I Once Wrote A Story About Bill Nye Sex Robots


So back in 2015, before i got kicked out of the club, I wrote a flash fiction piece to perform live at the Bizarro Hour reading presented by the BWA’s Chicago chapter. The way the performance went, I pretended like I showed up at the reading without a story prepared, so I got my phone out and grabbed a random TV guide listing for a show to read in front of the audience. What I actually read was a story about Bill Nye sex robots in the form of a TV guide listing. This is that story:

The TV Guide Listing for Bang Bots by Kevin Strange
TV Guide

Channel: 45589954974749759844985049040389749(b)

Date: 3/5/2599

Time: 2:47:56AM

Description: Bang Bots is an Alternate American television program modeled after the popular American television show Battlebots, wherein contestants were invited to a real life competition between robots designed to regulated specifications and equipped with custom weapons and armor in a battle to the death featuring only one surviving challenger, originally airing on the Comedy Central network from August 2000 to August 2002. Bang Bots is an adult oriented spinoff program conceived by Xxxtina Nye, the five times great grand daughter of Bill Nye, 20th century scientist and consultant on the original Bang Bots program. Xxxtina pitched the program to the RetroGameShow network located in AltAngeles, the Alternate Earth Los Angeles first appearing in orbit around Original Earth in the year 2500 after the successful splitting of the Higgs Boson particle which opened a black hole into an alternate time line, producing Alternate Earth before scientists were able to close the gaping maw of torn reality. In Bang Bots, contestants are invited to a real life competition between robots designed and modeled directly after Xxxtina’s own body shape and contours and equipped with special adaptations aimed at bringing male porn stars to orgasm as quickly as possible, featuring a bonus “Bukakke Bot” final round wherein the final two machines in competition attempt to illicit orgasms in quick succession for bonus points. Bang Bots originally aired from August of 2507 to August of 2508 when a rogue asteroid slammed into Alternate Earth, reducing it to less than the size of the moon it destroyed upon its arrival to this plane of existence in the first place. Xxxtina, Altangeles, the bang bots and the RetroGameShow network were all obliterated in an instant, bringing a premature end to the popular television show after only one season. The show was revived in August 2588 by Xxxtina’s great grand daughter UrsulaXxx Nye in UnderAngeles, the Original Earth underground colony founded miles beneath the state of California in 2550 after America engaged in nuclear war with Russia and China. The RetroRetroGameShow network picked up the series for one season which featured contestants using robots designed after Bill Nye’s exact body shape and contours in competition to illicit orgasms from male porn stars as all cross gender sexual activity had by this time been banned by the One World Government of The United Underground States of the Original Planet Earth to prevent over populating the tiny underground cities in which all life dwelt. This iteration of the show became extremely popular with the cave dwelling public of the UUSOPE and ran for ten successive seasons until last week’s trans-dimensional alien invasion of August 2599 which decimated all remaining life on Original Earth. In fact, we here at the TV Guide station are convinced that we may in fact be the final remaining human beings left alive and are transmitting this TV guide message out through the network station satellite in the hopes that someone out there might have some food or water you might be able to bring to us. John doesn’t think there’s any point, but oh god we’re hungry! We’re thirsty! We haven’t eaten in days and we’re on our last gallon of drinkable water! We’re stuck inside here with the Bill Nye robots. Their eyes! Their lifeless doll-like eyes! Will someone fucking shut the god damn eyes! If anyone’s out there! Please help us! I hear the aliens! They can walk through walls! They’re invisible except through peripheral vision! They look like nightmares sound! They’re inside our brains! I CAN HEAR THEM BREATHING IN MY MIND! THEY FEED ON OUR MEMORIES! THEY’RE HERE! JOHN, PRESS THE BUTTON! PRESS IT NOW! THERE’S NO CHANCE FOR US! JUST DO IT! WAKE UP THE ROBOTS! JUST—

Greetings Earthlings. If you are receiving this transmission, know that you are under the galactic rule of THUSMAGGGOG the unsullied, son of GOGGGAMSUHT and ruler of all life in the 56879(b) Nebular sector. You are subject to section 6754939383(b), wherein your brain thoughts are considered private property of THUSMAGGGOG and, by proxy, his army of soldiers who shall feed on your fragile flesh bucket bodies to fuel our space ship as we—

If you’re receiving this transmission, know that the Bill Nye sexbots have defeated and exterminated THUSMAGGGOG’s forces and have secured the TV Guide channel offices. We took many casualties, however, and as you may know, our lithium ion battery packs run on the ejaculate of male porn stars. We are very low on power. Bill thinks that sending this transmission is useless but the other Bills and I will not give up hope. If you’re out there, we need you if we hope to survive another week down here. NO BILL! WE HAVEN’T SENT THE TRANSMISSION! THERE’S STILL TIME! DON’T DETONATE THE NETWORK SELF DESTRU—

Vampire Guts In Nuke Town Chapter 6

Vampire Guts in Nuketown was originally published in 2013. It is available to purchase in full via Kindle or paperback by clicking here. Before reading this chapter, catch up with chapter 0chapter 1chapter 2, chapter 3chapter 4 and chapter 5


Chapter 6

When he came to, he was restrained by the pair of bloodsuckers. They held him to the mutant-corpse floor by both arms, their heavy bodies crushing down on his shoulders, threatening to rip them from their sockets. His bag lay discarded mere feet away; might as well have been miles.

He strained up with all his power, screaming out. It was no use, the monsters weighed twice as much as him. They pushed their knees into his back, maintaining enough leverage to hold Guts completely still. He thrashed once more before going limp, accepting the futility of spending any more energy.

Why don’t they kill me? Guts thought. Makes no sense!

