Meanwhile the sky had turned quite thundery, and, with nightfall, huge raindrops began plopping down, bringing relief from the harshness of a torrid, airless day. The sea was loudly raging, out roared by long rumbles of thunder, while flashes of lightning, bright as day, kept brusquely revealing the two pleasured cunts of the now silent girls. A brutal frenzy drove our three bodies. Two young mouths fought over my ass, my balls, and my cock, but I still kept pushing apart female legs wet with saliva and come, splaying them as if writhing out of a monster’s grip, and yet that monster was nothing but the utter violence of my movements. The hot rain was finally pouring down and streaming over our fully exposed bodies. Huge booms of thunder shook us, heightening our fury, wresting forth our cries of rage, which each flash accompanied with a glimpse of our sexual parts. Simone had found a mud puddle, and was smearing herself wildly: she was jerking off with the earth and coming violently, whipped by the downpour, my head locked in her soil-covered legs, her face wallowing in the puddle, where she was brutally churning Marcelle’s cunt, one arm around Marcelle’s hips, the hand yanking the thigh, forcing it open.

Georges Bataille
Story of the Eye

Unburied melody

July 18, 2019

I have pasts inside me that haven’t been properly buried –


July 18, 2019

You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.”

Franz Kafka
Letters to Milena

Bent naked over a table, his wrists and ankles immobilized by leather straps, the man watches her slow approach. Encased in shiny black PVC she says, ‘You’ll never guess what I’m going to do to you…’

He makes a gargling sound behind that terrible ball gag.

She leans forward and whispers to him. His eyes widen in horror as the meaning of her words sinks in. His supplications are unintelligible; his safe word is this choked off imprecation of dribbled saliva.

‘You won’t enjoy it,’ she says, straightening. ‘But you will understand that I’m truly a dark-hearted bitch.’

Her laughter has the deceptive quality of crystal wind charms in a mild summer breeze.

He half-screams behind the gag when she begins. She is without mercy, unrelenting. His desire fades, becomes regret before the flashing darkness leaves him unconscious.

Outside the street is bright with afternoon sunlight.