my dick goes in and i explode immediately i don’t know how it happens but the splinter grows into my hand and I fire fire fire into her stomach while i’m still inside of her. call it luck but I miss myself and her insides turn into dead convulsing worms. she dies at some point who cares i don’t. i don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t I don’t I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care
every word hurts.
**********
Sonic’s severed, rotting head could be seen from anywhere in Knothole. No one had looked up in years but they all knew it was there. Beatings were common here. Death was worse. Living was a joke, comfort wasn’t as funny. It was always muddy. It rained pain every hour, on the hour.
He was short and she was tall; he could tell that even from far away. She was covered in dirt and it looked like it hurt to stand, but she was still everything he ever wanted. The eyes, the body, the smile he imagined she was capable of, all of it, he wanted. He wanted her gifted soul.
She didn’t notice him staring at her, not over the crowds of guys around him, leering against the fence with him. Inside, she was surrounded by women, girls, ladies, all of them paling in comparison. He watched her, waiting for a blink, a twitch, anything that said that she was real, never mind alive. There was nothing.
The bell was about to ring. If he was going to make a choice he’d have to tell Oscar soon, before anyone else did. This close to lunch, half the town wanted in and in. No one wanted out anymore. Escape meant death 100%. They wanted to get as far inside as possible and curl into a painless ball, and wait for escape to find them. Was this sadistic?
Was this sadistic?
It was only a year. A year and it had come to this. Men in cages and women in cages in cages. Bells, whistles, shit, death, beatings, gasps, broken bones.
The boy was thirteen years old and he was the youngest. Kids would never survive. He would inherit this pile of gold if he lived longer than anyone, which age was never a factor if you were older than seven. He needed wit and luck as much as food and sex.
If he wanted her, he had to choose quickly. One or the other. What was he hungrier for: her, or food? What did he want? He could still get a place in line if he ran to the column, but this girl… this girl could die any day.
tomorrow
Turns out he didn’t have to choose. The final bell rang and he watched the undecided file away from the fence and watched the decided men rush in from the back of the fence into the cage, single file. The women stood to their feet and blocked the view of his love for a moment, an excruciating moment, but he saw her again, on her feet. She looked older than him, he realized. A few years.
Most of the men were big and worked out as much as they could, lifting debris and each other. In this place, you had to be big in order to survive.
One pile of cock near Oscar stood out to the boy in a strange way, and he knew why a moment later. He watched him walk up to the girl, his girl, his love, grab her by the neck, and drag her over to the fence. He flipped her around and the boy watched him stick it in and fuck her, hard, relentless. The boy watched for a few minutes before finally leaving, running away.
He just couldn’t get her out of his mind.
**********
The column was crowded because everyone knew that food outpour was gradually decreasing, and one day, nothing would come out at all. They didn’t think too much about it.
The boy’s three friends had secured places around the base. He could secure a place if he traded off with one of them. Sloshing through the mud and around quickening bodies, he made it in no time at all. They saw him immediately.
“Hey, dickhead.”
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Mm.”
They all went down for a suckle, pulling at the plastic tit for dear life, getting every drop of brown fluid they could. It tasted awful but it worked, but the worst part was the nipple. It made them think about sex and regret and their parents and inevitability and sex. It was an enemy that constantly saved your life.
The boy nodded to Garret, his favorite, the nicest, the one that had called him ‘dickhead.’ Garret acknowledged and stood back, breathing heavily, keeping on the lookout for muscleheads fresh from their fucks.
It started to rain. It was artificial and it burned. It always came during feeding time, dropping from the brown glass ceiling. The column was wet with it and ran over their lips as they sucked.
“Garret, don’t give him any, the worthless little freak.” Rick. The worst. The boy didn’t stop sucking.
“Yeah, where were you this time, sport? The yards?” This from Ty, who barely got out the sentence before going back to it.
The boy got up and let Garret go. “The pen.”
“Ahhhh, finally choose someone, sport? Or’d you just beat it like normal?”
“Beat it.” Garret came up, he went down.
“Leave the kid alone. He’ll drop one day.” Garret wiped his mouth and slurped the rest.
“Yeah, I hope he drops.” Rick reached over and pushed the boy’s head down on the tit. He almost choked on it but got the last of it before coming up. There was no reaction.
