____________________________ | | /)| KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF |(\ / )| DIRECTORIES |( \ __( (|____________________________|) )__ ((( \ \ > /_) ( \ < / / ))) (\\\ \ \_/ / \ \_/ / ///) \ / \ / \ _/ \_ / / / \ \ o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of o o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o o betical directories. o o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen Becker o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o Deserts (MF, v, sci-fi, goth) by Steven Ironstone Thorn (sthorn@ozemail.com.au) * The grey monitor lizard nuzzles the parched carcass of the wallaby. Dust and flies cloud. The lizard tears into the taut flesh across the rib cage. Entrails spill out, moist and purple. The lizard with a single sideways motion rips the maggot bloated viscera, raises its head, tendrils of flesh hanging from its lips, and swallows. All that day the man lay in the sun. His eyes stung with sweat, and he ignored them, watching the pulse in the crimson film of his eyelids. His beard, cut sharply under his cheekbones, was glistening and wet. The sun of noon burned his face, and he forgot it. His thin lips cracked and bled. The breeze of evening cooled him and he rose up, hollow and cadaverous when finally darkness descended and the lights of the city livened its shadows. The hotel furnishings and fixtures were built for a people smaller than himself, and that unnerved him. He showered, the water so hot it scalded his flesh a red that faded. He shaved, then swiped a flannel across the steam clouded mirror. He sneered at the face in that rivulet trickling slash. A high-browed, sun-burned grinning red skull face. The red death, he thought. And dressed in black and descended to be amongst the other empty shadows of the city floor. The sign over the graffiti scarred door read, The Fuck Club in violet neon. The light within was red, and the flesh. He felt anonymous in that light, amongst that flesh. He kissed the soft mouth of a pale beautiful manboy, and the hot breath of that mouth tasted of jism and milk and vomit, and that made him hard. The boy said, "I might suck your cock if its nice, then again I might not. Maybe I just want you to suck mine. I wont be fucked up the arse, though. My arse is too delicate for that." "Envious cunt." Said the red death. "I hate you so much I want to come in your face." And he hit the boy hard with the base of a beer bottle, so the boy's face broke and became ugly with blood. Then he was beaten himself and cast into the street. A tall, leather clad man looked into his face outside the red door of a club called The Pumping Room. And the man's eyes filled with fear. But the red death passed him by, entering the red door. Young people danced under the pulsing colored lights within, their bodies jerking in parodies of fucking, sweating the sweet pure dew of their innocence. A dark skinned girl with Elizabeth Taylor eyes and Persian jewellery said to the red death something he didn't hear and giggled. "I want to lay you on your belly on white silk sheets," he said, "and lift your arse in the air and slowly slide inside you, to feel your cunt devouring my cock, your buttocks rolling pressed by my hips. At the point of absolute devourment I'll push your face into the pillow until you're smothered and your ragged breathing stops." "The soft folds of my cunt are filled with barbed wire for you." Back in the hotel room, as her body cooled on the bed, the red death drew the curtains wide and stood back, looking into his mask in the city dark and city light smeared glass. He ran the few steps in great powerful strides and leapt, pushing his face into his face, so he penetrated and the virginal glass fractured around him. He fell tumbling, the cool airs of the night licking him, and was broken on the hard steel edge of a waste disposal bin. His body busted, but he lay twisted and crumpled amongst the spilled garbage and the livened shadows of the city night, twitching until the dawn, when a dog came and ate part of his entrails. The dog walked away and vomited. Flies laid their eggs in his guts, and when the man from the waste collection service found him, he swore he saw a red lizard crawling in the hollow of the man's belly, along his spine, and out his anus.