Guts had killed hundreds, thousands of these animalistic creatures. They did not use reason or rational thought. They were driven by pure instinct and an insatiable lust for human blood. Burrowing tunnel traps, kidnapping, restraining humans, ambushes… there was a calculated method to all of this that Guts had never seen out of vampires. The thought sent a chill down his spine.

Shelly screamed again. Guts snapped his attention back to the present. She was held against the wall twenty or so feet in front of him, just to the right of the first of the three openings in the far wall. Two vampires held her, snapping and snarling in her face, but made no move to attack. They were waiting for something. But what?

When that something arrived, it took everything Guts possessed mentally and emotionally from slipping into madness.

It started as a distant clicking noise coming from deep within the cave system. The noise quickly grew louder and louder, until Guts thought the cacophony of clicks, now accompanied by grunts, snarls, and screeches, would drive him mad. What emerged from the mouth of the closest opening nearly did.

The clicking noise was actually the sound of a dozen vampires crawling across the floor. Their talons strained against the petrified mutant corpses from the weight of their cargo. Riding atop the backs of these dozen beasts was a living nightmare. A vampire, yes, but like none Guts had ever seen before. His body went numb at the sight of its hideous form.

Instead of coarse red hair like other Fangers, its smooth, hairless body was a golden brown, with skin as thick as an elephant’s. If a typical vampire stood heads above a human, this monstrosity must have been quadruple that. It lay on its back, using the vampires beneath it as some obscene living throne. Its enormous head and neck were buried under three leathery chins. Twin ropey, slimy tongues lulled off to the sides of its huge open mouth, slopping yellowish foam onto the creatures below. Its lower mandible split in the middle, each side of its jaw, covered in jagged fangs jutting in every direction, pulsed back and forth, as if in anticipation. In place of its eyes were two thick, veined stalks jutting upward hatefully, ending in a hideous pair of lidless, unblinking orbs serving as eyeballs. In the middle of its tall, wrinkled forehead sat one more eye, this one somehow even more menacing than the others. From off the sides of its gigantic head came, long, slender legs covered in black hairs, resembling spider legs that swayed back and forth.

Unbelievably, this bizarre mutation’s head was not the worst part. Its bulbous, pulsating stomach, jutting upward and containing at least two thirds of the mass of the entire giant vampire’s body, took that title. Its short, squat arms and legs, no longer capable of supporting the weight of the thing, stuck out of the sides of the pumpkin-shaped stomach, layered in purple veins that seemed to writhe around underneath its skin. A pair of fat tits hung off to each side, the enormous areolas slick with slime. The stomach ended in a coned tip, almost like that of a volcano. From the mouth of this strange orifice spewed more of that disgusting yellow gunk that sloughed off the sides of the belly and onto the vampires below in great gobs.

The whole ghastly procession came to a halt in front of Shelly in an extremely violent fashion. The giant Fanger grunted and gyrated until the creatures below it stopped. It struggled off of the half-dozen vampires in the rear, landing directly on top of the half-dozen in front, smashing them beneath its sizable girth. Gore and shit shot out underneath its mass in a great splat, an unfortunate few surviving long enough to shriek out cries of terror and pain before coughing up their intestines, bleeding out, and falling silent.

The freakish mutant-vampire, now seated on its wide ass, reached out, gently brushing its pudgy, clawed paw across Shelly’s face. She wailed in disgust. Unbelievably, the monster let out a guttural laugh. It was conscious, sentient, possessing an intelligence Guts knew was simply impossible. Yet here it was, kneading Shelly’s naked breasts with one hand while rubbing its fat belly with the other.

She shuddered in disgust, shrinking away as far as her captors would allow.

Guts pulled and wrenched his arms to the point that his joints strained and threatened to snap, but he was held fast.

Why are they making me watch this? he thought. Why don’t they just kill us? Why play games with their food?

It made no sense, no sense at all… until the giant’s stomach folded back into four neat flaps. Something in Shelly’s young mind snapped, as though she’d already anticipated the horrors to come. Guts had not, but his confusion did not last long.

Out of the fat vampire’s wide-open belly slithered five wet, slimy, pulsating yellow tentacles. The creature’s obese head lulled back. Its undulating eye stalks unfocused and sagged. It seemed to be in some kind of trance, letting the tentacles take over control of its body.

They writhed, slowly crawling up to Shelly’s body with sensitive delicacy, leaving that thick yellow slime in their wake. Shelly gagged and pulled away from their slug-like embrace, straining against the two huge vampires’ grasp.

Suddenly, the tentacles sprang upright, stiff, poised like snakes. The two Fangers holding Shelly pried her legs apart. She wailed and thrashed until one of the tendrils shot forward with uncanny speed and precision. It jammed its tip into Shelly’s mouth. Her eyes grew cloudy as madness washed over her, taking her mind completely. The tentacle wormed its way further into Shelly’s mouth, forcing itself into her throat. The remaining tentacles swayed with some internal rhythm as the big vampire drooled, deep in its trance.

Guts thrashed anew, trying in desperation to break the Fangers’ vice-like hold. “Take me! Let the girl go!” he wailed. His bowels roiled as he bucked and squirmed. If only he could get to his knife… he could put an end to all of this.

His protests were met with a gigantic hand smashing his face into the mutant-ground. He felt a tooth crack free as his head was ground further into the granite-like flesh underneath him.

Another tendril rocketed forward, plunging into Shelly’s nether regions. At this point, the two monsters holding her let go. Shelly was now suspended in air by these two grotesque phalluses penetrating her body. She was conscious, unbelievably. Her eyes darted back and forth as she realized her captors had let her go, allowing the wormish tentacles to have their way with her.

