Yo A$$ Is GRA$$: Tales From a Rednek Gangsta

by Jimmy M. F. Pudge

  What the hell was going on?

  “Help!” I shouted. “Somebody help!”

  I kicked out and banged the tailgate. “Help me, please!”

  Someone hit those breaks awfully damned hard because I slid back, my head slamming up against the back of the truck. I heard a door open, some old country song was playing.

  A face appeared above mine, staring cautiously down. “Shet the fuck up for I cut you.”

  He looked like how I imagined a talking dick would look.

  “What is this?” I asked, my head throbbing.

  The man licked his lips, grinned a toothless grin. “You ever heard of Bob’s Country Store?”

  “What?”

  “You ever heard of Bob’s Country Store?”

  “Let me go,” I said. “I won’t say nothing.”

  “Bob’s Country Store, young man. We sell the best sausage this side of Georgia.”

  My chin was trembling. I was scared. He looked crazy.

  “I’m gonna turn your ass to sausage, boy!” he laughed and his face vanished from view.

  “Hey man, let me out!” I said. “I got to pee pee!”

  “Piss your pants,” he said, slamming the door shut.

  We must have driven ten miles or more before the truck quit rattling and that raggedy ass engine died. I was freezing in my piss pants. Bob, or at least that’s what I’m going to call him, opened the tailgate, grabbed me by the ankles, and in one swift motion threw my ass to the ground. I saw the leg shackles and figured a chain was running up the back, connected to the handcuffs binding my hands. It felt oddly familiar, like it did when I was in lockup and they were cuffing my legs and feet for transportation, preparing for my successful transfer to a new prison.

  Bob picked me up off the ground. I was surprised that such a gangly looking dick could be so strong.

  “Foller me,” he said, walking ahead, toward the house.

  I thought about running, but the house was in the wide open and the trees were too far away to run. Couldn’t make it to cover in time.

  Bob walked like he had a dick broke off in his ass.

  “Hurry up,” he shouted, holding the screen door open for me. Sweat was oozing down his face, and his Adam’s apple kept bobbing up and down in his throat.

  I stepped inside this dimly lit world and the smell of must liked to have knocked me out. There was something beyond that stench as well, something much darker. Something evil.

  Bob pushed me down the dark hallway to a closed door.

  “Now, you listen right there,” Bob said. “I love my wife with all my heart. You can stick it in her and suck on them beautiful nipples, but don’t, not under any circumstances, kiss my baby doll. You understand me?”

  “What?” It was all I could get out.

  “You stupid?”

  “No,” I said quickly.

  “Alright then.” He opened the door and I let out a gasp.

  On a king size bed laid the biggest woman I ever saw. One side of her hanged off the left side of the bed, the other side hanged off the right. Her head was propped against the backboard.

  “Sweet Princess,” Bob said, his voice going all husky, “I brought you a little something-something.”

  Her small eyes scanned me like they were laser beams and her chins quivered as her head tilted. I could tell she was checking out my package. She had a thoughtful expression on her face, her tongue hanging out the corner of her mouth.

  “He looks delicious,” she said.

  “Take off your shirt and britches, right now,” Bob whispered.

  Bob was breathing really heavy. I turned to see what he was doing and saw the pistol in his hand.

  I stripped out my shirt and pulled down my pants. Wasn’t wearing no underwear. I’d used them as toilet paper the night before.

  “I’m about to set you free,” Bob said, his sour breath on the back of my neck. “Don’t try nothing, or I’ll kill your ass dead right here.”

  He removed my leg irons and handcuffs, his breathing growing even raspier.

  “Get on that bed right now,” Bob commanded.

  “I’d rather get shot.”

  Bob pointed the gun at me.

  I got on the bed.

  “Stick it in her, boy,” Bob said. “Stick it in her and make her scream.”

  I looked down at Bob’s sweet princess, her face a jell-o of excitement, her smile rippling across the waves of fat that lumped up over her tortured skull.

