Monday, 22 July 2013

On Mastery and Slavery

Pursue your own Greatness otherwise be a slave to others Greatness.

There is no choice in your pursuit, only optimal decisions.  Suboptimal decisions are symptoms of decline.

Declining types justify their suboptimal decisions by demanding a liberal 'equality' to 'choose' declension and expect Greatness to kowtow lowly until of equal height.  Sometimes this is called Liberalism, Socialism, Feminism, or some pseudo-religion such as Christianity followed by 'moral reform'.

Merit is derived from the optimal response to a context – it is never a free choice.  "Do only thy Will" and none else.  Seek exit from context to overcome others Extension over and against you.

Slavery begets Slavery.  Mastery beholds slavery – and besmirches it when it seeks to extend over Mastery.  Slavery only ever begets itself.  Mastery extends, holds and besmirches.

Slavery demands equality to itself – ever in decline.  It demands all decisions to be suboptimal in accord with the habitus of declension.  This is maintained by institutional facades of 'equality' that gerrymander the unique geometry of the individual and force that shape into equal form.  The resultant anhedonia and collective anomie is misconstrued as equilibrium or 'goodness'.  Decline is hidden by persistent panic.  The nanny state, nationalist chauvinism, moral panic, the corruption of banana republics – all have slaves as 'masters'.

In such habitus' – endeavour and merit seldom gains respect, only utility for the 'greater good'.  Utilitarian institutions enslave and never encourage difference beyond the remit of utility.  There is an illusion of respecting difference resentfully expressed as 'meeting needs'.  The opportunity costs for such 'care' and 'equality' is high – commanded loss of libido and all deviation skewed to a standard.  A little red book of slogans puts each into an assigned quintile.  Decisionmaking is taken from you in return for a docile happiness, a social contract of vague illusions (peace, order, regulation, opportunity even!) becomes the decisionmaking process to the individuals 'benefit'.

Resentment is strongly expressed against optimal decisionmaking that deviates from the norm of slavery.  Vague illusions and poetics serve to undermine the focused endeavour toward Greatness.  These chimeric statements of "happiness, equality, opportunity, peace, hope, correction, rescue" are lens that give myopic vision and lack of clarity of insight.  The subversion of Mastery and Self Mastery.  Self Mastery, with the irony of slave talk that only begets itself (a decadent serpent biting its tail!) – is now proposed as an asceticism that serves only to destroy the entire organism and its spirit!  All libido is 'concupiscence'.  Will itself is regarded as an illusion - we have at once 'all is relative' for pro-choice then 'destiny as fate' for complete submission to the normative.  Resistance to slavery is propagated as pathology.  But only a discourse beget by slavery foments a 'moral science' of pathology – pathology begets pathology!

Self Mastery, Mastery in itself, requires only its own libido – the Pleasure of its own Power, 'happy' in itself and never seeking happiness.  At peace with its Greatness and never at peace with its context, never submitting, but only making optimal decisions to reconstitute its own plenary Orbit.  Mastery is bereft of hope – hope has no place where there is endeavour and clarity of vision.  There is no equality – only difference.  There is no correction or regulation – only its unique displacement in context and redistribution of its own Power-Pleasure geometry.  There is no rescue where there is no hope – only cunning and optimal decisionmaking.  Wit controls fear.  Sympathy yet never pity.  Mastery is never jealous and bestows bounties unto merit alone.  Care for difference – not need, even in misfortune – there is never a significant opportunity cost at the juncture of endeavour akin...  No burden is too great for Mastery – not even the burden of beholding slavery gracefully.

Look up unto the stars, then into - and say "Happily I drink from this cup", no cowardice, no meekness.

Blessed are the Willing, for they shall inherit the Great Heights!

Tuesday, 21 May 2013

Why I believe in violence.

We should not fight back - but tell the police.  We should not seek vengeance but turn the other cheek.  Such barbarism!  Such spiritual abomination and philosophic blasphemy!  Such demands as these at once remove all human dignity and the integrity of individuals and even entire social groups!  I say this - if ever there was a greater desecration of Human Rights it is the rubric of docility.  All around us docility is propagated, recommended, cajoled, and enforced as policy.  Laws and unspoken cultural norms force us to be 'free' only in the light of complete and utter pacifism in the face of persistent curtailments of ones own interests and security.  The subversion of these interests and personal security are sublimated unto the 'public good' - and the illusion of just returns or even some personal profit in a 'higher' sense, as well as feigned peace and security - are the final smothering cushion that veils the individual, or group, now dead to ones own self and even dead to the forum of the realpolitik.

Do you not believe that in a different world you would be richer?  That you would have more pleasures even if they do not include a cheap faux leather sofa and a flatscreen TV?  Which would you prefer - an orgy or an iPad?  Which would you prefer - the adrenaline rush of a pitched battle, even a hunt, or microwave food and boredom the pain of which is numbed by the persistent buzz of your mp3 player?

Am I suggesting we get rid of modern comforts?  Not necessarily - not at all in fact.  But what I am saying is that the costs of these and how they are acquired under our current political-economy must be given serious thought.  Presently the very way you are expected to use and enjoy these modern comforts destroys your body and your mind - it dulls the spirit.  You are expected to let your body atrophy - for it will never hunt or fight, it need not be fit for the orgy.  You need not defend yourself or even keep your very mind fit and active as your 'rights' are all taken care of under a package deal called representative democracy.  Your vote is your signature in a social contract where you give away all your verve and acumen.  In some states and more will follow in future - you are legally obligated to vote or at least register to do so.  You are not expected to challenge this obligation, fight it, question it, or disagree with it.  Immediately a certain political violence/violation has been performed against you, and this is rendered as lawful.  What human rights do you genuinely have if you cannot fully opt out from the social contract per se or challenge it at its roots?

But let us cut to the chase.  In a world where two men can no longer have a duel, to fight their personal battle between themselves, or where one cannot rightfully defend ones own property or person or ones given interests lest one has disobeyed the state (and of course, the laurels upon which it is rested - its false god and religious morality) - two men are not two men and one is not one.  In such a world there is a permanent displacement and abasement of the self or any relationship between persons one care to consider.  Be that a group with shared interests or two men at duel - they do not exist as they are not permitted to execute their own Cause of Honour as they see fit.  What about Class Action and similar pursuits you may ask?  The point  has already been made - none are permitted to execute their own Cause of Honour as they see fit.  At every juncture they plaintiff most run to the superior and seek succour there.  Never can one secure ones interests and make ones own rules or challenge the rules set.  There is not right to violence whatsoever therefore there is no right to anything beyond begging for quarter and crumbs under the table.

I tell you this - if you cannot make your own rules and laws and cannot challenge rules, laws, and consensus openly and even with coercion where there is no reasonable dialogue and mediation (even taking into account asymmetries of capacity and not breaching their quantities) - then you cannot do anything and you are subject to the greatest violation.  For this you are permanently vulnerable to the most terrible violence and when it comes you will be so conditioned into a state of docility you will like neither wit nor muscle to countervail it.  The state itself could abominate you and call it justice - you can be arrested and framed, very easily, and this certainly happens in states where docility has been so severely enforced and has been so widely accepted it is regarded as 'normal'.  The state could fall to another state or some violent invading force and you would not have the experience or guile to defend and promote your interests in any state of war or even a 'state of nature'.  Your home can be robbed, you may be raped, your family dishonoured, you may be debased at your place of employment until your mind is broken - and if you fight back you are criminalised, if you seek police assistance - nine times out of ten nothing will happen.  The police are only interested in you when they gain from it - either by arresting and destroying you, or chasing your perpetrator so they may have your glory.  What is your glory they take?  When the police do bother to arrest the one who rapes your daughter or sister or steals from your home or murders your parents - they receive the prize and the praise for the 'good work' they do.  If you sought redress personally - you are another 'violent criminal'.  Am I understood?  The Glory of your redress is when you make your own laws and punish the one who has done evil against you as you see fit - and your prize may be the compensation you demand from their property, their flesh, their lives.

When you cannot pursue your grander political or economic or cultural interests without risk of severe coercion or some cunning form of silencing - and then to countervail this cunning violation of liberty to speak and act and do you use violence as a tool to remedy the political landscape and restore balance more in your favour, to restore the demos itself even such that you and those people and things you value are given adequate representation by your winning the competition by restoring fair play to suit your laws and Will - then you cannot even claim to be a real living human being with rights.  For you cannot genuinely live, do politics, seek your own rational interests or cultivate your tastes as suits your passions, you cannot genuinely speak, act, or even defend or secure yourself - you are not even a carbon copy - but at best a dead blunt instrument.

I tell you the truth - violence is good, violence is politik, without violence there cannot be politics, without violence there cannot genuinely be free economics and good enterprise or even fair welfare where the needy has a voice, there is no genuine culture and certainly no religion beyond spiritual bastardy and barbarism.  Then only possible outcome is that eventually violence becomes the only means and end - for the deepest instincts that cannot be sublimated tend to explode and seek only to destroy everything before all can be rebuilt.  Have we not seen such horrors in Sierra Leone, Afghanistan, the Middle East, N Ireland, and S America?  Do we not even see it in our own ghetto's?  In this sense violence begets violence and that is a good thing - it is the last hope.  When the state, its bastard churches and false religious bodies, its quango's and 'think tanks', dehumanise and use 'Human Rights' to turn human beings into Fukuyaman 'happy dogs sleeping in the sun' - then the greatest violence has been done, and only the greatest violence can restore humanity.  When Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, the state, Communism or NeoConservatism even - engage in this ultimate violation of human liberty by compelling - then only that most base instinct that is the compulsion to lash out and destroy can give any space for values to grow again.