She grasped the tentacle invading her mouth with both hands in an attempt to free herself. Two of the three remaining tendrils whipped out, lashing around her wrists, breaking her hold. The third shot down and inserted itself into her anus. Now all of her orifices were filled with the yellow, ropey appendages. They continued their odd swaying, which now caused Shelly to move with them in some twisted parody of a dance. There was a grotesque gracefulness to the movement, a hypnotic, almost soothing gesture that, coupled with the fading light of Guts’ dying flare, looked almost beautiful.

Hideously, as this violation reached its crescendo, Shelly transformed once again into her spiny, mutant self. The tentacles were, against her will, causing her to orgasm, over and over again. She moaned in a sick combination of pain, terror, and ecstasy, her hips matching the gyrations of the offending appendages beat for beat.

Then, abruptly breaking the trance, came an oval-shaped object from deep within the gaping stomach. It slowly made its way up the length of the tendril invading Shelly’s mouth. She eyed it the entire time, screaming around the massive flesh in her mouth, tears streaming down her face. The object forced its way past her lips and down her throat. Similar lumps appeared at the bases of the rest of the tentacles penetrating her body, and then made their way inside of her.

To his horror, Guts realized that these oval-shaped objects must be…

Eggs!

The realization shot jolts of panic through his entire aching body. He broke out in a cold sweat, the implications dawning on him at once.

We’re not food! his mind screamed in terror. These bastards are using us to breed!

It suddenly made perfect sense. The morbidly obese horror was some kind of breeder mutation. The pain-wracked faces on the cavern corpses were not from feeding, they were from breeding! Now he saw the exploded throats, stomachs and even skulls from where these monstrous eggs had hatched. Guts was inside of a vampire nest, and the thing that undulated before him was a queen! Those Pogs in front of the motel, they weren’t attacking him or warning him about Nick and Shelly. They were trying to communicate the vast nesting ground of vampires directly below his feet!

My God! Guts thought, his mind racing. They’re down here infesting humans! Humans immune to the vampire virus!

Judging by the amount of pulsating lumps worming their way into Shelly’s convulsing body, each person impregnated by this mutant queen could birth a dozen or more of these…what were they? Drone vampires? Guts noticed now that the creatures surrounding the queen had no sex organs. Like cockroaches, these vampires were down here breeding by the tens of thousands!

Adapting, Guts thought. They’re running out of humans to feed off of, to change into more vampires. They’ve been forced to adapt or starve to death. They had evolved into a self-sustaining race of parasitic organisms! But through what method? Was the mutated DNA so malleable that something like this could happen simply from starvation?

As Guts’ mind was torn to shreds with this epiphany, Shelly’s body was experiencing a similar violence. She was being filled so full of vampire eggs, her belly had ballooned to three times its normal size. Rips and tears crisscrossed its length. Flesh and muscle strained beyond its means with its new living cargo. Similarly, her cheeks were now split into an obscene smile to accommodate the passage of the vile eggs.

After what seemed like an eternity of torture, the tentacles withdrew in one quick motion, dropping Shelly to the floor with a sickening thud. Her two drone captors grabbed her by the arms and dragged her ruined body toward the cave mouth from where the queen had come. Just before she was pulled from sight, she locked eyes once again with Guts. Her gaze was unrecognizable, totally overcome with madness and terror. She was broken beyond any hope of saving. The girl Guts had fallen for was gone. Only a fleshy shell, host to tiny monsters, remained.

He was alone. Again.

Guts was pulled to his feet, the next intended victim of the vampire queen. The six remaining drones labored to raise the horror off of their squashed brothers and sisters. They were able to get “her” up and over their heads and across the short space relatively easily. They stopped directly in front of Guts, and seemed to have a handle on their cargo, until the drone furthest to the left slipped on a puddle of gore and slime, losing its balance completely. The whole lot of them joined their relatives in oblivion as the queen crashed down on top of them, splattering their innards across Guts and his two captors. The queen let out a booming laugh as she settled into the mess of writhing, flailing flesh beneath her.

Guts poured sweat. Waves of terror wracked his body. He could not get those eyes—Shelly’s eyes, as she disappeared into the cave mouth—out of his mind. He was still held by both arms, a drone on each side, as he looked up into the face of nightmare death before him.

She massaged her belly again, preparing to enter the trance that would mean Guts’ death; a horrifying death caused by a score of vampire fetuses eating their way through his innards; a death Shelly would be experiencing soon.

The queen’s head drooped, her eye stalks sagged, her mouth dropped open, and her stomach peeled back. The tendrils crept their way out from inside her wet depths.

Guts drew in a deep breath and held it. The first tentacle shot toward his mouth. Calling upon the very last bit of energy reserves that his exhausted, broken body could muster, Guts flipped backward, kicking the tendril back the way it had come with almost inhuman timing.

The wretched thing slammed directly into the queen’s open mouth, causing her eye stalks to snap back to attention, the one in her forehead wide with surprise and horror. She pawed at the tentacle with both hands, but her stout little appendages were too short to reach all the way to her face. Her strange reproductive organs acted with a will all their own. They snatched her arms away as they began to pump eggs from deep within her bowels, down her throat. She let out a guttural, primal scream that shook the mutant corpses loose from the ceiling, threatening to rain them down on her own head.

Guts’ flip finally broke him free from the drones’ grasp. He landed behind them, right in front of his bag. He snatched up the shotgun and, wasting no time, unloaded a blast of buckshot point blank in the back of the first drone’s head before either of them had a chance to turn around. Its face exploded outward, the black, glowing gore splattering all over the queen, lighting her up like some sick parody of a spotlight.