Ty came up suddenly, remembering something. “Guys. Listen. Pay attention to something.” Ty ran over to a fence nearby while they held his place at the column. He came back with a rock. Without pausing, he heaved it as hard as he could at the column. It sailed over their heads and struck the metal, catching the attention of several starving onlookers. The sound radiated high up the metal tower and subsided. Nobody watched.
“What the fuck was that all about?”
“Serious.”
“Well? Did you listen?”
Garret fumed. “Listen, shit. Get to the point, fuckhead.”
“The food gets lower all the time.”
“We know that.”
“Yeah, but look where it is now.” Ty stood on his toes and touched a point above his head on the metal. “They never refilled it. We’ve all been feeding on something that will be empty soon. But… more than that, these tits are going to close off when there’s still food inside.” He paused, savoring the dread. “I think.”
The boy cringed. He didn’t want to think about this. While his friends were frozen in thought, he took a long drag of sludge and came back up, hoping it was over.
Rick was the first to speak again. “You stupid mother fucker. Stupid, stupid mother fucker.”
“What the shit now, Rick?”
“He’s right, Ty. You don’t say crap like this.” Garret took a step forward. He had the same angry expression on his the last time Rick had said that it served the women right for not “killing all of the men right away.”
“Why not? It’s not dangerous-”
“Of course it is! Too many people start thinking about this and we’ll lose whatever laws we have left!”
The burning rain fell and fell. They ignored it. Rick stepped forward, helping to box Ty in. The boy watched this happen from their places at the tower that they were about to lose.
Ty didn’t back down this time. “Oh yes, please guys, fuck my ass hard-”
Rick’s fist slammed into the front of Ty’s skull, knocking him down. He got a couple of kicks in before Garret and the boy managed to hold him back. They lost their places. Ty got up from the ground, covered in burning mud and spitting blood. His eyes said, “If women ran this place, they would have escaped by now. They’d use their brains. We aren’t using shit. Yeah, women would think of a way out. Men, shit, all we think about are food and fucking. If we’re not sucking at tits we’re staring at others, wanting to. We’re all a big joke.” Ty was a weird guy.
His mouth said something completely different. “Fuck you, Rick, fuck yourself! You need to open your fucking eyes and look up for once!”
“What good would it do?” Garret held back a snarling Rick with both arms and had to speak up, “We lost as soon as HE put us in this cage. Hope doesn’t do us any good and you know it.”
Ty wiped his mouth clean, spat. “Hurts to be reminded that we’re all suckers, doesn’t it?”
“You son of a bitch! I’ll fucking knock your teeth out through your asshole!”
“Just try it, faggot!”
“Look who’s talking, cocksucker! I haven’t even seen you sticking it into anything but mud, motherfucker!”
Garret let go of Rick and let him fall on Ty. He walked off and the boy followed him. Some of the waiting crowd had gathered around to watch the fight and were jeering and starting ones of their own. Garret and the boy had to fight through the crowd to get out, and by the time they did, feeding time was over and the rain had stopped for the time being.
The boy noticed right away that they were heading in the direction of the spike. Then he noticed that Garret was trying not to cry.
“This fucking shit… this shit, I’m tired of it.”
“Yeah?”
“When they put all of the women into the cage… I didn’t say anything. I should have but I didn’t. And in a week I was down there with everybody else, all of those assholes we fought beside, that I used to admire, and I was down there with them sticking it into women that used to be our leaders. Look what we’ve done to them. We took control just to have something to hide behind. What are we? Shit, that’s what we are. We have all of these rules and nicknames for the places here, like this is our new home and we should get used to it. Whatever happened to escape? Whatever happened to the cause?”
They had reached the spike. Next to it was a small wooden box with a hole in it about the average size of everyone’s skull. On it were the words, scrawled in black and carved into the wood: “Freedom.”
Garret turned to the small boy, the tears in his eyes visible even in the rain.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough.”
The boy watched Garret stick his head into the hole and convulse when the spike inside slowly entered his brain through his left eye, or so he assumed. The nickname was really for the box and not for Sonic’s head. It took five minutes for Garret to die, and the boy left his body there as a group of males rushed in to eat. The rain burned and burned.
