If you want to see my more controversial work on wattpad - you have to sign up and 'follow':
http://www.wattpad.com/user/BaldassareCossa
In the meantime, I provide you now the story 'Love', from my book Tales Of Depravity - which still remains banned off Kindle, and I cannot make it available on iBookstore and B&N Nook until I 'make changes' - which I will not under any circumstance do. I simply refuse to water down or censor my work to satisfy a minority of moral faggots or a majority of brainwashed drones. Fuck it! It is time some hard writing puts this lying, deceiving petty little culture to the test! Basically ramming the face of NeoConservatism into the unflushed toilet! No flushes - no censorship - no relief from its own filth.
Come, follow me - every day I will post some more of my story - I hope you come back and enjoy the read. Please post comments. Feel free to friend me, like me and so on in facebook. I want to hear from my readers. Follow me and comment on Deviant Art and Twitter also. Spread this story, spread the gospel. Fuck the moralfags! I'm even more determined to spread that which they don't want anyone to see.
The book is available in print on Amazon and Lulu - check my Books Of Sodom page on this blog for the links.
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
Anyway - enjoy the story. I'll keep posting it in parts. It's quite a long one.
Love
Born into squalor and abomination, from
the outset the squealing malnourished infant who was to grow into Big Maureen,
as she later became known, could not have faced greater adversity in her quest
to grow into a successful human being.
Her mother was an alcoholic - forced to prostitute herself to feed her
habit and throw scraps of bread and milk to her bastard children merely to
pacify them for another hour. Her
husband, a rampant liar, womanizer, thief, voyeur, pederast was seldom
around. When he was, he usually
subjected his wife to vigorous fuckings against the wall in drunken fits of
rage, sometimes in the presence of neighbours – and later would subject the screaming
bastard children to physical, psychological and sexual violence (at least two
from the half dozen little thievelings and prostitutes certainly were not his –
which served as requisite excuse for these outrages). Maureen’s three elder brothers, from as far
back as she could remember, beat her, screamed at her and fingerfucked her, her
two elder sisters only mocked and jeered, excluding her from the little genuine
social interaction that occurred in the slums of Glasgow. At six years old, her mother in a drunken fit
of rage lashed boiling cooking fat over her face and body. Not only was the right side of her face and
front of her upper right torso permanently scarred, besides being blinded in
her right eye and her front hairline immediately receded by two inches, her
future of misery and mental agony was secured.
Mistreated by doctors and nurses at the
hospital where she spent many agonizing months, they reveled in her pain as
they roughly changed the bandages and deliberately let the burns fester and
become much more complicated than they otherwise should have been. In 1966 it was not conducive to ones
wellbeing to be of the working class, or the underclass - those who before WWII
had proletarian backgrounds until herded into vast housing estates like Soviet
cattle to a new industrial city on the Steppes.
These people, forgotten in the postwar economic booms despite promises
of certain ‘Labourist’ policies, became the cannon fodder of scorn and
reprehension. The professional classes,
in their elitist contempt for anyone without a good high school education
(which is far from ubiquitous though it feigns to be available for all) and the
physical, intellectual or economic incapacity to fend for themselves due to
mismanagements deforming society, enjoy exalting themselves through continuing human
misery. Maureen was that misery at its
apogee, and what she later became is the inevitable fallout from that
aforementioned mismanagement. Horror,
comes from horror made, horror practiced, horror recompenses horror. How humanity revels in horror! Even its hypocrisy and double standards are
horror! Even its’ two faced complaints
about horror is horror! Even the
charities and do-gooders and campaigners to resolve horror is horror due to
actually maintaining the horror it feigns to resolve. Horror in bad practice, bad things lead to
bad results. One may ‘wish for the
best’, and through apathetic management, such as post WWII housing projects and
economics, class interests, national interests, social interests besides other
egotisms and vulgarities caked in the makeup of ‘truth, beauty and goodness’,
will only acquire horrible results. And
to cake that ugly face in more ‘good’ makeup - such horror! Even the Renaissance men, the Mediaeval’s,
the Romans, could be more upfront about themselves than that - they admitted to
horror, and relatively suffered less of it (or no more of it at least). Doctors, in their hyena hypocrisy, feigned to
‘help’ Maureen. Later, the Nuns ‘helped’
Maureen. But all Maureen could remember
was horror. The mistreatment in hospital
worse than what her mother did to her.
