rose x rikki
martin frank

rose x rikki

by

martin frank

entertainment for alienated teenagers

what others said

dedication

in memoriam

acknowledgement

thanks

an apology

who the fuck are you anyway?

preface to the past

the silver stallion

explanatory note on handling

what is rose x rikki and how should it be consumed?

when should rose x rikki not be consumed?

when should rose x rikki be consumed with caution?

should one kill oneself after consuming rose x rikki?

can rose x rikki be consumed during pregnancy and the lactation period?

how should rose x rikki be consumed?

what are the possible side effects of rose x rikki?

what else should be considered?

what does rose x rikki contain?

(an author's translation of
the tribal novel

into sync)

a dream of red roses

iason rose is the roses' lead singer. the roses need no introducing, they're world-touring, mass-psycho, massively best, where rose passes, hysteria reigns, fan helpline overload. on stage they're like steppenwolf a giant music machine progressing towards absolute sound. listening body gets stoned without shit.

in a class room

when shit heard about rose first, shit thought

and shit little pup heart fluttered, shit little pup prick pricked up, thinking about rose while the teach scratched the black board, explaining why water boils while shit squeezed shit cock through the lining of shit pockets, and why it freezes while cool cum was dribbling down shit underwear.

daily delight

every morning wanking shit thought…

…and dreamed rose would look at shit, nod and say in sync

and shit would answer in sync

but not go at all, wait for rose to force shit to be his pet, shit knew it wouldn't care what rose did.

dream of rose

the lord of the roses

in the basement of an abandoned slaughterhouse SHIT is chained naked to a wall.

ROSE whips SHIT.

ROSE throws the lifeless body on the concrete floor and fucks the shit out of SHIT.

travel plan

the roses are touring. shit plans to follow them to end of the world or secret wishes fulfilled, the earlier. spend nights outside astro domes in a sleeping bag shared with, and have occasional sex, with other equally frantic roses fans (fucktory will not remark anything until afterwards).

arguments against blondie x pet relationships

2nd thoughts

• mongrels should fight for mongrelia.
• androids are born and sworn enemies of the mongrels.
• to become an android's pet means betraying the mongrel struggle.

3rd thoughts

• androids are genetically and morally superior to mongrels.
• it is only due to doors' untiring generosity and the androids' supra-intelligence that today sc mongrels enjoy the highest mongrel standard of life in mongrel history.
• va's aspire to form a class who may be interpreters between the androids and the millions whom they govern, a class of persons mongrel in blood and color, but android in taste, in opinions, in morals, and in intellect.
• a he-mongrels aspiration is to provide high value genetic base material.
• a she-mongrels aspiration is to carry genetically improved embryos.

of corruption (cont'd)

the necessity never arose, cause shit corrupted shitself. dreaming of rose, of being rose's pet, in tc, in indoc benches, while old tamperer crows bored rows and rows of sexually active urchins with that by sheer necessity there must be something called

garden of delight

nightly delight

every night in bed shit imagined, wanking

shit had no clue what would happen, or yes, shit knew, theoretically, what rose was supposed to be doing with pets, but shit could not focus on it, just dreamed of belonging, of being transported, of being the source of rose's pleasure, and came into the fluffy terry cotton fucktory pajama bottoms and slept like the sweet little pup shit was supposed to be.

shit hoped rose would fuck any barely two figure age pup coming his way.

to rose

f day

when the roses hit marion park, shit sneaked into leonidas polk hall through an exit door kept open by shit smoking stage hands waiting for vodoo chile™ pizza delivery. stage test, sound test, light test, there were pups watching hoping to catch the eye, to lick *** heels, ready for supreme self-sacrifice. during the light test, shit climbed onto the stage, eyes glued to rose.

a furniture lighted a joint for rose. shit kept nearby, rose looked at shit and said

shit went blank, stuttering what thousand times in bed, in class, pissing, shitting, wanking, at table, under public scrutiny shit had dreamed to answer to rose

rose looked the trembling shit over, asked nothing, offered the joint

shit took a deep breath and handed the joint back. ecstatic hope of acceptance, abysmal fear of rejection, rose kept the door open for shit when shit followed him backstage

shit nodded, hands gripping t-shirt to undress. rose said grinning

fucktory would visit well-heeled pupless relatives tonight, life is all about priorities.

rose said to a furniture

long time hanging in with that furniture, passport to rose.

in a furniture cell

full of porn mags, computer with a pest hunt game, drinking stout, smoking shit.

the furniture let shit play too, bumping off pest mongrels like it's the funniest thing on earth, shit kept laughing. the furniture kissed and touched shit up, kind of while shit kept shooting mongrels, lips smiling, mind revolting, prick getting hard. shit dropped the joystick and kissed and felt up the furniture, first time shit gets close to a furniture, sudden shock of furniture reality.

the furniture let shit watch an emo…

fate

Forever

a film by
ratanadilak kamtrakul

TRII gets the room in order.

PATTON is on the bed.

TRII sits down on the bed massaging PATTON's legs. PATTON kicks TRII's hands away

PATTON takes out his calculator and calculates.

PATTON and TRII kiss and embrace and make tender love for the rest of the episode.

in a furniture room (cont'd)

shit fell asleep next to the furniture, spooning the furniture's back, the furniture was there to keep shit for rose.

in rose's room

from deep sleep shit staggered into an elevator, the furniture pushed shit into rose's suite, lights dimmed, stuff on the floor, no pet, no furniture, welcome to the dream!

weird soft music like dire straights on acid, rose watched tcc™ lying half naked, jeans open on a president size bed smoking a joint. shit kneels next to bed, takes off clothes, rose shares the joint, pushes shit head to his groin, shit does shit best to suck rose's cock, while rose is watching…

precious moments™

rose pushed shit head towards his massive cock, which seen from zero distance looked a fucking tool, there was a split second of fear, not of the impressive swollen organ, but that rose would feel that shit had no experience, that shit would waste the chance to please rose. shit nearly wiped out, licking rose's cock like a fucking giant ice cone until rose pushed shit head down to gagging and beyond. rose's hand did with shit head what rose wanted to be done, not to vomit was the main problem, shit was lucky cause for rose the best fuck was the fuck which was worst for the fucked. whatever shit did or didn't with lips and tongue mattered little, rose came when he felt that he was fucking an urchin for good, or about. to have shit head guided up and down rose's cock was far beyond shit dreams, shit would suffer whatever not to wake up.

# 1

rose's cum tasted metallic, but shit swallowed it, and used the time while rose lighted another joint, to swallow shit spit, comparing…

rose is watching…

Riki at the entrance

RIKI returns to IASON's penthouse. everyone in the lobby stares at him, but he doesn't care.

[in the lift]

[at a party]

in the meantime, IASON is conducting a business negotiation with a mindwiped KILLIE as one of the bargaining chips.

# 2

…rose's probing fingers check out shit ass…

…shit nods cock in mouth, tears streaming, rose lets shit smoke shit, all shit wants is that now should never end. rose comes into shit mouth, shit doesn't dare to stop sucking, until rose raps shit head

rose pulls out and forgets about shit. fast backwards the video, to watch what he missed, when…

kilkenny cat

a dealer's furniture, speeds into the room on speed, pointing a large bore at rose's face, rose laughs it off, saying

5:30 a.m. the lost pup

shit returned late early morning in catatonic comatic apathy to the fucktory in uproar. there was violence in the air, like in shit favorite alte frauen™'s song…

the lost pup came home too early episode of the bible. parental advice is like that biblical bird's beak sharpened on the mountain of teenage offspring's thickness, nothing is lost, the law of enthalpy, only that the parental beak will not last long enough.

5:45 a.m. hit and shout

there was violent shouting and violent beating of shit, regular and irregular questioning. shit was gliding on an oblique plane of stoned happiness towards that sure to arrive moment male and female would tire of shit catatonic comatic apathy and decide between early coffee but the papers haven't yet hit the front door and early fuck and not enough time for post-orgasmic relaxation. while all hell broken loose slowly dies down, shit dreams of a future shit knows must be magic cause iason rose touched shit.