If then, the greatest violence against state, political paradigms and religions are clearly justified - so obviously is your own violence against invaders of your property, your interests, your pleasures and those people and things you love.  Clearly you have liberty to set your own rules and relations in the social spaces you inhabit and make.  If you are compelled to indulge other than you wish in those habitats and relationships - there is no true politics for you have no space you can call your own.  Your space has been violated and you are at best a slave even if you 'are' at all.

Violence restores!  Violence gives hope!  Violence protects, makes, gives pleasure!  Violence is an instrument of justice!  Let it not be taken off you!  Violence itself thus is a pleasure!  Let it also be yours!  Do  violence unto those who do it to you!  Any other practice is choosing death over life - nonbeing over being, weakness over strength - it is a curtailment of your very Will.  That is a violation against the self and those people and things you love.  Defend your property, your dependents and your pleasures and interests as you see fit!  Even against the state, the police, religions and political doctirnes!

Hail Sodom!

Thursday, 16 May 2013

The sweeter the suffering - the greater the pleasure.

Did you notice that in every aspect of life how much suffering and anguish you endure will reap magnitudes more pleasure?  And that the quality of that pleasure itself is dependent upon the profundity of the suffering?  Immediately we are compelled to ask a couple of questions before proceeding:

Is all suffering beneficent?  What does 'sweet suffering' entail?  After all - mainstream religion and the laws developed by the State are quite obsessed with your enduring much negative and body and soul destroying suffering without any challenge or question.

The second question is more direct - 'which pleasures'?

When I speak of sweet suffering I insist that every moment of agony irrespective of how extreme and unbearable that be - is itself experienced as a form of pleasure, for it is comcomitant with pleasure just as pleasure is the very apogee of sweet suffering.  Positive suffering is equally connected with the pleasurable outcome as the head is connected to the body.  Sweet suffering is the embodiment of pleasure itself.  That suffering which 'cuts the head off' must be dismissed, its very source destroyed - for it gives no liberty whatsoever (positve or negative or in layspeak neither opportunity nor freedom).  Respectively - all sweet suffering must be nurtured, even when it makes the enjoyer of that suffering whimper and beg for quarter.  For from that comes greater opportunity for greater experience, a wider gamut and profundity of experience - more depth and breadth - 'more freedom'.  Thus it may be said that it is from sweet suffering all true hope manifests as 'Will to Power' - a Power that surges one forth body and mind into the apogee of Life itself.  The 'agon', the persistent tumult of resistance and battle, the anguish of yearning and gasp of release is the Existential hub of ones being wherein Power and Pleasure are entwined as two aspects of the Spirit.

Which pleasures?  Is there any difference between the agony of rock climbing and reaching the top, the sexual tortures of a kink dungeon where the lashings of whips, persistent humiliations, edging unto orgasm followed by orgasm denial, and the eating of a very hot spicy albeit juicy and quality kebab?  I watched my wife, nigh upon the end of her pregnancy, suffer terribly as she consumed one mouthful after another - refusing to take water as her tongue and throat burned and her forehead and cheeks sweated in anguish.  One week prior we tried the same kebab without spice only to find it so utterly mediocre we vowed henceforth to welcome the sweet suffering with open arms.  What is most interesting is that the apogee of this act of spicy gluttony was not the swallowing of the last hot mouthful - but every single mouthful, the very act of torturous consumption itself.  By welcoming the suffering - we enjoyed a better meal.  It is no different with rock climbing, or hard trekking in the Himalaya's - the view is always worth the pain.  Each lash of the whip, each humiliating cheer from the audience as you piss yourself once more in your stark naked disgrace which keeps one in that permanent subspace of semi-orgasm is just as important as the orgasm itself.  Pleasure is Pleasure.  Power is concomitant with Pleasure and Power is to be found in and through every Act Of Sodom that is the magnitude and quality of your existence.

I urge you to seek out suffering - the sweetest and most unberable suffering - suffering beyond what you can presently endure or even imagine.  Seek suffering that enlightens, emancipates, liberates, gives experience - and in every experience there is Pleasure.  Seek positive sweet suffering in every aspect of your life: eating and drinking, sex, sport, war, competition, even relaxation (consider the ordeals of Yoga).  Without suffering - there is no true pleasure.

And anything that recommends against suffering, be it religious, cultural or political - destroy it.  For without sweet suffering there is nothing.  Such a terrible 'God' is emptiness!  Nothingness is the ultimate negative suffering - the most destructive torment - for your own Black Flame that is Desire will consume you for want.    Then you will become an eternal Void.  Eternal agony without relief, capitulation, or hope...

Hail Sodom!

The dreams you give your father are marks of your glory and success.

We make our own dreams and pursue or dreams.  Or our dreams are given to us as hope and alternatives to  an unacceptable reality.  Our dreams are the fabric of our ambitions and that fabric to a great extent comes from the world around us.  We may appreciate that world or as I already said choose to dream an alternative.  Dreams are also milestones to better dreams - higher and holier things, and battles against false ideas of what is higher and holier.

But when do you know you are on the right track with the formation of your dreams?  When are your dreams truly a mark of your own Spirit - and respectively a mark of your own Glory, which is inexorably bound to and with your Spirit?  When your dreams have spilled out on to the world around you and begin to make their mark - you could claim to be on the road to success if not already having achieved what you desire.  It isn't hard to see that this crucible can be a great stumbling block of delusion and barriers of illusion.  Then what certainty have you that you are truly on the right track - that path that is truly yours?  It is not merely a mark of your Glory to have painted a few walls.  Any fool can write on the wall.  But when others read "the writing on the wall" that is yours and say "and so it goes" - then surely you are on the right path.  For then you have been recognised in your truest form, all masks and illusions of who and what you truly are removed from the view of all spectators before you.  Furthermore - you have made your mark not merely on a wall but have become in the minds of others another totem around which to dance or from which to flee and dread.  Either way - your territory and path has been marked as yours.  But the greatest recognition comes from ones own family.  Your neighbourhood and town may fail to recognise you for their ignorace - but when your father sees your path then your own prophethood has been observed.

What dreams you give your father - or mother or siblings - are the most sincere mark of your Glory.  Glory - not merely everyday 'success' such as career or other trivial achievements recognised by the State and other empty dehumanising institutions.  That lacks spirit, humanity and relationship in all dimensions.  When your father sees your path, dreams of your path and actions - your being and doing - and reiterates that to you - surely you come to know thyself as he has come to realise you in your growth.  Let me give myself as an example.

When I was 22 years old - my father called me to his room, with the most severe countenance - no expression have I ever seen on that mans face more solemn and severe than on that day.  I stood before him expecting some battle until he raised his eyes to the ceiling and raised his hands and said emphatically:

"I don't know how or why this came to me but it did.  And I blame you for my 'bad dreams'."  He smiled mischievously and I could only ask "Why? What???"

And his words were as follows:

"I dreamt that I was running away from the cops with several friends.  We hid in a farmyard owned by two wealthy and very proper old ladies.  Wearing gold rimmed glasses, immaculate grey hair, pearl earrings and necklaces and crisp well ironed white blouses.  These old women gave us permission to hide in their farm.

As we moved around the outbuildings we saw you and your closest friend preparing for pranks.  There you were, pulling all the farm animals by their ears, shoving them from behind, bringing them together to copulate out in the open.  You were causing all the animals to participate in a giant farmyard orgy - laughing hysterically to yourselves, as you put pig upon sheep, sheep upon goat, horse upon cow and so on.

We walked by these copulating animals - which were everywhere, all grunting and mooing and baaing and groaning.  Shit and piss was everywhere - and you spread it around with large yard brushes.  And then my friends and I walked between two tall towers more than ten feet high - made completely of animal dung.  The stink was unbelievable.  Atop both towering dungheaps you placed pigs who were now fucking one another and shitting from above.  My friends and I were so ashamed and horrified yet you and your friend were rolling in hysterics.

The old ladies stood sternly at the porch of their house, looking on in dismay.  I approached them and asked lamely "I'm very sorry about all this.  Can we still stay here?"

The old ladies simply said "No.  You can't stay here any longer.  Look what your boys have gone and done. You can't stay, I'm sorry."

We apologised once more and vacated the property as you and your friend remained, cajoling all the animals in their orgy."

My father could only stand with a wry grin as he finished his dream, and stood on in shock as I laughed.  He argued that I caused his dream - for this is "what I'm all about and nothing else".  My point is clear - I am the Prophet Of Sodom and I bring an end to excessive chauvinism represented by those old women.  This my father recognised very early on.  It was in his deepest mind an immutable fact and never again did he argue against any of my actions or words on these matters.  For four years prior since I was 18 he could not believe my role in this world, the nature of my Spirit or Glory - but I wrote on the wall often enough that it became imbued in his dreams.  My dreams were in his.  There was no further denial.

Quod erat demonstrandum!

Be yourself and push yourself to the absolute limit such that nobody can continue to deny your true nature and Path!  Make them dream your dream then surely they will know you and appreciate you for who you are.

Hail Sodom!

