Tag Archives: Crime

Bad Day: Queen For A Day, Part Four – Short Story

The world was spinning like a fucking merry-go-round on crack as Shera the princess of power picked me up and forced my head in between her massive thighs setting me up for a perigee while also dousing my head with a vomit worthy offering of rank pussy juice. She drove my face into the ground without a whole lot of care, and wiggles her massive arse cheeks like they were part bulldozer, squishing my face into the concrete beneath us. I tried to force her away, but she started bobbing for apples on the back of my head, causing me to black out at least once, maybe twice. When I came back to reality she was off me and helping Sergio to his feet.

“Think you’re something special, don’t you pig dog?” He says as he takes a running kick, and lands his high heel wearing foot into my boys, I screamed and doubled over in agony. He laughed and pulled me up by my ears, Shera grabbed my arms and forced them behind me.

“I’m going to make you suck my cock dry, and then I’m going to kill you pig dog,” Sergio said with a high pitched cry, obviously whatever hormones he was shooting into his arse was wearing off, because it wasn’t only his voice that was changing as I was pretty sure he was growing facial hair before my eyes.

Anyway, I felt his semi hard cock slap against the side of my face, and then he tried to force it into my mouth but I wasn’t about to let this piece of shit fuck my mouth without buying me dinner first.

Shera pulled my arms back tighter, causing me to scream out in pain giving old mate his chance. Fucking almost forced me to bring up my lunch as his fully hard cock hit the back of my throat, unfortunately for Sergio the only reflex it set into motion was the lock jaw one. I bit down like a mother fucker who didn’t have anything left to live for, and was surprised how easy it was, like biting through a gummie snake.

Old mate screamed, Shera smashed me in the back of the head, and I hit the ground free of attention as she rushed to old mates side as he knelt on the ground screaming about his missing cock. Honestly, a guy that far gone should be thanking me for doing what he obviously didn’t have the guts to do. I stumbled to my feet the same time as Shera turned to see what I was up to, so I drove a knee into her face.

I’d like to tell you she went down and I John Handcocked them both before disappearing into the night, but it didn’t happen that way.

I drove my knee into that woman’s face eighteen time before she showed signs of any ill effect. Then after all that she somehow managed to force me to the ground, and started wailing away at me like I’d just told everyone at school that she had jerked me off behind the bike shed. I forced some space between us then drove a knee up into her throat, and locking the other up and over it then grabbed on for dear life as I locked in the devil triangle. Desperately she tried to free herself and take a breath, I tightened my grip. Each time she tried to pick me up from the ground I pulled my knee into her throat some more until eventually her eyes literally popped out of her head and she collapsed on top of me. I laid there for a few moments holding on just to ensure she was definitely off my to do list, before finally kicking her to the side and slowly getting to my feet.

I almost instantly stumbled to my knees with exhaustion, clutching my throbbing head as I sat there for a few before once again forcing myself up.

I looked over at old mate as he sat there bleeding out and smiled as I chewed on what was left of his dick that was still inside my mouth, before spitting the little piece of flaccid flesh out at his feet.

“Sorry, I don’t swallow for anyone not even a queen like you.”

Bad Day: Queen For A Day, Part Three – Short Story

“You think you can around killing members of my family and live pig dog?” The well libricated voice of Sasha Villmemore hisses. Sasha was vomited from his mother’s vigina and slapped with the name Sergio Segligari before he’d even cried his first shit scared tear when he first clapped his eyes on his old man, and dog ugly mother Bertha. His life was and future was already decided for him before he witness his dad strangling the life out of one of his bitches, but when Sergio realised he had the gift of deep throating any sized cock, he changed his gender to a forty-four double-D with seven inches packed under the hood and a new name too boot. Once old boy had all the right pieces in place, and not in place, he started his own online empire away from the old ways of the family. Daddy was never happy, but when Mika and Veronica stepped up he obsessed less and I’m pretty sure beat off openly to his son. Anyway, let’s get back to the important shit because while I’ve been giving you the vita background on Sergio, he’s been running his mouth about all the wicked things he’s going to do to me, and none of them sexual. Unless of course when he said he was going to literally fuck me up the arse and cum over my face, was actually what he meant and not just some friendly banter.

I spat some blood on the floor, and threw a glance over my left locking eyes with one of the girls who’d serviced my pole early. I’m pretty sure she looked a whole lot prettier alive than she did with the blank expression she had then on her pale empty dead face.

