Bøger af Gregor Cole

Brian tried to remember how all this started as he drove into the torrential night; it almost hurt his head trying to recall the events leading to this moment in time. Maybe it had started when he was at university. He had a girlfriend in his final year that had gotten him into some weird stuff sexually then she left him for a guy with a bigger cock. The other guy was some gay looking chump with muscles and a tattoo; the pair had died in a car accident and Brian took a dump on their graves after each of their funerals.Fuck the both of them. But after she had left him he needed to fill the void of the newfound enjoyment of sickening sexual practices. Brain had purchased one of those 'real life' sex dolls online from a Japanese company; the company had some kooky name like 'FUKARADA' or something. Crazy Japanese bastards, they really led the way in the perverse. Boy did the thing look real; you could bend it into any position and it came armed with enormous tits, willing mouth and a supposedly real feel pussy and anus. The packaging said to 'just add lubricant' but there was a problem. There was something missing; the smells, the tastes and the feel of real skin. You can't emulate that. So Brian set out to attempt to build a real life sex toy made from real life people.

THE LAST LUMP OF CRYSTALLISED CHEMICAL crackled away inside the burnt up light bulb. Fingers covered with soot clung to the makeshift pipe as his painted lips sucked out the smoke; the flame from the trembling disposable lighter catching the glitter in his blue afro. His eyes sunk into the smudged grease paint like piss holes in the snow. Pickles the clown slumped back into his chair as the smoke worked its magic in his lungs. The chemical being sucked up like a sponge by his near to kaput alveolar membrane into the pulmonary capillary's and into his blood stream. It rushed towards his brain adding yet another tiny black spot of damage to his grey matter. His eyes rolled up into his head as his body shivered from the first wave of intoxication and the world around him flushed away. He was buzzing from his big toe to his last hair follicle, a sensation of euphoric rapture as if his entire body was being licked by a million amateur porn starlets. His limp penis twitched with a pulse of stimuli from the drug signalling his return to reality and his eyes rolled back into the real world. The buzz passed as quickly as it had come leaving Pickles a little disorientated but still high as shit. Pickles had voided his bladder into his sweatpants. "Aw, fuck it!" He got up dizzy with the effects of the junk he had bought from Dominic the pimp earlier that morning and staggered towards the bathroom to fetch a towel. He pulled down the soaked sweatpants and threw them onto a heap of unwashed laundry. He washed his dick and his inner thighs in the sink with cold water then stared off into the mirror. The grotty bathroom looked like a stained glass window behind his gaunt made-up face as the residual effect of the drug changed his visual perception.He walked back out into the hallway; he would need cigarettes and some coffee, maybe a hit or two of sleeping tablets. The chemical in his blood would wear off soon enough and the comedown was hard. Pickles then stepped bare foot into a pile of cold cat shit. MORBIDBOOKS. READ LIKE THE DEVIL.