Like Porno for Psychos

by Wrath James White

  “We cannot just sacrifice a goat for this. Chango will want a greater offering.” One wizened old priest said.

  Her father lowered his head and pointed at Shana’s belly.

  “He shall have the child. That’s what he wants.”

  “You can’t! You can’t do this!” her mother shrieked.

  “We’ve tried everything else. There’s nothing we can do!”

  The earth shook as lightning scorched the earth all around their home. Smoke and car alarms went off all down the block. The louder Shana screamed with the throes of labor the more frequent and the closer the lightning struck. The priests and priestess began to slaughter the goats and chickens, slitting their throats and spraying their blood around the room. They danced and chanted and prayed. Then they began to shriek as the child came screaming from its mother’s womb in a flood of blood of rage and the lightning smashed through the window knocking them to the floor and striking the bed.

  Shana couldn’t remember what happened after the room exploded with light and her head had filled with a sound like the earth itself cracking open. When she awoke, she was in the hospital and the baby was gone. No one ever told her what happened to it and she was forbidden to ask. The storms went away after that. However, her father’s anger was even worse then before.

  Just a few years later, mere days after Shana graduated from high school, her father kicked her out of the house. He refused to pay for her to go to college. He told her simply to “Pay her way the way the other whores did.” So she’d started stripping. Her “exotic looks” had made her a favorite and soon she was being offered money to do more than take off her clothes on stage. Soon she began to take it. Eddie had stolen all her pride and shame in that alley and her parents had made sure that she would never get it back. So what did it matter if she suffered another indignity or a hundred more? She was a slut now whether she took the money or not. So she’d begun to take their money, fucking without pleasure on sweaty motel mattresses and the cramped backseats of cars.

  “Let me cum in your face, whore!”

  “Take it up the ass, slut!”

  “Come on and toss my salad for another hundred.”

  Shana had suffered every debasement imaginable. She’d sucked off two bikers in back of the club while another fucked her in the ass with a cock lubed only with saliva and another fisted her swollen vagina. They’d cheered when she began to cry and took turns jacking off in her open mouth before tossing her a measly hundred dollars, a fourth of what they’d promised her. She’d let a fat dyke who looked like Rosie O’Donnell with a mohawk savage her with a dildo the length and girth of a man’s forearm while going down on the woman’s morbidly obese life-partner who was easily twice as large, smothering beneath a mountain of gelatinous adipose tissue for a mere two-hundred dollars. Still, no matter how many times she shamed herself, no matter how much degradation and humiliation she put herself through, nothing erased the shame of that first time when she’d been innocent. Nothing erased the look in her father’s eyes when she told him she’d been raped.

  Then one day Eddie came into her club.

  She recognized him right away, even though he’d grown a beard and looked now more like John the Baptist than Jesus Christ and more like Charlie Manson than either of them. She began to follow him, working up the courage to do something. Then, one day, he came to her and offered her money to drive with him into the park. She’d taken the money and her knife.

  The storm clouds followed as they drove. Shana recognized them instantly. She knew they contained far more than rain. She felt a strength surge like fire within her. Her body felt charged with electricity. The hairs stood up all over her skin. Eddie was feeling it too. His hairs were standing up as well and the electrical system in his vehicle was going haywire. He turned off the stereo when the volume abruptly jumped to ten and the grunge rock turned to a static shriek of deafening white noise.

  Shana’s nerves were jangling like live wires and a rage was building inside her, a wrath so powerful it felt like an alien presence within her. They left the car and walked into the park. James immediately began to paw at her, raising his hand to strike her when she resisted. Shana obeyed, allowing him to force her head down into his lap, taking his sweaty cock down her throat and ignoring the tart tangy taste of smegma and the syphilitic drip from the tip off his cock. She listened to him moan and shout obscenities at her as he forced his cock further and further into her throat until her nose was buried in the musty stench of his unwashed pubic-hair. She let her rage build as he gripped the back of her head and thrust even deeper as he came in a thick hot gout of semen that splashed the back of her throat and made her wretch. Then he pulled his still erect cock out of her mouth and squeezed the last drops of his seed onto her face where they dribbled down her cheeks like tears of pearl. The fury in her eyes went completely unnoticed.

