“Son of a Bitch! Can't you see my mother is upset?”
“I see a pussy with legs. You give me five minutes with the old bitch and I let you both walk.”
Kill him. Don't accept! KILL HIM!
“Fine.”
What the hell is wrong with you?!! What kind of a man are you? You're just going to let this piece of shit flug your mother while she's in this state? You're pathetic!
Before Maude could be led away for her involuntary violation, Magnum grabbed her forearm, yanking her back from Drummond's meaty paws. He could feel the migraine to end all migraines coming on and it took everything in him not to pass out.
“On one condition.”
“God Damn! Either this is gonna happen or it ain't. I'll walk right out right now and”
“I just ask that you do it here, you know, and... you let me watch.”
“Watch? You sick little re-mo. Don't you get enough at home?”
Magnum stood, fiddling with his gloves, looking down at his feet in sheepish embarrassment. It quickly occurred to Arnold that Maude may not have scheduled a procreation session with her own son yet. A shit-eating grin spread across his fat face as he realized this would be a rare opportunity to not only fire one off in Maude's meat socket but he'd also be able to flug Magnum over as well. Flugging two for the price of one; that was hardly something he could pass up.
“Okay fine, watch and beat off all ya like but touch me and I tear your head off and shit down your neck hole! Understand?” Drummond asked, licking his lips.
“Understood!”
Initially Magnum had no intention of interfering but as he watched Arnold pull his wrinkled, headless little hog from its polyester recesses, he knew they'd never be able to trust him despite their deal. Things might work out for a few days, perhaps even a few weeks, but eventually he and his mother would find themselves at Arnold's mercy again and they'd have no choice but to give in. No, it had to end now and he knew that, he just had to wait for the right moment. Maude was far too deep in shock to object to what was going on at this point but even if she weren't, Magnum was sure his mother wouldn't have said a word. She hated Arnold Drummond just as much as anybody else but business was business; that was one of the many things Magnum learned from his mother; everybody had to do their part, whether they wanted to or not, in order to make the New New World a better place to live.
Drummond led Maude to the ABC's workstation by the shoulders and coldly bent her over as if moving a clothing store mannequin from one window to another. Pulling her skirt up over her ass and throwing it over her head, making her look like a simpleton, he began dragging his hard on up and down the slit of her vagina, gathering the remnants of Lamont's slick leftovers and dried blood on the head of his cock as he went. After what seemed like an eternity of teasing and stabbing, he found her sticky hole, dug in his heels and collided with Maude's ass in a mighty “KER-SLAP” that seemed to echo throughout the factory. Magnum could see her fists tighten, knuckles whiten and knees shake as her innards were repetitively skewered, Drummond even turned and shot him a malicious smile while letting a small, wet fart fly. The fact that it began dribbling down his leg and into his urine stained underwear didn't seem to bother him.
He's probably used to that, Magnum thought, filthy flugging swine.
Blinded by a mixture of rage and disgust, Magnum could think of nothing more pleasing than tearing the gyrating pig from his mother and ripping off his engorged member right in front of his eyes. This time though, instead of simply retreating into an elaborate fantasy as he always did when confronted with fear, he sprang to life and led the attack with his teeth, allowing them to sink deeply into the fat rolls of Drummond's neck. The look of pain and shock on his face said it all, he'd literally been caught with his pants down and he knew Magnum would play for keeps. With a wrenching motion, Magnum drew back his head with a mouthful of flesh, exposing a gaping hole in Drummond’s neck that quickly began overflowing with blood.
As their eyes met for a split second, Magnum could have sworn there was a look of regret there, then again it may also have been caused by the force of Drummond’s bowels evacuating themselves. Stumbling forward, both hands desperately clawing at the wound in an effort to close it up and staunch the flow, Drummond collapsed, knocking Maude off her feet and onto the conveyor. It only took a few seconds before the convulsions stopped and he took his last feeble breath there on the concrete but it felt like a lifetime and Magnum experienced none of the relief he'd expected to. As a matter of fact, the slamming deep in his skull and sizzling behind his eyes felt as though they were intensifying with each passing moment.
