The Storm by JohannahFan
This is the beginning of a pornographic apocalyptic novel. There is a lot of sex, but also a lot of narrative and scene setting. The Earth has been ‘infected’ by organisms that can penetrate space and time and go in and out of dimensions.
They work to break down the human race to their primoridial ids, burying the superego. It is a work in progress and will need a lot of work. Any comments are welcome!
, Fifty rounds per minute, the A4 held close to his chest, the air five feet in front of him as thick as blood, dark with smoke and fog, debris from a city slowly going back to its primordial roots. Fifty rounds per minute down the alley east to the river, no enemy in sight, but fully aware that they were there, swarming from the river banks, from the sewers, the subway tunnels. Sweat dripped off his body as he tried to control the powerful machine gun and the chain wrapped tightly around his waist, which led to the two naked women at the other end, thick metal collars around their necks, the heavy, two-inch links dragging them practically to all fours on the concrete sidewalk.
He continued firing, oblivious that his cock was growing hard as a rock, throbbing with every single round: this happened during the Storms, an uncontrollable lust, it seemed as if sex spread through the atmosphere like a virus, invading everyone. He shuffled backwards, trying to fire in spite of what his throbbing, aching tool was telling him, struggling to pull the two naked women with him to the safety of the steel door and the tenement building where they lived, or hid. His cock was now completely, utterly hard and he could feel the cum pulsating through his loins, gushing through his shaft, and as he pressed his finger down again on the trigger, the hot cum exploded from his cock, erupting three feet horizontally before gravity pulled it down to the sidewalk.
He felt his knees buckle, but he knew their safety depended on him, and he remained standing and firing, his cock still hard, despite the violent orgasm. The blonde, her chain leaving sparks on the sidewalk, hurriedly crawled on all fours to where the semen had been spent, bent down and tried to lick it up, before he tugged as hard as he could with his free hand on the chain and jerked her back. She shuffled away and came towards him, grabbing his thighs and collapsing onto his cock, her mouth greedily sucking his spent, yet still hard shaft.
The other girl- the brunette- shifted over to the blonde, and bent her neck, burying her face into the blondes crotch, eagerly licking. There was no time for this, and he jerked the blonde away and pulled the brunette up by her collar. They quickly retreated, as quickly as they had dived into each others’ bodies and lunged for the heavy, grey metal door to their right.
He slammed the door open with his hips and they fell through with an angry thud. He dropped the gun to the ground, pushed the door closed and latched it shut. The Storms were unpredictable.
Sometimes they lasted hours. Sometimes they lasted weeks. The only thing predictable about them was that they were guaranteed to come.
There were holes in time, in space; there were dimensions that even the greatest of physicists had no knowledge. These were holes in which all of humankind was turned inside out; where the superego was suppressed and each person’s id came raging to the surface like an untamed beast. At first the Storms were mild, and the media attributed them to a slow decay of the societal fabric: mass murders in Houston, gang rapes in Chicago, a massive increase in divorces, drug and alcohol abuse.
It was as if the whole world was simply following its innermost pleasures with no thought for anything else. And this was, of course, what was happening. No one, however, knew it was because of an organism that had swept through the entire multiverse, unleashed by beings that were simply incomprehensible, beings that initially took the disguise of single-celled organisms: in the air, the food, the water, turning people inside out.
And so society turned on itself. Nothing mattered unless your needs were satisfied. And in a world where the fabric is frayed to nothing, that is what you are left with: chaos.
He leaned against the cold metal door, sweating and breathing heavily. The blonde crawled back over to him and took his cock in her mouth. The brunette reached behind the blonde, positioning herself so she could suck the juice from her pussy.
His cock grew hard as rock, pulsing in her mouth, and he held her head tight to his crotch, slowly moving his hips. This was the micro-organism, he knew; this was the Storm. Constantly hard, constantly in need of sex, of fucking, of exploding load after load of cum until he couldn’t stand anymore, could barely breath.
This was the Storm: two beautiful girls, kept on chains to contain their insatiable, unquenchable appetite for cock, for cum, practically turned into animals. During a Storm, that was it: you were constantly on the quest for whatever turned you on the most. For some this was drugs and alcohol, but those people never lasted much longer than the duration of the Storm.
The city was littered with the dead bodies of junkies and drunks. For others it was food, and these became the de facto leaders, the most logical of the group, although they, too, did not last very long, gorging themselves like dogs until they were out. During a Storm, money was useless.
Money couldn’t suck your cock. Money couldn’t stick a needle in your arm. Money couldn’t feed your stomach.
The Storms reduced people to Stone Age times, bartering for whatever you needed to survive. Sex was money. Drugs were money.
Food was money. For him, these two chained girls, the blonde girl with his spit dripping from her lips and the brunette, whose slurping could be heard over the explosions that littered the city, were money. They were his key to survival, as was he to them.
She was beautiful, the blonde, even in the midst of all of this insanity. Her hair was long and silky, her eyes deep blue, and she looked up at him as his cock disappeared down her throat. She was begging him with her eyes, begging him to cum.
She sucked deep and hard, gagging as she deep-throated his thick, eight-inch shaft. He held her head firm and began to fuck her face. He could feel, once again, the cum surge through his shaft, like the ammo coarsing through his M-16.
He pulled out of her mouth and with two strokes, exploded onto her face. The cum dripped down her forehead, in between her eyes and into her mouth. She licked what she could.
The rest she let drip, reveled in its hot warmth, its sweet stickiness. The brunette came up from the blonde’s legs and kissed her friend on the lips, dragging a single finger through a bit of cum that was on her cheek. She sucked the finger greedily and smiled.
He pulled the two girls to their feet and entered the tenement building from the basement level. They would go up to their sixth floor apartment, where he would stand guard at the window, overlooking New York, the East River black with blood and bodies. A whole world being eaten up by its own desires.