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Underground eXperts United File 450
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Underground eXperts United
Presents...
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[ Sphincter Hatch ] [ By Max West ]
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R. H. Pollette writing as Max West
1175 A Oak st. (C)1977 R. H. Pollette
San Francisco, CA
(415) 626-1701
Extract from
S P H I N C T E R H A T C H
BY M A X W E S T
Audry knew they were talking about her - didn't they all! And yeah!, she
was in the bathroom alright, in fact she was more in the bathroom than
she'd ever been or would be, if Doreen, a generally trustworthy source,
who'd turned her on to what was going down in the little girl's room
wasn't just lying; she was still skeptical. Gingerly Aud positioned herself
over the Italian Futurist style bidet - polished gold highlights and
Euro-tech engineering, complimenting a spotless white bowl. She'd seen one
of these things before but she was still uncertain if she was straddling it
with the proper amount of e'lan. While she worried momentarily if Europeans
watching her would think she was cool and had mastered the technique,
soothing ambient sounds from the wall speakers and the first tickling
probes of the much discussed Warm water spray/Dual Lick Action, (Pat.
Syntheotongue6669990), had begun to put her at ease in ways she hadn't
considered before. Audry decided that etiquette wasn't going to be an
issue. She glanced at the instruction plate against the back wall, quickly
reading it before depositing the fifty cents required to run the optional
'G' spot massager. "Hell!" she said under her breath, "I'm worth it!"
The machine was so gentle yet insistent Aud wondered, between the
waves beginning to crash on the shores of Libido Beach, where this handsome
bidet had been all her life. As she gathered momentum to the rhythms of
her porcelain mount it struck her that the damn toilet had a Hell of a lot
more sensitivity than any man she'd ever met... These and other thoughts
just like them, were rudely interrupted by an untimely knocking on the
stall door.
"'Scuse me, are you about through in there, we'd like a turn
too..." Before Audry could send her visitors packing she was engulfed in a
searing blast of orgasmic heat, like a tour through the heart of a
collapsing dwarf star, hammering her from head to toe; All systems were
GO!, the massager had found its mark. She panted over the inarticulate
fixture. On the other side of the door someone was impatiently tapping a
foot and mumbling under their breath: "Damn! How long's it take anyway?"
but she had absolutely no intention of leaving until she'd milked her fifty
cents worth out of the obliging bidet.
She was thankful at first when the nuisance finally left a few
minutes later, then regretful at the machine's last tremors, shaking it to
a stop. Reluctantly she slid off, pulling up her pants with a snap. It was
just as well, she didn't have any more change and she should get back to
the table anyway, before Dirk stole her drink.
"That was so good.." she told the appliance's reflection, while she
fixed her lipstick in the mirror over the sink, "I'm going to give you a
gold star and you can be my pet every Saturday night from now on."
Audry suspected, considering who owned the place, that almost everything in
the 'Drop' was boosted from the Alien visitors that sometimes showed up
over at the county seat - for all she knew the damn thing winking under the
overhead florescence lights, was probably alive, maybe even intelligent.
She eyed the Bidet ruefully.
"Whaa?" grunted Dirk, downing another shot and fixing J. with a
bloodshot eye.
"Where'd she go man?! Where did Audry go?" J., who'd intended
needling the fucked-up Dirk by suggesting Audry had maybe found other
amusements, was getting sort of worried himself; she'd been gone too long.
Dirk gazed around slowly and saw only the wild gyrations of the screaming
patrons. Deliberately, he took another shot, wavering slightly in his seat.
It was too goddamned loud in there. J., who didn't like anyone having more
fun than he was, whether they were or not, was getting seriously pissed at
his pal.
"WHERE DID SHE GO, MAN!!!? He yelled over the throbbing band.
Without warning Dirk covered J. in a thick blanket of hot orange vomit. His
entire body convulsed like a frantic sea slug across the table top,
struggling to squeeze every last drop out of himself and onto his intended
target. The dry heaving bellows and choked cries of anguish to a,
(hopefully), merciful god, escaping Dirk's lips sent some of the lower
life forms in the place, tuned to decibel reflex, into automatic rut
response battling each other on the dance floor with spontaneously erupting
antlers, showing off alien plumage that did not equate favorably with most
of the folks there. All too soon the groovy dancers were locked into
ceremonies of a more basic nature which though perfectly normal in an
antediluvian swamp at mating season, were, even in a club such as this one,
completely inappropriate.
The Emcee lit a cigarette in the gloom behind the stage. To a fly
on the wall he might have seemed not unlike a young, though somewhat
flabby, dissipated and unappealing, Frank Sinatra at his peak. Exhaling
gratefully he commented to no-one in particular,
"Sure is loud out there..." Realizing that he was not alone he
leaned against one of the supports, bow tie hanging loose, watching the
little gal in the shiny VR suit, slowly shuffling on her hands and knees
out of the shadows, toward him.