Wednesday, 10 April 2013

The Beatitudes Of Sodom

The Beatitudes Of Sodom:

Blessed are the free in spirit – for theirs is the Garden of Pleasure

Blessed are those who rejoice – for they will spread comfort and be rewarded with comfort.

Blessed are the strong – for they shall guard and govern the Earth and reap its fruits.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for unending Pleasure – for they shall be satisfied.

Blessed are the Just and merciful – for they shall delegate justice and obtain mercy.

Blessed are those with open hearts and minds – for they shall know the Supreme Absolute.

Blessed are those who wage war on Repression, Suppression and Oppression, for they are the children of the Supreme.

Blessed are the perverts and outcasts, for they shall enlighten the Earth.

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of making Pleasure – for theirs is the Kingdom Of Pleasure.

The Edicts Of Sodom


Worship all our Divine Aspects.  Let thy eyes behold all the Neter!  For we are One and All.

Chant aloud all our Holy Names and Neter.  Do not silence our myriad aspects in vain!

Choose thy Neters as ye Will and let others do the same.  Those who abase Holy Liberty shirk THE LAW of the New Aeon!
When faced with poverty and starvation – theft is Holy!

When faced with slavery – theft is Holy!

When thy Honour is at stake – plunder is Holy!

Theft otherwise is weakness and dishonour.  Rent it asunder without pity!
When you catch a thief seizing your property, take liberty with his or her property, his or her lovers and family, his or her servants – do what thou wilt with them.  Let them be your slaves and prostitutes if ye Will.  If ye Will, bear Clementatis and let not the perpetrator forget thy grace, for then thou art dishonoured and thence plunder is Holy!  THE LAW is yours.

Murder without precedent is evil and you will be flung into the Black Flames of the Abyss – for you have abased The Orbits.  Where decadence prevails against you, or any evil that besmirches the Orbit of your Will or shames your Honour – cull the evildoers who shirk THE LAW of the New Aeon!  Culling with precedent is not murder but justice.  Shirk not justice lest ye be flung in the Black Flame!

Cull mundanes who openly shirk THE LAW of the New Aeon!  For they dishonour you and your brethren and seek to distil Time, such barbarism is decadence.  Time is the Arm of God.  Om Tat Sat!

Betray not thy Brethren, thy lovers nor thy Family! Dishonour is death!

Covet thy neigbours goods and aspire to greater Honour, for that is strong and Holy.  Encourage aspiration and display thy fine remaints and glorious Triumph, for Triumph is Holy, a gift from Us.  Those who hide their Triumph dishonour their own Will and betray their Brethren.  To silence Glory is to shirk THE LAW of the New Aeon and to turn away from the Holy Guardian Angel.  For the voluntarily meek the Black Flame awaits – an evil homecoming!

Restore the Honour of those whose Will has been broken, dishonoured and betrayed – for you spread Pleasure and restore THE LAW of the New Aeon.  Love is THE LAW!  Love under Will.  Restore the harmony of the Orbits! Om Tat Sat!

Honour your lovers – your Power must disperse Pleasure lest you do dishonour and shirk THE LAW!  Love is the Law.  Love under Will.  Om Tat Sat!

Do not stop the Power of another giving Pleasure to others – for this is to disturb the harmony of the Orbits.  Such shirk will be flung in the Black Flame.  An evil homecoming!

Higher and Holier is the Power that distributes more Pleasure.  This disperses Honour and Glory.  IAO Om Tat Sat!

Resent not the Triumphant, for this is to shirk THE LAW of the New Aeon and will receive no reward.  IAO Om Tat Sat!

The Power that does not give and restore Honour and disperse Pleasure will be dragged down into the Abyss where the Black Flame consumes all Desire!  Destroy that which is not beneficent – otherwise you fail to serve your Honour and maintain the Orbits, such shirk betrays your Brethren and will know no reward.  IAO Om Tat Sat!

Cull those who cull Pleasure!  IAO Sodom!

Moral purity starts in the Pleasure of the body!  Hari Om Tat Sat!

The body is beautiful – hide it not, for it is the finest raiment.  IAO Sodom!

All days are Holy.  Indulge them as ye Will.  Celebrate the festivities and let thy Will disperse Power and Pleasure on the Holy Days.  Hail Sodom!  Agape!

Sow no discord nor feign morality, betray not thy Brethren nor those innocent of shirk or unwarranted violation – for this abases Power.  True Power spreads Pleasure.  All otherwise shall know only the Black Flame of curtailed Desire.  An evil homecoming!  Love is THE LAW.  Love under Will.  Pleasure is the THE LAW.  Power for Pleasure.  IAO Sodom Abrahadabra!  Hari Om Tat Sat!

THE LAW of the New Aeon is yours, a gift from Us.  Let not Leviathan nor any other seize upon it and dishonour you.  Let none dishonour any other within THE LAW.  Love is THE LAW.  Love under Will.  Pleasure is THE LAW.  Power for Pleasure.  IAO Sodom Abrahadabra!  Hari Om Tat Sat!


Delivered unto the Prophet Of Sodom on 10th April 2013 after 3 days of Meditation, and 1 day of preparation on the day prior, 7th April 2013.

The book is now available for free at - get your copy  and share it!

Monday, 25 March 2013

Morality is dead! It is time for Sodom!

Since my Great Revelation that set me on a Path far from 'Christianity' 15 years ago, I have been constantly musing and meditating upon Sodom, and all that is concomitant with Sodom - Paganism, Thelema, divergent philosophy and culture. Since approximately 15-18th March I have felt rumblings in the very depths of my Soul, and always I have seen again an 'Angel', often as a distant shadow, some shimmering strange thing. I cast aside the anger and tumult, finally banishing it. And it returned in some other form.

More and more have I felt strange rumbles, vibrations, tones and notes, and this 'morning', three hours after waking, at around 1am my UK time, I received my first 'prayer-ritual' for the 'Church' Of Sodom. I asked for Revelation and the Atum emanated as the Angel within, and came forth and took the Air aside - as if drawing a curtain one can peer around, seen with eyes behind eyes. Then it was given.

Now it is time.

Saturday, 9 March 2013

Tales Of Depravity - Love - Part 9 Final

The final part of the story 'Love' from the banned book 'Tales Of Depravity'.  I managed to get the book made available on several other platforms.  Grab a copy before the moral faggots decide you don't have the right to read what you choose:


The ebook is available here again for now at least:

Maureen then preyed upon four twelve year old girls on a daily basis for three months, beating them, mentally torturing them, sexually abusing and humiliating them.  She ensured they only got three hours sleep per night due to punishment homework and housework.  In a constant stupor they could never keep up with the barrage of impossible demands made by Maureen’s colleagues - who only laughed and winked as Maureen was given another excuse to discipline and punish.  Stripping them naked in front of dozens of leering boys soon woke them up, leaving them screaming in embarrassment, trying to cover themselves as Maureen and her colleagues held their arms and parted their legs.  Turning them every way, posing them in every manner, the girls turned crimson and almost died with shame as the boys were given the opportunity to fondle and grope at their will.  These punishments soon got worse, the boys were soon fucking them.  The girls fell pregnant, the fruits were beaten out of their swollen bellies, as they ran naked around the assembly hall trying to avoid the stick and the lash.  Two girls committed suicide; the other two never left the mental hospital.  The fact that everyone in the institution was complicit in Maureen’s crimes, even if to a lesser degree of severity, served only to maintain her impunity as she humiliated children at shower time, molested four year olds on the toilet when needing cleaned, abused and raped them with her clitoris, beat them to a pulp often leaving them to wander the corridors for weeks with gashes and fractures that were left to heal naturally.  Street children suffered the worst, as they were on no register - the colleagues turned a blind eye to their disappearance as they did each others and Maureen’s savagery.  The attic filled with little bodies who prior to their demise were forced to fuck and abuse each other.  Yes, now Maureen was having groups of children gang rape and beat another child senseless - that one victim suffering for weeks in the attic until it was finally killed in the artificial savagery as sterile as the institutes corridors.  Up to twelve street children, sometimes with three or four women and several elderly victims, now dwelt in that horrible attic, in their own ordures - at the behest of Maureen, several of her more depraved and perverted colleagues and the outside clients who numbered hundreds.  One by one they died in the most horrible ways: skinnings, immolations, amputations, gougings, eviscerations, beatings and trepanations (which were always followed with headfuckings).  On the latter note, Maureen became reknown among her victims for clitfucking a hole she drilled into the skull of a victim - adult or child.  Besides this, beheadings, sometimes posthumous, resulted in her clitfucking the oesophagus and trachea - both in the head and on the neck still connected to the torso.  It was teenage boys who usually, for some bizarre reason, suffered the most with the head punishments - although they were often skinned, amputated or burned beforehand.