The ‘good’ upbringing and education ministered by the Nuns and that
cursed Catholic Church (itself stinking in a good two millennia of unspeakable,
abyssal black horror in the name of God), was worse than the mistreatment she
received from her elder siblings, peers and father.
The rest of Maureen’s childhood was a
blur of beatings and cold showers, which hurt her scars. She hated showering in front of the other
girls, who only mocked and jeered at her misshapen body, how she wished to be
like them - admiring their wet smooth skin as they waltzed and preened
unashamed of their beauty. Due to her
looking different, no one befriended her, or they would form fake friendships
only to deliberately dupe her and leave her psychologically and spiritually
broken. The Nuns were harsh with this
‘little hussy’, after being inspected and found to have a broken hymen they
were determined to cleanse her soul from the evil into which she was born. Maureen soon felt like a reprobate. Schoolwork was never of satisfactory
standard, handwriting was never neat enough - nothing could please them. She was luckier than the prettiest girls in
some ways though - they received untoward attentions from the Priests and Nuns. The Nuns knew how to lash with the leather
belt, they knew how to lash with the stick, they often spanked her scarred
flesh breaking it and making it bleed, the wounds healed knitting the already
taught skin tighter.
At the age of 11 she was moved to a
children’s home of mixed sex, still run by nuns, who were just as harsh if not
more brutal than their colleagues in the girls convent. The first shower night was one of abysmal
humiliation as all the other girls - all 75 of them - mocked and screamed and
jeered at her ugly nakedness. She was
getting plump and was less beautiful than before. When Maureen cried for them to stop they set
upon her like crows on carrion, tearing at her and beating her into soon
bloodied water. When the Nuns stopped
the cabal, they were in no way sympathetic to Maureen. Barking at her like Sergeant Majors, ordered
her to wash the blood off and marched her completely naked up the corridors to
the punishment room. For four hours the
Home reverberated of lashes and screaming girls, an 18th century bedlam would
not compare. Maureen was blamed for instigating the commotion, and her protests
of innocence only lead to the harshest mental and physical rebukes fierce
enough to leave a veteran soldier cowering in the corner.
When Maureen refused to enter the showers
the following wash evening, the Nuns took the greatest pleasure in frogmarching
her into the boys shower rooms, stripped her and forced her to wash before 70
jeering cooing boys who mocked her ugliness, fat ass, pot belly, scars, budding
misshapen left breast, deformed vulva and chubby hips. Sufficient to make any girl die of
embarrassment – this served only to kill another of the few remaining lights in
the soul of the already traumatized Maureen.
The Nuns lashed her furiously until she pissed herself, forcing her to
wash all over again; the boys jeering even harder at this sick show, another
light went out inside her. No one, in
the revelries of horror in the name of God, goodness and good discipline,
noticed it getting any dimmer. The globe gets dimmer and in the self
inflicted horror no one notices. At
this point, for the first time, Maureen surmised “surely they deserve a darker
hour?”