  “Yeah, bitch. That was perfect. You suck that dick like you were born to it. But you know what I really want. I want to fuck you in that fat ass of yours. I love how you nigger bitches have those big round asses. Bend over bitch!”

  That was the word. The same word he had used when he raped her the first time years ago. It was the word women like her had heard from the lips of white slave masters since this sinful country was born. It was the word of violence, and hatred, and oppression, and rape. It was the last time she’d ever tolerate it. It would be the last words Eddie would ever speak.

  Shana’s thick wooly hair filled with sparks and her eyes roiled with blue-white fury like ball lightning as she seized Eddie’s nutsack with both hands and dug her nails into them. Searing heat blazed through his testicles churning his guts in agony as Shana twisted his balls in hands that coursed with electricity. His testes sizzled, boiling in her hands as Eddie’s screams reached a falsetto she would have never guessed him capable of. They popped like suppurating pimples, exploded in her fingers like eggs in a microwave, spraying whatever semen remained within them out onto the grass. His nutsack caught fire turning Eddie’s pubic hair into a burning bush as his genitals were charred to a cinder. He opened his mouth to scream before the lightning left her and threw him twenty feet back.

  Rippling waves of energy surrounded Shana as she approached Eddie with the ire of a God within her, filling the hollow spot where the child she’d carried for nine months had nestled. He cringed helplessly in the dirt, clutching his blackened genitals, as the rain began to fall and lightning pounded the earth. He could hear it getting closer and closer until it was right on top of him, striking him repeatedly, tossing him about like a leaf in a dust storm.

  The electricity fried his brain in his skull. By the time the police followed the source of the unearthly cries of anguish to their source, the skies had cleared and Shana had already begun to take her own anger out on the near vegetable laying in the mud at her feet. She was still cutting on him when they leapt from their cars with weapons drawn. Then she’d begun cutting herself.

  It had been her Great grandmother’s beauty that had first drawn a God from the heavens to mate with her and it was Shana’s beauty that had drawn Eddie. So now she meant to destroy that beauty and forever escape both of their attentions.

  Eddie could no longer control his own motorfunctions. The necessary synapses in his nervous system had been fried. He could not remember who he was or why he was in pain. Why the woman with the flaming eyes was hurting him, cutting and ripping at him. Why she was cutting herself. He could see the pain in her eyes and some dim part of his brain told him that he was responsible, that he deserved this, and that it was going to get worse. That it had to get worse before he could be forgiven. If he could ever be forgiven.

  He knew that he’d already been badly wounded, perhaps even fatally. He looked at his ruined and ransacked torso and wondered how he was even conscious with so much damage done to him. So much pain.

  “Forgive me,” he begged. But she couldn’t hear him. Because his lips and tongue were no longer responding to his commands
. They would not move to make the sounds. He tried again and only managed to make bubbles of saliva. He looked up into her eyes. The flame was gone and she was back to being a hurt and angry little girl. A very angry little girl. But something in those dark jewels told him that she would forgive him if he could only form the words. He bubbled up more saliva and watched as she raised the knife above her. Her eyes began to roil and flame again. A long wail escaped Eddie’s mouth and tears rolled down his face.

  He remembered what he had done now. Though he couldn’t remember this woman specifically, he remembered the faces of the little girls he had attacked, any one of which could have been her or her child. He could hear the echo of their screams fill the dark voids in his memory and he knew then that he would not be forgiven by this woman. He knew that he should not be forgiven.

  Eddie looked up at the clouds assembling overhead, dark angry clouds, and saw faces forming within them with furious eyes just like the woman with the knife. He saw the face of a sorrowful child who looked just like him. They scowled down at him shrieking with rage in voices of thunder. Their faces widened and split apart as their roars shook the earth and lightning spilled from their eyes, screaming for his blood. He cowered in the mud wondering which would kill him first; the angry gods roiling in the dark nimbus above him or the mad woman aiming the knife down at his face.