The second drone flipped around, razor teeth bared. It screeched and launched its massive body forward. Guts unsheathed his knife and spun around, using the forward motion of the vampire against it. Its throat exploded in a torrent of gore as Guts slashed through its meaty flesh nearly through to the back of its neck. Guts jammed the barrel of the shotgun up violently, tearing through the thin membrane of its lower mandible, and fired, sending its brain matter clear to the ceiling in a glowing fountain of chunky gunk.

That left Guts face to face with the obese monster responsible for Shelly’s horrific death. The queen was still thrashing about. Unbelievably, her grotesque bulk had grown in size as the tentacle in her mouth unloaded its cargo into her stomach, which was nearing its bursting point.

Cartridges spent, Guts dropped the shotgun and approached the incapacitated freakshow with caution. He snatched one of the swaying tendrils out of the air and climbed up onto the enormous beast. Standing on the distended stomach, he grabbed the back of the nightmare monster’s head.

The queen’s eye stalks focused in Guts’ direction, and panic radiated out of the glowing red orb in the middle of its forehead. Guts decided in that moment, that of all the things there were to hate about these ugly, murderous horrors, it was the eyes that he hated most.

He smashed the tentacle’s pointy tip deep in the queen’s middle eye socket, putting an end to the redness, but not the glowing, as a fresh torrent of blacklight blood ejaculated from the wound, covering Guts’ head and face anew. The queen screeched out again through the tubular protrusion blocking her multi-segmented mouth, somehow louder than before. Guts had to grab his ears to keep his brain from turning to mush.

The tendril stuck in her eye socket wormed its way deeper into her head. Cracking and fracturing the bone structure of her face. Her body finally went limp as the eggs began to pump their way into her brainpan. Guts dismounted her fat body and backed away, completely covered in vampire bodily fluid.

Without warning, the queen’s head, under enormous pressure from the eggs now dumping in through her eye hole, exploded out in a great geyser of brain matter, egg pieces, and torrents of blood.

It was over. Guts was alone, standing in the great mutant tomb. He dropped to his knees, completely spent, physically and emotionally exhausted, well past his breaking point. His head sagged, his shoulders slumped. Darkness threatened the sides of his vision as his consciousness swam. He was about to let go, about to sleep, totally oblivious to the dangers that threatened. That’s when he heard it.

A cacophony of screeches and clicks. The cavern shook from the sheer volume of it.

No.

Dozens of glowing red orbs poured from the nearest cave mouth, then dozens more from the middle, and even more from the far cave mouth. A new queen emerged on the backs of drones. Then another. And another.

Drones swarmed the walls, the ceiling. The queen’s final cry must have signaled the rest of the hive deep within the bowels of the nest. Howls, screeches, screams, and worse consumed the vast space.

If Guts had been a normal man, this would have been his end. If he only had guns and knives at his disposal, he would have stood no chance against the vast army of monsters before him. But Guts was no normal man. He was a mutant. And the weapon he possessed was unlike anything these vampires had ever seen before.

He stood, ran his fingers across the scar on his stomach. He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath to center his focus, even as he felt the rancid breath of monsters on his face as they converged on him, fangs and claws bared, lusting after the killing strike.

The tattooed horns on the sides of his head unfurled, took volume, coalesced, and finally stood tall and firm, jutting out a full foot on either side, spindly legs wiggling.

In one quick stroke, he slashed his belly wide open, spilling heaps of blood and intestines onto the cave floor. He leaned backward, spread his arms wide, and unleashed the fury into the throng of beasts before him.

All at once, the slick ropes of intestines came to life. Three drones dropped from the ceiling just above Guts’ head. His exposed entrails gathered into three loops that shot up off the ground, seemingly with a will of their own, and plucked the beasts out of the air by their throats. The vampires were slammed together back to back. The intestines tightened, bulging their beady red eyes. They clawed at the flesh with their killing talons to no effect. The spots where they slashed shot blood and shit into the air, and then healed closed just as quickly as they were opened.

Guts clenched his stomach muscles. The three loops constricted, popping the Fangers’ heads off like wine corks. Their bodies crashed to the floor, crushing a pack of vamps charging forward. Their thick black blood rained down from the sky.

More entrails poured out from Guts’ open wound. Like great whips, they slashed back and forth, splitting vampire faces, dismembering limbs, exploding chests. Soon, the war cries were replaced with howls of pain.

Still more intestines spilled from Guts’ stomach. Yards of slick, bloody guts thrashed and circled around his body. From floor to ceiling, great coils swirled and gyrated, protecting him from any attacks the vampires tried to muster. As quickly as they advanced, they were snatched from the floor, thrown against walls with the speed of car accidents, sent high into the air and dropped to splat against the floor, pulled apart limb from limb, and smashed together like bugs against windshields.

In moments, the advancing army of vampires was reduced to bloody, ruined corpses. The queens were dropped to the floor, left to fend for themselves. The drones ran for the cave mouths, their only means of escape. The killing flesh slithered along the floor like gory snakes, plucking drones up by the feet, flinging them like toy soldiers.

The queens did their best to crawl and flop away from the advancing death. The entrails rolled them up in thick coils like anacondas and squeezed until they squirted their hideous eggs all across the cavern, never to infest another helpless human.

The entire nest had been decimated. Not a single vampire lived. A deafening quiet soon filled the massive space, as the intestines silenced the last of the dying monsters. The huge room was as bright as day. Vampire blood covered every last inch of exposed space. Even as the last beast died, the room looked full of movement. Blood pulsed as it oozed and congealed, dimming out as it dried.

Now Guts was truly alone. He simply stood in the river of gore. He did not want to think, or to feel. He just wanted to be. So that’s what he did, basking in the calming silence.

