173 lines
8.8 KiB
Plaintext
173 lines
8.8 KiB
Plaintext
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_____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________
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| ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ |
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| | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | |
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| | /________/ | | / / /________/ | |
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| | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | |
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| |________________________________________________________________| |
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|____________________________________________________________________|
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...presents... Last of the Expressionists
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by Haywire
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01/01/1996-#305
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__///////\ -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- /\\\\\\\__
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\\\\\\\/ Everything You Need Since 1986 \///////
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___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___ _ _ ___
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|___heal_the_sick___raise_the_dead___cleanse_the_lepers___cast_out_demons___|
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Tom slouched further into his chair. The day seemed to be dragging on
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even longer than usual, as the biology teacher yakked on and on about clams and
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clam food, mitochondria, and food chains.
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The Friday was like any other.
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In fact, this Friday was no different than the seeming eternity of school
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days that Tom had already slouched through. Each and every day spent staring
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at the clock, as if the force of his will could speed time itself. He shifted
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and realized that it was doing no good to depress himself.
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Talk of ribosomes and nuclei buzzed in the background as the high school
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student turned his pencil once again to the paper on his desk. He continued
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his drawing.
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He liked to draw. It was his favorite method of wasting time. It would
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look as though he was intent on his work, like all the other good little
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zombies, when in fact he was drawing nudes, cars, or dead cops.
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Today, it was a nude. The biology teacher, to be exact.
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His biology teacher was quite beautiful. Tom's sixteen-year-old hormones
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fueled his already impressive imagination and equally impressive drawing
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ability. Despite his fantasies, he still hated his teacher. Tom's hate was
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immense, and encompassed almost everything he could think of. But today, it
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was focused on his biology teacher.
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The pencilled teacher on the paper became endowed with the tattered
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remains of skimpy clothing. A ripped blouse, shredded panties, and a cruelly
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slashed bra were among the recognizable bits left hanging from the naked
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figure.
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Biology Teacher started to scribble notes on the board, and yapped
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on about the clam's specialized anterior muscles.
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The pencil sketch developed binding manacles and chains.
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Tom turned the page sideways. The somewhat languishing pose that the
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teacher held was drastically different at this new angle. He worked now on
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securing the chains to pencilled stone walls, trapping her in a submissive,
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twisted position on the cold stone of a dungeon.
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Tom shifted uncomfortably. The power he held over her image, as always,
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was giving him a powerful hard-on.
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The zombies around him opened their textbooks with a rustle to a page
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supplied by the droning background voice. Tom didn't pay any attention.
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A large reptilian figure was sketched into existence behind the pencilled
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teacher, a handful of her blonde hair viciously clenched in his clawed fist,
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and his other hand pushing on her back. Minute scales were added to the
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lizardman's body. The brutal rape scene coalesced faster by the second.
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Tom smirked to himself. "Now THAT's biology," he whispered. The girl in
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the desk next to him looked over, and he gave her his best fuck-off-and-die
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look. Her eyes widened slightly, as though he had spat a curse, and she turned
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back to her book.
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He turned back to his work. Sweat was added to the figures' bodies.
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Small wounds and blood appeared on the teacher's flesh. He added tears and
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a black eye as an afterthought. A long black tongue curled from the
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lizardman's open mouth, his eyes fixed on the meat impaled on his penis. Tom
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erased slightly, and drew the muscles in more taut than before. The lizardman
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was now not only fucking the hell out of his battered and bound biology
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teacher, but was holding and riding her as though his life depended on it.
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The bored teen sketched in another lizardman crouched down beside the
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first, his mouth open in a grotesque parody of the biology teacher's agonized
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expression. Tom drew a monstrous erection on the crouched lizardman, just for
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a frame of reference, in case there was any doubt as to what the teacher was
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going through.
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Tom had read the _Hustler_s and _Playboy_s like everyone else, but knew
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better than to believe the letters and stories about women fainting in pleasure
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from a 12-inch hot beef injection. Tom may have been inexperienced, but he
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wasn't stupid. Women didn't take that and ENJOY it. His knowledge of such
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things came from the university library a short ways from his house. The
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knowledge of what women LOOKED like came from the magazines.
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Moving his pencil over the page, he deepened the shadows in the perverse
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scene until the image was suitably darkened. He sat back and admired his work.
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Damn, he had done a good job. Too bad it was all on a shitty piece of workbook
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paper. His hard-on was straining by now, and Tom doubted that enough blood was
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left in his body to keep all of his limbs from going to sleep.
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The bell finally rang. The zombies packed up their books, and started to
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file out of the classroom. Tom folded up his notebook, the chains on his
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jacket ringing quietly as he did so, and moved to leave the room.
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"Just a minute there, Mr. Polnuck."
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Tom stopped just short of the door, and turned to face his teacher in the
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now-empty classroom. "Tom, you didn't hear me tell everyone to turn in their
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work." It wasn't a question.
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"No."
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The teacher sighed. She had no idea how Tom regarded her.
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"Tommy, did you in fact do any work at all?" she asked.
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Tom hated that name, but allowed himself a cosmetic smile.
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"Yes, I did."
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"Did you now?" Her expression brightened as only a first-year teacher's
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can. She was making progress! She had gotten through to a problem kid in a
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class that had twice this year driven her to tears.
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Tom didn't say anything.
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"Well, hand it in. What did you think of the project?" she beamed.
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Tom was smiling fully now. "Well, it was stimulating. There was just so
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much to say and write on the subject, but I managed to fit it all on one page,"
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he replied in his best preppie vocabulary. He pulled out the paper.
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"Well, I'm anxious to see it! I'm sure you did an excellent job." She
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outstretched her hand.
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Tom tossed the paper past her waiting hand, where it landed face-up
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on her desk. He didn't see her expression as he walked out the door and said
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over his shoulder, "Thanks... I'm kinda proud of it myself. See you on
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Monday."
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As he made his way down the empty stairs on that Friday afternoon,
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Tom truly, honestly smiled for the first time in weeks.
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.-. _ _ .-.
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/ \ .-. ((___)) .-. / \
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/ \ / \ .-. [ x x ] .-. / \ / \
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-/-------\-------/-----\-----/---\--\ /--/---\-----/-----\-------/-------\-
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/ \ / \ / `-(' ')-' \ / \ / \
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WORLDWIDE \ / `-' (U) `-' \ / WORLDWIDE
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`-' .ooM `-' _
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Oooo / ) __
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/)(\ ( \ Copyright (c)1996 Haywire and cDc communications. / ( /\
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\__/ ) / All rights reserved. Award-winning CULT OF THE DEAD COW \ ) \)(/
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(_/ is published by cDc communications, P.O. Box 53011, oooO _
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oooO Lubbock, TX, 79453, US of A. Edited by Swamp Ratte'. __ ( \
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/ ) /)(\ / \ ) \
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\ ( \__/ Save yourself! Go outside! Do something! \)(/ ( /
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\_) "THE COW WALKS AMONGST US" Oooo
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