  “Put it in, baby,” she whispered, her suasage fingers reaching out for me, tracing sweet nothings along my pale, hairy beer belly.

  I shivered at her greasy touch and turned again to Bob, praying that this wasn’t really what he wanted.

  Bob was wearing a black leather mask. His tongue darted in and out from the mouth hole. He had a hand in his pants, stroking it.

  “Fuck her,” he said. “Fuck her real good, boy.”

  “Come get it,” she said, spreading those enormous legs. The room suddenly smelled like chicken frying in vegetable oil. I closed my eyes tight, asked the Lord for forgiveness, then pushed myself up to her, inside her. It was like fucking a can of Crisco.

  “You’re not inside me,” she said.

  I opened my eyes and looked down. I couldn’t see anything below the belly. I had to back up and study my path of entry. I crawled forward and lifted the stomach, then plunged my poor peter into her piss factory.

  She moaned. That’s how I knew I was at the right place.

  It was warmer than KY Jelly inside that humid pussy, and every time I pumped, I could feel shit splash up on me. I cringed as she moaned. I cringed as Bob moaned. But then it started feeling good, and I got into the spirit of things.

  “I’m going to fuck you real good,” I said.

  Her sausage fingers wrapped around my left hand and brought it to her mouth. She started licking my index finger like it was a dick, then sucking.

  Sliding it in and out of her nasty ass mouth.

  Rolling her tongue over the digits.

  “That’s it, baby,” I said.

  Then she chomped down on my finger. I screamed and she opened her mouth.

  My blood spurted on her face, shrouding that greasy flesh in red mist.

  I was still screaming as I studied the missing tip of my finger.

  “You taste real nice,” she said, smacking on my fingertip. “He’s gonna make fine eating, Bob.”

  “Yeah,” Bob grunted, moaning from somewhere behind me.

  My dick shriveled and slipped out that behemoth pussy.

  She grabbed my hand and started to pull it toward her mouth. She was going to eat my ass alive while Bob jacked off! I swung it away from her, and she squealed with rage.

  “Give your hand and fuck her, boy!” Bob yelled.

  “Fuck you,” I said, getting off the bed.

  Bob lifted the pistol, pointed the barrel at my face and pulled the hammer back. There was a deadly click and the room was silent. Though horrible pain raced through my body, it did not cloud my judgment. I had two choices: die a quick death or be eaten alive as I fucked a killer whale.

  Fuck Bob.

  Fuck his sweet princess.

  I climbed back on the bed and did exactly what Bob had warned me not to. I kissed that fat bitch dead on her stanky lips.

  Her heavy hands grabbed my face and held me locked in that kiss.

  I could hear Bob scream something awful in the background, the anguish apparent in his raspy ass voice. “You kissed my wife! You kissed my goddamn wife!”

  I tried to lift her hands off my head, but she was clamping down, so I punched her in the side of the face. Her head rocketed to the side and her huge arms fell off the bed.

  “I’m gonna kill yer ass with my bare hands!” Bob screamed.

  I turned my head and saw him, still wearing his black leather mask, lunge from the end of the room all the way onto the bed.

  As soon as his weight hit the matress, I heard what must have been th
e wooden support beams splinter. The foot of the bed collapsed, and I rolled several times, my back smacking the bedroom wall.

  “Help!” came the sweet princess’ distraught voice.

  I looked toward the bed and heard the muffled screams. Bob’s arms were uselessly slapping at his wife’s massive thighs. His legs were kicking like they were on fire. I couldn’t see anything but the arms and the legs because the rest of Bob was underneath her.

  “Do something!” she said.

  “Alright,” I said, walking up to Bob. I kicked him in the ribs until he quit moving.

  I walked out of the room into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. There wasn’t a damn thing in the ice box but sausage. I closed the door and walked back into the bedroom, intent on asking that obese bitch if there was anything in the house other than sausage.

  I walked into the bedroom, and she looked up from her meal, a guilty look on her face.

