Contributor: Dirky Henkel - - Standing by the window, Odessa scratches that itch which never stops. This one is new, two days old. Her vagina's growing more swollen, turning light blue like her eyes, her pubic hair falling out in lumps. Every now and then she can see her vaginal walls move. And she knows it's a virus inside of her, another unwanted Hypherian baby, sucking its way into her womb as though there aren't enough of them leeching the planet. That's what shit like her is used for these days, breeding. She killed the first little fucker, because she found out. Giving birth to their young is suicide. They say you dissolve like acid. Rumours travel fast, even here in Block A329, a hundred floors up. There's comfort in complacency, especially when you're being fed pills. The haze from the outside creeps through the grille and makes...

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Author: Dirky Henkel

Contributor: Catfish McDaris - - I slash his throat and hands with my machete, as the scream escapes, I cut it into thin slices and deal them like a deck of tarot cards, then I wake up. Some nights it’s playing chess with Elvis and I wake before I checkmate the king. Or I’m a phrenologist and feeling the lumps on Hitler’s head before shoving a grenade in his mouth. Sometimes the night gathers me up in its arms and I listen to the mermaids whisper and laugh. Or the continuous sex of knocking boots with beautiful twin sisters, they decide to treat me down and doggie. They make me a nasty sandwich, by wiping their ass on bread, spitting on the cheese, blowing boogers in the mustard, jerking out some pubes for the lettuce and slicing dog doo for the main ingredient and covering it with salsa. It’s not as bad as it sounds. They let me shave...

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Author: Catfish McDaris

Contributor: Craig Podmore - - After walking the isolated, rural country road I finally come across an idyllic cottage. I spray my perfume, all over my neck, my wrists and my exposed cleavage. I knock on the door. A male dwarf answers; he thoroughly scans my legs, all the way up, past my thighs to my breasts and then finally my face. Not a word is muttered as I enter the cottage. Inside there’s a fire and two naked women, both wearing amputated pigs’ snouts that crudely deform their pretty faces. The perfume stings my skin as the salt of my sweat reacts. The heat is immense. I have no recollection of getting here... “Welcome, welcome! My beautiful flower is here.” The director greets me with his absurd sentiment. “Do you have the key?” He asks. An overwhelming confusion envelops me. “A key? I’m sorry…I…” “Don’t worry, princess…” He...

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Author: Craig Podmore

Contributor: Will Lawrence - - She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Was she unstable? Was she a pervert? Could this be a gateway fetish to something more bizarre, like S&M, or licking a man’s anus? Her boyfriend left her three weeks ago this Thursday. It was Tuesday. And now she felt damaged, unworthy of another long-term suitor, because she would inevitably carry this peculiar desire over from one relationship to another, and so on and so on… until, she feared, word would spread, and every eye belonging to every man, woman, child, and animal she passed in her day-to-day life would be not only aware, but firmly fixated on her, for that one and only reason. She would probably die alone. She couldn’t be more certain of that. She continuously told herself she was going to die alone, over and over, each and every day, and...

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Author: Will Lawrence

Contributor: Misti Rainwater-Lites - - She was quite the side dish, much creamier and more filling than potato salad or green bean casserole. No woman in her right mind wants to be meatloaf or turkey. That’s what wives are for. “You’d rather see me dead than with another man. Wouldn’t you, baby?” she murmured, nesting naked in stained twisted sheets and not so fluffy pillows. “Damned straight,” he said, tweaking her defiant left nipple. The newest hot shit reality show blared from the television, which was surrounded by empty wine bottles and gay sex magazines. “Survivor Small Press Poet Island.” If the two surviving poets did not resort to cannibalism they would win a book deal with Simon and Schuster and a lifetime supply of peppermint flavored condoms. There was a catch. The surviving poets would not be allowed to brag about their...

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Author: Misti Rainwater-Lites

Contributor: Dirky Henkel - - The weight of the man was gone, along with that smell of old nicotine. A scurrying sound indicated his exit. She stood, trying hard not to retch, and assembled what was left of her dress. The outline of her body was still embedded in the grass, on that patch where her life had been changed. She climbed out the park corner, left with nothing but a limp. And a secret. *** They were in the front garden taking pictures, just Nina and her boy as it always had been, preparing for his graduation day. Through the lens, she saw a mirror image, and shut her eyes to rid of the poison, those memories that rendered her a pigeon of a human being. She couldn't let them get to her now. So she breathed in. One last snap was enough. They joined the road. “You've grown up so fast,” she said and he agreed, and her hands...