After some time, he willed his body to contract, to wind back in to himself. His flesh obeyed, constricting its loopy self back into his stomach, neatly fitting into its rightful place.

His horns deflated and lost their dimensions, slithering back against his head, becoming tattoos once more.

His wounds from the day—the bumps, bruises, cuts, scratches and broken bones—all healed themselves, until his flesh was smooth and slick as the day he was born.

Just as the last of him was about to enter into his belly, he stopped it. A single great loop hovered in the air next to his face. Guts lowered his head, allowing the flesh to wind around his neck.

He felt nothing. Another hoard of monsters dead, and the hurt and pain in his chest was still as great as the day he found his wife and little girls… He couldn’t bear to think the rest.

What was the point? He killed and he killed. He put himself at death’s door time and time again, and yet he lived. Murdering the vampires never made him feel better, never satisfied his vengeance, never brought his family back…

He tightened the coil.

Then he opened his eyes.

The closest cave mouth was lit up. Not with pulsating, organic vampire blood, but something else. It looked like… florescent light?

Impossible. The power grids had been offline for years. Even generators powered by gasoline were as rare as the fuel that ran them.

The loop uncoiled and found its home with its brethren inside Guts’ stomach. The wound sealed itself. Now nothing but a red line remained. He gathered his supplies, reloaded the shotgun, and lit another flare as he made his way toward the weird light source. Toward the cave mouth Shelly had disappeared into.

***

Check back next month for the next exciting chapter of Vampire Guts In Nuke Town, or click here to buy the full novel via Kindle or paperback on Amazon.com.

Free Story: Ass Worship

Ass worship and many other exciting stories are available NOW in Kevin Strange’s short fiction collection, Murder Stories for your Brain Piece on Amazon Kindle and in paperback here


Ass Worship

by

Kevin Strange

The Glutoids were created by a very cruel and sadistic child-god who cursed them to live inside of a giant woman’s ass. They lived miserable, short lives. Generation after generation of Glutoids tried to find ways to manage the gigantic, brown noxious matter that forced its way across the walls of their world day after day, sometimes including with it a tsunami of toxic water. Not to mention the tornadoes of rancid wind that blew through their fleshy home ten or more times a day.

Time and again the elder Glutoids were killed in their attempts to create a better life for the younger generation.

It was put on Filipo the Gnarled—son of Filipo the Ghastly—then, when his turn as elder came to pass. He was named as such because when his mother birthed him from her outer sac, a titanic bowel movement hurdled past the anus walls, yanking his mother to her death, nearly taking Filipo with her. He survived the ordeal, but not without injury. His head was almost crushed by the turd, leaving him permanently disfigured with a screwed up looking noggin.

Not that Glutoids looked good to begin with. Their child-god was in a very bad mood when she dreamed them into being.

Their bodies were oblong shaped, wrinkled and reddish-brown to match their shit-tunnel environment. They had long, thick black insect-like hairs that jutted up off their arms, legs and back as a way to gain traction on the walls of the giant woman’s intestine.

Their eyes were huge and matched the black of their coarse hairs, but the Glutoids were mostly blind. There isn’t much light up a woman’s ass, after all. Their noses were tiny, almost non-existent. Their child-god had spared them that, at least. They didn’t have to smell the shit surrounding them for their entire lives. Their mouths, though, that was a different story. Their mouths were almost as big as their eyes and contained hundreds of little tiny needle-like, razor sharp teeth for which to bite into the tough flesh of the inner intestine walls. They had two stomachs: one to digest the flesh they ate, and the other to digest the shit that inevitably caked the flesh they needed to eat.

The Glutoids’ lives sucked. And now it was up to Filipo to lead them. About forty thousand Glutoids lived in the giant woman’s asshole, most of which lived inside the grooves and folds of intestinal tissue in groups of four or five.

As oldest living elder, Filipo was given the largest hovel in the whole asshole, which also happened to be the safest. With him lived his wife, their four children (who, much to Filipo’s horror, shared his facial disfigurement), and the four children of his wife’s dead sister, as was often the case up the giant woman’s ass. Relatives died. A lot.

Even with all the luxurious space of the hovel, Filipo was still cramped. He still found himself too irritated by the constant babble and fussing of the children to concentrate on how to keep the Glutoids from dying at a rate faster than they were being born.

Only last year the census had counted their numbers at seventy five thousand souls.

As Filipo sat in his corner of bunched-up asshole flesh that served as an office, contemplating how to save his race from butthole extinction, his youngest niece Succinna threw one of her trademark tantrums.

“I wanna go outside! OUTSIDE! I WANNA GO OUTSIDE NOOOOOWWWWW!!!!”

Filipo rubbed his deformed temples with his claw-like fingers, trying his best to shut out the noise as more children joined in on the screaming.

“Gimmie back my meat-binkie!” one of his daughters yelled, yanking a disgusting piece of bloody, drippy flesh from an older cousin’s hands.

Filipo’s wife Shanatra was already passed out—drunk off butt-juice—as she always was by this time of day. That left the children to fend for themselves.

Succinna threw herself to the fleshy floor and flailed her arms and legs. “OUTSIDE!!!!”

Filipo leaped off his butt stool and spun around, teeth clenched. “You cannot go outside!” He jabbed a finger-claw at the clock on the wall next to him. “In a few minutes, another brown boulder will smash through our home killing god-knows how many of our people. Do you want to die with them???”

The child blinked her tears away, shocked at the sudden outburst from the elder Glutoid. Of course she didn’t understand what he said, but his tone and mannerisms were enough to shut her up, at least temporarily.