  “Caught me,” she said with a burp. The she took another bite out of Bob’s arm.

  THE END

  I Wish That I Had Jeffrey’s Girl

  I know what you wanna say when you look at me, goddamnit! It isn’t that mysterious. It isn’t a thickly clothed shroud you’ve dropped over my eyes, you motherfucker. Damn it to hell. If I could kill you again, I would!

  They’re raising your body from the ground, Jeffrey. I wonder what they’ll think when they see your head’s missing. They’ll probably wonder where the hell it could be. You think they’ll figure out I dug your ass back up, then buried what I didn’t want?

  I sat the giant pickle jar back on the floor. Jeffrey’s head bobbed up and down in it. I thought that was HIGH-larious! People wonder how people can do bad things, despite the fact they do bad shit all the time. I know I do bad shit. I’ll admit to that. That makes me a better man than any of you sorry sonofabitches.

  I put my best dress suit on for my baby, studying my reflection in the mirror, getting that neck tie knot just the way I wanted it. It had been a long while since the last time I’d seen Laura.

  Hell, you could say I was willing to murder to glimpse that bitch again.

  “Ain’t that right Jeffrey?” I asked, kicking the pickle jar.

  I put on Stetson, real man’s cologne, and I grabbed one of those Stetson hats you see in the movies and plopped it on my head. I buttoned my dress coat and gave the mirror a wink.

  It was a cold night and I flicked my Zippo open and flamed a cigarette dangling from the corner of my mouth. I jumped in my Mustang, lowered the top, and zoomed down the highway, looking for excitement, action, my soul mate.

  Their home was dark when I arrived, killing the engine a couple of houses down. I walked up the front porch and noticed the swing slowly drifting back and forth in the cold December breeze. I wondered if she was stupid enough to hide her spare key in the same spot she used to when we were together.

  I found it under the same doormat we had once picked out together in an arts and crafts store. My eyes watered a little bit as memories of better days flashed. A kaleidoscope view of what once was, and what would be again.

  I opened the door and crept inside, a small bandit sticking to the shadows. I wondered if the bedroom was still in the same room it used to be in. There was a heater vent in the middle of the hallway floor, and I bypassed it, praying that Laura couldn’t hear the floorboards squeaking.

  I peered in the bedroom, and saw her golden hair spilled out on the bed. I pulled back the sheets, my eyes running over the silk nightgown, and lay down beside her. I could feel her hot breath on my face, and my hand ran along her thigh.

  Her eyes opened, and she smiled at me for about a second before she startled. She screamed, and I cupped her mouth with my palm.

  “Laura,” I said, “I’ve come back for you.”

  She struggled wildly in the bed, so I punched her in the stomach once, twice. The second blow knocked the wind out her, and I released my grip on her mouth.

  “Now you hush up for a second there, darling. I don’t mean you no harm, but Jeffrey’s dead now, so I’ve come back for you.”

  “L-leave,” she whispered. “P-please go,” she begged. “I d-don’t want you here.”

  “Baby,” I said, “you’re not thinking straight. I’ve come back for you and you’re just all worked up. Let’s go for a ride. The night air will settle your nerves.”

  I hopped up out the bed and cut the light switch on. Laura’s hair was wild and her eyes were wilder. Pure panic in those beautiful blues. Terror. I smiled and pulled out my pack of smokes.

  “You want a cigarette, baby?” I asked her.

  She shook her head, and a nightgown strap fell down her shoulder.

  “Why don’t you take that other strap down, baby. I wanna see you still got the same equipment you was working with. That shithead Jeffrey didn’t make you get a reduction or implants, did he?”

  She shook her head and pulled the fallen strap back up her shoulder. I grinned at her modesty. That bitch hadn’t been so modest when she’d told me it was over. That we were through. That Jeffrey could give her something I never could. I thought at the time she had been speaking in sexual terms, but she explained it better to me after I kept emailing her and calling her on the phone. She said it wasn’t like that. She wanted to be with Jeffrey because he was good to her. Because he cared. Because he had feelings, felt things like a normal person should.