"What's your name baby?" he crooned to her when he thought she was
close enough to understand him. Audry looked up, startled that a happy
green VR dinosaur - a distant cousin to Barney, she supposed - could or
would smoke; it didn't seem very healthy. All around it the virtual
landscape sprouted cute multi-colored geometrical polygon flowers and
Tetrahedral shapes to a jungle rock sound track. Rolling hills covered with
fractal vegetation under a perfectly blue sky, completed the scene. The
devious Announcer recognizing an opportunity when he saw one - this chick
was so obviously lost she didn't know if she was coming or going - reached
for the fly of his Tuxedo pants and immediately the frank sound of zipper
teeth opening wide filled the air. Mr. happy Saurian seemed to pull a magic
ice cream out of nowhere, like a special trick just for her and right on
top, invitingly red and shiny, was a big red cherry; Audry knew she just
had to have a lick, and pretty soon she did! Yummy!
Our overly-confident Emcee stood bowed, his inflated gray fleshed
cock, like the stump of an amputated limb, jutting from his pants directly
into the face of the confused girl in front of him who in VR space, still
thought she had herself an ice cream cone.
"Nice Dino, hold still, will you?" Audry slurred. To the reader:
Earlier she'd checked out one of the 'members only' suits with the Beta
Zovian's credit card, but was now too drunk to remember she even had it on.
Taking a great big bite she heard the Dinosaur gasp.
"Careful! O.K.? It's the only one I got!" Audry smacked her lips
trying to localize the suddenly familiar flavor. Something about the taste
of that icy treat put her in mind of a certain smart-ass Emcee at the Drop.
The stats rose in her mind unbidden, outlined in Day-Glo green: Mange,
Benjamin P.
Age: 34. Sign: Sagittarius. Employment: Announcer at Dew Drop Inn.
Breakdown: Male: 98%. Groovy: 78%. Fun: 65%. Gets along well with others:
54%. Snappy dresser: 89%. First impression: 97%. Trustworthiness (short
term): 98%. Trustworthiness (Long term): 12%. Ass kissing: 99%.
Audry pulled back, alarms beginning to sound through her alcohol
haze - it was becoming all too clear: The Ocho Ball Disco Lounge in L.A...
The guy with the comb over and fluffy sideburns who looked like an
accountant, dressed in a brown velvet suit and sky-high platform shoes
wavered before her. Through the gap in the purple Tom Jones shirt
unbuttoned to his waist, a Sagittarius medallion the size of a Volkswagon
hubcap swung on a gold chain against the bare white puffiness of his chest.
"Hey, disco mama! Wanna do some Blow?" He'd asked innocently enough. He
seemed like a nice guy there in the Men's as he chopped out lines of the
white stuff; the Right Stuff! Jabbering away: "Did you know there's a
product on the market that's made from cadaver flesh?" Out on the dance
floor the BeeGees were layin' down a cool beat : "Ah!, Ah!, Ah!, Ah,
stayin' aliiiii-ve!"
She couldn't help noticing that against the black satin sheets of
his bed, without his platform shoes and medal, he'd seemed rather small and
uninteresting. The next day Lewis, jealous as a Bitch-Queen, had made her
read Disco-Boy's dossier (he'd compiled one on everybody she'd ever met).
Page 1. B. P. Mange: First sexual encounter with second/third party:
Frantic intercourse at scene of freak hunting accident, subsequent erotic
addiction to "Field and Stream" magazine. Hypothetical, juvenile trauma
suggested by reaction to various stuffed heads in father's trophy room,
including: Giraffe, Hyena, Snapping Turtle, Deer, Bengal Tiger, Tufted Tit
mouse, Manta Ray, Howler Monkey, Black Adder, Three headed Chernobyl Human
infant in pickle jar. Also suspected: various discarded gun parts including
Mauser firing pins, Pork belly extruder/smoker mechanism from mid-twentieth
century Germany, Plasma pumps from vintage Eradicator hand guns...
"Aw shit!" sputtered Audry, coughing on what she'd assumed was virtual
melted ice cream from a virtual sugar cone. She ripped off the goggles in a
spasm of loathing, now fully conscious, trying to get out of the way of the
torrent of grunting, milky sludge pumping from the guy's mindless,
chancre-pocked yet undeniably well-veined fuck rod.
"Oh Baby! You know I can't hold back once you stick that raspy
little Leopard tongue on me, YAAAAA!!!" Mange, eyes clamped shut in lust,
didn't realize Audry was thoroughly out of VR space and now analyzing his
pitiful display.
"For God's sake!" Even though she'd avoided most of the stinking
discharge, the stuff was in her hair and all over the rental suit -
somebody'd have to pay the cleaning bill, but it sure wasn't going to be
her! Why couldn't life just be like that clean, happy place where Mr.
Dinosaur hung out?, (even if he did smoke), she asked what was obviously an
extremely disinterested Universe. Behind her Benjamin howled at an imagined
full moon.
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uXu #450 Underground eXperts United 1998 uXu #450
ftp://ftp.etext.org/pub/Zines/UXU/
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