**********
Decisions had to be made by the boy. All of his chances were gone, all of his moments. There were substitutes here but he had to work to get them, and then maybe he could glimpse what he was never destined to see.
Half unconscious and drying out, he stood in the yard, watching others lift splintered wood high above their heads and grunt. They lifted dead bodies with one arm. They passed heads back and forth in long distances, sliding in mud and wrestling for control.
Control. Thought. Action.
Somewhere, the boy saw the moose he watched earlier, the one who had fucked the love of his life. He was sitting down, fresh food on his lips, laughing with whoever was around him, holding a large block of wood. He wasn’t smiling.
It wasn’t hard to pick him out. The boy and the moose looked so much alike.
The decision came. The boy knew what he wanted to do, and in an instant, he was across the yard and standing in front of the moose. He made eye contact. Everyone around him stopped moving to watch.
“Let me ask you something,” he said, bravery sinking quickly.
“What do you want, dick-squirt? You come to get fucked?” The moose stood to his feet and his friends laughed and jeered.
“I want to know if you’re using that wood you got in your hand.”
His eyes went wide. “This wood? You confused or what, punk?”
“Not confused.”
“Fag? You a faggot, fucker?”
“Not confused.” The boy shook his head, stopped. “I saw you earlier today. In the pen. Looks like you’re the one who’s a little confused.”
The moose was quick. The boy thought he actually saw the hand coming AFTER he felt the blow. He took the kicks until they subsided. “Listen, you little shit-”
“All I want is a piece! I can’t break it off myself! It has to be sharp!”
Another kick pushed him down into the mud. The kid closed his eyes, and in that moment, nothing was happening. When he dared to open them again, moose was eyeing the wood in his hand. He was trying desperately to grin. What came out was something between a grimace and a frown.
The boy didn’t cover himself anymore. He knew what was coming.
“Sure. Sure, kid. I’ll give it to you.”
**********
Later, the splinters in the boy’s face hurt him, no less than what hurt inside, but he had his piece of wood. It was sharper than he thought it would be. He felt a sense of what he thought pride was supposed to feel like. He got up and walked towards the pen, feeling parts of his flesh fall off. He was in the puddles for too long.
The boy wanted to cry but knew that it was impossible.
Why girls liked boys was a complete mystery to him. He looked at himself and was disgusted by the awkward architecture, his shrimp dick, his balls, everything that everyone always assumed that girls wanted. There was no reason why they should unless that was what they were brought up to believe their entire lives.
Everyone should just like girls, he decided. No one needs men. Why would they?
No one could come back from this. He hoped to god no one escaped. He hoped everyone died in here, as fast as methodic would allow.
Men caused this. Men were responsible.
How the hell was he supposed to feel?
Feeling the splinters penetrate his face, rubbing the sore area and soaking in the pain, he swallowed the thought that this was how all of those women felt every day, every second, all the time. Men provide but they control. Men like Robotnik do this because it’s what he’s compelled to, what they all are.
Conquest. Of one thing or another.
Make someone your bitch.
The boy remembered being loved by his mother. He also remembers seeing her in the pen one day, and the next, she was gone. good for her that she wouldn’t succumb to everyone but wait was it awhile before she did he doesn’t know it’s been too long only days but in his mind
back in i want back in
They can’t want this.
bells rang at random and we made up a schedule around it
The wood hurt to grip, so he gripped it harder. He reached the pen and looked inside, looking for her, her, her, her, her
mother
mom
The boy didn’t know how long he had been knocked out, but Oscar looked worried. He asked a question but the boy cut him off.
“O-open the gate. I’m ready.”
he gave us a cage and we used it
Love wasn’t what he was feeling. Desire came from his balls and only there. He could get rid of it quickly if he didn’t think about it.
don’t think
The gate was open
don’t try
There she was
just don’t
She watched him come in. She didn’t smile.
hold tight
He half-ran and jumped into her arms, stabbing and stabbing. He was so hard that it hurt.
her eyes went wide
Thrust thrust stab stab. The women scattered, ran away screaming. Good. Finally they do it.
doing you a favor
He took too long but it was over, for her and for him. He watched her die, and he liked to believe that she was finally happy that this was the end. That he saw it at all.
love love love love love
It rained and rained.
Love
He couldn’t believe he ever felt that way.