In an effort to keep from blacking out as well as out of concern, Magnum raced to his mother's side to make sure she was safe and unharmed. Staring blankly up at the ceiling, Maude made no movement to get off the line she just continued laying spread-eagle, mumbling something inaudible beneath her breath. Just when it looked as though she'd recovered from the Lamont ordeal, getting caught by Arnold was too much for her in the fragile state she was in.
She may never be right again. What will I do without her?
Magnum caressed is mother's head, he wanted to tell her everything would be alright but he knew that wasn't true. He'd never be able to dispose of Lamont and Drummond before his co-workers arrived for the morning shift. No, they'd be caught, the Authority would be called and he and his mother would be led away in restraints, never to see one another again. The only possible way they'd meet in the future would be on a weenie platter at some political function.
As he continued petting his mother's head he looked down and noticed that her nipples had become erect and the lips of her vagina glistened anew with arousal. Every fiber of his being said to pick her up and leave the factory as fast as his feet could carry them but his twitching cock had different plans. Before he knew what was happening, he was kneading one of her breasts and gently pinching her nipples. Fumbling with his zipper, Magnum unleashed his rigid cock from his pants and began furiously jerking it as he freed both of his mother's voluminous breasts from her top. It didn't take long before he'd hauled himself up on the conveyor and straddled her, he had no idea how far he was willing to take this but the harder he tugged at his dick, the faster his migraine began to subside. Not only was it slowly dissipating but the adrenaline rushing thru his body was like nothing he'd experienced before.
Unable to wait one second longer, Magnum threw both of his mother's legs over his shoulder and took one last look down at her face, as though he were about to take a leap from the highest diving board at a public pool. No longer distant and lifeless, Maude's eyes were fixed directly on his cock as it hovered above her pubic mound, threatening to enter the very place she'd so obviously tried to keep Magnum out of, for his own sake. She wanted him to enjoy his life before taking on the burden of procreation; she wanted him to grow up a bit more in order to fully understand the responsibilities that came with the re-population effort. She wanted his embryos to reach maturation, not end up spread on the cracker of some Authority bean-counter.
It was all too late for that now. She could see it in his eyes, the same drive she'd once seen in her husband before he was re-processed on his expiration date. There was no stopping Magnum's adulthood now.
Tenderly reaching between her son and her thighs, she parted her lips, turned her head and quietly said, “Don’t look at me.”
Magnum closed his eyes, guided his member to the entrance of her vagina and into his mother's waiting hands. She carefully adjusted the tip and slowly fed his impossibly hard snake inside of her. Wanting his first, deep thrust to count he pitched his weight forward, bracing himself on the ABC as he smashed into her cervix.
KA-CHUNK.
The ease in which Magnum's cock moved in and out of his own mother didn't surprise him, nor did the aroma of sex that he'd smelled so many times before. The one thing that really seemed to catch him off guard was the unbelievable depth of her vagina. It was as though she we
re swallowing his rod whole. It wouldn't be long now, he'd seen this moment thousands of times in his head but in those fantasies he was capable of lasting for hours and she was a bit more vocal. He'd only been at it for ten minutes and he could already feel the explosion working its way up from his swollen testicles. He quickened the pace, hoping for an epic finale that would result in a moment of unforgettable pleasure, his mother's undying admiration and, hopefully, usable fetal material.
This is it! Faster! Faster man, don't let Mom down!
With one final heave, Magnum felt the first burst of cum erupt to the surface. He opened his eyes, looked down and watched his purple penis piston in and out of her vagina, occasionally peeking out thru the top of Maude's severed torso. Jet after jet of sperm erupted from a pile of mashed up intestines and there, further down the line, was her upper body, jammed sideways in the ribbing chute. He could have stopped. He could have pulled himself out of his once vital mother's clean-shaven cunt but he was determined to finish, even as he felt his consciousness slipping and the darkness closing in.