I could hear old boy in the background yelling something crude, but I was mesmerised by dead Barbie’s lips. It wasn’t exactly her lips that was the mesmerising thing, it was the fact that fifteen minutes ago they had been firmly pressed around the base of my cock as I dropped some never-gonna-be kids in her stomach, you could call it a religious event. Sergio wasn’t happy that I wasn’t there with him in his conversation, so he drove the heel of his size thirteen high-heels into my hand adequately bringing me back to reality.

”Are you listen to me fuck face?” He growled while he twisted his foot around as if stamping out a cigarette. I gritted my teeth together and pulled my nuts in knowing there wasn’t much good for my sorry arse if I laid down and gave the crying game his moment in the sun, so I thrust up with my free hand and punched Sergio in what little was left of the body he was born in and somehow got to my feet. But Sergio had one more surprise waiting in the wings for me in the form of his wet nurse. The freak of nature was built like a fucking skyscraper, and she went full on Chyna on me. Easily tossing me into the air, then catching me into a pop up power bomb, that sent stars across the landscape of my now busted mind as I hit the ground….

to be concluded…

Bad Day: Queen For A Day, Part Two – Short Story

The world was a mess as the second boot connected with the side of my head, and I went twisting all around the pool, except there was no pool and I wasn’t really twisting, it was more like cascading to the floor like a free flowing tap.

“Rat bastard!” I head a woman’s voice hiss, I looked up and noticed the whore more from how far her legs went up than how pretty ugly she was. Veronica Segligari, second to the Don aka the self proclaimed toughest cunt in the room, who happened to have just expired a few moments ago. Veronica and me went way back, I’d blown in her hole once or twice and she’d ridden the tongue lane a few times, but she wanted nothing to do with me when I’d deliberately killed her brother Mik. Anyway, none of that is important right now, all you need to know is Veronica disliked me a lot and that would be heightened more so right now because I just offed her old man.

“I’ve been waiting so long for today that I’m wetter than I’ve ever been before,” she said with a purr.

“Sandpaper,” I came back with before someone drove another boot into me then pulled my hair back.

“Still the show off to the very end, how pathetically pathetic,” she said.

As her words settled into my spinning brain, and as the blood soaked into the gel that makes up almost all of my eye I suddenly heard Lemmy’s cigarette soiled vocals call out to me in his signature sheer, followed by a heavy guitar riff and I knew it was time to play the game the only way I knew how.

I drove myself upwards, breaking pretty boys nose over his face, then launches myself like a spear towards the ugly twins. All three of us hit the ground with a rocking thump, but I was in the middle of my hulk up and the crowd was cheering with more excited he than the first 30 players in the Huston 500, because no one wanted to be in that last 100 when the sloppy mess that was left was all that was left.

I flip myself to my feet like HBK during his final run, not totally shit but no where near his glory days.

I ate a sharp hot poker in the chest that sent be back down, it burnt for a few moment but once bullets started ricocheting off the concrete near my head I knew if I didn’t move this spot would be a permanent location for my remains to rot.

I sucked in all the energy I have and emulated HBK once more, and quickly danced into some sweet chin music, laying Clive no eyes down for the count.

I heard the gun cock moments before the explosion of the bullet leaving the chamber. Using what little reflexes I had left, not so pretty anymore boy became my human shield and ate all sixteen bullets before upping his usefulness as a bartering ram.

As I lay on top of pretty fucking ugly boy, staring into Veronica’s hate filled eyes I put my hand on the handle of a revolver tucked in he once had a face that launched ships and low it sinks them’s belt.

“What the fuck are you smiling at bandito? You think you have won? We are the serpent, you cut one head off another will rise. We ar…..” she never got to finish whatever story she was in the middle of telling as I pulled the trigger on the conversation.

When Killdone and the other showed up the party was long over, but something the fat fuck said stuck with me for a few hours, until Beth and Anne sucked my meat dry a few times.

He repeated a bit of her tale, about so many heads and more coming. Honesty it’s what made me end up at Chesty’s House Of Hardcore, all that talk about heads and coming got me all in the mood for some me time. So when the cold barrel pressed itself against the back of my skull I was surprised…

to be continued….

Bad Day: Queen For A Day, Part One – Short Story

The saltiness of my blood hit the back of my throat and forced a suction like effect to take place, leaving me to desperately struggle for a breath. My concentration thankfully was broken some seconds later as another fist hit me in the side of the jaw, dislodging another tooth. I felt something grab at my hair and pull my head back, bringing the world of darkness that had been my friend for the last few moments into an explosion of colours and sounds.

