Free The House by Edward Lee Page A

preeminent packed breasts, the tan tummy, and the cute little farm-girl bellybutton. What was a farm girl doing on the Minnow anyway? Didn't she have fields to tend to? What the fuck was a farm girl  doing on a three-hour tour?
    The questions aside, the images sufficed. Leonard successfully ejaculated quite quickly into Plugger's penis, rifling what seemed a dozen hard spurts of semen.
    "Mmmmmm, a hot one," Plugger approved and winked.
    "Hey," Rocco cracked from behind the whirring camera. "Maybe you'll have a dick-baby!"
    Rocco and Knuckles busted out laughter.
    Leonard exhaled in a blurt, and withdrew, and with that came the most absurd thought of all: I just came in a man's dick...
    "Watch this, kid! This is great!" Rocco enthused.
    Sissy, on her knees, inclined her face toward the ceiling, open-mouthed like a chick awaiting nourishment from a dutiful hen. Plugger walked over, his fingers pinching off his urethra. Then he lowered the gargantuan cock to the target sight, released his fingers, and out fell all of Leonard's sperm directly into Sissy's waiting mouth.
    That was about it for Leonard; the acknowledgment that he had just had coitus with a penis was not easy to cope with, after all. Rocco gave back the camera, and Leonard filmed the rest in a mercifully forgetful blur: Plugger slicking his swollen penis up with Noxema, then sodomizing both girls until he eventually ejaculated white worms into Sissy's face.
    "What a man!" Rocco obliged later, and slapped Leonard on the back. "Your daddy'd be proud!"
    "Damn straight," added Knuckles. "I know mine would."
    Leonard, mind-blown, rather doubted that his dear, dead father would approve of his son's fornicating with another man's penis, not that he paid it much mind. Instead he retreated to the dark room to begin processing this latest snippet of dementia. There seemed no end, now, to the limits to which human sexual activity could be exploited for the purposes of perversion.
    And the girls, by the way, bled for days.

    ««—»»

    On the night they brought the pig, Leonard was in the cutting room trying to tune in the SoundDesign FM radio. (There was an 8-track player, too, and a record "changer.") Sometimes at night he could pull in D.C.-area stations, which were a godsend. Leonard had been weaned, so to speak, on WHMC from Montgomery County, Maryland, namely the Barry Richards Show, "The Home of The Heavy, Heavy Head"; back when music had some artistic integrity with the likes of Lothar and the Hand People, the original King Crimson (not this watered-down-for-money-with-some-bald-guy-in-the-group shit they were doing today), early Pink Floyd, and Sir Lord Baltimore, which made the hard rock of the '90s look like The Mickey Mouse Club. As the early '70s degraded into the mid-'70s, Richard's show bit the dust at about the same time as Chuck Colson and E. Howard Hunt. Along, then, came the next wave of music that was supposed to defy commercial strictures: Peter Hammill's terraschizoid warbling with Van der Graaf Generator, Throbbing Gristle, the Buzzcocks before Howard Devoto quit, Hawkwind, Robert Calvert, Adrian Wagner, Magma, the Fripp and Eno projects, and tons more good shit that perpetuated music as an art form. No Lemonheads in this bunch, fella. No doubt, there was no No Doubt, and you can bet your corona The Spice Girls weren't nothing but yet-to-be-produced sperm cells in their Brit daddies' balls where they really-really-really-really-really-really should've stayed.
    But that was then, and this was...well, this was a 1977 Mafia safehouse in rural New York into which broken down heroin addicts were forced to have sex with animals. All the local radio waves provided were evangelical stations and dim talk shows. However, on luck's infrequent visitations, Leonard could snatch WGTB from Georgetown University, and John Page's "Abstraction Show," or WAMU's "Rock and Roll Jukebox" which never  played rock and roll unless you consider Robert Wyatt, Perubu, and The