Adolescence was more than a living hell,
if childhood was painful, then Maureen’s teenage years were emotionally
raw. Now she cognized her anguish, and
the realisation was bleak and painful as a Scottish winter. (Half the nuns, by the way, were Irish). Never was her school performance good enough,
she never got enough sleep, with homework, chores, punishment homework,
punishment chores, and tortures and practical jokes from her peers in the
dormitories. It was her peers who got
her punished, and the Nuns enjoyed all of it, even when it was proven Maureen
was innocent - she was punished anyway along with her peers, who only savagely
beat her afterwards. The other girls
shit and pissed her bed, forced her to sleep in it, and in the morning reveled
in the nuns harsh remonstrations. During
assembly, all the boys and girls in the Home would jeer at her nocturnal and
other failures. It is not pleasant to be
accused of having no bladder or bowel control whether you are incontinent or
not. Her sanitary towels always disappeared,
leading to more mockeries at the assembly for messing her knickers or bed linen
with the ‘Sin of Eve’. She was regularly
stripped and paraded naked around the playground by her peers, everyone
applauding and commenting on her body.
The Nuns, when they found out about ‘her whoresone exhibitionism’,
reveled in forcing her to shower with the boys for 3 months and stand naked
before the whole assembly for the same duration. Assuring her she was damned, the Nuns felt
the most gracious thing she could do was be a warning to others of the
degrading punishments ‘God’ has in store for deviants from the path enunciated
in the bible. Maureen struggled to find
answers in that book, and for her sins the Sisters gave her some bitter
theology lessons. When Maureen commented
that the Gospel according to Matthew states one is not to judge others, condemn
to hell or say ‘you fool’, the result was the cupboard - where she remained in
the dark for three months. “Foolish
little girls will languish in the dark where there is weeping and gnashing of
teeth for letting their lamps extinguish” was the response and explanation from
these vicious Women of God.
Maureen was now 15, and quite lethargic
and overweight, in a constant depression and yearning, her inner self felt like
a dark room with a brazier glowing redder.
All the other girls were indulging in secret relationships with the
boys, away from the eyes of the Nuns, who in fits of jealousy would catch the
culprits and punish them in sexually humiliating ways. The Nuns were not averse to using the older
boys for their own sexual follies - neither were the priests. The girls
suffered the same, except Maureen.
Besides being used as sex toys, these boys and girls managed to forge
romances between each other, teenage romances that were healthy and joyful. Filled with necking, heavy petting, oral and
sometimes group games it is almost unimaginable where humanity can grow. But the conditions were too adverse for
Maureen and the world remained hostile towards her. The girls only mocked her inability to get a
boyfriend, accused of sapphism, she was reported to the Nuns: who took pleasure in a three week long
intensive inquisition of degrading cross examinations, beatings, naked
‘examinations’ by the priests, and cold baths - which hurt her scars. For the first time during this inquisition,
Maureen got to see herself naked in a full length mirror. The sight of herself made her sob
uncontrollably; her weeping didn’t stop for weeks. Her left breast didn’t develop properly,
growing into a thin conical teat rent askew to the left, the nipple brown,
hairy and inverted, it wasn’t a pretty sight.
Her right breast was painful in its growth, due to the scar tissue. There was no nipple, burned away long ago, it
looked like a large flattened ball of lumpy fat sitting atop her pot
belly. Her vulva was hidden by a huge
black bush of wiry pubic hair - the inner labia hung two inches beyond the
outer labia like the cheeks of a turkey, red and raw, the clitoris protruded
four inches beyond the hood. The bush
couldn’t hide this deformed shame. Her
hips were thunderously large, chubby, riddled with cellulite and love handles
like the flesh on her back. Her ass was
large, flat and flabby, hanging down to the backs of her knees and sprouting
hair from cleft. The left side of her
face was pockmarked with an old dose of chickenpox and chronic severe acne –
leaving the unscarred side of her face appear like the surface of the
moon. The right side of her face was
ghoulish, her eye a deformed rheumy white with no pupil, her right ear a plug
shaped waxy mess. No man would marry
her, it was obvious to her, all hope faded.
In her adolescence, with her dawning sexuality which was brutally
repressed by Nuns, boys and girls, she developed the hope and yearning to
escape this horror and find a prince who would rescue her soul from eternal
darkness and love her and let her love.
It would clearly never be.