7:45 a.m. get rid of shit

male works hard to keep the fucktory roofed, clad, shod, and fed, female too, not much time left to worry about shit, and if shit wouldn't be the fucking reason of the fucking uproar, male and female's sole worry would have been to get shit out of bed and into the tc prison bus, or send shit to a career advisor, or any other above the board taker. hard to find, shit takers for free.

shit sits down at the breakfast bar, slowly finding in a dusty corner of emo intelligence the appropriate tear-streaked rueful face, "you don't understand! you don't understand!" but doesn't say it, gets with slow, tired, dinosaur movements a pack of crack™ sports breakfast from the fridge and eats morosely, ready to complain about headache…

…answers make matters worse. take tc bag and leave like a disgusted, misunderstood, dutiful good-pup resigned to serve time as a pedophile academic clown's captive audience sive educational guinea pig…

shit in town

…but instead shit hits a music store and hides shitself at the end of the row between fat earphones, not even taking the pain to deliberate what to steal, just drifting through time with closed eyes, looking for sales mongrel to befriend, who'll let it stay as long as it listens to the far-out stuff the guy steals for himself.

shit has an early lunch in the…

heart & hub of the puppie hustler industry

there is loud music, there are countless same age, same sex, same problem, same protective armor grin pups, acting stoned and scoring for a joint at the same time, good-pups trying hard to look like bad-pups, dreaming that a limo would stop, a blondie step out and say…

but though > 100 pups dream the dream full force like pro faith healers in the hoffnung™ mary baker eddy finals, no limo stops.

there is loud music…

sticky fingers

shit understood only about three words…

which was enough vet's hyosciamine™ to kill a horse, cheap stuff used to pacify slaughterhouse cattle during transport, nothing better to let you drift through tc…

shit felt it was all about shit, about rose (or mick if it couldn't be rose) loving shit…

shit came by shitself hearing mick jagger sing…

to mick jagger (a postcard)

a discussion of music, drugs, and sex

a heavy green rich smell led shit to sit opposite an urchin too stoned to care with whom he shared his joint, which was the real stuff, in no time shit was the happiest pup in the place, the hundred shitless pups swimming around shit like goldfish in an aquarium. shit had a vision of a fucking textbook page…

…shit immediately recognized the truth and felt a strong urge to scribble about rose…

what shit knows about literature

shit believes it knows how to produce shit about rose cause rose is the number one singer in the universe, this part, as far as shit can see, and must be made into a movie. so far rose was showcased on tcc™ by nerd journalist, who think it's all there in rose's songs, like in…

cold and all alone

a song of which nobody ever grasped the words and much less the meaning, case there is, cause the roses played it like the beach boys on speed in a spider speeding down highway 46.

on roses, lyrics katze / music iason rose.

black & decker™

on black roses but live it became black pecker…

banana fish : corny cornish

shape-shifter

cold and all alone (cont'd)

suddenly shit felt cold, the joint pup had left and though shit still was under the influence the influence wasn't enough not to feel cold and all alone. shit stared at the hopelessly horny pups in their early afternoon banana split feeding frenzy, and understood sitting here wouldn't lead anywhere.

strategy

rose wasn't going to waste sleep about shit. male and female weren't going to help shit. sibling was the special branch, no help either. shit had to fight for shitself.

does rose love, or like shit?

no, never, don't even think of it

has shit the kind of tight ass rose likes?

shit really tried hard to suck well. shit wanted to swallow the whole 10" of rose's cock, why didn't they show a fucking cross-section of a throat in tc?

why didn't shit ask?

shit didn't know shit didn't know.

shit facts i

rose facts i

the truth

shit hopes the truth is, or it could be close to the truth, that if rose wouldn't have enjoyed getting sucked by shit, rose wouldn't have let shit sleep next to him.

rose facts ii

shit stoned mind tried to talk reason to shit in shit stoned mind, what shit knows about rose from tcc™…

• dilapidated perspex™™ incubator
• trust mansion run by sadist closet lesbians
• renegade apex

should shit tell shit…

no!

shit wouldn't understand, cause shit has no brain.

conclusion

…shit left the blue fish to sit in the sun on a park bench, smoking a cigarette as if it would be a joint, dreaming of…

midas street

RIKKI is picking pockets. IASON sees him doing it.

IASON turns to leave. RIKKI goes after him.

high-class tanagura (west) love hotel

IASON strips RIKKI and jerks him off.

delusion

shit put shitself into the story, waiting for rose to sit next to shit and say

angst

shit was afraid that the age to be a pet would pass and instead of being rose's pet shit would get groomed for fucktory life, saving ¥¥¥ for a decent funeral, the kind of life you would hardly miss if you wouldn't have lived it.

so close and oh! so far away!

shit sits in the bath tub dreaming, listening to whatever fell into shit pockets in the music store, wanking, worrying about water entering shit balls if shit comes underwater. standing naked in the tub, shit wiped the damp mirror to stare at shit idiot pupface. another question baffling science:

shit tried to remember what shit should have learnt in tc…

scoring technology

the received standard practice is

advanced scoring technology

under most circumstances the received standard practice guarantees predictable results but for maximum impact the following formula should be used.

to become a murderous sadist's pet, shit has to turn into a murderous sadist's ideal punching pet. which shit wanted, which shit did.

chain sequence

RIKI is chained to an iron bed and masturbates for IASON's viewing pleasure.

IASON rapes him.

shit dream

shit fell a-dreaming, hands-on…

on the floor of rose's room

SHIT is chained and cuffed and gagged and blindfolded and ready for ROSE to fuck SHIT.

what's going on, shit?

shit is talking to rose in shit brain, explaining, imagining shit to wear a pet collar…

why are you spitting into your hand, shit?

what does shit know about pets?

what does shit think this means?

a beautiful blondie, sort of cinderella's prince…

…or snow white's in a skin tight white prince spandex™ suit would tell shit…

and shit would answer…

upon which the blondie would throw shit onto a four poster bed in the ludwig tower suite of royal romantic resorts™ neuschwanstein castle replica hotel, wildly kissing shit, split shit ass with his double galactic stud cock, making such hot love to shit that neither the blondie nor shit would ever want to stop.

re: last night

u'll not b sorry 2 own shit… shit'll do evry thing 4 u… shit tox 0 shit, plz giv shit 1 chance! shit'll per4m…!

shit wrote all this with a rose color felt tip pen on pup love™ letter paper and put it into an envelope on which shit wrote

the stars that play with l.s.d.

in rose's room (cont'd)

the furniture instructs shit how to heel properly, cuts shit hair to make shit please rose, caressing shit shoulders and stuff, understanding, joking. ***s coming in going out make fun of shit. shit is crying, tears streaming down shit face, ***s laughing, touching too, caressing shit body, repeating the question. shit follows the furniture like on a leash…

whole body feeling forward to get fucked by rose

backstage

the furniture tags a stage pass with an alligator clamp to shit t, intentionally and smilingly catching the soft virgin nipple below, pain nearly killing shit, smiling, accepting, welcoming the pain, every movement causes new pain. shit grins to show that shit is ok, and grinning the pain becomes ok. the pain makes shit real, connects shit to rose, cause shit is suffering for rose, the pain is rose's love for shit.

the furniture cares for shit, hands shit stout. ace performance, shit and the furniture dance behind the wall of speakers, the stage is enormous in the light system light, rose goes berserk on stage, every time he passes shit running off or on stage he punches shit stomach real hard…

…the pain lasts half the number, shit looks forward to be singled out again, ready to die for rose while monumental sheets of rose's voice sliver across solid waves of bass and riffs and organ stairs of keyboards. the sound becomes shit, if shit makes it as rose's pet shit would be real!

shit can see nothing beyond the stage, the glare cuts off the raging hysteria. to be here and not there, shit doesn't want to wake up!

following the furniture in a state of thoughtless present tense staggering towards rose who knocks shit out, kicks shit body, ass, back, thighs, aiming pointed boots at muscles to cause more pain, kicking shit neck, stomach, arms, painfully, making shit heel and lick his boot, stomps shit face. though happy as shit, shit can't get up without help by the furniture. finally the furniture shoves shit into rose's room

saying

in rose's room (cont'd)

shit feels like it fell into a garbage shredder. shit heels again, rose caresses shit shaved head

shit smiles, kind of, split lips painful and bleeding, pain like broken ribs, no strength left, getting up and out of trousers feels worse than getting kicked felt, to bend over to open boot strings kills shit

# 3

once shit is naked rose punches shit face and body, until shit is floored again. rose kicks shit balls, ass, kidneys, balls. rose slaps shit until shit face is only pain and blood and tears, then fucks shit mouth like shit is an inanimate object, like to fuck shit for good.

shit wants to die for rose but in between, suddenly no air, knowing that blondies don't care, shit tries to pull back.

rose slaps shit so hard that shit obeys automatically. rose throws shit on the bed…

# 4

…fucks shit on the back knees pushed up, slapping shit face, knuckling shit head, strangling shit. the pain means to belong to rose. shit feels like in an endless accident, shit wants to lick rose hands, to kiss rose. finally rose comes, strangling shit, kissing shit

and falls asleep. rose's arm around shit. shit feels like shitting, but shit doesn't dare to move, not to disturb rose's sleep.

to be close to rose is all shit ever wanted, now shit will rather get torn to shreds than give it up again. shit didn't dare think what it wanted to think, what shit brain said, what felt like go smash your brain out before it ends…

all night shit heart went…

doki doki

…shit brain ran amuck…

…shit had to get through no matter how much it hurt! and with rose, the greatest of them all! years shit had dreamed at night of a blondie like rose, or in fact rose, to belong to, not possible to talk about it with anybody, how could shit think about it!

all night

has shit made it cause shit had learned all about rose, pets and furnitures, and sync from tcc™? cause shit knows ank by heart, every single word shiozawa kaneto and seki toshihiko say

if only rose would kill shit! to die before shit gets kicked out!

all morning

naked next to naked rose, until rose woke up and said

shit heeled immediately as shit had been told to by the furniture

shit gently chewed rose's balls

shit licked rose's half-hard cock

shit began to suck rose's cock

shit tried to deep-throat., who cares whether shit was about to vomit!

rose hit shit head nose lips stomach kidneys balls with knuckles and fists, squeezed shit balls until shit was ready to die for rose, tears of pain

a *** came into the room

rose got up and left with the ***.

alone

if only shit pleased rose!

shit wasn't sure what was expected of it. it cleaned up the mess in the room, shit didn't know whether it was allowed to dress or not, but room service was about to knock the door in, and considering shit barely double figure age shit thought advisable to dress and show a business face.

room service

was a charming fuckmutt, lips which spelled blowjob, and a smile that put shit at ease. shit helped room service, and suddenly in the bath cell the door closed and shit was pushed against it and kissed, kissed more places than it had known possible to kiss, room service was a pro, and t-shirt pushed up and pants pulled down, like never before in shit life, like in a wonderful sex dream.

doesn't shit know that pets are supposed to give blowjobs?

yes, shit knew, theoretically, but behind shit the door was closed, in front of shit room service was kneeling, and shit cock was between room service sharp fox fangs, there was no other exit.

