## Archive-name: yahweh.2

From: Jens Fallesen <fallesen@diku.dk>

Subject: Yahweh II

= This autobiographical excerpt contains material of an explicit violent and = = sexual nature. Press PF3 NOW if you are sensitive, wimpy, or are given to = = nausea, cramps, itches in your genitalia (oops, I mean nausea, headaches, = = nightmares, etc) at the mention of blood. Also, I don't represent no-one. =

OK, folks, it's here! I have finally gotten around to writing it, and I hope you won't be disappointed (I don't give a shit whether you are, though). I have been rather busy lately (lawsuits, cops, hiding various bodies, ahhh, but I digress, let us save that for another story). In any case, email me at the following address (not any other address than this one!): yahweh@isis.cs.du.edu here it is...

| YAHWEH the INCESTUOUS -part II |
| (Throw Mama in the Oven) |

After watching her croak, I did general housekeeping. I took a shower, cleaned the house, and organized the rooms in a convenient (for me, anyway) manner. I then got out the binoculars and watched the leslies next door go at it for a while. Soon I heard the car pull up (I've found that all cars have their own distinctive sound) and I went to open the front door for them. By herself, coming (soon to be cumming) up the stair is my mother, about eight months pregnant. We had the usual small talk while she took off her coat, and I finished drying my hair.
'So what have you two been up to?'
'Oh, nothing, Ma, she's in a *deep* sleep right now, where's dad?'
'He went to pick-up some beer for the game tomorrow, and get a movie to watch tonight. What did you two eat?'
'Well, I ate her, I mean hamburgers. She was all tied up for the night and didn't get a chance to eat. She was pretty upset, too, kept yelling and screaming. You should see her now, a totally different person than she was earlier!'
So we walked down the hall and into her room, she a little tipsy, and me almost bursting holding in my mirth. Her reaction to the state of the girl was so great that I didn't even need the lead pipe I had conveniently placed on the dresser directly to my left. She fainted right there, and I put the handcuffs on her motionless body. Dragged her into the basement (we have a guest-room down there) and cuffed her (they are those cheap metal ones that have a little switch instead of a key) spread-eagled to the bedposts. The big problem was that she is tall, and the cuffs afforded her a little movement. I then cut her clothes off and took my polaroids. I had forgot to bring down a gag, so once again I looked for the panties. Unfortunately this one didn't have a shit-stripe, so I went over to the dirty-clothes basket and brought over one of my socks. Whew...Doritos! with extra spice! She likes nachos, so this should please her. After I felt that she was secure, I stood back and looked at my patient. Her breasts, filled with milk, were spread out over the sides of her chest. The milk was warm, and slightly salty. She was coming around so I grabbed her face and told her that if she made any noise, I would get her parents and the mailman too.
I then prepared to greet my father. I stood behind the door with my lead pipe (cushioned with almost 3/4" of rags) in one hand, and one of those couch pillows in the other. Eventually, he returned, and came in the door. As he did, ***POW!*** It worked better than I thought! Instantly he was layed out on the front-room carpet (incidentally, the carpet probably saved the beer from a pre-mature consumption!). I dragged him down the basement stairs, (I wish I had a tape recorder, 'cause the sounds of his head hitting the stairs was hilarious). I took him over to the pulley system (we practically have a gym in our basement) and tied his arms to the pulleys, and his feet to the supports. Where-as my mother had been spread-eagled on the horizontal plane, he was spread-eagled on the vertical plane. To keep him company while I worked on Ma, I brought over a fan. I split a rubber-ball three-quarters of the way down, and, using a hot glue gun, afixed it to one of the blades of the fan. (after removing the cage around the blades). I placed in a strategic location between his legs, and propped it up with books until it just nicked the family jewels with the ball. I turned it on medium (on low it had problems with getting past the heirlooms). Sure enough, he came around. The look he gave wa s unreal, the yell was worse. (oops, forgot the gag when I dropped his drawers to expose him!) Instead of using my hand, I walked over to the toolbox and looked around. Aha! There it is! Bringing it over, I pryed open his mouth, but couldn't stick my tool in, so I got my sister's baseball bat (what in hell is that substance on the end of it?) and let him have it in the ass-kisser. That did it for the struggling (and for the lips, teeth, jaw, etc!). I stuck my little screw in, and, turning it, it expanded, and expanded, and expanded until his jaws popped apart. (it was one of those that you sink into a hole in concrete and expand so that you can lift it with a derrick or small crane). Try to yell through that! I ripped it out using the vice-grips. I retrieved my hot-glue gun, and proceded to fill his mouth with hot glue. I did this by placing a piece of cotton in the back of his throat and then gluing that in. I then glued his teeth to his cheeks (it funny because the cheeks puff out where you use the glue, and the smell of burnt flesh allways excites me). With all the air being force out his throat, and the glue not being comletely set, the cotton started to loosen, so I *really* glued it in good, causing a huge gash in one side of the throat due to my holding the gun there. One thing that intrigued me, though, was that there was no blood. Instant cauterization or did the glue block off the holes? About 15 glue sticks later, I had his mouth pretty much filled, so I went back to my mother, who must be lonely by now.