When Magnum came to, he was still covered in sweat and his limp cock was beginning to glue itself to his abdomen. Rolling off of his mother's lower half, he pulled his pants up, shuffled down to where his mother's upper had come to rest and gazed upon her lifeless face. He wanted to see a smile on her face, something from beyond that told him he'd done well. Instead, he gently tucked one of her eyeballs back in its socket, said a silent prayer to the Goddess on his mother's behalf and made his way to the factory door. There was no way out of the dome and nowhere to hide inside the dome but he had no plans to stick around and wait for re-processing units.
Quickening his pace as he walked down the street something flitted past his face, catching his eye. He stooped down to pick it up. The flier read:
WE WANT YOU!
CITIZENS OF NEW NEW WORLD DOME, ARE YOU TIRED OF LIVING THE LIFE OF A DRONE? DO YOU WANT TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN THE LIVES OF YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY?
THE AUTHORITY HAS GIVEN US UNLIMITED CREDITS TO ESTABLISH ONE OF THE DOME'S MOST DECADENT FLESH FARMS YET! LIVE IN LUXURY AS ALL OF YOUR NEEDS ARE MET WITH A SMILE. UNLIMITED FOOD! UNLIMITED MATING! UNLIMITED POTENTIAL!
NOBODY WILL BE TURNED DOWN*! NO QUESTIONS ASKED! COME ON DOWN AND VOLUNTEER NOW, YOU WON'T BE PROCESSED UNTIL YOUR EXPIRATION ARRIVES AND NOT A MINUTE SOONER. ACT NOW WHILE CREDITS LAST!
YOU CAN FIND US ON THE CORNER OF UNCLE JESSE AVENUE & B.A. BARACUS BLVD., RIGHT NEXT TO BUCK ROGERS' BIG & TALL STORE.
Looking closer, Magnum read the fine print:
“*Must be over the age of ten years old but under the age of fifteen years old. Non-athletic Caucasians preferred. Parental consent not required. Volunteering is a non-reversible contract between citizens and the Authority.”
Could it be this easy? Over the age of ten and under the age of fifteen? Check, just turned eleven last month. Non-athletic and Caucasian? Check and check. Hell, it's better than the alternative, He thought, Mom would have wanted this for me.
Magnum P.I. made his way to Uncle Jesse & B.A. Baracus with a renewed sense of purpose. His Mother used to tell him that only men of action would be remembered, only men with the drive and ambition to take what they wanted would make their own way in the New New World. It was either ‘eat or be eaten.’
FALLEN ANGELS
M J Hyman
Charlie Reilly woke up hungry. It wasn’t the kind of hungry that you feel when you’re hoping that lunchtime will come soon. Rather it was the kind of hunger that made you feel that lunch time, and every other meal we all take for granted, would never come. Even before he opened his eyes that night, he prayed to the god he deep down hated, that his spiritual adversary would grant him the mercy of a good meal or at least some way to get one.
As he opened his eyes he was brought back to his cold and starving reality. Charlie hadn’t slept well. Charlie never slept well anyway, but he figured his new “home” would help some. It didn’t. The new refrigerator box he found behind the Bucks Buy appliance store was a bit warmer than the dumpsters he usually slept in.
I’m so sick of this shit happening to me, thought Charlie. Muttering to no one in particular he looked up at the dirty city sky and implored, “When am I ever gonna be in the right place at the right time? Fucking when?”
No answer came. Charlie knew that no answer ever would come and so he picked his tired, aching body up and moved toward his next “home”.
As he was sizing up whether his tattered shoes would stick out of the box when he dragged it back to the alley he now resided in. His mind went back to how he’d gotten to where he currently in the first place.
Charlie had been raised in luxury. His father was a successful attorney and his mother a master degreed accountant. He had never wanted for anything. He went to good schools and played a mean game of Baseball that eventually had gotten him a scholarship to an Ivy League college.
Life was good for Charlie Reilly. Really good until he fucked it all up! During a fraternity ‘Rush’ he and his fellow Frat Rat brothers had force-fed three boxes of granola to a pledge. The kid who had consumed all that fiber was feeling bad enough from the endless stream of shit that flowed from him. That and the fact that he was hit with a paddle every time his anus opened to relieve itself wasn’t what killed him. His tragic (and horribly messy) death was done due to the fact that the skinny 18 year old from Delaware was allergic to peanuts. The cereal brand that the members of the frat had selected was filled with remnants of the stuff from the processing plant. No one read the warning on the side of the boxes. The leading members of the fraternity could not care less about calories or ingredients. They just wanted to see a kid crap himself over and over again.
