are more like eyeballs. They have pupils and veins in them. Once they arrive to my sitting position, they move their pupils in my direction. Eyeing me up and down, eyeing my cunt, sniffing it with their nerve clusters.
And then most of the eyeballs move away from me, scurry across the floor and into the giant cunt on the wall, and disappearing inside.
Two little ones have decided on staying by my feet, glancing at my vagina and then at my eyes and then at my vagina, like a puppy.
From inside the slit on the wall, I see the eyeballs peering out at me, observing. And then the vagina curls its lips into the shape of a mouth and begins to speak.
"You are a dildo," says the giant cunt.
I don’t know what to say, watching the eyeballs in the cunt stare at me spider-like.
The giant cunt continues, "You were manufactured for sex, a fuck toy, like a dildo. You are just a dildo that can walk and talk."
I have a soul, I tell the giant cunt.
"You are just a dildo that can walk and talk and possess a soul," says the giant cunt. "But a soul is not all too significant a feature to possess."
What is a significant feature? I ask the giant cunt.
"A cunt," says the giant cunt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Who are you? I ask the giant cunt.
"I am The Something That Lives Inside of Cunts," says the giant cunt. "I live inside of all cunts, including yours."
And I look down at my cunt to notice the two tiny eyeballs at my feet have managed to sneak by my legs and into my vagina, now staring out of it at me.
"I am the closest thing you have to a god."
I don’t understand, I tell the giant cunt, not looking it in the eyes.
"A dildo rarely understands," says the giant cunt. "The only thing a dildo understands, or needs to understand, is sex."
But what about a soul? I ask the giant cunt.
"A soul was created to make sex more exciting," says the giant cunt.
When I was being manufactured, I was told that sex was invented for reproduction, I tell the giant cunt.
"No," replies the giant cunt. "It is backwards. Reproduction was invented for sex, to make sex more constructive."
What about Heaven? I ask the giant cunt.
"Heaven is where a bunch of angels live," says the giant cunt. "Angels are creepy old men who masturbate all day long, watching human beings have sex. The world is their pornography."
I thought it was paradise, I say to the giant cunt.
"Only on orgy days," says the giant cunt. "Or whenever God has sex with you."
God fucks me, I say to the giant cunt.
"It was divine, wasn’t it?" asks the giant cunt.
I prefer Celsia, I tell the giant cunt.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Crashing-banging breaks the quiet in halves.
Smashing sounds from outside trying to get in, a whole army of crashings. They are trying to get through the barricade outside, to get to me, to fuck me.
The rapists have come, I tell the giant cunt.
"Oh, good-good," says the giant cunt.
Aren’t you scared? I ask the giant cunt. They will rape you to death.
"Embrace the rapists," says the giant cunt. "They are my children."
I don’t like them, I cry to the giant
And then most of the eyeballs move away from me, scurry across the floor and into the giant cunt on the wall, and disappearing inside.
Two little ones have decided on staying by my feet, glancing at my vagina and then at my eyes and then at my vagina, like a puppy.
From inside the slit on the wall, I see the eyeballs peering out at me, observing. And then the vagina curls its lips into the shape of a mouth and begins to speak.
"You are a dildo," says the giant cunt.
I don’t know what to say, watching the eyeballs in the cunt stare at me spider-like.
The giant cunt continues, "You were manufactured for sex, a fuck toy, like a dildo. You are just a dildo that can walk and talk."
I have a soul, I tell the giant cunt.
"You are just a dildo that can walk and talk and possess a soul," says the giant cunt. "But a soul is not all too significant a feature to possess."
What is a significant feature? I ask the giant cunt.
"A cunt," says the giant cunt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Who are you? I ask the giant cunt.
"I am The Something That Lives Inside of Cunts," says the giant cunt. "I live inside of all cunts, including yours."
And I look down at my cunt to notice the two tiny eyeballs at my feet have managed to sneak by my legs and into my vagina, now staring out of it at me.
"I am the closest thing you have to a god."
I don’t understand, I tell the giant cunt, not looking it in the eyes.
"A dildo rarely understands," says the giant cunt. "The only thing a dildo understands, or needs to understand, is sex."
But what about a soul? I ask the giant cunt.
"A soul was created to make sex more exciting," says the giant cunt.
When I was being manufactured, I was told that sex was invented for reproduction, I tell the giant cunt.
"No," replies the giant cunt. "It is backwards. Reproduction was invented for sex, to make sex more constructive."
What about Heaven? I ask the giant cunt.
"Heaven is where a bunch of angels live," says the giant cunt. "Angels are creepy old men who masturbate all day long, watching human beings have sex. The world is their pornography."
I thought it was paradise, I say to the giant cunt.
"Only on orgy days," says the giant cunt. "Or whenever God has sex with you."
God fucks me, I say to the giant cunt.
"It was divine, wasn’t it?" asks the giant cunt.
I prefer Celsia, I tell the giant cunt.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Crashing-banging breaks the quiet in halves.
Smashing sounds from outside trying to get in, a whole army of crashings. They are trying to get through the barricade outside, to get to me, to fuck me.
The rapists have come, I tell the giant cunt.
"Oh, good-good," says the giant cunt.
Aren’t you scared? I ask the giant cunt. They will rape you to death.
"Embrace the rapists," says the giant cunt. "They are my children."
I don’t like them, I cry to the giant
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