# 5

also shit wanted to learn, and room service had a lot to teach. increasing tension weakened shit body and a sublime pain until shit came and swooned onto room service. room service deposited shit onto the bed and vanished after finishing the job with delicious french kisses tasting of fresh cum.

what is wrong with shit brain?

shit was in tc. the teacher hated shit and stared at shit. was it shit fault that teach didn't have the guts to fuck shit? shit felt like sliding off the chair, closing eyes. in front of shit sat a lookalike blondie youngster who never got his act together. broad shoulders, strong neck, sexy slim hips, crotch stuffed like a real blondie and about as fuckable. why did shit always happen to get sent places where the fuckmutts look ugly and the beauties don't fuck?

the phone rang

it was rose

shit undressed, kneeled, ready to heel but rose didn't show up for hours, shit lay down on the floor, sideways, knees pulled up, arranged shit cock comfortably between shit thighs, shit felt cold, to suffer for rose felt good, to please rose. finally shit fell asleep…

the mask

a huge empty grand hotel in czechoslovakia

SHIT is in a bar with a dance floor, on the top floor of the hotel, open to the atrium lobby of the hotel. SHIT is the only guest.

from behind the bar BAR GIRL is watching SHIT.

SHIT feels BAR GIRL wants to warn SHIT that SHIT should not waste so much money for a glass of water.

probably a lot for BAR GIRL.

BAR GIRL fills a glass with a water-like liquid.

SHIT drinks. the liquid smells and tastes nearly like water, but it can't be water, SHIT thinks it must be a kind of vodka. SHIT begins to feel quite elated.

BAR GIRL lets SHIT chose from the three records BAR GIRL has.

SHIT selects a motown greatest hits. SHIT begins to dance.

BOY AGENT with rain coat and hat approaches SHIT.

when BOY AGENT gets close SHIT sees that BOY AGENT is wearing a black leather mask

BOY AGENT lifts his mask.

SHIT sees a young face with fair skin, light blue eyes, blond hair. SHIT goes on dancing.

more SECRET SERVICE BOYS join SHIT and BOY AGENT. all dance.

BOY AGENT jumps on the railing towards the courtyard, then walks on a ledge on the outside of the railing

SHIT leaves

shit hotel room

BOY AGENT follows SHIT into SHIT room.

SHIT doesn't know whether the question is secret service probing or concerns BOY AGENT himself. SHIT pulls BOY AGENT to shitself and kisses BOY AGENT aggressively while shit hands are opening boy agent's shirt and taking possession of boy agent's tough, slim body.

alcheringa

awaking shit feels the lips and the taut body of the young agent kissing and embracing shit. shit knows that to love him shit has to be ready to kill, to get killed for boy agent, or by him. shit is ready, but boy agent has gone leaving behind nothing but the touch of his youthfully trembling washboard abs on shit fingers.

waking up

…rose's boot hit shit kidneys, ass, shoulders, neck, head, shit kneeled and heeled but rose didn't stop kicking it, turned shit with a boot onto shit back and stomped shit face, tears, blood and snot all over the face.

it was a pet collar! shit licked rose's boots but rose didn't put the collar on, just opened it and rested it on shit neck, pressed the remote. total wipe out. rose pressed it again, but the collar fell off, hitting only half, still the pain was like nothing shit had ever felt before.

what was it like?

shit wasn't able to breath for a minute, the pain was like the sting of a giant black widow poison spider.

pain (cont'd)

shit heeled and licked rose's boots fighting against that this was mad, that rose was mad, to give up, if at least rose would tie shit up! to kneel and expect the pain, free to run away, was the worst.

rose pulled the trigger until shit would have been gladly thrown in front of a tart™ train, shit couldn't imagine worse pain.

did shit try?

no.

is there?

yes, pet rings kick the coiled kundalini like nothing else… (see below).

# 6

rose pulled shit onto the bed and kissed shit and fucked shit. shit didn't feel anything, couldn't stop the tears. shit didn't know whether the pain was ebbing or not, if this was what being a pet meant, shit had to eat it.

when rose came he strangled shit until shit passed out. rose fell next to shit, kissed shit and pulled shit into his arms

shit felt born again! like breaking through to the other side! what does pain mean? seconds later the worst is over. shit kissed and licked rose's nipples, crying happy, the pain rolling through shit body, shit fell asleep and dreamed of the lord of roses, rose with a wild mane of roses in a dark night of roses, no shit!

a song of shit on probe

travel arrangements

rose handed shit a tour bus pass

(fucktory will not remark anything until afterwards.)

travel arrangements (cont'd)

shit dreamed that rose would get a special black case made for shit, to transport shit, locked cage style, to be let out only to satisfy rose. a tightly upholstered and lightproof coffin-like case to spend shit time in absolute darkness, to be a thing for rose. (rose knows nothing about this, has no intention to spend ¥¥¥ for shit.)

shit pet

one week shit was on probe. finally rose opened the doors and katze and the rest of the roses shouted…

…as pet collar and pet ring clicked closed

if only rose would have killed pet! but rose just pressed the remote couple of times to remind pet that

pain

nobody should talk about it who hasn't felt it, shit means pet collar pet ring pain. about getting used to the pain, there is no getting used to this pain. could as well tell a waste mongrel led aside to get shot…

this pain was invented to freeze gun-in-hand hardened criminals for several minutes, 250 lbs. of aggressive bovine mass, not a shit like pet. pet tried hard to learn not to drop onto the street and wallow in dog shit every time rose triggered the collar, but the pain is such, difficult enough not to piss all over shitself, pet could only throw shitself on the floor in front of rose and wash rose's boots with pet tears and snot, clinging to rose's boots with both hands, every thought stopped by the pain. rose liked to see pet flopping around on the floor like a pest who touched the live wire fence of an aso club, for rose the pet control remote was a fucking arcade game.

more pain

the pet ring is a different story altogether, same pain, different place, better don't try! for the next about 36 hours your pet will be about as useful as a wild dog run over by a street train, can't get up without ***s helping left and right, legs folding in, complete loss of control over body functions (shit, piss, vomit), if you like to fuck a corpse, push that button! genpub will call 800-scavenge, check that ***s are at hand to drag your pet into a limo!

fucking pain

the idea is to push the button while fucking the pet, but even on low it hits through half the time and fries the owner and makes the pet laugh, kind of, considered that the pet gets fried first. forget about getting sucked any better than by a sex doll with low batteries, it's a virtual wipe out.

pet life

no blondie keeps secrets from his pet, is the pet going to sync about it? just for the kicks of having pet balls fried?

pet was closer to rose than anybody else in this universe. only pets know what pet life is like, no words will render the peaks of orgasms and the trenches of pain, suicide circle stuff!

fucktory were surprised by pet holding a job for more than a week, great savings on shrinks. relieved that pet had found it's bearings (which were towards a humane overdose ending the pain). the answer to all questions was

maybe

pet would live to tell of the charmed, limoed, suited, drugged life among hard core entertainment industry types.

maybe not

cub camp had been different, wasn't rose supposed to tie pet with a piece of rope, rip off pet t-shirt, pull down pet jeans, shove pet knees up and fuck pet painfully hard, then kiss the lovely crying pup?

why didn't rose take pet to a beach to fuck in the moonlit surf?

rose hated the sun, hated beaches, hated sports, hated trainers and sneakers, swimming pools, fitness, health food. health made rose sick (at least it did while rose felt good).

did rose consume drugs?

rose considered food a drug supplement.

meanwhile at the fucktory…

did rose incite pet to consume drugs?

no, rose fed his pet what he consumed himself, which was only the best stuff. for every problem rose knew the right pill. pet had learnt that to consume large quantities of drugs and subsequently loll round stoned in hotel lobbies and nightclub toilets was the hall mark of the elite (as in fact it is). also pet hoped that large quantities of drugs would help it to withstand more pain.

what effects did these drugs produce on pet?

relaxation of the asshole, general numbness, apathy, acceptance of high levels of abuse and pain, lack of focus, nodding during sex. rose liked cocktails of drugs which caused pet to pass out.

long-term drug use and sexual gratification beyond personal demand level changed pet. pet felt cool to be a barely two figures age fucked and stoned pet.