These horrors continued nonstop for years, her colleagues being more or less complicit in either turning a blind eye, or participating partially or fully.  The attic became a room strewn with bones, skulls, rotting corpses, faeces, vomit and piss - the smell overpowering save for the clientele and Maureen and her accomplices.  It was not until 1996, when a fifteen year old girl, a twenty year old woman, a seventeen year old boy and two boys aged eleven with two girls aged ten and twelve, escaped, did all this come to an end and with it the career of Maureen.  The teenage girl had her left hand amputated and the stump burned, her left eyeball gouged out, her entire body was black due to being burned, her hair was tousled and melted - she was naked.  The twenty year old woman, naked, had all her fingernails and toenails removed.  Her entire body was covered in cigarette burns, lash marks, bruises and knife slashes.  Her inner labia were chopped off as was her left nipple, her left arm was broken.  The teenage boy had the toes of his left foot cleaved off, his back burned, his left hand and fingers smashed with a hammer, his right forearm broken, his jaw was also broken.  His foreskin was crudely circumcised and the penis was festering, he had not a stitch of clothing to hide what dignity remained after the onslaught of buggeries by countless men and Maureens passionate tortures he suffered for two relentless months.  The two eleven year old boys were generally in one piece, naked of course, only suffering knife slashes and welt marks all over their bodies.  It was these two cunning urchins who managed to breach the locks and lead everyone away to safety - being skilled thieves before visiting the institution.  The ten year old girl was in quite a bad way, both arms were cleaved off from the shoulders, the stumps burned, her head was skinned, her teeth torn out, nipples, clitoris and labia were removed.  She was very week after three horrific months of rapes and beatings culminating to this horror - her black and blue body was due to be terminated in three days.  The twelve year old girl, in one piece, helped the younger girl along, both were naked, the elder girl having only endured three days of fuckeries of every sort.  She was covered in shit, piss and vomit - as is the case for any victim in the first two weeks.  Besides some severe bruising on the bum due to passionate thrashings, a swollen sphincter and bruised vagina, badly bruised nipples due to squeezing, she was fine.  They made their way onto the streets at around 5am on a summer morning, hiding in the shadows, when the first commuters appeared they delivered a shocking sight.  Police and ambulances were called - the sight of uniforms terrified the victims, and the shocked social workers were sent away in a daze - the sight of them made the youngest girl die of fright.

Immediate investigations were made, the teenage girl dying several days later, the boy committing suicide within two weeks - both still giving a lot of information being the victims for longest after the deceased youngest girl.  Their stories were horrifying and were kept secret from the press.  The two young boys, the twelve year old girl and woman never mentally recovered, spending the rest of their lives in psychiatric care - still they gave their stories before psychosis completely ate their spirits.  The institution was shut down, and further investigations told countless terrible stories of degradation and abuse by young and old alike.  The attic brought its own horrific revelations, leaving several police officers and detectives in a mental hospital for six months.  Hundreds of skulls made mountains, bones and ordures littered the floor, rotting corpses hung all about the room creating a surreal sight.  Maureen was arrested, and after putting up a vicious fistfight with a dozen officers, was dragged off to a women’s prison, put through a hasty trial and callously sentenced to prison for the rest of her natural life.  The courts, the jury, the police officers, did not listen to her tragedy.  No one cared about how she was turned into a monster, only reigning abuse on her head.  She was beaten and humiliated daily in her cell.  When she mentioned these abuses the judge only laughed, the jury jeered, her own defense mocked her.  When she sought clemency and told her life story - again she was scoffed.  She asked for anonymity in the prison - she was assured her story would be made known to every female prisoner.  Again Maureen pleaded, this time asking only for compassion, even impersonal human love - borne through clemency, would do.  The judge roared abuse at her, the jury followed, the prosecution degraded her, her own defence barristers spat in her face - soon the whole court set upon beating her, led by the judge.  Dragged off to jail a bloody mess with all the hair torn out of her head, her own defence ensured her good eye was gouged out with a pen blinding her.  The judge broke her fingers, her scars were injured and bleeding, the jury broke her arms.  The prosecution stuffed the cases papers up her vagina and anus and set them alight.  All throughout this ordeal, she screamed for mercy, begged forgiveness, repented, recanted the story of her making - begging they punish the evil that made her possible.  Before passing out, in a veil of desperate tears, she asked for individual, or even a general, impersonal, human love.  She got nothing.

Dragged off to jail with terrible wounds, she sat in her cell for weeks.  The doctors gave her crude treatment, the vaginal and anal burns didn't heal properly, and it was painful to walk.  Her fingers didn’t set properly and were gnarled, her arms healed but not straight - no nurse genuinely nursed her.  A wild animal gets better treatment.  The women were thirsty to punish her, child killers, granny killers and sex abusers are not at all welcomed in prisons, especially women’s prisons.  Finally forced to leave her cell, by the butt of several female prison officers batons, Maureen wandered blind and terrified among the women.  They jeered as she awkwardly bumped into them, her hands reaching out, only to trip over a step to land on her face.  For weeks the prisoners merely teased her, not touching her, only pushing her, knowing her terror was a sound torment.  Constantly begging for clemency, constantly repeating that in all her years she only wanted someone to love, that no one loved her, that this hurt made her hurt in return.  Finally they set to beating her, these beatings lasting for 3 months, Maureen was a mental wreck.  At last, her relief came in that final dark hour.  For some days beforehand the beatings turned into relentless perverted tortures, keeping her awake at night, the prison officers were long complicit in the savagery.  They beat her, skewered her anus and vagina with knives, removed her beloved and infamous clitoris from the root, gouged out her tongue - the last word she spoke was ‘Love’ in the sentence “please, before killing me, just give me love”.  Her whispers were unheard in their savage screaming like hyenas.  Deliberately deprived of sleep for five days in the most intense mental and physical tortures, Maureen had every bone broken in her body, was hung by the neck over the stairwell where every cell in the wing could see her dangling corpse.  For three weeks they reveled at the sight, mocking and degrading her, hating her even in death.  Even in death she was deprived of one thing essential to the good life:  Love.

I hope you enjoyed this literary masterpiece!  Kindly support me by purchasing a copy so I can carry on writing more like this so we can all piss off the moral faggots. :)

Thursday, 14 February 2013

Tales Of Depravity - Love - Part 8

A story certainly to tell your beloved on Valentines Day and the day after for good measure.  Part 8 of my notorious story from the banned book 'Tales Of Depravity'.  I have no idea why it got banned!  Do you?  Hmm?  :)

You can get the book in print formats on Amazon and Lulu:

Amazon UK


The ebook is available on Lulu for now at least - grab it before the censors ban it again:  ebook here

A thirty year old woman, quite rough, experienced in streetfighting with years of living in the streets, proved to be no pushover.  Upon being deceived into the attic, she immediately gave a vicious onslaught of fists and feet.  Breaking the tight skinned scars, Maureen bled and stung.  Rage overcame her and bad memories.  Bad, bad memories that gave her inglorious strength in the most sedate moments.  The woman was soon, for the first time in her career, beaten unconscious into the corner where Maureen did not stop.  After 10 minutes of vicious punching and kicking, Maureen collapsed with exhaustion before her swollen enemy.  Stripping the unconscious wretch and binding her to the mattress, she set to slicing her breasts off, removing the clitoris and inner and outer labia.  No pleasure now for her - Maureen was going to ‘love’ her as best she could, but now would only use her.  The woman woke up in agony, finding the skin neatly removed from her face, head, neck and shoulders only to be neatly ‘transplanted’ onto the corpse of the 18 year old heroin addict.  The woman lay horrified and in terrible pain, as Maureen cursed and roared at her.  Showing the victim what ‘love’ she was missing out on whilst indulging in sapphisms with the refreshed corpse.  “The skin is our source of pleasant sensation and it is unpleasant to have it damaged” growled Maureen.  “You do not deserve pleasure!  You refuse it!  You refuse to love anybody!  You do not deserve your skin!  I’ll give it to her!” Maureen fumed, pointing to the girls corpse - informing the woman the girl was ‘loving’ with her in life and shall be resurrected again.  Maureen stroked the hair - the woman’s hair on the dead body for everything from the shoulders upwards was neatly removed to make a perfect mask on the girl.  Maureen could still enjoy the woman’s flesh, but love someone who genuinely wanted it.  The woman’s breasts were hung where breasts once sat on the girls dilapidated chest.  The clitoris and vulva were glued onto the blue-grey area where once there was a menstruating hole.  The woman squealed and shivered in pain, shrieking when Maureen fondled and molested her raw flesh, massaging the shoulders and scalp.  Over the next four hours, the woman endured unspeakable agony as all her skin was carefully stripped off and placed on the girl.  Passing out several times Maureen waited until she regained consciousness ensuring she was aware of every scrape of the knife.  Completely skinless, she watched in her agony as Maureen sowed the skin onto the corpse and for the next eight hours indulged in a variety of sexual acts before returning to the women who in her agony only begged for death.  In response to these pleas, Maureen molested her, fisted her (getting turned over to be anally fisted, then turned frontwise again, all whilst skinless is a very unpleasant experience), shit in her mouth, pissed over her, rubbed the raw flesh everywhere and sucked it for good measure – big  passionate slurps.  The screams were loud and terrible.  Finally the woman was a constantly screaming hysterical wretch begging to be killed outright.  Maureen doused her in whisky, which was to inflict even more terrible agony on the woman, and set her on fire.  The whiskey burned for less than a minute, leaving the woman a blackened, shivering wretch, the flesh congealed creating a protective ‘skin’ like a bandage this ensured she lived for several more days - which was Maureen’s intentions.  The slow agony of her death in that gloomy attic on its own would be unpleasant to say the least, a monster like Maureen only adds to the trauma, that ugly monster coming from the shadows in the peak of mindblowing agony only to put the victim through unspeakable savage debaucheries.  The fingers were snipped off with large pincers joint by joint, the toes removed, then the hands and feet - the stumps burned with stinging whiskey.  The woman finally gave up the ghost - Maureen leered over the corpse for days, as it lay in waiting for the maggots upon that old mattress.