When their victim began to swell up and his throat closed, while he was pleading with them for help through his wheezing gasps, the frat boys did the thing that young and foolish people do. They got scared, argued amongst themselves about what to do and by the time they had settled on sneaking the boy back into his dorm, it was too late. The kid from Delaware who had hopes of becoming an electrical engineer was dead. Another pledge, scared for his life, dialed 911 and as the frat was trying to wrap a tarp around the body; the glow of blue revolving lights lit the walls around the room they were in.
The furor that followed the hazing incident and the lawsuit that followed put him in the public spotlight. There was such an outcry for reform that even with his father’s connections, he’d barely escaped jail time under the “Accessory to manslaughter” charges he was facing. Several of his frat brothers weren’t so lucky. Ten years to life for them. Charlie got a life sentence too though. His life sentence was to be disowned by his family.
With no other recourse and wanting to just hide from the world, he did what most marked men had done for centuries. He joined the military and prayed for battle. He felt that this would either help him clean up his “Karma” debt or get him killed. Both were good options as far he was concerned. But fate had other ideas...
He survived “Boot Camp”, but just barely. Charlie was not in the physical shape most of his fellow inductees were in. Most of them had anticipated the rigors of training before they signed up. Charlie had prepared for induction by drinking a bottle of cheap tequila to bolster his courage the night before he was to report. The drill instructors smelt the booze on him and laid into him almost the second he got off the troop bus. His sobriety was achieved after about thirty seconds of multiple DI’s yelling at him combined with fifty push-ups which almost killed him. But the ordeal gave him the strength to continue. Charlie through his pain and embarrassment was determined now, to prove to himself that he could survive anything.
The next few weeks flew past. He found that his college education (even though he was still a semester and 10 credits shy of a degree) gave him an edge in the aptitude testing to determine just where he’d fit in the US Army. He was offered Officer’s Candidate School and a chance to finish his degree. He turned it down. He had no desire t
o lead anyone or be responsible for him or her as well. He just wanted to get into battle and prove his worth. His skill with a rifle assured him of his goal.
All the years of playing paintball with his buddies and achieving incredibly high scores on video games like “D-Day” and “Firepower” was about to pay off. Charlie was perfectly accurate with every weapon they handed him. He achieved “sharp shooter” status and only weeks after graduating “boot” he found himself in transport to Afghanistan.
After reaching the dry mountainous land of conflict and terror, Charlie had no time to think of anything except to become more proficient at killing. He was assigned to an intelligence division and there, he bloomed like a flower after a hard rain in the desert. But like the desert rose… his time to blossom wasn’t going to last long.
He went out on several tactical missions where he picked off enemy targets with a mechanical efficiency. Charlie was actually becoming “addicted” to the adrenaline rush of going into the field. He was coming back with a list of kills like a fisherman would display proudly a string of Bass. He had received commendations from his superiors and was on his way to a promotion. Charlie was getting his life back by the taking of others. He was seriously re-considering entering ‘Officer’s Candidate School’ when the orders came in. Charlie grabbed his gear and headed to a waiting helicopter that was going to take him and three other “Specialists” into an unsecured area of the country.
As the chopper lifted off with his crew, he was unaware that the ship held another passenger. And that one was ticking away quietly under the clothes of the mercenary local ‘advisor’ who swore death to the infidels who were trying to lay claim to his country. Again, Charlie was in the wrong place and the wrong time, literally. The chopper was a few feet off the ground when the flash and ball of fire that resulted from the device’s explosion split the craft in several chunks; each of these pieces spinning and hitting one another as they reeled above the hard packed ground below. Through all the sound and fury only one survivor emerged. Fate now administered the final slap to what remained of Charlie Reilly’s hopes for salvation. The lone survivor of course was Charlie.
Masters of Taboo Presents: Cannibalism, Digesting The Human Condition (Limited Edition) Page 13