Pineal Discharge

Short stories. Unrelated scenes of violence and bizarre vignettes.
Some(most) of these stories contain graphic violence,sexual content and drug use. Also , lots of fucking language and shit. So yeah , viewer discretion is advised? Not for children. Unless you're one of THOSE children.
Yeah , you know who you are.



9. Inside Out

The street is filthy. Trash , used needles , used condoms. Homeless meth addicts and underage prostitutes.  Abusive pimps , muggers , gangsters and gang-bangers. The street is filthy. Some guy on acid making a steaming bowel movement in the street. I'm just here for some action. I'm walking down an alley in the red light district. Whores upon whores. Some too old , some too young. Some clothed , some naked. All of them selling the same thing. Pussy. Except one. One who is completely naked. A transsexual hooker with a strange design tattooed on "it's" neck. I approach him her with a strange curiosity. Not because I'm into trannies. But because this is the person I'm here to meet. This person calls itself J. Just J. This person has promised me untold pleasures. I'm a masochist and an auto sadist. It said it would provide me with that kind of pleasure. I follow J into a dirty apartment building. The kind of building where you can smell the mold growing on the corpses of dead rodents in the wall. The kind of building where the walls look more faded than normal. Where black streaks up from the bottom of the old wall paper. I follow J into an unmarked apartment. The place is empty except for dust and twin size mattress by the window. It's a big window that overlooks the city. Outside , on the street below , two evangelists are in a shouting match. One spouting off about the end of the world , the other talking about health , wealth and prosperity.  I turn back to J. J's wearing clothes now. Most of the transsexuals I've known have been obvious transsexuals. But J , J looks just like a girl. Almost unnaturally like a girl. No Adam's apple , no broad shoulders , no jagged , protruding , male jaw. Nothing but a slight (penis)bulge in it's blue jeans. J tells me to undress. "How should I pay you?" I ask. "This one's on me", J says. After I undress , J tells me to stick my hand in my mouth. My entire hand. "It'll fit" J says reassuringly. I reach into my mouth. My entire hand fits. But then my hand keeps going in. It starts to push its way down my throat. I can feel my skin start to burn when it reaches my stomach. By now , my jaw's dislocated and my forearm is stretching my mouth and throat wide. This experience. This feeling. This feeling of complete helplessness.Complete desperation. It's got me hard. My hand keeps going deeper. I feel my intestines. In my small intestine I can feel the bits of half digested salmon I ate earlier. The small bumps on the sides rubbing my arm , pulling on my arm hair. I have lost all control of my body. My shoulder is about to go into my ripping bleeding mouth. I'm starting to hunch as more of me goes into my mouth. I can feel my innards getting bunched up around the appendage forcing its way through them. My spine is curved as far as it can go. I hear a loud tear. My spine flies over my head onto the floor in front of me and J. But I'm still alive.  J doesn't look human anymore. Something covered in hair. Something more intimidating. I feel my hand working its way through my large intestine. Then it pushes out through my rectum. The sphincter muscles and skin tearing and bleeding. Dried fecal matter. Appendectomy warning. Explosive cerebral palsy. Blank expressionless mimes wander in and out of focus. The cameras flash and the photographers shriek in joy , jerking off to long existential poems. The date stamp on the video reads 7/9/2012. Cars pass by in extremely uncomfortable movements. The coffee beans grinding together like college girls in heat. Vacuum salesmen exposing themselves to random strangers and their children. Oh the agony. Oh the orgasm. Oh the unwanted connection craved by millions. More of me is going into my mouth. More bones popping out of place and tearing through my skin , forming a pile on top of my removed spine. It continues like this for two hours. Stretching , tearing skin. Until I'm completely inside out. All my organs are on the outside. Becoming acquainted with the dust , germs and microbes of the outside world of this dusty apartment. The pain is excruciating. Ecstasy inducing. I let out muffled groans of pain and pleasure. The orgasm is insignificant compared to this. I hear J gather up my bones. I don't need them. I hear a light switch flip. It doesn't matter to me. I can't see any more. I hear a door close and lock. The locking is completely unnecessary , seeing as I'm now a blob of twisted organs and flesh writhing the bliss of the ultimate physical experience.  

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