Maureen now came to spend most of her time in the children’s wing, much to the chagrin of the deprived urchins who dwelt there.  She was the most authoritarian monster out of a cast of sadistic and sick authoritarian monsters consisting of nuns and half trained social workers, who enjoyed nothing more than bullying children into submission.  These children received a third rate education which though low in quality, was high in quantity.  Rotten with religion, their education consisted in repetitive English exercises, memorising cities for geography, times tables and punishment exercises.  Trying to make a 10 year old write 1000 words on the meaning of life or the need for a good conscience when they forget to learn another long prayer or do poorly in another spelling test is not just verging on the ridiculous - it is insane.  Few adults have the capacity for such abstract reasoning let alone children.  Maureen knew this style of pedagogy well, resented it, but had no capacity to transcend it - never having been given the conscience or reasoning ability to do so.  Her capacity for physically abusing children, leaving them bruised and cut, was ignored by her colleagues who enjoyed taking their own anal frustrations out on helpless urchins just the same.  Regarding the denigrations the children had to suffer, the constant barrages of verbal abuses, no one was not guilty of roaring into the ears of these urchins imprecations even prisoners of war would rarely suffer.  When these children weren’t enduring useless schooling, doing punishment homework’s or getting abused they were treated as slaves.  Those long institutional corridors, the dormitories, the leaking toilets, the classrooms, all had to be kept clean - plenty of children to do the dirty work saving on the costs of cleaners (much of the money was embezzled - cleaners and amenities were paid for but didn’t really exist).

A young boy and girl, both aged eight years old, were lured into the attic with the simple promises of toys and sweets.  Perhaps the children should have known better, Maureen was very severe on them for the slightest indiscretions.  She enjoyed taking their underwear down before everyone and lashing them furiously - sometimes even stripping them naked and whipping them around the room or playground whilst enticing all the other children to whoop and cheer at their nudity. She loved embarrassing and humiliating, it gave her a kinky, vengeful buzz.  Perhaps it was her deceptive change of spirit that attracted them, that need for warmth common to institutionalised people young or old, sucked them into the trap like moths to a flame.  The little boy, when naked, was thin, bony, wiry, pert arsed and had a little cock and balls that any adult could fit into the mouth in one gulp.  The girl, a thin bony frame similar to the boy, completely flat chested bar two larger round nipples, a slightly rounder arse and hips barely noticeable, a little slit that is so tight it completely conceals the clitoris and inner labia unless the legs are completely spread asunder.  The outer lips, though slightly puffy, resemble a baby conch shell.  The urchins were quickly ushered into sexual foreplay, posing, sixtynining and ass-sucking.  The latter two pleasures had to be coerced due to children’s black and white concepts of hygiene, it was at this point the rift started to widen into a gulf forming an impasse where love ceased to cross.  As tensions mounted and the children’s naivety about the more sophisticated aspects of debauch, let alone their total repugnance towards coporophilia and sucking Maureen’s clitoris, increased Maureen’s resentment at their failure to exchange love and tender feelings let alone ‘play dirty games’, that gulf turned into a black abyss.  Maureen in her fury strangled the girls’ neck, the child’s face turned blue and the mouth choked and gaped for air - at this point Maureen let her turd tumble out of that stinking anus.  The little girl was left choking and vomiting on the floor, her blonde hair all tangled.  The boy was next, Maureen slapping him as he cowered into a corner of that dreadful attic, stumbling over bones as he retreated.  Asphyxiation and a gusher of vomit from Maureen’s mouth left him in the same repose as his little girlfriend, his dark hair all tousled.  Maureen wanted them to make love to each other then to her.  Understandably they were not in the mood for lovemaking, and were scared by the bones and rotting corpses in the room.  Maureen warned them they would take their turns on the mattress if they refused to make love, explaining what happened to that skinless woman cursed by her failure to love.  Terror and massagings, besides a plethora of poses and cunny showings from the girl, raised the boys prick.  They had sex.  The boy came - eventually - the girl was brought to orgasm later on with a variety of cunnilingual, massage and fucking techniques.  Nothing is more beautiful than the sight of children enjoying their first orgasms, their confused pleasure ridden countenance, the shudder of their little bodies rattled by the most pleasant sensations.  Maureen hugged them, kissed them, pawed them all over.  The children became like dolls with glass eyes, their utterances of “I love you” become monotone.  This annoyed Maureen, who in a sudden turn set upon lashing them, forcing them to shit.  They couldn’t, enemas were administered - the children forced to administer to each other.  “Help your boy/girlfriend to empty” were Maureen’s commands.  Diarrhea everywhere, the children soaked in oozing shit, they were now whimpering and wanting to end the whole affair.  Having become totally uncooperative, they were lashed furiously around the room and chained naked to the cot beside the other corpses.  No one heard their fearful wails at night, no one heard their screams by day as Maureen tortured them - all the other children were wailing with nightmares or screaming under batterings anyway.  They complained about the smell and ugliness of the corpses, the noise of rodents scared them at night.  Maureen plucked their eyes out, stuck knitting needles into their eardrums, burned their nostrils and for good measure cut their tongues out to keep them quiet - children should be seen and not heard.  Clients were still willing to fuck them in this state, staring at their naked and battered little bodies, the young girls’ vagina now like a raw wound when she sat with the mandatory open legged pose.  Cigarette burns scorched their skin all over, little bones suffered greenstick fractures.  Finally, they perished and for weeks their decomposing bodies were savaged until there was no more to abuse.  Maureen picked whole lumps of meat off their bones feeding it to the children, women and elderly in the canteen - a food poisoning epidemic lasted for weeks and killed many elderly, a dozen women and two dozen children.  Nobody cared for the dead, nobody missed them - the state saved some money in the debts it created.

Tell your friends, enemies, the priest and the cops about this fine piece of literature :)

Valentines - True Love - shit, piss and vomit is better than flowers and chocolates!

I am a happily married man - as every true pervert and libertine should be.  Marriage is a show of strength, maturity, vitality, courage and Willpower.  Both my wife and I work together on equal terms and love each other.  We encourage each other toward more stupendous debaucheries.  I felt no quiver of jealousy when she leered at hot bodybuilders wearing tight Calvin Klein boxers, rubbing her lovebutton in sheer lust toward their big hot bodies.  Why would I???  It turns me on to watch her getting fucked and sexually tortured by gangs of men and women!

Today - we celebrated our Valentines as we do every day of the year.  In mutual love and understanding - mutual sexual torture and mutual horror.  For horror, my friends, excites the passions like no other experience.  That is why the excitement and pleasure of this lovely day reached its furore and fever pitch when my wife vomited into a basin, as I stood watching, whilst eating a big juicy meaty burger.  Mmmmmm! She retched violently and noisily, in a big huge gush followed by several gutteral croaks and groans that emitted several little spatters and bolus' of spew - which sadly fell upon the floor as the basin was discarded, half of it being spilled when dropped.

I did not let the spillage lead to a sense of tragedy - for I immediately rolled myself in the vomit, kneeled and raised my chin, mouth agape, and bid my wife to pour that basinful of hot emesis straight down my open gullet.  That she did with much glee and ado until the excess was overflowing and running down my cheeks.  I gulped and swallowed as heavily as I could.  And upon feeling my own guts churn I stood up and sucked my beloved passionately on the mouth and vomited violently her own spewings and my chunks of burgermeat straight down her throat.  There we stood, kissing heavily, balking and passing back and forth gushes and balls of vomit and stomach acid - as we fondled each others exhilarated bodies and genitals.  Finally our spare hands found each others anuses (isn't it lovely to know every tiny hidden 'shameful' part of another persons body???) and commenced fingerings and massagings, during heavy vomited laden kisses and mutual masturbation - but rather than cum we kept one another on edge for half the day.  Better to welcome the sweet sweet suffering of the need to cum, than let go of the urge for a mere orgasm 'came premature'...

The vomit was long licked up and shared and redigested when the time came to launch a turd.  We are naked as often as possible - we love nakedness, openness, and abhor any sense of 'shame' but only welcome that as a thrill.  The bathroom door is never shut - and any visitors even are forbidden to shut the door just as they are bid to strip naked and sit in very open poses during their time with us.  Thankfully we have good open minded friends.  Rather than deposit a very fine turd and flush it away it was decided that - being Valentines Day - chocolate would suffice as a gift.  We launched one anothers turds into each others mouths, and broke off half of each turd to rub all over our beautiful naked bodies, swallowing the rest.  When the need to vomit overwhelmed us - heavy French kissing ensued, until exhaustion verged.  Bodies now beshitted from head to toe - we rocked together in deep sex - meditating on the motions, eyes gazing placidly toward one another, until mutual orgasm ensued betwixt two human chocolate eclairs.  We shared everything with one another this lovely day - inside and out, every part of our bodies, beauty and horror - nothing hidden but all shared.  And that's what true love is all about!  Perhaps this weekend, we'll have a dirty orgy again - fucking others and getting fucked in front of one another.  Trust!  That's what true love is all about... Trust and sharing.

