Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Warty Hugeman and The Checkerboard Ladies of Planet LSD-25

“LSD orgy!” Warty screamed as he dived into the pile of entangled limbs and swollen genitalia. He swatted away jutting penises as he pulled himself over the undulating surface, toward the upraised buttocks of a Checkerboard Lady. The tangled delight of her labia reminded him of the optical art seat cloth in a Porsche 928. Warty had experiences a singular night of unsurpassed passion with a sentient Porsche 928 on the Planet of Living Fuck Cars and he was eager to relive the orgasmo-visual disorientation.

As he pulled himself through the grunting, rutting, squirting, spurting, farting, queefing, climaxing, wilting, re-engorging and flaccid fuck pit, Warty loved the feel of skin-on-skin after so much time in the timesuit. He was still wearing it, of course. It was much too dangerous to take it off, but tuned a few nanoseconds out of phase, the acid fuckers passed right through it. Warty tried to remain alert, ready to bring the suit into phase and jump away at any sign of danger, but his turgidity was distracting as it was licked, nuzzled, caressed, grabbed, rubbed, petted and slapped as he moved toward the Checkerboard Lady.

LSD was in everything on Planet LSD-25., the water, the food, the sweat and sexual fluids of every inhabitant. It was 23,246 AD and it was the height of custom planet colonization in The Milky Way. Warty had visited The Planet of Perpetual Sunrise, The Planet of No Dogshit Anywhere, The Planet of the Over-Sexualized Ape Hookers, The Planet of Aging Sideways and The Planet of Intact Males Wearing Flip-Flops so far. He skipped all the boring-sounding ones. Warty had set the nanomachines swarming in his blood to capture the LSD molecules and parse them out slowly for a continuous light trip, instead of a full on freak out. Things and people would glimmer, but he wouldn’t start firing piconukes at giant flying penises trying to drown him in cosmic semen, like that time on Hoffman’s orbital platform. He was never invited back.

As he approached The Checkerboard Lady, erect and ready to plunder her intimate geometry, she turned to him.

“Warty Hugeman, strongman out of time, man with no home, why have you come to this place?” she asked, in spectral tones.

“I am Warty Hugeman and I am here to have sex with you,” he replied. She seemed to be growing larger and larger, he tried to shake off the effect of the hallucinogen.

“It is not The Sacrament of the Holy Solvent that affects you. I am growing larger. You are a monster, Warty Hugeman, a monster stalking through time to fuck and loot all of creation. I am defending myself from you, Warty Hugeman.” She towered over him now, sinking through the stunned orgy participants until she reached solid ground. All the fucking and sucking and licking and peeing had stopped. They were all focused on the giant Checkerboard Lady and Warty Hugeman.

“There’s no need for that, baby,” he shouted up at her. “If you don’t want to get it on, I’m not going to make you. Or stay like that if you want, I like ‘em on the big side anyway.”

The Checkerboard Lady farted in reply, a thunderous sound that knocked the assembled orgyfolk to the ground. They were all laughing. It smelled like freshly mowed grass. Suddenly Warty was a child again, playing on the front porch, watching his father mow the grass. A rock kicked out from under the mower and struck Warty right above his tender eyebrow. Out of the manufactured memory, Warty reached up and felt an old scar forming on his brow.

“How are you doing this?” he yelled up at her. She was still growing. Her smallest toe was now larger than Warty. She farted again and the surrounding structures on the plain crumbled. The orgyfolk right under the blast were crushed to a paste. It smelled like the exhaust from an ancient hydrocarbon vehicle.

Warty was suddenly in a memory from high school. He was running across a busy highway, following people his own age. He knew them. Friends long dead. Warty was confused and faltered. He looked up and a car was bearing down on him. On instinct he threw himself out of the way. Not fast enough. The car clipped his leg, shattering it.

Warty snapped back to the present. He fell to the ground in agony, feeling the steel pins pushing aside bone and marrow to seat themselves in place. He groped at the small studs set into the meat of his hand. The timesuit materialized around him.

“Stop! I wasn’t going to hurt you!” he yelled, amplified by the external speakers of the suit. He couldn’t even make out her face any longer; it was simply too far away. When she spoke, it was with the voice of an angry god.


“SO I GUESS WERE NOT GOING TO FUCK?” he boomed back at her.

“DIE!” she shrieked, rending the very sky apart.

Warty vanished into the timestream, bored and intent on getting lunch.


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