  “This is your last warning! Put the knife down and back away from that man! Put it down now!”

  The police yelled at her waving their guns and Shana smiled. She could see the storm clouds moving back in, she could feel the energy rising within her, and she took back all she’d said about God never helping her. God, her God, had heard her and he was coming.

  Lightning rained down its fiery wrath upon the earth and Shana smiled and laughed as the rain washed over her, healing her wounds. She thrust the knife into Eddie’s eyesocket and heard him gurgle his last living words before hell took his soul. Bolts of electricity smashed the cop cars like toys and reduced the officers to panicked screams. Shana watched as all the pain and horror of her life erupted forth in bolts of electric fire, burning her tormentors to shrieking cinders and for the first time, since her mother held her down while her Nana mutilated her, she knew real joy.

  Jeff had no one to blame but himself. He hugged her and the chill from her flesh raised goose bumps all over his arms. She stared at him as if he was the biggest fool on earth. A character assessment he couldn’t contest. Her lips were set in a hard line that discouraged kisses. Jeff knew that, under different circumstances, she would have spit in his face or at least stormed out of the house in annoyance and disgust.

  Her cold eyes passed judgment on his manhood and once again Jeff felt humiliated. A Failure. Impotent. Not a real man. All the words that had caused him to strangle her in the first place. When his erection had dwindled and her scornful laughter and harsh words scalded his ego like an acid bath, killing her had made him feel powerful again. Potent and virile. As her pulse rate dwindled beneath the crushing pressure of his murderous hands, his erection had come surging back. Its solid length giving him confidence that this time he would be able to consummate their love.

  “It’s these damned condoms!” he shrieked. “I can’t feel a fucking thing through these goddamn sensory deprivation jackets! They cut off my fucking circulation!” He ripped his revitalized erection free of its latex sheath, tossing the shredded pieces of rubber to the floor.

  At his wife’s insistence, Jeff had waited until his marriage day to even see her naked. She wasn’t exactly a virgin. She’d had a string of lesbian lovers before she’d turned hetero who’d penetrated her with dildos the size of baseball bats, but he was the first real man she’d ever been with or at least, that’s what she’d told him. He often wondered. Sometimes he felt she resented him for making her fall in love with him and then falling short of her idealized fantasies of manhood. After all, his six inches was no comparison to the eleven-inch vibrating monstrosity she still kept in a suitcase in her closet.

  On their honeymoon, she had enthusiastically wrestled his turgid flesh into a cocoon of spermicidal latex then injected herself with foam and lay back with her legs spread wide to receive him. Jeff’s erection had fainted dead away as if shocked by a taser-gun. Every night since had been some replay of the same. He’d learned to fall asleep to the whirr of the vibrator echoing from deep within her.

  “If you’d have only let me do it without this thing on this wouldn’t have happened!”

  Jeff looked down at his wife who lay there turning blue, her tongue lolling out of her mouth like a fat slug, turning purple, her eyes rolled up in her head, urine and spermicidal jelly leaking from her slack vagina. It was still stretched out from its many nights with the King Kong vibrator that substituted for him when he was unable to perform. He tore open her legs aggressively, nearly disjointing her hips in his enthusiasm. Taking his hardening sex in hand, he entered her lifeless husk and made love to her for the first time. All the pressure and performance anxiety gone. No expectations to live up to. No past lovers to compete with. No frustrated looks of disappointment to contend with. Two strokes in he knew she’d been right about him all along.

  She was wetter than he ever could have imagined and her vagina was a miracle of muscular development. It wasn’t just the body fluids evacuating her corpse or the involuntary contraction of her powerful kegel muscles as she spasmed in her death throes. It felt as if there were tongues inside of her, slurping on the tip of his tumescent cock. The sensation was overwhelming. Every muscle in his body locked and began to convulse violently as the orgasm erupted from him in a white molten torrent of shame. Premature ejaculation. Whatever it was wriggling and writhing within her (and Jeff was sure he didn’t want to speculate) it had quickly and efficiently milked him of his seed. Even dead she was too much woman for him.

  “My god! What the hell was that?”