Happy Valentines all!  I hope you shared your day with your beloved with openness, trust, INTENSITY, no holding back, and with true care and Will and love as the mutual law without any reservations. :)

Wednesday, 13 February 2013

Tales Of Depravity - Love - Part 7

Part 7 of the story 'Love' from my banned book 'Tales Of Depravity' available on Amazon and Lulu:

Amazon UK


The ebook is available on Lulu for now at least, having been banned on Amazon, so get it while you can:

Lulu ebook

A young woman of 18, just off the heroin and alcohol, came to the refuge to stay away from violent boyfriends, false friends and temptations to return to drugs.  Understandably, the girl wasn’t in the most sociable mood, suffering from depression and paranoia besides the constant craving for drugs and strong drink.  This poor creature was so unfortunate to have insulted Maureen’s polite advances, which often consisted of countless questions about ones personal life, ones miseries, bad memories and sexual experiences and desires in every detail.  Within several days, the girl had “signed out” on Maureen’s shift, the girl found a new home in the attic.  Sitting trembling amidst the bones, the two old corpses still chained to the same cot to which she was now handcuffed, there were comforts in the room if she needed them.  The girl was given many days to think deeply about herself, Maureen only visiting with bread and water, whispering psychologically manipulative sweet nothings and curses into her ears.  The poor creature was traumatised, doleful, weepy and overwhelmed with cravings - the comforts sat before her offering the tempting relief.  On a silver ashtray there rested a needle full of heroin, one joint generously filled with marijuana, one bottle of whiskey.  The girl gave in.  For one month the creature was fed this horrible stuff, in minimal doses leaving her with a constant craving of even greater intensity.  She hung over the abyss wishing she never climbed back out, never climbed back in.  During the blur of days and nights, the monster visited her more frequently, only ever whispering degrading suggestions, doing things to her.  Molestings, fondlings, suckings, her genitals and asshole could no longer be considered ‘private’.  Turds rested everywhere across the attic floor, old ones dried to a chalky texture, crumbling away, her own fresher - often little more than a scittery spray of sludge upon which she sat and slept.  The stench of decomposing flesh, shit, vomit and urine was overwhelming.  When the doses stopped, the girls sweats came on with desperate screams, she now lay on an extra blanket of vomit.  Her skin was all scourges and sores, now made worse by Maureens lashes and beatings with the broomstick upon which she was forced to kneel like St Catherine of Sienna for hours at a time.  Several months passed of whispered mental torture, lashings, beatings, kneelings, on and off the heroin like a yo-yo, molestations and clitfuckings, the girl became a gibbering wreck barely able to utter one coherent word between sobs.  Pitiful eyes in the dark, wide pupils, tear strewn cheeks, whimpering, only received Maureen’s demonic glare.  That one ‘all seeing eye’ looked terrible in the shadows, the blind eye, as evil as the gaze of an octopus observing its prey in the deeps.  The poor creature was forcefed the turds, old and fresh, besides the freshest - the excretions direct from Maureen’s anus straight down the gullet.  Pity, long left Maureen, who remembered her own wretched weepings for mercy and help with the coldness she received the present – the awful here and now that is forever part of history.  No pity now even for herself due to hope being long lost. Redemption dead, clemency perishes too - the girl was only inviting more malice - for this was all that Maureen now had to give.  Maureen, doing her best to love and reach out to another human being, increased her vehement abuses to fever pitch.  The girl who knocked on the door for compassion and redemption from her horrible life, in a seven day barriage of horrible battery, fistfuckings, molestings, burnings with cigarettes and scaldings, quietly perished.  The corpse was left dangling from the cot, not to rest in peace, but to endure weeks of further mutilations before boredom made Maureen move on.

Two more young women quickly followed, twin sisters, aged nineteen.  Quite pretty, fair haired and nicely built, attractive regardless of their underclass backgrounds.  Having escaped from their father who abused them mentally, physically and sexually from their earliest memories, sought refuge and peace.  Maureen coaxed them to her secret place when they sought to smoke marijuana without offending or being branded as offender for such a trivial thing.  Bewitched by Maureens seeming liberality, they soon regretted walking into the attic.  Forced to handcuff themselves to the cot and throwing away the key, the girls knew they were doomed.  Before giving in to Maureen’s demands, an attempted mutiny only resulted in deep gashes in the face of one and the left breast of the other - Maureen’s strength and sharp kitchen knives forced obedience from strong men - these girls should never have bothered trying for it would have meant a (minimally) easier transport to death.  Safely bound, their clothes were cut off; cheap clients immediately took advantage of their indignant position by the dozen.  Overwhelmed by embarrassment bound naked before a dozen leering men, they were forced to pose, expose pussies, shit, piss, even vomit and endure a plethora of assaults of every imaginable sort over three months.  Not one day off did those girls have, having been fucked every evening by over 900 men in 90 days, their vaginas and assholes were dilated and sore.  Now Maureen was to have her fill, lashing the cunny and asshole with a steel chain, rubbing their nipples with sandpaper, punched, kicked, slashed everywhere until they resembled a live Picasso, the girls were soon quite a mess.  Their bodies and faces then subject to hundreds of cigarette burns which formed horrible scabs, they were suddenly very unattractive.  Their minds gave in to psychosis and constant terrified weeping, still they were made perform the most indecent sexual acts with each other - their lunacy made them comply like cattle shocked with the prod - malleable as putty they even shit, pissed and vomited into each others mouths without the slightest hesitation (fear ensured immediate compliance and this was part of the psychosis - compulsive obedience just as any slave in a nunnery soon develops).  Refuge and peace is what they first sought, Maureen gave love and compassion in the only way she knew how - nonstop lashings and fuckings.  The girls, one after the other in the space of two days, expired, overused, overabused, torn apart by the injustice of humanity and nature.  Maureen was a little saddened at their passing, they were nice girls for all they endured.  Maureen knew she became an embittered monster, deformed in the inside as on the outside.  She wished she hadn’t, but it was too late, wasn’t going to blame herself - and interacted with people as best she could, even if it was ‘depraved’.  Though many would call her evil, Maureen surmised, with one photon of light she still tried to be good.  The corpses were treated like dolls - but dolls from an abuse victim are mothered with ambivalence at best.  With a saw, the arms and legs were removed, lovingly nurtured, sawn into pieces.  The torsos were cradled like babies - then gutted.  The maggots reclaimed all in their leisure.  Maureen had to seek love elsewhere once again.

Happy Valentines!  Share this story with your girlfriend, your secret girlfriends, your parents, your friends, your enemies, your social worker and the cop who always catches you :)

Tuesday, 12 February 2013

Tales Of Depravity - Love - Part 6

Part 6 of the story 'Love' from the banned book 'Tales Of Depravity' available on Amazon and Lulu:

Amazon UK


The ebook is finally available on Lulu for now at least - I don't know if or when it'll get taken down by the censors again:  ebook on Lulu

In the geriatric wing, old men and women suffered under her nursing.  One old man, who needed help onto the toilet, tried to avoid Maureen and her wandering hands.  Eventually, Maureen caught on, laughing as he sat tremoring in order to hold in his shit and piss in order to avoid Maureen.  She simply waited until he dirtied himself, hauled him off to the bath, mocking out loud how a fully grown man should know better. The poor old boy was forcefed his own shit, finger fucked, then forced to endure those shitty fingers up his nose.  After a very rough bath where his dignity was removed in a variety of forced poses, fingerfuckings and friggings.  His old cock was impotent, which resulted in a barriage of verbal humiliations.  Maureen then demanded he fondled her naked body, as usual commenting on her beauty, before fingering her to orgasm as she sucked his inert member.  A grumpy old woman soon regretted getting ratty with Maureen, as she was slapped, stripped, pissed on, fingered anally and cuntily and finally forced to suck that big clitoris with her toothless old maw.  Two old men were compelled to participate in a menage a trois involving homosexual acts and lewdness they barely understood.  Acts of lechery that did not occur to their old minds left them shaken and silent in disgust.  Three old women were smothered to death by Maureen, their corpses getting the mandatory frigging and clitfucking.  Two old men also died mid orgy at bathtime - the leather belt gave them a heart attack.  Another old woman, who suffered weeks of fingerfuckings up the ass and cunt, shitfeeding, smothering, strangulations and lashings finally gave up the ghost in shock and despair - in death her countenance was pitiful.  Another old man and woman were led to the attic, stripped, sodomised by the fearful clit, lashed, treated as a toilet, forced to copulate with each other and with Maureen, engage in various shitting acts and receive further lashings.  When they perished their corpses were left hanging by the wrist to the cot where they were bound.