I wasn't very optimistic about my mom's holding up under long periods of torture, so I pretty much muffed her. I mainly wanted the baby while she was still alive (for many reasons) so I took care of that first. I grabbed a thin piece of wood we use for shimming things up, and beat her sides with it. She started breathing really heavy, so I pulled the gag off, and warned her again. No baby, but she was in labor, but I was impatient, so I resumed the beating. I hit her for about 5 minutes, until her sides were torn up good, and the occasional gasps had turned into turbulent breathing. Then I stopped and left her to bring out the shit. I had never delivered a child, so I wasn't sure what to do, and did nothing. She somehow forced the whole damn thing out. It came out head-first, and you should have seen that pussy stretch! It's quite a wonder, how they do this excapes me, but once again I digress. Taking my hatchet I lop of the umbilical cord so that I have maybe eight inches still attached to the baby. I have heard so many jokes about how the doctor slapped the baby that I am curious if I should. I really don't even want to touch this slimy, slippery, snot-covered shit-ball, but I guess I have to. Should I slap it on the head, face, stomach, back, or ass? Oh, fuck it (great idea! but that cums later, pardon the pun) I'll hit it everywhere. Crack, smack, boof, etc, and the pint-sized alligator turd (with appendages) let's out a yell like I didn't think possible (where's my glue gun?). I guess I must have cleared it's sinuses! (cleared it pretty well, too). It looks hungry, so I let it latch onto my ma's enormous vagina. It get's sucking on something, so I let it go. I happen to like a bit of psychological torture, so I get the mercury out. I open it, spill a little bit on a piece of paper, being careful not to touch it. I then open my mom's mouth and drop it down. Within an hour she should be raving-mad crazy, dead within the day! I take the baby off, and smear a bit of vaseline on the ass (it's a girl, I think). After drinking some milk (I bit the nipple off, accidentally), I eventually got me a boner up. Slowly I pulled it down, and then the screams actually got shriller! My ma seems to have fainted again, but I don't care, I am engrossed in pulling this huge- shrivelled-up pale-ass prune down ALL OF the way. About half-way, I feel this giving, and hear a tearing sound, looks like I'm in the intestines! The rest of the shaft goes in pretty easy, and the blood further lubricates the ride. My public hairs are getting blood-soaked, and my arms are getting tired. I finally go to orgasm, (going all but deaf too), and take the shit-monger up the stairs and into the kitchen. I put the baby on the table, and cut a piece off of its leg, arm, and stomach. I then tie it up in scotch-tape and stick it in the microwave. What setting is best for nuking a newborn? I'll have to do it the fairest way. eeniemeenieminiemo,catchashitheadbyhisballsifhehollersg rabthemsomemoreeeniemeenieminiemo...HIGH it is! I set it on 30 minutes on high (just to make sure the job gets done, we don't want SUPER NUCLEAR NEWBORN emerging, or have Wes Craven writing movies about babies who lived through a nuking, now do we?) and let it rip. Five minutes, and the baby seems to be bubbling in places (the blood is gushing out now), and I take a break to put the pieces in the freezer labeling them "Before being microed" I suddenly hear a pop, and some splattering sounds (if you've ever exploded a spud, you know what it sounds like, only louder) and I got there in time to see: massive amounts of blood boiling out of a split-open mondo-super economy sized spud! The microwave was wasted, blood all over, in fact, the steam that emanated, was blood, (evident by the fact that as it condensed it went red), I cut several more pieces off and labeled them "Post-Holocaust" I went back down stairs, and found that the mercury had, indeed worked. She was crazier than a cat in a room full of rocking-chairs! I Thought maybe I'd torture her for a while, but that soon proved to be no good, because it was apparent that she enjoyed my sanding her tits off with a palm-sander! I undid her, and butfucked her for a few minutes, then I went to the workbench (listening to her break her own fingers was music to my ears) and fixed the vise up. I brought her over, put her head in the vice and tightened it just enough so that she couldn't move. I then started using the palm-sander on my dad's kneecap, lightly, though, so that he would wake up and see his bitch in the predicament she was in. As he came around, I stopped sanding (just short of the knee-cap) and started to tighten the vice, very slowly. His eyes shot open, my mom yelling oh, it's so good! And I finished it. Her head was swelling slightly around the edges of the vice, and I heard a crack. As the skull cracked, the back of her head (she was face down in the vice) split wide open, and blood fell everywhere. I then grabbed hold of her arm, and, bracing my foot against the work-bench, yanked her arm out of it's socket (but not detaching it, unfortunately). I picked up the hatchet, and separated it. I did the same for all appendages (including the head), and brought everything upstairs, where I put it in the oven. (I put it on 350 degrees). I went to my room, downed a few beers, and took a short nap, with plenty of nice, gruesome wet dreams.

That, my evil-and-infinitely tasteless friends, is where I must leave-off with this installment of my three-part series YAHWEH the Incestuous. I don't want to give you a 1000 line long story. Part III (The cover-up) will be released in the next month or so, so keep wanking! Depending on reader-response, I may post other tales of torture and titillation, but maybe not! Once again, send all your fucking comments to yahweh@isis.cs.du.edu

Last modified (10/10/96 15:07:28) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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