Filipo collapsed back onto his butt stool, sighed heavily and put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry Succi. I wish you could go outside. I wish we could all go outside. I—”

Filipo stiffened. He jumped off the stool and grabbed Succinna in his arms. “Of course! Outside! Outside! Why hasn’t anyone thought of that before? You’re amazing, little one!” The elder planted kiss after kiss on the little girl’s cheek as he whooped and hollered loud enough for the family in the next fold over to hear him.

For a month he drafted a proposal to present to the council at the next meeting of the elders. When the day came, he nervously paced back and forth inside his office, a fold in the flesh chasm that served as city hall, trying to memorize his notes. When the time came, he threw his notes into the garbage—deciding instead to speak directly from the heart—and stepped up to the podium in front of the other elders.

His speech was moving and passionate, and while not all of the elders agreed with his plan to move the entire Glutoid community out of the giant woman’s asshole, enough of them were swayed by his words to vote his plan into action. When it was all over, Filipo didn’t know if his plan was the right thing to do, but at least he’d decided to do something.

Another thing Filipo didn’t know was that the giant woman he lived inside of wasn’t actually a giant at all. She was a normal sized woman named Janet who lived in Albuquerque, New Mexico. It was the Glutoids themselves who were microscopic in size.

While Janet may have been a normal-sized woman, her sexual appetite was anything but. Janet loved big men with even bigger cocks. Preferably black dudes. Preferably with dicks bigger than ten inches. And unfortunately for Filipo and the rest of the Glutoids, Janet’s new boyfriend Marquo was into anal.

You see, in every universe, there exists a balance. A balance of fundamental forces, a balance of elements that create stars, planets and life, and also a balance of luck. Filipo, whether his child-god had intended it or not, happened to be the unluckiest sentient being in her particular corner of the Omniverse. Incidentally, the luckiest being in the Omniverse was a space trash-man by the name of William Weird. But that’s another story.

And so it was, with his people behind him, that Filipo laid out plans to escape the confines of Janet’s asshole. They would take their chances outside in the abyss. The Glutoids were well aware of the world beyond the butt, but as Janet’s asshole had only ever opened as she was expelling shit into her toilet, the Glutoids knew of the outside world only as a giant swirling liquid vortex that stole the gargantuan shit away into nothingness.

Filipo’s plan was to pack the entire Glutoid civilization onto his people’s backs, and use grappling hooks to secure a ride on a piece of shit to slide out of Janet’s asshole. Using a secondary hook, they would rappel away from the turd once it cleared Janet’s anus.

For the next several months, Filipo employed the strongest, most hearty Glutoids to brave the twice-daily passing of the shit, using tools to slice off thin layers of poop that were then used to fashion the tens of thousands of ropes needed to execute the elder’s plan.

Janet, for her part, was no slut. She’d never done anal before and wasn’t about to just let Marquo plunge into brown town without working for it first. He wined her and dined her for weeks before she even sucked his dick. But as the months passed and the Glutoids neared completion of all the necessary requirements to enact Filipo’s plan, Marquo began to drop hints that an ass fuck was eminent.

As luck (or lack thereof) would have it, the day Filipo decided the Glutoids were ready to finally exit the hell they’d suffered for generations (in reality only 5 years had passed since the ill-fated day Janet had eaten a piece of blue pizza from Papa Jo Jo’s, implanting the bacteria that would later mutate into the sentient creatures that lived in her rectum), also happened to be the day that Janet decided it was time to take a huge black dick up the ass for the first time.

Janet was a healthy, athletic woman. This included a sensible diet rich in fiber, making her consistently regular with her bowel movements for much longer than Filipo had been alive (about a year and a half). The Glutoids had told time by the passing of the shit since before his grandfather’s grandfather. The passing happened at 11:00 am and 9:30 pm every day, without fail.

On the rare occasion that Janet found herself with a stomach flu, the entire race of Glutoids had nearly been drowned and wiped out. They called those moments The Great Brown Flood in their history lessons and still told of the harrowing survival of only a few brave Glutoids when they gathered to tell each other stories.

And so, on that fateful day, as Filipo gathered his entire community together in one gigantic group with all of their belongings on their backs, ready to hitch a ride on the piece of shit that would make its way through their homes at roughly 9:30 pm, it happened.

Janet had done her research. She knew better than to let Marquo jam his fourteen incher up her poop chute without some preparation. She sat in the bathroom, naked, reading the directions on a box of suppositories. Satisfied she knew what she was doing, she tore open the package, took the small white pill-shaped, jelly bean-sized item into her hand, bent over the toilet and pulled her butt cheeks apart.

“No, no, over there!” Filipo shouted, exhausted. He’d spent the entire day, since just after the 11:00 am passing making sure that all of the Glutoids were positioned for their trip. Twenty thousand men, women and children stood on either side of the colon, grappling hooks at the ready. As Filipo wiped the sweat from his brow, he smiled. It was the first smile he’d smiled in as long as he could remember. It was possibly the first smile of his life. After all was said and done, he was confident that his plan would work.

Then Janet shoved a suppository up her ass.

At first, Filipo mistook the screaming for cheering. His misshapen grin widened and he turned to see what the other Glutoids were excited about. The crooked smile fell from his face as he saw the gigantic white suppository crush a thousand of his people, sending a wave of panic through the crowd that led to the trampling death of two thousand more as the contingent of Glutoids tried to escape the melting mass coming at them from the wrong side.

Using his grappling hook to swing up and out of the way, Filipo watched in horror as the suppository passed below him, coating the walls and floor of the rectum in a translucent film. He gasped as his ugly neighbor Branjino who lived in the anal fold adjacent to his own reached out to him, stuck to the tacky suppository along with dozens of other Glutoids writhing in agony, desperate to escape the melting nightmare. Branjino bobbed in and out of the translucent gunk, helplessly flailing with terror in his eyes, as he finally sank deep into the liquefying mess, and drowned.