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Author: Dirky Henkel

Contributor: Misti Rainwater-Lites - - Purple Pieman is lurking around, peeking through windows. Goddamn he needs to find a yummy bitch! Then he chances upon the candled glow of Golden Dream Barbie’s bathroom window. Oh fuck. Oh GOD. There she be, all creamy incandescent nubile plastic glory, reason enough to swoon beneath the pumpkin moon. She’s soaking in a garden tub filled with bubbles and she’s SINGING. Purple Pieman slobbers but does not ejaculate, not yet. There is world enough and time. He opens the window, climbs in. Golden Dream Barbie sure is surprised! “Who…who are you?” “Baby, I’m your preacher. I’m your teacher. I’m your daddy. I’m the baker of your miracle pies, the manufacturer of your most gleaming dreams. I’ve come to take you away, baby girl. Calgon can only take you so far. I take you the rest of the way. Next stop…O-Town!” “You’ve…you’ve...

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Author: Misti Rainwater-Lites

Contributor: Stacy Maddox - - Remembering the first time We made love on the carpeted floor Always makes me smile And still remains a favorite It wasn't just sex with her But a slow, sensual seduction After long days and hot nights Waiting for just the right moment She was the experienced one Temptation lured me in Enticed, anticipating passion I watched her with hooded eyes Finally needing to feel The woman to woman kiss Shy, tender, exciting, raw I couldn't wait for more To touch her slickness, to know What she already knew Silky, soft parting of skin A tongue on my hungry breast She was between my thighs Lingering, probing, licking, moaning Seeking out secret places I didn't imagine existed Crying out, wanting no end I could smell her scent Tangy, sweaty, sweet As she brought me higher I had to taste her There, between smooth,...

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Author: Stacy Maddox

Contributor: Nathaniel Tower - - Krista seemed normal enough, but if I'd known how wild and sticky things would get, I might've stayed away. We met my sophomore year of college. She was standing in the quad looking up at a gargoyle on the side of a building I'd never even noticed. At the time I didn't know what she was looking at, which made it easy to go and talk to her. "What are you looking at?" I asked in my ever-so-smooth first line. It took her a minute to realize I was talking to her. "Are you talking to me?" she said just as smoothly. "Of course," I said in a way I thought wasn't rude. Then she told me about the gargoyle and I asked her out. She accepted and our first date was that night. I told her right on the spot that in addition to being the prettiest girl on campus (she wasn't), she was also the most interesting (she was)....

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Author: Nathaniel Tower

Contributor: Brian J. Smith Writing as Chance - - SHE EASES HIM ONTO THE EDGE OF THE BED AND STEPS BACK. SHE BITES bashfully on her thumb, stares seductively at him and slides her hand down the left crease of her strapless red dress; the front of the dress pushes her bosom high up on her chest. He shrugs off his camel-colored work shirt, lets the lamplight from the bedside table trace the contours of his rock-hard stomach, and tosses it over the back of a nearby chair. She slides the dress down her slender frame, exposes ashen skin pulled taut over her ribs and feels it caress her ankles on its way to the floor. He discards his blue jeans, leaves them in a heap around his feet and steps out. “Looks like I’ve bagged me a good one.” She says. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.” Without hesitation, she jumps across the room...

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Author: Brian J. Smith

Contributor: Sez A - - In darkness it’s easier to reminisce. It’s the dream you see, sucking my eyelids. The skeletal doctor hovering above performed an idle dance. But I recall your small voice, “resting”, it said, as I felt the abominate wriggling through my nose. The icy slumber is rotting, bitter rims painted with slime hardened and still you licked my torment in farewell - - - Sez A likes words and draws things. She's a big fan of vod...

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Author: Sez A

Contributor: Robert E. Petras - - I promised to give them something to remember at the Halloween party for the rest of their lives, me all dressed up as the Flasher Vampire. I’d swing open my Count Dracula cape and flash a big rubber dong and goose them all— Snow White and the Seven Dorks, the Mojo Man, Little Redneck Riding Hood, Prince Uncharming— showed them all, showed Charlie Chaplin some real slap-dick comedy as I dick-slapped the gal wearing the nun costume, all the time accosting them with my best Bela Lugosi “good evening,” “Good evening, princess, good evening, Amish Amy, good evening, your geekness and I’d flash and swing my rubber dong and once told the Genie if she rubbed it three times I’d grant her three wishes. Mullet Man I flashed, Wonder Bra Woman I flashed, I even flashed them the flesh, then I flashed my fangs --the...

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Author: Robert E. Petras

Contributor: Misti Rainwater-Lites - - They met at a poetry reading. Billy was the star poet. He sold six copies of his latest poetry collection, Use A Dick. Lori was a fan. Billy’s biggest fan ever, she claimed. “Would you sign my book, please?” Lori asked Billy with a shy smile. Billy couldn’t take his eyes off Lori’s considerable cleavage. “Certainly. What’s your name, babe?” Billy asked. “Lori,” Lori said with a giggle. Billy signed the book and handed it to Lori with a wink. Lori read the inscription. _Lori, I’d love to use my dick on you. Love & Stuff, Billy._ Lori blushed and giggled. She grabbed Billy’s black pen and scrawled her phone number on his left forearm. “I’ll never wash my arm again,” Billy said. The wino motel room lacked ambiance but Billy and Lori weren’t there for candles and roses. They weren't there for...