“Tell me where the old fucker is or I will jerk your cock off until you spray your seed across my face!” The self proclaimed toughest cunt in the room growled in a thick accent that I’m sure I completely miss-understand, but I’m the one telling the story so that’s the version you’re going to get.

“What the fuck!” I say after spitting out a mouthful of blood and teeth, it got me another closed fist to the side of face. The fucker holding the few strands of hair left on my head readjusted his grip and drove another powerful punch into my nose, spreading it across my face like crunchy peanut butter.

“Don’t try my patience, for I am a full of estrogen and my glands are swelling with milk, in these things and those that will follow you will find that I do not value your life as much as you do! Where I come from we talk with our actions, sucking all the cock we can, and never swallowing! NEVER! But you, you people, you try to make out you have big cocks to scare our mouths in submission, but it never works because no cock is too big! Now tell me where you have taken my brother, and I will make your death one of less pain!” Once again I’m not sure if I heard all his words correctly, but I’m sure my translation is pretty close to the mark.

I forced a smile, and winked at him before finally sealing the deal with a cheeky kiss. He launched himself up from the toilet seat he was sitting on, without even wiping his arse mind you, and rushed towards me thrusting his goons out of the way as he did. Of course this was a mistake that he didn’t fully realise until my fist hit his throat.

He stumbled  backwards clutching at his throat while he tried to catch a breath, but it was never going to happen. I’d hit a lot of guys in the throat over the years, and if I’m honest, it never failed to reap its rewards. As the bucket of love muscles  falls to his knees, one of mine connects with his nose and sent his then motionless body to the ground.

“Who’s next?” I asked with excitement as I turned around, looking down the barrel of a revolver.

“You are!” The goon hissed as he pulled the trigger, but the gun gave him no dice. I did some pretty cool shit that you’ve only ever slightly seen before, and ended up with the same gun thrust in the goons face, as we laid there close enough to kiss and he laughed like a little school boy who’d just realised he’d been calling his best friend by the wrong name for the last two years.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“You Englishman, you think I forget that the gun is empty?”

This moment allowed me to smile for the second time in so many minutes. “The difference between me and you is vast, just like the difference between what a gun does with the safety on,” I say as I pulled the trigger, removing half his head. “And with the safety off,” I added afterwards. I’d only just started to get to my knees when a burning sensation erupted in the back of my head and the ground rushed up towards me….

to be continued….

11 (ELEVEN) Stages Of Hell – Daily Grind

Greetings from the darkened shores of my twisted roads, it’s been sometime since we last spoke, how are you? I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while, but I promise that is going to change as we progress through February.  

If you’ve been visiting regularly over the last week (because nothing much else has been happening otherwise) you would notice something different happening (no, not different, more like something more twistedly bizarre.)

Let me formally welcome you to the 11 stages of hell.

11 twisted albums of pure drivel, each piece writes itself without shame or apology.

Each collection gives permission for the last to exist, with each piece of disturbing prose guiding you and I on a trip deep inside, with another more volatile voice daring us to go deeper the further we go.

So please, stick around  for the ride, it’s only just getting started.

Cheers,

Matt

Bad Day: Chinaman, Part Three – Short Story

Three broken fingers, a cracked sternum, two holes in my left shoulder, a broken nose, the worst fucking headache I’ve had this side of Joey Laurence’s bucks night and a clamp on each testical was what greeted me when I came back to reality. China hadn’t has the balks to remove me from the equation just yet, probably incase I’d peeled my lid and squealed the night away like your dad did when he shot his warm load into your mum’s cunt.

China was bent on getting enough meat off my bones before he’d pull the pin, but I just goaded the prick on. I’d never spilt any secrets before, and China was gonna poo my cherry.

The first few volts burnt more than burnt, don’t take that like I’m talking myself up, but I’m pretty sure if it was you sitting there, you’d be bawling your sissy eyes out.

