Hell of the Sex machine

Hell of the Sex machine

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

In this most evil of pleasure rooms, the ultimate in sadistic pleasure is acted with an infernal torture contraption that brings hell to the sex machine...

Summary

In this most evil of pleasure rooms, the ultimate in sadistic pleasure is acted with an infernal torture contraption that brings hell to the sex machine...

Content

Submitted: May 04, 2013

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: May 04, 2013

A A A

A A A


 

Shocking pink backdrop, title in white lettering. Juissance. Distorted high-pitched screams. Now blast of fusion, that most heinous of musical hybrids. Flash frame insert states: FOR THE PIGS.

Cut straight to action, no textualising, just the flesh carnival. Pretty decent film stock, klieg lighting. Extreme close up of what at first glance appears to be a penis of considerable length and girth ploughing a vagina, the labia lips inverted and then pulled outward. The shot is held for an interminable amount of time which allows the viewer to ascertain that while the female genitalia is not artificial the phallus certainly is, the chiselled veins threading the prosthetic member are colourless and too enraged to be realistic. Camera pulls back, showing the phallus' thrusts to be reliant on the metal stem embedded in it, which is issued from a box that looks like a black attaché case, the mechanics within propelling the sexual automaton back and forth.  The diagetic  orgasmic wailing is belied by the dreary representation of cleaved lip-shaped folds and dipping plastic. The camera goes in close again like a swine pursuing edible fungi, almost touching the visual spectacle in its eagerness to isolate and codify the simulacra of intercourse. It is just a blur of colours: pink lengthens and shortens in and out of an alternately dilating and compacting red hood.

"Oooo….aaahhh…" camp ebullition of a male.

"Baby…oh baby…that's it sugar…deep…deep…" voice is gruff, imploring, a parody of assertive masculinity. On the loop. Camera pulls back, static framing shot. Woman is naked in a dentist's chair. Her wrists are lashed to the armrests with two lengths of thick black chord, legs parted to form an obscene V, ankles hooked behind the base of the chair support. The flex binding her ankles has slipped a little; livid rings mark her Achilles tendons.  A single heartbeat. On the loop. Room is white and luminous, a B-movie vision of celestial splendour. A male stands either side of the female who has been narcotised or brutalised into mute submission. Listlessly she orally services the men in turn. Male A tilts her head to the right side and fucks her mouth. Stands back. Male B inclines her head to the left side, wipes his cock over her face, prises her mouth open wider with his fingers and drops his balls in the chasm. Cut to the black box, phallus still poking away. The black box is positioned on an iron gurney. Electrical flex trails out of shot. The males press the tips of their penises' together over the woman's mouth. Rapid cross cutting to movie clip of Eli Wallach and Lee Van Cleef, squaring up to the music of Ennio Morricone. Vultures rustling bleached bones. Flash frame insert of a .44 Magnum pointed at the male gaze. Barrel smokes. Still of woman's face, locked in distress. The still is tinted crimson. Loop relaxes…

Male A jacks off furiously, stands back and points penis upward. Close up of his face in profile; looks like he's passing a kidney stone as he admires the arc and trajectory of his ejaculate. Animalistic growl. The female now has black insulating tape covering her mouth and her eyes are trying to pop free from their sockets. Blood is dribbling from her nostrils and beads of semen are evident on her eyebrows and forehead. Girlish laughter, joyous and unrestrained. Cut to black box. Industrial noise. The plastic phallus has been taken off the metal shaft, which is now mutilating the sex organ. What resembles the tip of a screwdriver is patiently tearing her interior. Shot of Male B waggling his cock over the female's mouth. Male A rips tape off. The female stares at the camera with an amalgamation of terror and incredulity. Cock slaps her. Freeze-frame. Penis and mouth are solarised. Cut to Male B's face, pursed lips and sucked in cheeks, eyes scrutinising his pallet. Back to cock. He decorates the corpse's face with his semen in the manner of a pastry chef icing a name on a child's birthday cake.

The huge illuminated signs/

Electrical installations through which the city is controlled/

Theatres we belong to.

 


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