social shit

the roses, their pets and furnitures were like a big family which enjoyed to see rose frying pet balls, there was teasing, body contact, groping and heavy petting, half-serious rape dissolving in post-orgasmic laughter. after years of hell in fucktory where abstract expectations could not be satisfied, suddenly pet could not fail. for rose every mistake pet made was a welcome occasion to punish pet. the beating, whipping, kicking pain came over pet like a slowly breaking giant wave of pain wiping out pet while it got fucked until pet bled and strangled until it passed out and knuckled until it cried and knifed until the whole bed sheets looked like a slaughterhouse floor and kissed until pet hoped for the sudden final snuffing pain and ecstasy.

the algebra of need

rose did most of the talking with his boots, for rose the whole point of having a pet was to have a thing to fuck and torture. pet was a torture toy, if pet didn't suffer, rose didn't get hard. rose liked to see pet flap around on the floor like a chicken not yet used to have lost its head. but pet never felt bored, to lie next to rose, to suck rose's cock, lick his boots was enough for pet.

did rose love pet?

due to the intense pressure of tour life and extensive drug use rose too passed out quite often, or quasi passed out with his head in pet lap. cause rose couldn't care less about master x pet shit, android x mongrel shit, separate but equal shit.

how did pet perceive the roses' tour group?

pet felt it belonged full stop. in the tour bus katze pushed pet onto a seat, grab pet cock and said

while a backseat joker would recite

katze did with pet what it liked, pets have no choice, and it felt good, rose didn't mind, furnitures don't count.

who is katze?

properly speaking katze was rose's furniture but katze held a kind of power over rose due to having been rose's first pet. katze came on like it just got caught wanking by a teach…

…katze knew all about the sound system, at sound check katze was in command, bossing the engineers. they may have known…

katze the furniture

but offend katze and you offend rose. say…

…and rose's brows begin to crease, say…

…with a say no more! smile, and rose's gets a killer mood. complain about katze and rose stares at you like…

…them complain about katze?

katze the furniture (cont'd)

for katze the lord of the roses is real. katze's got style, shy, polite, and not shy at all, if necessary. if necessary, master of the deadly put down and of sync, all pet learnt it learnt from katze (and room service). katze liked pet and liked to joke with pet, and looked after pet if rose was not present, telling pet…

the life of rose

pet on acid

katze had enough lsd to cure both houses. feeding pet the first trip, rose said

what is it about?

and turned onto the stomach, catching the raft of rose's bed, not to fall off the edge of the place, not to slide into outer space. around pet the universe opened up and pet fell through the space between molecules, between atoms, between smaller and smaller particles, aiming at them but they too opened up and revealed themselves to be whole universes, the biggest fall of all.

when pet came to, katze was there, beating lightly a mandrum made of genuine mongrel skin with a genuine mongrel shin bone, a gift from an android roses' fan. it was late afternoon, the door to the porch was open. soft light and the gentle early evening sounds of birds, leaves outside, holy indians knowing. pet found the flute, played what the fingers chose, in time with katze. to love rose, to be rose's pet, seemed right. rose was a beautiful young android living a life of serene rightness, pure beauty. to love rose was eternal love. pet thought…

…love was rose and rose was roses and the whole world was covered with roses, the walls of the room, whatever pet looked at, katze's body too, pet skin too, was covered with roses, the air was full of tiny red rose buds, and pet knew that in each rose there was…

the tour poster

it was the pattern of the universe. if you understood, nothing could happen. katze put the stones on for pet, to try how they sound on acid, which mixed with the sounds coming in from the porch, car sounds, crate unloading, truck doors smashing.

pet forced shitself to listen to the stones, the song was perfect, though it was that hateful honky tonk track, the floor was taking off with pet, bucking, difficult to crawl up to katze, to gulp stout, pet bit into an offered burger but forgot, seeing the structure of the molecules of the muffin, there was too much to watch, chewing too much of hard work.

in a gadda da vida

in the garden each leave was magical, if katze wouldn't have dragged pet along, pet would have forgotten all, watching the sun go down. sitting next to katze on a bench pet saw a universe inside every cell of the body, the reflection of the sinking sun in each atom of each of them. perfect beauty, perfect love, difficult to keep upright, pet began to slide down onto the bench, towards katze, for katze to hold.

pet told katze, slowly forming words, looking for their meaning in far away corners of the brain, forgotten and funny meanings, laughable, that one word has a different meaning from another, and like by chance this, not that, it was funny, to chew the words between the swollen lips, as if vowels and consonants had become jaw exercises. pet entrusted the body to katze, katze loved pet, katze holding it in the dusk, katze told pet…

…katze kissed pet, and it felt right that katze should suck pet in the garden, nothing could happen, katze was rose's furniture, ready

to die for rose

rose hit pet, pet heard the sound of rose's fist on head and body, felt the kicking of hard bull skin into soft pet skin, what is pain? a message from the body to the brain, telling what body thinks brain should know, pointed boot hitting lower belly.

# 7

rose fucked pet, rose's cock in pet ass was a round blue pain developing into a yellow pointed tension, the pissing spurts of rose's cum, pet cum smelling clean like squashed greenish flowers, pet fell asleep with rose's cock still inside pet ass.

sleeping pet was gliding through the lighted night of the universe, it was alright, rose's beautiful pet sailing through time, loving and belonging. iason x rikki, iason x rikki, iason x rikki!

sync

drugs take all effort out of talking sync. pet talked sync, what outsiders didn't understand kept them from asking. makes the midas folk shy to bother those who live in tanagura's glittering palaces, marketing and production stumbled over pet naked body in rose's suite as if pet were a large dog, acting not impressed first, then getting used to pet, considered pet part of the package.

praying

the prayer pet prayed was first and foremost…

…to love like iason x rikki was the ultimate pet ambition.

cause of the acid pet thought about mother mary, cause it kind of felt nice to pray inside and feel good about how she is going to take care of pet. course pet knew nobody's going to take care of pet, least of all mother mary, least of all rose. still it was nice to pray

it felt good and it is difficult to stop praying once you start. pet spent several light-years staring at a postcard a mad pup had sent rose, with a picture of miraculous mother mary. pet doesn't care to tell anybody, everybody gonna laugh cause pet is dumb.

still pet understood mothers have mothers have mothers, and it's like they all glide out of each other's wombs from the first beginning until right here and now!

on stage

a pet is a pet and gets treated like a pet, which didn't include too much petting and pampering in rose's case. for rose a pet was a punching pup, to relieve the tension before, between and after the sets. rose punched pet, and when pet dropped on the floor, rose kicked pet.

in bed

rose hated if pet wasn't crying and trying to protect face, kidneys and balls and punished pet for trying to protect face, kidneys and balls, cause a pet has to offer shitself to the master's kicks. rose had to see deadly fear in pet eyes to come. pet didn't care, pet knew, rose would strangle it until it went out, and only when rose felt that pet was gone, rose came into the unconscious pet, but who cared about pet? not even pet cared for pet, let rose put the remote on repeat, let him fuck his pet for good!

room service (cont'd)

what better fun than to see room service's face when pet opens the door naked to let in 800-amoi-fuck and when pet hands room service a tip, that last glance when the door closes, pet inside, room service outside (room service in his mind sucking pet once more while the lift numbers down towards the lobby, and pet mixing the memory of room service sucking with the slipping down of tight jeans over the firm fuckmutt ass, the half-shame half-pride of a male pro magazine™ centerfold rent mongrel.

tricks and trade make tcc™ fade

pet relaxes and watches from the sofa, grinning, enjoying the throat gagging action, far too stoned to care. like a joke far away beyond a see of carpet and clothes on the floor and dropped shopping bags and a half-dismantled yamaha™ keyboard and marshalls™ and stuff, rose turns a fuckmutt which undressed revealing not without self-satisfaction class "a" equivalent ass and cock into a crying bleeding urchin slivering over the rough hotel room carpet trying to avoid rose's kicks.

pet watches the action like a faraway joke, like the pain and fear is not real, like the fuckmutt is onscreen where you see the same monster cocked mongrel getting snuffed episode after episode. only that rose wrestling the fuckmutt down, beating and slapping it and rapping the bleeding fuckmutt head with his knuckles and strangling it, is real.

pet can see that panic gets the better of the pup and it freaks out, what with all usual pills, and shit, and stout, and tries to get up and split. like pet 800-amoi-fuck must have been dreaming of rose from before the first droplet of cum spurtled out of it, that a blondie, rose!, would put a pet collar on it, fuck it hard, and kiss it like nobody ever kissed it before, case anybody ever kissed it before long after the first painful dry fuck. pet remembers the hardon thoughts it had wanking in slow motion in indoc, the overwhelming boredom in the candle-lit halfdark changing the tamperer's voice, the organ music, the senseless backward stumbling sounds of the choir into the one hardon feeling, the one slowly growing hardon pain of afraid to come and stains showing and unable to resist the wish to come and the wish to lay down on an indoc bench and wank and come for good, but there was always an idiot, or two idiots or three idiots who thought pet wanking in indoc was the one most funny thing ever happening to them, which probably was the truth though they didn't realize it at the time… and pet would stop and with closed eyes dream of rose in a dim hotel room fucking pet, but it would also be like it was now, that pet watching rose fucking another fuckmutt. there would be the words fucking and stout and shit and all the names of the drugs talked about in tc which not to know felt like not getting fucked, not living.