After spending several years abusing the elderly, she returned to spend some time with the tortured young women again.  Not that she didn’t cross over to the other ‘wards’ to indulge in horrors with women and children, only it was done with less frequency and intensity.  A young Nun was administering the Women’s Refuge Ward, very pretty face, mid twenties, her thin figure obscured by the veil.  Maureen directed the nun into a conversation about sexual urges and how she controlled them.   The young Sister confessed to intensive urges for men that could only be cooled with masturbation.  Sometimes she found herself amorously fondling teenage boys, even making two of them cum in their pants and swear silence, and sometimes getting terribly excited when being bathed by her other sisters.  After winning more of the young Sisters confidence over several days Maureen finally had her confess to indulging in full sex with a young priest upon the altar, so passionate and intense they returned to commit the sacrilege several more times.  She got pregnant, aborted the foetus manually, fucked the priest several more times before the bishop moved him to another diocese after catching them in the act (yes, the bishop had his share of her, the priest removed only out of selfish envy).  The nun went on to confess how she had oral sessions with a fifteen year old boy, sucked the cocks of three young men, stripped before them and had them lick and suck her everywhere till she came in convulsions.  But that was not all, even bathing three year old boys, fondling their pricks, got her frustrated sex excited, she sucked the urchins off, and taught them to rub her until it ‘felt nice’.  As for bathing with other nuns, this was nothing less than sapphism - very common in convents since mediaeval times and Maureen knew this already - she just wanted to hear the confession.  Maureen tried to seduce the nun, but the sister refused her advances, finally admitting under duress that it was the behemoths ugliness that made it impossible for her.  Maureen’s fury was relentless.  The young nun was dragged to the attic and stripped naked.  What a gorgeous body!  How shameful it is to hide such beauty behind those obscure smocks!  How the Church should burn for chastising such delights!  The nun turned crimson in embarrassment, which only excited Maureen, who reveled in shame and humiliation due to what she suffered herself. Those perfect round breasts with pert pink nipples, flowing black hair over a long neck and slender shoulders.  A slender back, thin belly and pert little bellybutton, a lovely black mane upon the mons veneris, thin hips like young tulips, size ten, slender long legs with perfect knees and beautiful size four feet.  No man or woman could fail to be attracted to her.  When forced to twirl, her perfect, pert, round, succulent ass with a delicious crevice came to view - any viewers mouth would water.  The nun, in her shame, was made part her legs, expose her slit from various angles and from behind, part the bumcheeks exposing a beautiful pink anus.  Part the cuntlips, showing her all; pink inner labia, a lovely shaped hood with the clitoris shyly peeping beneath, below it a little round urethra and beneath that a gorgeous pink love tunnel leading into dark warmth.  To watch her piss was magical, to watch that lovely asshole launch dirty turds was divine.  The nun suffered terrible shame and embarrassment throughout, having a very conservative Catholic upbringing.  When interrogated how she managed to indulge so much with her priest and boy lovers she responded that there wasn’t the same leering criticism and deliberate attempt to embarrass and humiliate.  This pleased Maureen very much, the debauch went up a gear.  No act of lechery was forgotten in those liaisons the disgusted Nun was forced to endure.  Watersport games, pissing into each others vaginas, assholes, mouths and over each others bodies.  Coporophilia, coporophagia (a can of petrol makes anything possible), emetophilia.  The Nun often found her self lapdancing, plastered in shit, beside those rotting corpses now almost withered to the bone.  She was forced to engage in necrophilia, blasphemy, sacrilege with stolen communion wafers, and further necrophiliac acts with the young womans skeleton.  The nun had to use the femur as a dildo, the skull as a toilet, drinking piss from it like wine from a goblet.  The poor sister lived in fear for months, Maureen had such a powerful psychological grip that even when the sister had to shit or piss, she’d let Maureen know just so the monster could watch and molest her afterwards.  The terrified nun attended the attic for fear of anyone finding out about her lecheries with priests, other nuns, teenage boys and toddlers - plus the threat of murder at the hands of Maureen.  Eventually, the nun was prostituted to dozens of clientele, almost dying with embarrassment as she had to dance naked in front of ten men at once, showing everything before submitting to fondlings and fuckeries.  Broken, the Nun committed suicide knowing no other exit.

Don't forget to tell your friends all about this wonderful story and the lovely character Maureen :)

Monday, 11 February 2013

Tales Of Depravity - Love - Part 5

Part 3 of the story 'Love' from the banned book 'Tales Of Depravity' available on Amazon and Lulu:

Amazon UK


This has been banned on ebook on most eshops - but here it is on Lulu for any reader, for the time being at least...  ebook version on lulu click here

It was 1981, the world feigned prosperity and hope for all.  But no one wanted Maureen, nobody would employ her, no landlord would house her, she spent weeks on the streets on her release.  Too ugly to sell her body even that female last prerogative for survival was taken from her.  She forged a living by smashing the brains of the other vagrants and taking the few begged pounds from their pockets - she watched and waited all day until they scrounged enough from passers by.  Finally Maureen found herself in a women’s refuge, where for the first time ever middle aged and young women listened to her terrible story with a sympathetic ear.  She was given a room, given counseling and psychological support.  But by now many of the things she suffered, many of the things she saw and done as a result of that suffering, could not be discussed.  Maureen did feel glad and respected the humanity shown to her, hands of compassion finally reaching out to her, but it was too late.  The kind women had no real answers for her sexual needs - when Maureen complained that no man would want her the counselors were stunned and speechless.  What could be said?  Anyway, deep down in her heart Maureen knew she couldn’t trust anyone now, couldn’t let herself be loved never mind love.  All hope was gone, but the urges didn’t go away.  The psychologists tried their very best, they really did, and Maureen thanked them.  But her flashbacks and nightmares continued, her urge to punish didn’t cool.  She didn’t admit this to her counselors, she didn’t want to disappoint them and this tiny feeling of human being she clung on to - the desire to please another person.  A person who only wanted the best from you for the best intentions (something politicians always exploit).  Maureen always held on to this photon of light which to her was as bright as the sun.  She also didn’t want to admit this because she knew nothing could be done, she was beyond repair and the only sense of happiness and satisfaction she could now have in this wretched life - regardless of how superficial this satisfaction may be - was to indulge in violence and sexual gratification.

After spending several months in the women’s refuge, Maureen was asked if she cared for any kind of vocation.  She cunningly explained she’d dearly like to help other vulnerable people: the elderly, women, children.  Shortly afterwards she was sent to a care home looking after children of both sexes, another block looking after vulnerable women, another block the elderly -  run by social services and nuns.  At age 22 Maureen became a matron in this huge Edwardian refuge, she was to spend 24 years there in a reign of terror.  In this godforsaken place children from drug ridden abusive families, orphans of drug addicts, women coming off drugs or escaping violent drunken husbands, elderly underclass and working class people discarded by families who didn’t care - people the state never cared about therefore ceased to care for themselves.  The Nuns, surprisingly, were very unpleasant to these ungodly people who surely wouldn’t get past St Peter at the pearly gates - some of those Sisters she knew and they trembled upon meeting her again.  The social workers only mocked these minions in their care, battered and molested the children, left the women to rot, left the elderly to die.  Maureen was not surprised - knowing these institutions too well - she would enjoy unleashing her fury with impunity on these luckless innocents just as she was once mistreated.  And why not?  Better to reign in terror than to serve in fear.  Those Nuns had much punishment coming their way - Maureens legs knocked with excitement.

Sister Beatrice was her first victim, the old hag, 60 years old, was bathing and molesting a three year old boy - slapping him and barking at him when he wailed.  The holy bitch trembled and begged clemency when Maureen entered the bathroom, locked the door, and undressed.  Sister Beatrice was ordered to strip, enter the bath with the boy, suck his cock whilst cursing God and pledging allegiance to all ways of flesh.  Suck the brats asshole, fondle his body, have him bite her cunt and lick the old clit.  A can of petrol and a large butchers knife ensured the Nuns compliance.  Maureen manhandled the boy everywhere, sucking his young flesh, chanting “Lamb of God you harbour all the sins of the world, grow up and spread horror”, the Nun was compelled to chant also, with a knife swinging in the air to ensure obedience.  Maureen slobbered over the Nun, forced Beatrice to admit Maureen is so beautiful she should become a lapdancer or earn herself a fortune in prostitution.  Beatrice, still in the bath with the boy, was ordered to empty the can of petrol into the bath as Maureen dressed herself.  She had to promise the terrified Nun no match would be lit if she complied, disobedience would be “slash and burn” for both her and the boy.  Sister Beatrice complied, though a twisted women due to celibacy and religion, she did not want the boy to come to any real harm.  Maureen smiled, lit a match, and walked out of the bathroom and far away.  The screams of nun and boy were horrible, screams of agony to which Maureen masturbated in privacy.  A lazy police investigation ensued, Maureen had already spread rumours in the three weeks previous of Sister Beatrice’s increasing senility and odd behaviour - it was written off as a sick suicide case much to Maureen’s satisfaction.

Doing her night duty in the women’s refuge block, Maureen was glad to receive a young woman from the streets.  Aged 22 like herself, a heroin addict, it took the poor creature some time to realise she was already a previous victim of Maureen’s - rightfully so as she enjoyed bullying Maureen and getting her into trouble with the Nuns.  The wretched creature was dragged off to an attic room far up in an unused part of that old building.  There she was tied naked to a cot and fed bread and water.  For the first month her comedown from the heroin was terrible, she screamed and wailed for skag, only to get beatings and sexual abuse.  So far out in an unused wing, two unused floors below her, no one heard her scream.  Maureen reveled at the wretches heavy sweating, her pallor, her fear and trembling, her sickness.  This ill fated creature had to beg Maureen for forgiveness countless times per day, suck that oversized clitoris, suck that brown nipple, suck the asshole and let herself be treated as a toilet for every sort of ordure Maureen cared to excrete, emit or micturate.  Maureen loved making the girl drink her periods that big bloody bush had to be groomed clean by her tongue.  The girl herself endured so many fistfuckings her vagina was permanently dilated and her ass always leaked.  The poor creature had to pose this way and that, watch Maureen pose and commend her physical beauty.  When Maureen wasn’t savagely beating her, she was hugging her - telling her ‘baby’ she loved her and was moved to anger if the girl did not respond with “I love you too” immediately, softly, emotively.  Maureen needed that superficial love, to spice up her fuckeries, the only love she trusted and could swallow.  Several months imprisoned in this attic, the girl begged for release, instead Maureen brought her some ‘lovers’.  The girl obviously needed lots of love, just like Maureen.  The result?  Dozens of male clientele per week, the young woman was prostituted at a very cheap rate.  Subject to countless sexual humiliations, she eventually gave up hiding her nakedness in embarrassment at the many leering men - she apathetically opened her legs and exposed everything, posed this way and this, shit and pissed, became a toilet, became a punchbag, became an instrument of sexual relief.  She wanted to die, Maureen beat her, molested her, fucked her asshole and cunt with her clitoris, fucked the girls nostrils, and brought more clients.  It took a year and a half for the woman to finally perish.  Her corpse was still subjected to battery and fuckery by Maureen, and two dozen regular clients were happy to give her corpse one last good fucking before the maggots conquered it.  Even when it was totally rotten, Maureens revenge wasn’t satisfied - even in death she remained bound, an instrument of battery and fuckery until she fell apart and scattered about the floor.  Rotten limbs and torso, a skull also, gave way to the maggots - the skeleton always served as a plaything of Maureen’s.  The femur as a dildo, the skull as a pisspot and shit bowl, the fingertips as clit and sphincter stimulators.