He started ordering thug one and two around in his native tongue, and they quickly jumped to order like their lives depended on pleasing the slant-eyed fuck. I spat a wad of cream from my mouth and let fly with a few obscenities that pulled all slant-eyes back to me, then let the piss rip. I said enough about Jackie and Bruce to get China all the way to snapsville and he threw just the sort of girly punch I wanted from him, I felt my jaw shift in place and my mouth filled quickly with blood. One of his boys grabbed at him like a little kid trying to catch an ice cream he just dropped, in other words  it was pathetic display of skillful adults. China knocked his boy away and let rip with another slap that wound put Rick Flair to shame, and just like HBK did on almost every occasion he found himself on the losing end of someone else’s top maneuver, I overreacted the fuck out of the impact, which just spurned China on even more. It was the fourth of fifth slap of shame that finally yielded the desired result of sending me cascading backwards and crashing to the floor. The chair shattered as did my wrist, but I didn’t let that stop me from scrambling to my feet and planting a right hook to thug two’s temple, he staggeded backwards as I delivered another right followed by a haymaker of a left that dislodged a piece of his skull straight into his soft delicate pink marshmallow brain. Then out of nowhere thug number one dropped a suicide gut cruncher that almost decapitated me, followed up with a leg swipe that sent me back to the floor, I actually heard birds singing their fucking stupid songs. Reality slipped back in as one was bringing a boot down toward my head, and I shifted arse outta the way just in time as his foot landed with the force of a baby elephant next to my skull. I grabbed, twisted my legs up his docile frame, locked a cross armbar in place, pulled his arm out of joint and brought him to the ground better than John Cena had ever brought anyone down in his three moves of a career.

As I stood slowly up, like the hero out of so many awesome eighties movies Chinaman raised his revolver towards my head.

Stalemate he said, in his shitty fucking broken English and I smiled, he smiled back as if we were sharing a moment but my smile meant something entirely different to his.

By the time he figured out we weren’t both thinking the same thing I had his wrist twisted and the barrel of his revolver stuck up under his nose.

Bang, I said with a small hint of sarcasm. He flinched then nervously smiled just before I pulled the trigger.

Bad Day: Chinaman, Part Two – Short Story

Now that we’re all on the same page, and you’ve caught up to where I’m at let’s get to the business at hand.

Chinaman started spewing some shit about the end of days, how he was going to take the family business in a new direction and partnerships like the one his brother Jackie had with Killdone was gonna be a thing of the past.

I started yelling at him about how this wasn’t his country and no one would allow a slant-eyed fucked like him run the city. Seemed he didn’t like my comment, in fact I think it pissed him off, which was exactly what I wanted.

The fucker showed me his Kung-Foo moves, assisted by a thumping Daft-as-fuck-Punk soundtrack to boot. Sadly for China the only thing that connected was his ball’s and my twelve-inch boot, steel-cap first of course.

He when down like a sissy girl taking her first anal insertion from a fifteen inched Maui surfer dude with a itty bitty loin cloth covering his snake in the grass.

That’s when Jackie’s boys showed up ready to take me down to funky town, they figured it’s best to keep to their own skin tone, even if Chinaman’s was a bit greener than normal.

They moved in unison, one quickly following the other like Miley Cyrus’ neatly shaved   snatch in that wrecking ball film clip. You all know the one I’m talking about, of course we all remember it more because Ron Jeremy ended up doing it better in his piss take version and he didn’t even need to get his massive cock out.

Anyway, they came at me screaming shit in whatever language they mastered their tongue in, besides knob shining that is. I drove the heel of my foot into the head of the first, then used his overly large blade, seems the fella felt he need to compensate for a tiny dick, to behead the next guy who was in my reach.

That’s when the first shot ripped into my shoulder, the second wasn’t that far behind it. I hit the dirt like a piece of well placed dog shit on the neighbor’s front lawn.

I scrambled to my feet as Jet Li showed up on my back, sinking his girl like teeth into the back of my neck. Lucky for me I’d been in a lot of fights with the opposite sex so I knew where her weakness was, and scruffed her by the hipster bun she had on her head and pulled her over the top, then drove two well placed punches to each of her tits and the lost my shoe in her snatch. China decided it was time to get back in the mix and slashed off to the left with a tiny cue stick, I felt the blade tear across my face like a winters breeze and that’s when the lights started to go out.

Chinaman must’ve laced the blade with something special…

Bad Day: Chinaman, Part One – Short Story

There is proactive, and then there is reactive. One means to get shit in place and sorted before the can is kicked across the yard, while the other is more about figuring out what to do now that some has kicked the can across the yard while you’re standing there with a runny shit slowly soaking through your pants, which by fact also allows you to give birth to your new nickname, Shit Stains. Regardless of how the how’s and why’s took place, I’m at the crossroads of one of those situations right now. Not the shit stains part, but just a step or two before it.