like the fuckmutt pet never thought that it'll be on the floor, crying, and rose'll go on kicking, aiming at where it hurts most, cause to come rose needs to rape a fighting back, desperately struggling pup, strangling it until it passes out, then fuck the unconscious body.

pet knew what it saw was real, but it had lived through this kind of near-deadly action so many times, that now, and after filling up on stout on ice, feeling how in the warmth of the stomach the stuff unfolded like pure ether, though pet tried to understand what was going on, the sound of…

hoochie koochie man

…pulled pet away into the changing colors, the flaming darkness of different and new sounds, standing still and racing away, dancing through rainbows, cathedrals and organs and castles of sound changing into deserts and seas and endless plains… was pet falling asleep? pet must have been nodding for sure.

money

rose was slapping the pup back to life. then there were the post-fuck shitting sounds from below the bath cell door.

tax free

when the now no more in mint condition fuckmutt tried to find, and pick up and pull on the jeans from the stuff on the floor rose looked at pet and said words which didn't reach pet ears but probably invited to have a go at the fuckmutt but all pet wanted was to smoke a last fat joint with rose and then pass out spooned to rose's back dreaming of never waking up.

goodbye

finally the sore headed, sore bodied, sore assed ¥¥¥ in hand…

…good bye

snarling at pet

shaking a hurting head at pet, knowing what 800-amoi-fuck had always known…

…the roses are a bunch of fucking pervert drug-addicted bastards.

on tour

touring means traveling without seeing anything. to give the full feeling that the world is a black tunnel with an invisible h cooking candle strength light far away around the corner, all rooms, cars, planes, stages, room service, tricks and trade look the same, until you fall apart and are no more able to scan the pages of figures management hopes you won't look at, and the contracts, and summaries of contracts, all made up to hide the fact that you're the cattle on their farm.

most of the rooms have this fucking rough carpet which bruises pet skin when pet gets kicked or dragged around on it, and thinly upholstered headboards pet head gets banged against when rose fucks pet, and the occasional junior suites have jacuzzis which provide the drowning fun a tired rose needs to get hard.

life is a dream (sort of)

sex, drugs, ¥¥¥…

…management (first saturn, later jupiter) would come into the room early afternoon, to tell rose the program, and not even stare anymore at naked pet.

pet would smile and turn the collar round to have the number z-107m in front.

the fashion is changing and we're changing with it

the endless dark drugged tunnel of touring gave way to the equally dark world of recording studios and night clubs where rose enjoyed to be rose, number one dragnet of the world. cruising to make your head spin, pet and katze danced with…

…he-pups and she-pups, until daylight. if iason's door was closed pet dropped into katze bed syncing to hide the pain…

pet slept spooned to katze as peacefully as the drugs of the day allowed.

what is the furnitures' comforting secret?

katze didn't have the balls to tell.

next question?

full dragnet nights excepted pet spent twenty-four hours licking rose's boots, sort of. of whom should pet dream in iason rose's bed? can you dream of the ocean while you're swimming in it? the magic name iason rose put a spell on male and female too, iason rose's stage ass, shit had landed a dream job! they thought pets carry shit round, stand there with a towel and a stout, to wipe rose's face. in fact pet waited for rose to wipe the floor with pet.

what was best?

best was when rose was too sick to perform, rose was always sick, but every problem has its pill, until cuts don't heal, and the blood has no fucking pressure, and the heart freaks out if rose so much as got up from the toilet seat. here comes the tour doctor, glad as a lawyer to help a star in need. all iason needed was a week rest, proper food, a good walk, no pills, no drugs, no stout. projected cost negative. instead fly to a fucking clinic in daars, never leave the building, iason has his blood washed and oxygenated, his heart taken out, checked, and replaced with another piece of black granite, and is made to swallow more pills than ever before.

room 23

still it was the most beautiful time, rose in bed, bored and hot as hell, horny like iason rose in hospital, nurses and doctors running in and out of the room like room service on speed. they made him sign so many bills, worse than meet iason rose hour in a fucking dept. store.

iason was hot and bored as hell, and the fucking doctors and nurses kept him from fucking, how can you kick your pet's ass if you got an oxygen tube in your nose, another two tubes in your arms run your blood through a fucking ichord™ blood washer, wear a bare-assed pajama like a fuckee clown, and a nurse is tinkering with your pecker (painted nails scratching your foreskin) and a piss bottle? how can you push the remote of your pet's collar or, worse, pet ring, if there is a nurse extracting blood from your middle finger

and you're holding shit hand cause you're fraid. shit holding hand, kissing forehead, feeding food, changing channels, iason in hospital, shit in paradise.

(and for the fucking bill!)

spare parts

the doctors tried to sell iason on the idea to get one of his kidney replaced, and he'd loved to have shit cut up, and shit would have loved to get cut up for iason, but shit has shit blood, what a downer! iason would have liked to see shit body slashed open, shit kidney ripped out, a wad of roses tour t-shirts stuffed in, and shit stitched up just for kicks, but these doctors were medically qualified johnsons, they'd never cut up a pup and stitch it together again just to please an evil wealthy customer, except for ¥¥¥…

…but when iason shared with them…

encouraging them to rip shit open and hold a fucking boot sale, selling shit organs to the highest bidder, or just kick them around on the plastic floor of the operation theatre, like rose and friends used to have fun kicking around waste mongrel organs in tanagura high…

…but when iason shared with them… (cont'd)

encouraging them to…

the good-puppie faced va surgeons failed to visualize immediately the income stream this would generate. instead they exchanged knowing newlywed glances, looking forward to tell the person in their lifelettes about the interesting kinks of the interesting persons they meet.

lateral fucking

shit knew what iason needed and at night paid the amoi he-nurse with its body to keep the signature hunting doctors at bay, and sucked iason for all shit was worth. no need to talk, shit knew what iason liked, and spent the night on iason's bed, next to iason, iason's cock in shit mouth.

i ging

iason's personal i ging consultant threw three coins and discovered that the fleecing iason had got in that clinic wasn't what rose needed, so good-by vitamins and oxygen tubes, hello i ging and feng-shui. bored stiff by the gyromancy of a hilton™ junior suite, pet watched an introduction to the i ging and got it explained by rose who hadn't seen a second of it.

chien

the roses' tour bus anthem chorus said…

the last tour had been great (as everything was, is and will ever be in tanagura hills, great postmortem, great funeral face job, great flowers, great music, great sharing, great burial plot, great kaddish, great reception at tophet gate, great food, great powder room fun) and sales were great but not overwhelmingly so. general expenses, drugs, planes, accountants, legal counsels, expert creeps amounted to more than what came in, the roses were broke. the hundred thousand they earned every month were not enough to feed the five of them and keep them stoned.

the golden rule

back to the roots!

which were on the street, in drug dealing. almost straight business had cheated the roses, now they would cheat too. the cunning plan was to make one big deal and invest it into the new tour, and play straight again.

pet heard a lot and was told nothing. rose had done it before, and maybe amoi wasn't amoi, once all #'s who come with ¥¥¥ and leave with ¥¥¥ had left…

…the roses felt alive again, rose would fly to amoi or such a place to clinch the deal, pet was to stay grounded with katze until rose's return. in case rose or anybody would have cared to listen, pet would have told them that it was a shit plan.

the roses tour bus anthem chorus said… (cont'd)

first day

…was ok. first night, watching…

Rikki's flat

RIKKI comes out of the shower, IASON is waiting for him.

IASON catches hold of him.

they kiss.

they make out.

masturbation

shit jerked off exactly as shit likes to jerk off, sprawled naked on the bed…

…until cum spurted onto shit face.

Katze's car

katze is waiting in the car outside for iason.

2^nd day

was worse. bored stiff, late at night, not able to find sleep…

it was a shit plan. shit felt horny as hell and worried to death.

shit was rose, without rose there was nothing, falling calendar leaves, fading towards an early grave

shit in town (cont'd)

shit was looking for a # to suck shit, no interest other than that shit didn't want to do it shitself. shit balls guided shit into the…

cantina

star wars I
A film by
george lucas

Starring

r2-d2
and
C-3PO

with ALEC GUINNESS, ANTHONY DANIELS, CARRIE FISHER, DAVID PROWSE, EDDIE BYRNE, HARRISON FORD, JACK PURVIS, KENNY BAKER, MARK HAMILL, PETER CUSHING, PETER MAYHEW

the murky, moldy den is filled with a startling array of weird and exotic alien creatures and monsters at the long metallic bar. one-eyed, thousand-eyed, slimy, furry, scaly, tentacled, and clawed creatures huddle over drinks.

BEN is standing next to CHEWBACCA, an eight-foot-tall, savage-looking creature resembling a huge grey bushbaby monkey with fierce baboon-like fangs. his large blue eyes dominate a fur-covered face and soften his otherwise awesome appearance. over his matted, furry body he wears two chrome bandoliers, and little else. he is a two-hundred-year-old wookiee and a sight to behold.

a large, multiple-eyed creature gives LUKE a rough shove.

a short, grubby human and an even smaller rodent-like beast join the belligerent monstrosity.

old BEN moves in behind LUKE.

with a blood curdling shriek, the monster draws a wicked chrome laser pistol from his belt and levels it at old BEN. the BARTENDER panics.

with astounding agility old BEN's laser sword sparks to life and in a flash an arm lies on the floor.

a creature comes out of the cantina and approaches two STORMTROOPERS in the street.

strange creatures play exotic big band music on odd-looking instruments as LUKE, still giddy, downs a fresh drink and follows BEN and CHEWBACCA to a booth where HAN solo is sitting.