  The death rictus on her face looked to him now like a mocking smile. Jeff withdrew his spent and shriveled organ from her lukewarm flesh and turned his head away from her eyes, which he could feel burning into his skull. Cold. Accusatory.

  “Fuck you! I’m a man! I’m a man, you heartless bitch! You just make me so nervous staring at me like that!”

  But she’s dead. Why should it matter how she looks at me? Jeff wondered.

  He reached out and closed her eyes. Now, she didn’t look so intimidating. She looked kind of pleasant except for that pained grin. Jeff tried to pull her lips down over her teeth, but wasn’t sure just how to do that. He tugged on them until he was afraid he would rip them off. Then he decided to pry her mouth open instead. He reached under the bed for his shoehorn and wedged it in between her teeth. With just the slightest bit of effort he was able to open her mouth. It was a mistake. She wasn’t snickering and grinning anymore. Now she was laughing boisterously.

  “Shut the fuck up! Shut up!” He yelled.

  He drew his hand back and slapped her across the face again and again, but her laughter continued.

  “I’ll shut your ass the fuck up.”

  He took himself in hand and leaned over her, jamming his limp penis into her mouth. She hadn’t given him a blowjob since the day he said, “I do”. But now she was in no position to refuse.

  “Who’s laughing now, bitch? Huh? Who’s laughing now?”

  The feel of her tepid saliva on the head of his manhood put the steel back in his erection. He began slowly fucking her face, ramming his stiffening cock down her throat. The idea of cumming in her mouth caused his organ to swell larger than it had in years. He could feel it throbbing deep in her esophagus as he raped her throat, thrusting harder and faster. He could feel the orgasm building, that familiar tingling sensation roiling at the base of his cock, but he withdrew, breathing deeply to get himself back under control. There was something else he wanted to try even more.

  Jeff rolled his wife over onto her belly and slathered his thumb in saliva then inserted it into his wife’s anus. She would ha
ve never even considered allowing him this type of pleasure when she was alive. She would have filed for divorce at the mere suggestion of anal sex, but since he was probably headed for death row anyway, he might as well have as much fun with her as he could before she began to rot and her stench brought nosy neighbors and cops.

  He pushed his penis deep into the slippery wetness of her sphincter, lubricated with the blood and excrement leaking sluggishly from her relaxed bowels, and was rewarded with that same sensation of tongues slithering over his cock. Then he began to scream as something clamped down hard on his penis and began to rip and tear at it. Quickly he withdrew his cock with a wet sticky “Schlorp!” as he fell out of his wife’s corpse and onto the floor, screeching like a cat on fire.

  Jeff looked down in horror at his vandalized manhood and found it a bloody ruin. He stared closer as he whimpered in pain and saw little teeth marks on his penis where something had bitten chunks out of the rapidly diminishing organ. Jeff looked across the floor and began to scream again when he saw what was wriggling free of his dead wife’s asshole.

  Terror creeped slowly up his spine, raising the hairs on the back of his neck as he watched a nest of blind hairless things come boiling up out of her anus, eating away at her buttocks as they struggled to free themselves. Pale, slimy, larval creatures, with piranha-like teeth and human faces, a nauseating hybrid of maggot and fetus, worming their way out of her intestinal track by way of her dilated rectum, gnashing their teeth and greedily chomping on glistening red strips of intestinal and hemorrhoidal tissue. Their pinched and wrinkled faces looked like some combination of Jeff and his wife.

  Is this what our children would have looked like? He wondered in disgust. No wonder she never let me fuck her without a condom.

  He’d long known that his wife Lucretia wasn’t exactly of this earth. He’d met her in a graveyard at midnight on Christmas Eve. He’d gone there to steal a fresh corpse for his yearly Winter Solstice Necromancing ritual. The recently interred body of a local Catholic Bishop who’d been castrated and shot dead by the father of an alter boy he’d been molesting. There was strong magic in the corpses of disgraced religious leaders. But when he’d pried open the crypt he’d found Lucretia there with half the bishop’s heart and brains already digesting in her stomach and the remains still being stuffed into her slavering mouth. It had been love at first sight.