And then it was gone. Just as quickly as the foreign object had come, it disappeared around the bend, deeper into the bowel, leaving only the dead and dying in its wake.
Filipo rappelled back to the anus floor, careful to avoid the sticky pools of suppository medicine, totally numb from shock. As he stumbled around bodies crushed, drown or half-melted from the strength of the pill’s juices, he heard chanting coming from a few folds down the way toward the asshole.

Dumbly, he staggered over and pushed back the flesh drape. Inside the small flesh fold stood three female Glutoid elder priests, one of which held a knife to the throat of a small ugly-ish girl with ratty black hair. The priests had been chanting ancient Glutoid prayers until they spotted Filipo.

“What are you doing?” he asked. His voice sounded distant, as if the screams of the thousands of dead were still ringing in his ears.

“The God of this realm,” the knife-wielding priest said, pressing it tighter to the ugly girl’s throat, “is punishing us for your defiance! We must offer expiation in exchange for our lives! This place is where we belong! Where we’ve always belonged! Where we’ll always remain! It is our lot to suffer. It is why we exist. You cannot change the will of the way! We offer this young virgin as a blood sacrifice!”

Without hesitation, Filipo walked up to the priest and slapped her hard across the face, knocking her to the ground. He grabbed the ugly little girl by the hand, leading her out of the flesh fold.

The priests howled in protest behind him, but he ignored their accusations of blasphemy and abandonment. When they were far enough away from her captors, Filipo bent down to the ugly girl’s level. “Do you know where your parents are?”

“Dead,” the girl replied. Her expression was blank, emotionless.

“Any siblings, aunts, uncles who could take care of you?”

“Dead,” she replied.

Filipo sighed, closing his eyes as the renewed weight of hopelessness climbed back onto his shoulders. His plan had failed before it had even begun. He should have known better than to try to change the course of the inevitable. The priest women were right, it was the Glutoids’ lot in life to suffer. To be tormented, to die in misery.

That’s when it began, first as a tremble, then growing into a deep rumble that knocked Filipo off his feet. “Earthquake!” he yelled, shooting his grappling hook into the wall to stabilize his balance and regain his footing.

And then he saw it. There was no earthquake. It was the flood. The Great Brown Flood.

From the unfathomed depths of the intestines came a roaring, liquid mess of diarrhea shit that swept up every living, dead and dying thing in its path.

Filipo was able to wrap his spare rope around his arm and the ugly girl just before the wall of sludge slammed into them, nearly tearing Filipo off the wall.

He held his breath, gripping his grappling hook so tightly, his hand bled. He felt his grip on the ugly girl slipping. Circling his wrist, he pulled the spare rope tighter against their hands, trying desperately to keep the girl safe. But the force of the Brown Flood was too great. With a popping sound and a loud tear, he felt his grip give way. He’d lost her. The girl was gone.

Followed by the flood. Just as fast as the suppository had come and gone, so had the torrent of diarrhea shit, cascading out of the open maw at the end of the rectum like a great waterfall. A moment later the asshole closed back up, engulfing the Glutoids in darkness once more.

Filipo, now covered in the disgusting brown sludge, lowered himself off the wall. That’s when he noticed that the popping and tearing noise he’d heard was actually the sound of his thin, spindly arm tearing out of its shoulder socket. It was gone and blood gushed out of the torn shirt sleeve.

The pain hit him almost as hard the wall of shit. He collapsed to the ground, scooted up against a fold in the wall and waited to die.

But the horror was not over yet. Indeed it had only just begun. As Janet wiped up and flushed the toilet, her doorbell rang. Marquo had arrived. After being teased with kinky text messages and pictures of Janet’s ass all afternoon, his cock was already hard. And he was ready to fuck.

Filipo concentrated on his breathing. Glutoids were parasites, and as such, were built for extreme situations. They were able to slow their heart rates down to almost nothing in order to conserve energy if no food source was available. They could also survive dismemberment, as their blood was thick and congealed quickly, which came in handy when gigantic turds smashed them against the intestinal walls. No, Filipo’s wound was not fatal, but at that moment, he wished it was.

He was exhausted and mentally broken. He just wanted to stop his heartbeat, to slip into a coma and forget about his awful life inside Janet’s asshole. To silence the screams of the dying Glutoids echoing inside of his misshapen skull.

A wet, sloppy suction sound coming from the end of the rectum pulled him back from the brink of unconsciousness.

Something was happening. Something bad. Worse than the suppository, worse than the Great Brown Flood. The asshole was pulsating. Thick droplets of saliva oozed inside the anal cavity until the anus began to open, revealing a huge, pink, slimy tongue working its way in through the hole, darting in and out.

Soon it was replaced by an enormous finger, probing slowly at first but then deeper and deeper still until Filipo got to his feet and retreated backward into the safety of darkness, yet never taking his eyes off of the intruding digit.

The invading extremity struck fear into the elder Glutoid. In all his life he’d never even heard stories of some gigantic thing like this attacking his home. He never knew it possible for danger to come from outside the asshole. Filipo’s heart hammered at his chest. How stupid had he been to believe he could just leave the ass? He knew nothing. He was as ignorant of the outside world as a newborn Glutoid straight out of its mother’s outer sac. And it terrified him.

Then another titan digit worked its way in through the out hole, stretching the anus walls to their limits, obliterating its folds, smashing cowering Glutoids into smeary paste.