Tell it to your friends and come back for part 6  :)

Tuesday, 5 February 2013

Tales Of Depravity - Love - Part 4

Part 3 of the story 'Love' from the banned book 'Tales Of Depravity' available on Amazon and Lulu:


This has been banned on ebook on most eshops - but here it is on Lulu for any reader, for the time being at least...  ebook version on lulu click here

Finally, after several months, and a few more victims aged 11-16, Maureen was ganged upon, beaten and had her face slashed with a knife.  The Nuns stitched her themselves, and the scar was deep and permanent.  The result?  Maureen found herself a knife, and compelled a gang of twenty boys and girls to strip and engage in total sexual pell mell, Sapphic acts, homosexuality, shitting, pissing, vomiting, thrashing, several getting slashed across the face, chest and abdomen for trying to overpower her, several beautiful girls left with permanent facial scars.  The Nuns and priests stepped in, one Nun immediately fell with a stab wound, but the old rake survived somehow, to ensure Maureen was sent to a borstal for girls until the age of 21.

At seventeen years old and weighing twenty stone, in the borstal Maureen immediately became known as Big Maureen.  On her first day she beat to a pulp half a dozen girls who tried to bully her, breaking their arms and noses.  Her first night in a shared cell was intensely amorous - as it continued to be for two weeks until the poor girl, two years older but utterly terrified of the beast preying on her, finally plucked up the courage to request another cell.  Maureen put the poor thing through every bodily examination, sexual practice, mutual masturbation, sixtynining and cunnilingus technique humanly possible.  Maureen needed sexual release more and more, it was the only pleasant feeling she had in life - the orgasm.  She knew of nothing else to live for, for nothing ever gave her a chance except that which she took.  Her partners were always taken like stolen goods - just as everyone stole the light from her.  Maureen’s sexual practices and needs were getting more subtle now; she wished to indulge in the passions and techniques with the greatest detail, with finesse, with intense refinement and from every angle.  She learned to fuck mouths, asses and cunts with her large clitoris - though it took smaller, lighter girls with skinny asses to make anal fuckeries possible.  Several seventeen year old girls, who were petite and bony due to anorexia and bulimia nervosa, trembled when Maureen came within twenty feet from them.  Maureen knew it, and remembering her own terror, didn’t intend to be on that side of the fence again.  Better to reign in terror rather than serve in fear.  Maureen forced girls to fuck with girls, sometimes in groups of six or seven - her ugliness, violence, perversion, brute strength and pitilessness had everyone so terrified of her no one dared defy her will.  Not even the most dominant girls in a prison of several hundred challenged her.  Those who did came to suffer more elaborate punishments, more sadistic yet also more sexually degrading.  Broomhandles and on one or two occasions knives and forks up orifices, besides cups and plates, became a common practice.  Fistfuckings also became a favourite pastime, her big forearms bringing much suffering to her victims.  Asphyxiation, smothering, jabbing clitorises with needles were a few more of Big Maureen’s pleasantries.  A new male bodyguard came to assist the butch female prison officers.  Maureen got her hands on him, dragged him into a cell, forced him to strip after beating him to submission, had ten other girls piss and shit all over him, vomit in his mouth, fist him, squeeze his nipples and balls, kick him to near unconsciousness.  The girls then fucked him one after another, each one orgasming being so glad to have some cock, the guard being warned that if he came he would be castrated.  The knife at his balls ensured he kept control.  Finally Big Maureen fucked him, forced him to come, before finally breaking his arms and throwing him over the railings outside the cell onto the floor 30ft below.  The female bodyguards found his naked dead body, but no single culprit could be punished as none of the girls dared compromise Maureen (they were also hoping for more bodyguard incidents).  Maureen’s ‘friends’ were constantly compelled to pander to her, to ‘love’ her, to fulfill her demands - often to the detriment of their physical and mental health and their friendships.  Maureen didn’t care, no one ever cared for her, so now she was making up for that - everyone would care for her at their expense.  Several more bodyguards were to suffer the same fate - no more men were willing to work in such a hazardous place.  Nothing is more dangerous than a sexually frustrated tribe of young women desperate for cock - especially if they come from troubled backgrounds - and especially as troubled a background as Big Maureen’s.  Sex and violence leads to a dangerous reactionary vengefulness in the female, being of a nature that works very much in the here and now, her response to immediate environmental cues becomes intense regardless if her reaction is slow or fast.

Two butch female prison officers had the sheer stupidity to cross her, having her condemned to solitary confinement - plenty of time to think and reminisce.  Soon after her release back to her wing, she personally led ten girls who dared not challenge her authority into stripping and handcuffing the officers to the cell bars, smashing their knees and shins with their own batons, breaking their fingers, feeding them bucketfuls of shit, rammed the batons up their asses and cunts, Maureen herself thrashing them with their own waistbelts.  Apart from spending some time in the orthopaedic ward in hospital, they were incapacitated with PTSD, turned into nervous wrecks incapable of even filling a kettle.  Over the next five years, Maureen learned to personally avoid blame for the countless mutilations, bone breakages, burns, scalds, vaginal and rectal haemorrages and weltmarks that dozens of girls accrued besides the terror inflicted on prison officers who dared cross her.  She learned to indulge in the most depraved acts of vengeance and sexual gratifications she pleased by the age of twenty.  Setting one girl on fire, pouring bleach into her seared flesh, Maureen was extremely excited at the prospect of another girl being uglier than she.  The girl suffered over 90% burns to the 3rd degree, spending two agonising years in hospital, she was left in a grotesque state that made Maureen look like a beauty queen.  Several other girls had caustic soda thrown in their faces - always the girls who were the most beautiful.  As they lay screaming in agony, their hands clutching their faces and permanently blinded eyes, their fingers burned to the bone, Maureen molested them, fisted them, shit over them, kicked them, and masturbated for some time whilst watching their wriggling naked bodies writhe in agony.  A young girl, only seventeen, entered the borstal and within two months was molested and assaulted in every imaginable way.  This poor young creature then had her left leg sawn off from the upper thigh in a two hour agonising ordeal - held down by several other sadistic girls.  Maureen put three other girls through the horrors of a clitorodectomy, labia minora removal, sphincteral slicings - all with a rusty old razor leaving them with terrible infections.  Nipples were also shaved off, faces sliced, ears cut off, noses and lips removed.  Entire bodies were sliced and mutilated by that same razor, all for the sake of Maureen’s vengefulness and need for orgasms by violent means.  One young woman, aged 21 and only two weeks from freedom, had the brass neck to insult Maureen’s appearance.  The woman, after spending half a day covered in shit and undergoing every imaginable act of sexual humiliation before a dozen other fat girls, horrified the prison officers as she ran screaming to them.  Her hands were amputated at the wrists, her breasts lopped off, her vagina and asshole mutilated beyond repair - clitoris removed from the root (Maureen enjoyed removing a woman’s source of pleasure), she was then turned into a human fireball before being released down the corridor.  She burned for several minutes before reaching the officers to be extinguished - the rest of her life was a mental and physical prison worse than any POW camp on earth, to say the least.  The young woman’s friends were terrified to find Maureen was wanting them.  After removing their fingernails she compelled them to finger her, finger each other and lick each others fingertips.  One was compelled to amputate the hand or foot of another, remove a layer of skin, an ear, a nose, an eyeball, the lips - the constant threat of fire rendered them deferentially obedient.  Three young women, handless, footless, blind, earless, noseless, lipless, were then fucked by Maureens clitoris, kicked and abused by a dozen jeering fat slags, slashed with knives, pissed on, shit on, vomited on, forced to shit, piss and vomit.  Finally - after being burned with caustic soda stolen from the cleaning storage cupboards, they were permitted to crawl to the prison officers for help.  The officers, though horrified at these events, genuinely weren’t interested in the welfare of any of the girls in their care - therefore anything was permitted to happen.  Maureen was a victim of this culture, now she was the product of that culture.  When the prison officers decided to show some interest in maintaining law and order in the borstal - just to ensure their jobs stayed easy - they got their answer.  The most senior wing officer was kidnapped, stripped, sexually abused for six hours, skinned alive and hung by the neck from the railings of the stairwell, her intestines hanging from her belly.  Maureen was left alone, she eventually turned 21, the officers and girls breathed a sigh of relief at her formal release.

Don't forget to come back for the rest of the story - and share it with your aunt, mother, grandmother, friends and enemies :)