HAN is a tough, roguish starpilot about thirty years old. a mercenary on a starship, he is simple, sentimental, and cocksure.

BEN and LUKE turn around to see four imperial STORMTROOPERS looking at the dead bodies and asking the bartenders some questions.

the BARTENDER points to the booth.

the STORMTROOPERS look over at the booth but LUKE and BEN are gone.

the BARTENDER shrugs his shoulders in puzzlement.

as HAN is about to leave, GREEDO, a slimy green-faced alien with a short trunk-nose, pokes a gun in his side.

HAN sits down and the alien sits across from him holding the gun on him.

HAN solo slowly reaches for his gun under the table.

suddenly the slimy alien disappears in a blinding flash of light.

HAN pulls his smoking gun from beneath the table as the other patrons look on in bemused amazement. HAN gets up and starts out of the cantina, flipping the BARTENDER some coins as he leaves.

shit in town (cont'd)

fifty hunks grinning at themselves in the mirror behind the bar, checking their smile, awful up noise of awful up music, awful up voices, stout breath piss smell.

what gets you down more than fifty #'s desperate to fuck and not fucking? shit felt like shit and worse.

# 8

shit was offered legal stout and sucked in a dark booth by a # wearing a fucking enormous diamond studded rolex© fucktimer©, can't remember anything more about him, big heavy #, sucked shit like an industrial strength vacuum pump.

olvidar es lo mejor!

couple of stramonium™ 100mg's later…

katze is the best

shit dropped into katze's cell, tears streaming down shit face.

but the truth is that shit couldn't remember rose's face or voice or name nor why shit was crying.

katze is the best (cont'd)

took care of shit, defending shit against shithead ***'s which thought for shit to be in love with rose the biggest joke of all…

katze is the best (cont'd)

shit stayed in katze cell, katze bed, listened to dahlia-x's™ forever album, watched b-boy gold™ videos, there was enough shit, stout, pills, shit cookies to stay stoned until rose return. disconnecting with stramonium™ 100mg. shit thought to say…

but katze didn't hurt shit.

katze

shit was drinking stout, smoking shit, listening to the supremes™ curled up against katze face.

maybe rose loved shit, sort of.

katze (cont'd)

loved shit, no sort of, katze loved shit, full stop. katze knew that shit was rose's pet, as katze was rose's furniture, but what do words mean

slowly shit understood, katze had been rose's pet before. rose x katze were the original core of the roses. katze wrote the songs, rose brought the house down, and fucked the public by rows and aisles. the remaining roses were just fillers.

shit understood, to love rose was worse than suicide, and still katze loved rose, and still shit loved rose, longed for rose, to sleep bruised in rose's arms.

was rose that good?

yes. shit was on katze's bed, remembering past fucking, the received opinion

what was wrong with katze?

same shit.

was rose that good? (repeated)

yes. shit was on katze's bed, remembering past fucking, the received opinion

what was wrong with shit?

same shit.

was rose that good? (repeated)

yes. shit was on katze's bed, remembering past fucking, the received opinion

are you getting stuck?

no, shit thought of rose, katze played on a keyboard, shit had a vision of the future, to escape from sc, old rose, old katze, no old shit, but that future was never to come, rose was bound to smash into a concrete wall, to overdose, to go out monitored

waiting for rose

the shit plan wouldn't work, to stay with katze was best…

…katze's cool long hair whipping shit thighs, shit limbs thrown around by , loosing shit mind, never felt anything like it before, came into katze mouth which went on torturing shit, katze was the best.

did katze like it?

why the fuck should katze do it otherwise? shit liked it.

next!

shit kissed katze and slept next to katze. in the morning katze prepared a massive joint, thermal power station stack size which blew shit mind for good.

for good?

fucking yes.

for good!

shit stayed in katze's bed, didn't dress, got a *** to bring shit flute, flute playing frustrated shit, drunk stout, took pills and passed out.

future trouble

telepathic fucktory call, the time was ripe to hit shit with hopes of betterment, featherbedding job in relatives' used office furniture company. katze drove shit, nice hut in nice alley, instant tradition, impressive car port, two new y-cars, shit felt good to be related to prime mud estate.

he-rel, she-rel ready for the rescue, finger food, orange juice

male

since shit didn't have a chance to understand the senseless future chat, shit listened to a ballad it had heard with earphones

fucktory plan

to let shit crawl into their office. shit thought

but kept shut…

…smiling shit listened, chewing great food.

katze sounded the horn, they thought katze was rose, shit didn't undeceive them, jumped into katze's rented convertible, on the highway shit felt the rush of freedom, to have escaped the embalmer's table, the upholstered coffin, the candles and flowers their fast forward button would bring.

identical days following each other, slight hopes turning into modest ambition into moderate success into boredom, ill health and irritating neighbors

office life, shit knew all about it from male who works for 3c™ juice, time stood still and mongrels passed, vs. the excitement of behind the stage life, the disorder of rose's suite, the tour bus orgies…

rather slash your wrists!

Forever

a film by
ratanadilak kamtrakul

PATTON checks in for his late night flight. TRII follows him sadly to the passport control.

PATTON kisses TRII good-bye, goes through customs, then waits in the departure lounge, the plane is delayed.

bangkok guest house

in the small bathroom of their guest house room TRII slashes his veins.

PATTON sees a van gogh sunflowers poster for sale at a duty free shop. PATTON turns away, looking at the rakhi TRII tied to his wrist. he enters the toilets.

pissing PATTON hears the song "forever" (in thai) on the muzak™ system of the restroom. suddenly tears come to his eyes.

PATTON checks back through customs.

Bangkok airport highway

PATTON tells the driver to hurry.

bangkok guest house

PATTON arrives at the cheap hotel, then goes up the stairs two by two. he finds trii's blood in the bath room of their room.

such a nice boy, how could he do such a thing, what a shame!

doctor's house

TRII lies unconscious on an examination table, trousers open and underwear pulled down.

plans

realities

great view riverside cemetery

shit lying naked on the grassy slope getting sucked in mother nature's lap, view to great view riverside cemetery on the other side of the river, anybody there? what good to be buried with a great view? anybody there watching shit getting sucked?

# 9

shit enjoyed the view, but there was only feeling, nothing, katze was the best!

slept twenty minutes, head on katze's stomach, swam naked, smoked, slept again, woke up thirsty and hungry.

marion pizza hut

shit and katze got eyed by heavy weight heat person, entertainment world intruding into square country, katze had to say

to avoid trouble.

sweet marion hustler

on the way back passed through shit home park, katze said

and look! it is daryl, a hot # shit knew in tc, katze drives up to him, calls him, gets him in the car. looks good, talks glue-brained shit

said what?

sex appeal

good-looking # shit would have liked to mess with in tc, now about as hot for him as for a she-mongrel, wouldn't mind to be in bed with him at night, but now (having got sucked twice today), in the afternoon heat to find a place, undress, do it, the interest isn't there.

go know see thy auto!

shared a joint with him, daryl tried hard to impress shit with what he knew about rose, #'s he knew, talked as if he believed everybody else was brain-damaged too. daryl hit katze for ¥¥¥…

…before he left for a date he had with… giving about five different persons times five different purposes…

…plus number of sworn secrets he spelled out immediately.

daryl should be tied down, beaten up, taken off speed for his own good, but that wouldn't work, he would become like the roses' ex-junkie ***s, a slow horse, glad not to have to score, talking about nothing with mad intensity, wanting to be understood but saying nothing.

shit thought how without rose shit might be daryl now, shit watched shit past future leave the car.

"a" pet for sale

rose's absence made horny #'s look up and think, shit is hot, and propose to shit, suit and tie #'s, comparing going down the drain rose with them rising entertainment management types, expecting shit to be for sale, offering shit food and drinks, inviting shit to t hill apartments…

# 10

shit woke up in mister's bed with, who it is a shame to wake up with, who keeps his shopping bags, who says…

looking desperately for brand sex, like shit is a roses™ pet.

mister

katze hated mister's guts, shit is to hazy to hate, shit went with mister for kicks, to watch his suit body antics, to see his capped teeth smile, the dumber shit played, the more entertaining mister became, all shit had to do was lounge in a chair, keep one hand inside shit jeans, play ball, listen with a stoned smile, it drove mister mad.

shit sitting on black leather chair in a dark cold empty afternoon bar, studying shit face in the smoked mirrored wall behind mister's head

hearing

code for sucking, fucking, kissing (which is worst), listening to mister's bullshit (which is even worse), mister got up to piss (taking his cartier™ lighter with him but not the dunhill™ cigarettes, fucking adler™ analyzed asshole) and passing shit touched shit neck, as if shit had already said

but shit wouldn't say it, shit sat there grinning at smoked shit face in the mirror, thinking nothing.

while shit drifted off on stramonium™ 100mg, stout and shit momos, mister talked about his epic entertainment accounting battles with the irs™, his good looks, in case shit couldn't see, how armies of great looking #'s, pro golf house hold names, national league quarterbacks had fucked him…

did he have signature balls?

no, when the chance arose to kiss the hole the great had fucked, shit was distracted by an architectural print framed in birds' eyes maple with an urn inscribed

wondering who had fixed how big a body to how small a cock.

mister talk (cont'd)

…how he had sucked baseball stars twice his height. that only yesterday he had wanked a poster beefcake, body builder model-cum-hustler with a supercock almost too thick to wank with his two chartered entertainment accountant hands taken together.