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Author: Misti Rainwater-Lites

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the po...

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Author: Dirky Henkel

Contributor: Ted Minnow - - There were two humans walking in the forest. They had penises. They were walking towards a house. Sam: “Are we there yet?” Lauren: “Yes.” And they were. There was a house, right there in the forest. It had all the normal things houses did, except for a door or windows. It was made of concrete. Out of the house stepped a person. Sam and Lauren had come to see this person. “Hello, people,” said the person. “Hello, friend,” Sam and Lauren said at the same time. “Yes, come in.” The person thought Sam and Lauren were pretentious to use that word, friend. They were not friends. None of them were friends. None of them had friends. But Sam and Lauren did. They thought they had many friends. There was the person who gave them entrance to the forest. There was that tree who was alive. There was this person now,...

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Author: Ted Minnow

Contributor: Stacy Maddox - - I savor the way your thick seed Runs quickly down my quivering thighs As I stand to put on slowly, unhurried My bikini bottom and suntan lotion I take my own time with looks Under hooded, satisfied green eyes I haven't a care in the world As you watch me flip streaked hair You wander off to the kitchen As I gather the towels and radio Winding the dial up to the station To music I'm in the mood for today I close the sliding glass door And make a path straight to you Pinning you against the sink Suggesting I want your sex again Rubbing my hands, seeking you out Sliding my sensitive, white breasts Over the silver hoop that hangs Through your small left nipple Nibbling your ear, I feel you suck Your breath in swiftly, almost startled You're hard again, to my delight I smile a secret smile to myself Whispering...

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Author: Stacy Maddox

Contributor: Andrew Ross - - Love is like Ratkiller. I came up with this idea a few months ago. I found rat droppings in my house and I could hear this rat running around in the walls and across the floor and shit when I was sleeping. So I bought some of those rat cages, those supposedly animal-friendly fuckers that poison the rat to death. I placed those cages all over the motherfucking house. I spent three days finding cupboards, closets, whole fucking crawl spaces I’d never even seen before—shit not even on the fucking blueprints—just so I’d be sure if this motherfucking rat was going to run around my house, then this motherfucking rat was going to run into a cage. You know what I’m saying? So I placed the cages carefully—commando style—and waited. I heard noises in the walls. The next day nothing. And I’m like, that’s right bitch....

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Author: Andrew Ross

Contributor: Kymera Dix - - I’m eating, again. I’m always eating. It hurts not to. Not like the hurt when I hit my baby toe, or somethin. Oh, I admit that that =really= hurts...a lot. This is more like a bad tooth ache or strep throat. All over. It don’t gradually go away on its own. It stays and stays and keeps getting worser and worser. Until I gotta take =sometin= to ease da hurtin. My sumtin is food. Soze I eat an eat an eat. Stopped by da Chineze place onna way home tday. Gotta shrimp eggroll. Came home, picked out all doze teeny, tiny shrim. Flustem. Watched dey lil naked krussashun korpses swirl way into toilet blivian. Awmoze fell comin owta da batroom. geddin seepy nah all dem pills bedda take some mo justa be sho chasem wi beah awmoz geddin too seepy t eat dasa laff bess eda ro nah chazit gutza churnin...

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Author: Kymera Dix

Contributor: Chris Vola - - 1. One evening Uncle shat into your sister and reached for a towel. “Snap Crackle and Pop,” he said, and you shoved his snakeskin then, for you and your sister, into the corner table next to him until its head split and he made you lick the ketchup off and your dad charged in and you were bellowing through the house with your tee shirts pulled up, fleeing to your room and hidden under your blanket, exposed. You thought they would smack your bellies then. Instead, things were quiet for hours. You fell asleep being aliens. Afternoons spent you up. Your asleep sister was fine, then screaming at the wall, “We’re not afraid of you,” regenerated, grown into two new heads, mothlike as she jumped, punctuating the word kitchen and wanting to know if you wanted some and laughing like crazy. At some point your...

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Author: Chris Vola

Contributor: Kyle Yadlosky - - “Just let me out, baby,” my girlfriend, Trisha’s voice drifts from the bathroom. “I think I’m late.” My back is pressed against the door so she can’t escape, legs squared. “No, no,” I say. “Let’s not call it, yet. It just hit midnight.” “Come on. Let me out. You know nothing bad’s gonna happen.” “That’s the demon talking.” Through the door, I hear her sit on the toilet. She sighs into her hands. “You might wanna take off your panties,” I suggest. She huffs at that. Then, her breathing shakes, breaking into sobs. She hicks and gasps, and I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. Shattered breaths piece together out of her mouth. She sobs and wails in low tones. Then, the crying turns to panting, then laughing. Then, she cackles. The cackling rises, cut by quick inhales. She screeches toward the...

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Author: Kyle Yadlosky