among the shrubs of an interstate shoulder two days later, perforated by an eighteen-piece Black and Decker tool set. GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You stick out a thumb and a ride pulls up. ‘Hop in, buddy,’ says the kindly-faced man at the wheel, and you climb into the passenger seat. Unfortunately, the man turns out to be the notorious “screwdriver stabber” and your mutilated body is found among the shrubs of an interstate shoulder two days later, perforated by an eighteen-piece Black and Decker tool set. GAME OVER.
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St
art Over.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You take a kick to the left nut. OOF! There goes an Officer. You take a kick to the right nut. POW! There goes a Gentleman. Your journey is at an end, no-nuts. GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You pour yourself a decaf coffee, but unfortunately your limp, girlie-man muscles are so weak from not being exercised that you cannot support the weight of it. You drop the beverage into your lap and burn your penis to a molten little nub. There will be no more sex adventuring for you. GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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When it comes to making good decisions your record speaks for itself. Unfortunately what that record says is, ‘makes very bad decisions.’
You realize something’s up the second you neck the pill. It starts with a tingle in your lap and ends with a tickle down your pants leg and the sight of something rolling across the bathroom floor. Could it be? Oh dear God… your dick done fell off!
You turn the Viagra packet over in your shaking hand. According to the numbers stamped on the back, the pills expired during the Bush administration. Bush Senior! Always check the label, homes. GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You sidle up to the honey and break down her defences with a low-grade insult.
‘Nice figure,’ you tell her. ‘You must throw up a lot.’
She immediately bursts into tears.
‘I suffer from an eating disorder,’ she bawls, ‘and that was really hurtful.’
Whatevs. Honey shouldn’t have been sat there minding her own business if she didn’t want horrible things said to her unsolicited. You leave the princess to her drama and swag walk out of there. Unfortunately, you’re still wearing an unspent erection from your lack of sexing, which trips you up, and – God knows how – lances through your eye jelly and into your hypothalamus. Jesus Christ. Murdered by your own priapism. There’s probably a lesson in that. Now go right back to the start of the story for being such an utter cock napkin. GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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Pleased with your decision not to waste any more time reading violent ePornography, you head to the library to treat yourself to the complete works of E. M. Forster. Unfortunately, your snooty nose is held so high that you fail to spot an open manhole, and consequently you tumble into a sewer, breaking both of your ankles. Oh snap! You contract a lethal strain of hepatitis from your wounds, and within less than 24 hours you are dead from septic shock. GAME OVER.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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Whilst carrying you in her womb, your mother — a victim of radioactive fallout from the Chernobyl disaster — was bombarded with dangerous levels of mutagenic contamination. This affected your pre-natal development, scrambling your genetic blueprint and leading you to be born with a surplus of male genitalia. Some have called you an abomination. Others a miracle. No one calls you anything now though, not since you died of acute thyroid cancer: a long-term side effect of a catastrophic nuclear event and a dark chapter in human history. GAME OVER.
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Start Over.
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