# 11

while shit body spurted on mister's trousers, shit brain sailed right past, on good stuff.

mister lunch (cont'd)

shit lunched with mister in the la mirage, but when mister begged shit to sit next to him on the bench and jerk him off, shit got disgusted, what a wanker!

mister shopping

shit dropped boots and jeans in the middle of a tana drive store and stood naked, like in a fucking locker room. mister lost his mind and the sales # was on his last legs on his knees in front of shit sprawled on a leather sofa, putting new boots on shit feet and new leather jeans fly open cause shit fingers couldn't close the buttons, salesperson came in his pants doing it (embarrassed and aroused by no™ underwear, shit liked the touch of his fingers and got a hardon seeing how the # strained not to bend down and suck shit cock. there were fitting cells, but shit hates to get sucked against a wall, all you get is getting tired.) mister too was embarrassed and aroused by no™ underwear, mister's and sales #'s fairy voices hopping around like birds' on an apatia patio orange trees.

mister sucking

mister style?

corners of black leather, wood veneer and chrome and mister's black attaché, creases of midnight blue mister suit intersected with floor carpet black rubber insets, window glass, hard corners of a/c outlets.

mister smell?

fresh leather smell of new leather seats.

mister sex? (# 12)

increasing pain in the crotch, feeling of cat tongue on cock, a last needle of pain when shit came, then complete oblivion.

buttoning up sensations doubling and tripling, brass buttons and buttonholes endlessly echoing between fingers and brain, disjointed bullshit syllables mixing with car and traffic sounds. shit passed out in the back of mister's car, boots on the seat (mister promised to drive stoned to death shit to the hotel).

shit dream

mongrel stick hunt

SHIT is a pup. ferocious giant amoi HOUNDS and red-eyed blood-thirsty *** are hunting SHIT cheered on by the cantina mob.

SHIT has no chance.

what is it all about?

shit tries to wake up fully, to get rid of the dream, but waking up remembers real stick-hunts shit saw from the marion tc bus. if only rose would be here!

struggling with the stick hunt dream, shit woke up from nightmare into…

horror (# 13)

not able to move a limb, throat strangled by disembodied killer hands, lay in the dark next to mister's swollen dead pig body reeking of stout, aftershave, smoke, sweat, fart, open shit eyes and see a dark room, dark hostile shutters, straight angles hurting shit eyes, mister asleep with a face red and wrinkled like a stillborn babe. shit tries to get up, trying to get into jeans, socks, boots, t, why did shit have clothes which shit can't put on, and finally, no shit, shit running with clothes in hand, loosing and picking up stuff all the time, naked through hotel corridors, looking for the elevator, believing it's three o'clock at night, but it's eleven in the morning, and an amoi chamber maid is singing like it's a weird bossa nova…

…a fat amoi supervisor with a checklist pad stares at shit. silver haired couples look right through shit…

…punching the wrong floor elevator buttons and shit, until finally shit arrived at katze's door, knocking in panic, pulling on stuff, dropping into the cell, telling the horror and passing out.

what would shit like to dream?

that rose should lock shit up in a full-size upholstered black fiber pet-case, to be kept in utter darkness, without the possibility to move a limb, to belong, to be sold, to be bought by rose for rose's pleasure.

what does shit dream?

waking up shit dreams of getting ¥¥¥…

…of acting, of playing shitself, what a movie it would make, the truth about rose! but shit knew, the truth was exactly the opposite of the truth, the horror wasn't rose, and getting beaten, and drugs, the horror was that rose wasn't here, that rose didn't need shit, that shit was shit was shit, and rose was the lord of the roses. that shit wasn't liked just fucked.

could shit act?

shit didn't know what movie shit was in. shit was acting the dumb hot ass shit was and observing shit acting the dumb hot ass sprawling on a sofa in front of horny mister, hand inside jeans, lips open for a kiss, eyes half closed, passing cause of the pills, watching important mister putting an important armani™ suit's on.

the real horror

was that rose wasn't here. shit had a *** take shit to the drive and barely made it into the gutchi™ store, where without mister paying stoned shit wasn't welcome, but the bills might get paid, or rose might show up, bringing the dead shop to life. shit stared at the painted faces, the anorexic wiggling sales skeletons, the depressed smiles of the managing zombie, lips opening and closing like feeding carps, words shit didn't understand rebounded from the mirrored walls, reversed vibraphone muzak™, air condition waves and street sounds blowing over shit, with every breath shit took it got worse. shit asked for tissues, or thought shit asked, to clean snot nose. the shelves, the goods, the sales hunger bodies all grimacing at shit, shit thought shit was screaming

the sexless manager gesticulated in front of shit, rearranging his fluffy genitals inside his gutchi™ brand unisex underwear, putting shit boots from the sofa on the floor, trying to get shit head up from the armrest

dana bahn

shit looked up and saw death on every face. shit had to get out! shit took the keys from a *** and drove a club courtesy car to the beach and into the sand, stripped and swam, slept on the beach. in the morning a huge lesbian lifeguard stood over shit, saying things against the sound of the waves, seagulls circling above her, lifting shit half up, checking shit pulse, slapping shit slightly, shit hoped she would carry shit to a sunfilled room with rose wallpaper to sleep in a quilted bed, but she talked into a walkie. shit came down from miles above to this spot and this instant in time, to remember painfully the words to say

a # said (# 14)

suicide

shit thought rose was gone and asked katze how to die best. katze said

acid

shit tried to remember what had been the question, questions and answers fading away like mirrors slowly dusting over in a

marrakech dream

what would have been it's name?

generosity

mister had generously filled shit pockets with ¥¥¥…

…which he generously charged to rose's account which shit didn't understand, which rose didn't understand, which katze understood. entertainment generosity comes with its own fine print

superiority

acting the rotten pup all pups looked up to on the drive, shit felt great, or shit was so drugged it had forgotten what shit had drugged shitself to forget for.

though the meaning had been lost, a vague sense of grand superiority remained. wasn't everything alright? shit dropped into the gt hill plaza grill room, feeling so great, and so lost. if only rose were here, or katze, or mister, or anybody to take shit home.

time is my enemy

there are pills to suppress depression but do they work? for hours the sliding out of fingers feeling of the credit card handed to a waiter remained like a cut, slowly giving way to the panic of not knowing whether the waiter had gone seconds, minutes or hours before, and when what felt like another day, the scene changed and a plate was shoved into shit vision, a pen offered, coming down shit remembered that it had to take the paper, that there was an x and space to the right of it. shit tried to remember what it was supposed to scribble. shit understood with superhuman clarity that a message from timeless absolute reality would save that disturbed youth's life, and penned with difficulty the words

which the waiter compared to the back of the credit card, shaking his head, smiling, producing echoing ricocheting reversed syllables lost in the maddening time sliced voice noise of the place, didn't he…

understand?

he didn't place, the of noise voice sliced time maddening the in lost syllables reversed ricocheting echoing producing smiling, head, his shaking card, credit the of back the to compared waiter the which

words the difficulty with penned and life, youth's disturbed that save would reality absolute timeless from message a that clarity superhuman with understood shit scribble. to supposed was it what remember to tried shit it. of right the to space and x an was there that paper, the take to had it that remembered shit down coming offered, pen a vision, shit into shoved was plate a and changed scene the day, another like felt what when and before, hours or minutes seconds, gone had waiter the whether knowing not of panic the to way giving slowly cut, a like remained waiter a to handed card credit the of feeling fingers of out sliding the hours for work? they do but depression control to pills are there…

the meaning of life

mister or a # like him, same slipping the small end of his tie out of the knot, stands in shirt and socks, without the teenage hustler grace of baring first the upper body, same fast forward unbuttoning of the shirt, while shit passed out or nearly, letting suit body open belt and buttons, relaxing, knowing if it would have focused, what # was undressing for, but not focusing, watching the haste of suit body changing into monkey body, obviously a gift basket case, shrink wrapped, running from and to with slapstick speed, tearing at shit clothes, huge glazed over eyes bulging towards shit, for a second shit felt good to feel lips pushing back foreskin until the sudden mad pain of idiot trying to fist fuck shit ass hit shit stuck a hand-grenade in shit bowels.

was it a nightmare? (# 15)

no, fucking fisting pain invading passed out shit reality. shit tried to force swollen lips to pronounce…

…but words were too far too fetch.

the meaning of life (cont'd)

the eternal tragic entwinement of strong # forearm x beautiful young ass, # spurted onto shit, shit spurted onto sofa, watching another slapstick episode of # wiping sofa, sucking shit, vanishing into shower giving shit the chance to pass out again, to sleep and dream wonderful clairvoyant dream of zen samurai warriors…

the riff off life

the meaning of life (cont'd)

shit got put into a taxi, answering questions which answered themselves, the meaning of life lost on driver up to his ears in dirty animal craving.

crossing the lobby guided by an inner light, enjoying to move and to know the beauty of shit movements, elevator doors snapping hideously at shit, challenging shit to act in sync. an expensive-looking fair skin fair hair teen mongrel helped shit to trick the vicious doors, holding shit wrists, saying things in a language shit knew was amoi, shit smiled, muscles continuing to pull back shit lips into an demented politicians' grin. too stoned to remember this wasn't a wet dream, shit kissed and felt up the slim lookalike body until the electronic bell made the delicious fuckmutt straighten up and separate from shit with a last wet and smiling kiss. see you!

the meaning of life (new)

stepping out of the elevator shit smelled change and energy! shit went into katze's cell. katze wasn't there but the vcr was playing…

iason's bedroom

RIKKI is chained to an iron bed.