  “W-what are you doing here?” she asked, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I . . . you can’t be near this house. Th-the restraining order.”

  “Fuck the restraining order,” I said. “You weren’t in your right mind when you filed that nasty thing. I know that. I know Jeffrey put all kinds of crazy things in your mind. Right now, even, I see his words about me have still poisoned your perception.”

  “N-no,” she said. “Don’t talk about my husband like that.”

  “Or what?” I said. I slapped her hard across her snow white face, and she let out a little moan of pain. “Ha, ha, ha, ha! I remember a time when that used to turn you on.”

  “It never did, you crazy bitch!” Laura screamed. “It never d-did. That’s why I left you, Rachel.”

  “You lie!” I barked back, my hand drawn back to sting the hell out of her head.

  “W-wait,” she begged, her hands shielding her face. “I’m sorry.”

  I relaxed a bit, taking a drag off my cigarette. “Sorry for what?”

  “For leaving you.”

  “That’s alright, baby. That sonofabitch Jeffrey made you do it with his smooth talking. He was the devil, you know that, right?”

  Laura nodded her head, and this pleased me.

  “What’s that smell?” she asked. I noticed for the first time that her face’d been wrinkled up. Of course I didn’t notice the smell no more. I’d grown accustomed to it. I knew the odor she was referring to. Once, when I was a kid, our house had some large rats in it. My dad set out some traps right before we left on vacation to Florida. When we came back, about two weeks later, there was this horrible scent in the house. A sickly sweet decay, rotting throughout all the rooms. It was coming from a dead rat. Wasn’t no telling how long he’d been stuck in that trap for. All that for some fucking peanut butter.

  “W-what’s that smell, Rachel?” she asked again.

  “I know you miss Jeffrey. I know you do. No young wife should be widowed at such a young age as you. What a horrible wreck he was in.”

  “Y-yes,” Laura said, her cheeks red, snot streaming out of her nose.

  “Really? If you think he died in a wreck, then why are you having his body brought up tomorrow?”

  “I-I, it isn’t me. The police want to look it over it again for . . .”

  “Do you think I murdered Jeffrey?” It was a deadly serious question.

  She must have sensed the power in that question, for she didn’t answer right away.

  “Of course not, Rachel. You couldn’t kill nobody.”

  “Listen, Laura, I wanted to mak
e you happy. I wanted us to start over again. Look, I even got something for us. Something to make you happier. The part of Jeffrey you love most doesn’t have to die.” And there it was. The source of the smell. My long, elegant fingers unzipped my dress pants. I brought out Jeffrey’s cock. I’d sewn it on to my panties, creating the ultimate strap on.

  “Recognize it, Laura? Does it turn you on?”

  She was speechless. Her mouth had formed a perfect “O” and she sat there, her face frozen in horror, unable to scream. Unable to breath.

  “Suck it,” I said. “Suck my dick.”

  This broke the trance, and she was screaming for help as loud as she could. I laughed at her.

  “Ha, ha, ha, ha! Why don’t you want to suck it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

  She refused to respond. I pulled out my pistol, aimed the barrel at her face, and asked again real nice-like: “What’s wrong?”

  I c-can’t,” she said. “P-please!”

  I lowered the .38 and ran a hand through her beautiful blond hair. Hope was blossoming inside me. Was it possible? Could she really be over Jeffrey?

  “Why not?” I asked in a husky voice.

  She tried to answer me, but she was so scared she just kept stuttering.

  “Is it because you love me? You don’t care about that bad Jeffrey anymore?”

  She was chocking up, heaving with heavy sobs. Laura nodded her head.

  I leaned down and pressed my forehead against hers. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Let’s just leave this town. Just me and you. What do you say?”

  “O-okay,” she managed.

  I helped her out of bed, and she smiled warmly at me. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. “I love you. You know that, right?”