Three hours ago a little turd by the name of Tommy Chinaman walked into one of Mr Killdone’s cleaning joints and popped a load into everyone of the shemps, emptied all the washing machines and walked tha fuck out of the building with three hundred and twenty-seven coins.

Normally shit like this is a straight up kill shot kinda deal, one where we string the body up on his home turf to stir the locals into fevered morons so we could justify the extra body count. But the boss has some pretty important business ties with Chinaman’s brother that wouldn’t benefit from dropping our load prematurely. 

So instead the boss set up a meet and greet between us and Jackie Chan to sort the shit from the corn. The meet went sour straight away, I’m guessing Jackie is still bitter about Chuck Norris being a better Kung-Foo fighter than he is, and probably for killing his other brother Bruce a few years before.

Anyway, we showed him the video from the laundromat, and then he argued over it with us on how it could’ve been anyone as Chinaman’s face was obscured for almost all of the footage.

Once that battle was looking lost Jackie switched his angle and started arguing over how racist he though us white pin dicks were. Once more he found little to no hope, ending up with Filipo dropping his monster out on his face while Bruno and I held him down. It was then that we built the crescendo of the night to its fevered high with a firefight as Jackie’s brother Chinaman crashed our little party like Sally Flubberlips, the one hundred and thirty pound stripping assassin, who’d crush your legs during her world-famous last chance lap dance.

Which brings me back to the whole reactive, proactive shtick from the beginning.

My boys, along with two of Jackie’s sit waiting for their hole to be dug while old Kung-Foo sing is still standing tall like Elton John at a junior pool boy party of the year contest.

Chinaman starts arguing with Jackie over some deal they had, the language barrier is crossed and I’m stuck there listening to them without subtitles, which doesn’t sit well with me at all.

I’m not sure how you are with that sort of situation, but I’m impatient as fuck and generally change the channel. I must’ve caught the corner of Jackie’s eye, because the Tibetan Monk leapt in front of his brother as I was raising my revolver. He screamed at me in Cantonese, or Mandarin, or it could’ve even been fucking Russian for all I knew. Regardless of whatever bullshit tongue Jackie was slipping into his arsehole, he was yelling at me and I’d had enough so I fired a shot at his head, just as a warning. He dropped to the ground like Jenna Haze’s itty bitty bikini, leaving me and Chinaman to decide over the fate of who gets to tell everyone what really happened.

Pitfalls Of The Famous – 50 Word Story

She sits unmoving, as the dark pool of red that sits beneath her lifeless corpse slowly congeals.
“You know you’ve fucking killed me, don’t you? You know that! You fucking know it, RIGHT?” He screams.
“Don’t just fucking sit there, answer me! You owe me that at least!” He says.

Daily Grind – The Roundhead – Definitive Edition

One year ago today, The Roundhead truly began, the fist post of its 7 day story arc still holds the biggest hit my blog ever achieved. Now today, well, more like yesterday by the time this is actually posted. The Roundhead has once again graced October with its presence, this time, in a more complete format, with bells and whistles to boot, with a  killer cover by the ever amazing Yazgar!

I present to you.

THE ROUNDHEAD

DEFINTIVE EDITION

Marty Towns didn’t know the story you’re about to read, a story he believed he had written, would free an ancient evil that was trapped just outside the edge of our reality. An evil born, without sin, without a soul, that hungers for ours to fuel its one desire, vengeance on he who imprisoned it. As each victim falls, they rise again as the beasts dark herald, diseased by its touch, forced to foretell of its coming to the next who shares its words, the next to feel its cold embrace.  

And as the world struggles to survive against the beasts path of destruction, another battle is fought, in-between the words of the story, on another plane of existence, and it will be this battle that will decide who survives.

Will you dare read it? Will you dare share it?

Will you become the next victim of,

THE ROUNDHEAD?

Definitive Edition Bonus Features

The Original Roundhead Short Story.

The Complete Blog Version Of The Roundhead, Including All Preludes and Poems.

The Dagan – A Bonus Short Story Inspired By The Roundhead.

Facing Your Fears – Original Concept-Art By Yazgar. (paperback only)

Fear The Roundhead – A Preview Of The Sequel To The Roundhead.

DON’T MISS OUT ON THE FULLY FLESHED OUT VERSION OF THE SHORT STORY, THAT SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF READERS!

Available to buy in ebook or paperback format from Amazon HERE, (please make sure your geographical location is set to your country so you can purchase a copy) as well as all other ebook suppliers.