RIKKI shows no reaction.

RIKKI masturbates lazily.

RIKKI obeys with an impolite delay.

IASON rapes RIKKI.

IASON comes.

the meaning of life (aftermath)

the video gave shit a hardon it would be a pity to waste wanking rather than getting sucked. shit hoped katze would come back. but when the door opened, and katze came in, rose was with katze. rose!

pet jumped down from the bed and heeled, kissing and licking rose's boots embracing his legs and kissing his cock through the jeans. rose kicked pet balls and began to knuckle pet head, pushed pet head roughly against his cock

# 16

rose opened his belt and pet ripped open the brass buttons of rose's leather jeans. pet began to suck rose's cock, rose pushed pet down on katze's bed and fucked pet for the rest of the episode. katze pushed the fast back button on the vcr, but rose said

katze stopped it and let it run.

pet would have liked to watch too but rose fucked pet in the missionary position, knees up. pet could only hear the fucking soundtrack, which was in fucking amoi.

eternal

beginning

pet was stoned beyond shitself with happiness. pet wanted to know what had happened, but how to ask?

suddenly pet became aware of the cum dripping down pet thighs, the shit pet had let happen! rose would kick it out! pet knelt and hoped rose would kill it or punish it until the pain would clear it. rose gently rapped pet head, gently hitting pet lips and nose, just trying to draw blood

pet jumped up and put the arms around rose's neck, how could rose be so nice to call it fucking rikki? pet said, crying

pet kissed rose

rose will get to know. rose will kick it out. pet licked roses boots for rose to kick pet face. if only rose would punish pet and forgive pet! why did pet ever let mister touch it!

middle

there was shit and ¥¥¥…

…the trip was a success. but rose will hear about mister and kill pet, or worse, throw pet out. pet sucked rose as never before, licked rose's ass, which rose liked and pet didn't. rose gave pet a t with in beautiful amoi letters printed on it

pet thought

and told it all, about mister.

ichabod

rose looked for the remote, pushed the button for the pet collar until pet passed out from the pain. rose got up from the bed and dressed and put his boots on, as for going out. turned, put the pet ring on repeat, to wake pet up again and beat pet for good, as rose had never done before, not stopping, going on kicking when pet shouted

because it had heard and felt bones cracking.

hey joe!

rose went on kicking and swearing, letting the battery of the pet ring run empty, pet thought it would die, but it didn't die, it just flopped around on the floor, passing out, coming to, passing out again there was nothing pet could do, it would have screamed but didn't dare.

pet hoped suddenly it would be dead and all would be over.

if rose would have stayed away longer, pet would have killed shitself for sure! without katze pet would have killed shitself long time ago.

rose didn't stop kicking pet.

stone free

rose went out to piss, pet didn't dare to move. if only katze would come! but katze didn't come. nobody came. there was a pain in the body pet had never felt before. trying to think about what was wrong, pet passed out.

# 17

rose came back and fucked pet rudely, pet head hit the wall every time rose pushed into it. when rose came, he strangled pet like he meant business until pet passed out.

purple haze

coming to, pet didn't dare to speak, for sure, rose was going to throw pet out. it was over, and it was all pet fault. pet was crying and licking rose's feet. but rose kicked pet head away.

rose got up and caught pet by the pet collar and threw pet into the bath cell, banged the door shut. pet had never seen rose angry, it didn't dare to move, not to piss, not to take a pill, pet thought about going and telling rose to please kill it, that it didn't want to live without rose. but what if rose got more angry?

highway chile

pet heard that rose left. now at least pet could piss and wash. pet body looked like, you'd think pet survived a plane crash, getting up was difficult. the left arm felt like broken. there was stout and pet drank it. pet thought of leaving, first time, but where could pet go? no # would want it for good. or killing shitself. but fucking mongrels would make fun of it. pet swallowed all kind of pills, half to kill shitself and half to stop the pain. but the pills were real shit, and pet vomited first and suddenly lying flat on the floor wasn't safe enough anymore, the earth was bucking round like a bronco with a pet ring.

gloria

pet was spinning on the floor, turning, falling, watching patterns covered planes to infinity and circles spinning round centers pet could not find, if only katze would come! it got worse and worse. more pills would make pet pass out, which was like sleep, which was better. pet tried to get up holding onto the sink, but somehow pet was too heavy or what, and it broke off half of the sink, and fell down with it part of it, cutting shitself badly, bleeding like shit, kind of got up nevertheless, to call for help, tried to phone, but forgot how to, blood all over the fucking phone and the carpet, managed to get out into the hall, to call katze, to find katze's cell

pet ran into hotel staff, who got it back to the room, who called katze. katze came

but pet couldn't. pet tried to explain how mongrels through their own fault fell into sin, sinful and guiltless cause there was no difference between good and bad, to understand was liberation, pet saw the earth landscape extend to infinity. androids, mongrels, ***s, rose x katze, rose x pet, all destined to die…

katze helped pet to put on trousers and took pet to katze cell. pet slid onto the floor, it was difficult to keep up. katze called a doctor while pet watched…

forever!

Forever

a film by
ratanadilak kamtrakul

Laos 1955

GI carries bleeding LOCAL through thick jungle towards a river. grenades are exploding near them. on the other side of the river GI's jeep can be seen on the bank of the river.

GI looks at the small buddhist medal on LOCAL's bloody breast.

cut to:

it's just a piece of red plastic with a gilded picture on it.

cut back:

episode iii ¾ patton's dream ii

Thailand ¾ village street

thailand ¾ bungalow

the pain became like a symphony of pain rolling through and cutting into pet body, the bass notes of ass pain and of rose's fists hitting pet back and the treble notes of the pet collar, the shattering brass attacks of the pet ring. the high solo notes of rose's bowie knife slashing pet back. the final throttling and coming and falling into utter darkness, if only rose would snuff pet now!

when mister called rose got the picture. pet didn't mind, it turned pet on to see a tcc™ executive rearrange a painful hardon inside tight tan stretch slacks, rational thought blown away by fucking considerations, eyes glazed over with pix of pet spread-eagled on his heirloom quilted heirloom four-poster bed, and when rose called the stakes and told the # that pet was available for a price, the drooling haste to fork out bills, to close the door and unbutton the shirt, pet on the bed, armed with a stoned grin, which pet knew looked like pet was beyond reckoning what was going on, but pet saw the 1/1000" by 1/1000" advancing of the horny bee towards the naked flowerpup, the room, the hotel, the county, the earth, the galaxy spinning away. the naked body blocking pet vision bore the imprints of top of the range goldwater™ briefs, kissed with napoleon™ brandy breath, uttered with a pained wankers' voice french sex words learnt from black market cadinot™ porn flicks…

• fuck!
  mister, when pet spurted ½ fluid oz. of cum on his freshly dry-cleaned midnight blue mohair pants (the thin cloth on mister's strong legs was sexy, but woe! the endless drudgery of sucking a mister while he watches tcc™ stock tracker™.)

• he must be ten inch or more!
  an academic trying to impress pet with the size of his teenage pup's cock, called jurgen (by now pet was so tired of cocks and cock sizes, that pet never cared to find out who was jurgen)

• this is basic hygiene!
  a hmo exec wiping pet ass with benzine before penetration (he paid in pills ¾ difficult to get stuff)

• my wife is sick!
  pet had heard that one before (he made pet sick too)

• it has nothing to do with sex!
  a social worker who offered pet to take it from rose's hell to his own non-prejudiced heaven where he preyed on fallen angels (it had nothing to do with sex, cause every time he moved, his cock dropped out of pet ass and had to be stuffed back in by his fingers like the intestines of an assassinated teddy bear.

• i need to be discreet!
  anonymous (every single meatrack futtmuck knew every single fucking hair in his sink)

XXVII
trouble in south ceres

XXVIII
in memoriam alexander mellon mars
aka
katze

pet tired of the hustler life. katze's death marked pet, pet would have liked a change of life, but how? where? what? pet had learnt in tc

rose didn't care to kick or fuck pet, spent his days shooting h, telling pet what an asshole pet was for hustling for an asshole like rose, telling pet

XXIX
lucky

quickly downing stout to get immune to shit talk, more repetitive than an answering machine

…wide awake on the spinning, bucking bed, about to vomit, afraid and alone, if only rose were here! none of the fucking studs could touch rose.