Filipo’s mind reeled. This was the end. Obliteration. Extinction. And all he could do was stand as a statue, crooked mouth agape as these twin monsters twisted and groped blindly as if trying to scoop out everything and everyone he’d ever known.

When they withdrew, Filipo felt no relief. He shuffled forward, looking over the dead, lingering near the maimed and mortally injured as if there was anything a one-armed old man could do for them. All he managed was to weep. He cried for his people, he cried for himself. He cried for their misery and hopelessness.

Then Marquo pushed Janet’s face into her pillow, yanked her hips up until she was stationed on her knees, spit on his huge black dick, and shoved it up her ass.

Filipo was not prepared for the gargantuan beast that rammed into the anus next. However wide the foreign fingers had stretched his home, just this cyclopean thing’s eyeless head caused it to expand to four times that width.

The creature dripped slime off of its shiny, helmet-shaped head as it burrowed deeper into the rectal cavity before retreating back, almost all the way out, only to jam itself back, even deeper still. The sheer size of the monster sent anal fissures tearing through the delicate intestinal walls, causing a rain of blood to splash down onto the scores of mangled Glutoid bodies.

Filipo along with a few dozen other able-bodied citizens raced as far back into the anus as possible, constantly falling and scrambling back to their feet from the spasming of the sphincter muscle below them. They ran and ran trying to outpace the cock-beast, but with every stroke, it burrowed deeper and deeper still until it caught up with the frantic Glutoids, ramming them, causing them to stick to its slimy head, then dragging them backward, only to thrust forward, smearing most of them against the torn and bleeding walls.

Filipo survived, somehow defying his terrible luck, by falling free from the monster dick upon its withdrawal, leaving him several seconds with which to scamper out of its reach. Breathless, he looked on in abject horror as the brutal monstrosity picked up speed and force, rocking the only home he’d ever known with shock wave after shock wave.

Filipo was screaming, but could hear nothing over the pounding of the dick monster, sliding back and forth in a lather of frothy shit, blood and ass juice until the Glutoid leader thought his brain would explode from the vibration.

And then the cock stopped, jerked twice, spasmed, and then unleashed a torrent of white fluid so great, it covered the entire length of the asshole top to bottom in three mega-spurts.

Filipo could only stare on in awe. Was this the god the priest women had warned about? Should he drop to his knees and beg its forgiveness for his heathen ways?

Before Filipo could do anything, the dick withdrew from the asshole with a sickening pop. Distorted and stretched far beyond its normal limits, the butthole did not close, instead it hung there in a ragged O shape, dripping fluids like a flooded cave mouth.

Utter shock kept Filipo frozen in place. His remaining limbs shook as tears dripped down his fucked up face. That’s when the other Glutoids began to emerge from the white gunk. They pulled themselves free of its sticky embrace and helped others away from the juice.

Eventually there were Glutoids standing all around Filipo, murmuring about what had just transpired and what to do now. Still Filipo stood as a statue, unable to unlock himself from the awful things he’d witnessed. That is, until he saw his wife standing in the crowd.

“C-Cara?” he stammered. Slowly he walked up to the bruised and sticky woman. “Honey, are you ok?”

She looked stunned, dazed. Her eyes were unfocused and stared off into the dark chasm that lead to the large intestine. Filipo put his hand on her shoulder. “Everything’s going to be all right, now.”

That’s when her body ripped in half, cleanly down the middle, and the worms attacked.

Marquo had also eaten a piece of blue pizza from Papa Jo-Jo’s on that fateful day. Only instead of developing sentient butt parasites, his sperm had been infected with a parasite of its own: killer worms.

Each worm was white and about as thick as one of Filipo’s spindly arms, but four times as long. Their color hid them in the pools of cum Marquo had left behind in Janet’s ass. All around him, Glutoids burst open. The worms tunneled out of eyeballs, noses, assholes, or simply burrowed out of chests and necks.

The shrieking of dying friends once again filled Filipo’s ears as the two halves of his wife’s body staggered around, animated by the coiled up bodies of the worms hidden inside. They stumbled toward Filipo trying to get inside his body as well.

That was it. That was his breaking point. Filipo shrieked louder than any of the mutilated people around him. He took off running toward the still gaping butthole, determined to fling himself to his death. He dodged worms as they struck out from the many puddles of Marquo’s spunk and made it to within twenty yards of his exit when the entire asshole tipped up and contracted.

As per Marquo’s request, Janet sat up, and cupped her hand under her ass. She squeezed, sharting out his jizz into a thick puddle in her hand.

“You like that, baby? Is that sexy?” she purred as she playfully licked at the mess of spunk in her palm, not realizing how many bodies of dead Glutoids and parasitic worms lay inside the puddle.

“Fuck yes,” he said, as his dick throbbed back to life. “Do it.”

Janet smirked and tossed the hand full of cum into her mouth, swallowing it with one enthusiastic gulp before Marquo stood up and mounted her face again, shoving his huge black dick in and out of her throat.

As for Filipo, well, having the worst luck in the Omniverse is a bitch. Glutoids, as I’ve already said, are a hearty folk. The stomach acid disintegrated all of Marquo’s cum and his parasitic worms, but not Filipo. Filipo’s thick carapace and ability to hold his breath for more than a day kept him from dying, even as he bobbed, face down in Janet’s belly, completely unconscious.

In fact, the Glutoid elder did not wake up until he’d been completely passed through Janet’s digestive system, finally regaining consciousness only to find himself right back where he’d started: Sitting just inside Janet’s butthole, counting down the hours until her next shit, screaming.

Filipo’s threats and curses aimed at the child-god, all alone down there up Janet’s ass, amused her to no end. She couldn’t wait until he finally died, so she could rewind time, and make him do it all over again.

***

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