Big Trouble In Little Ass: A Novella Read online

  This queenshit attitude of hers had to go.

  He smiled as coldly as she. “I’ve a better idea,” he said. “How about we forget sex altogether, and I just slap the shit out of you instead? How much do you charge for an ass whupping? I’ve handed out several good ones of recent.”

  Nell attempted staring Jude down. She saw the ghosts of the men he’d killed in his eyes, and thought better of it.

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Cheapskate, I’ll do you tonight.”

  She stripped naked, then lay back in the bed and spread her legs wide.

  Jude gasped on seeing her private parts. Maybe he should have let her remove her uppity fanny from his room.

  Nell’s clitoris was a two-foot-long tentacle. Pink, and pinky-finger thick, it was coiled like a hog’s tail.

  Nell pulled the meat tendril out to its full length. When she let go, it snapped back down like a spring.

  “This is my tentaclit,” she said snottily. “It’s why I fucking cost more than the other girls — I’m the best pleasure money can buy. You like it?”

  The coiled tentacle held Jude’s attention like a magnet. He gulped. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  Below Nell’s two-foot-clitoris, her vagina gaped. The opening was normal, pink and moist. Its labia were small and delicate.

  Seductress now, Nell licked her lips and squeezed her nipples. She twirled her vaginal tentacle around a thumb. “Well, take your shirt off, Jude, and join me. Your peter ain’t gonna pull itself.”

  Jude smiled. Nell pronounced ‘pull’ as ‘Paul.’

  ***

  They sat facing each other on the bed, propped on quilted pillows. Their legs were parted, with Jude’s bent over Nell’s. Jude’s penis stuck up proud as a Confederate Army flagpole.

  Nell lubricated her tentaclit with lard, and then coiled it around Jude’s erection.

  She looked at him with cryptic eyes. “Just relax. Let me take you to heaven.”

  Jude relaxed back onto the pillows.

  Nell relaxed too. Her face took on a trance-like expression.

  Her tentaclit began sliding up and down over Jude’s penis.

  Shit, Jude thought. The damn thing works. Gripping him tighter than a virgin’s vagina, the sexual tentacle milked Jude’s penis.

  Jude groaned with pleasure. His penis became the center of his universe.

  Nell moaned with her own pleasure. Eyes shut, her eyelids fluttered like butterflies. Her breasts gleamed with sweat, her tongue danced over her lips. Her body was taut as a banjo string.

  Her eyes popped open. “Jude, it’s getting like the Arizona Desert down there. Lard us up again, will you?”

  Jude picked up the jar of pig grease and smeared a dollop over their joined sexes.

  Nell nodded. “That’s better.” She shut her eyes again. The tentaclit resumed its up/down motion over Jude’s erection.

  It squeezed him harder now, stroked him faster and faster.

  Nell’s sexual tension peaked. Waves of erotic pleasure blew her far out on a sea of sensation. Then her nerves capsized her in orgasm, leaving her stranded on an isle of indescribable experience. She collapsed back, limp on the pillows, feeling wonderfully destroyed.

  Her tentaclit continued stroking Jude, but more languidly.

  Nell opened her eyes. “Come inside me now,” she commanded.

  Her tentaclit furiously jerked him toward her.

  Jude rolled over onto Nell, and slid his penis inside her in one uninterrupted stroke.

  She gasped as he filled her. Jude gasped too. The feel of her flesh around him as he entered her was painfully exquisite. She was a well of sensation he was diving into.

  Nell’s tentaclit curled around between Jude’s buttocks and tickled his anus. Then it wrapped itself around his testes and tugged on them, while he pumped into Nell like a steam-powered piston.

  Nell spread her legs so wide that Jude imagined this yellow-haired girl was the abyss. He felt her absorbing him into herself.

  Jude’s pleasure peaked also. With a sexual explosion the like he’d never experienced, his semen poured into her.

  Jude went limp on Nell, his mind momentarily wiped clean of all he was here in Little Ass to do.

  They fell asleep like that.

  CHAPTER 4

  Jude’s door exploded off its hinges. Jude and Nell both woke up abruptly and spilled apart.

  Shotgun in hand, Ike Dallas stepped in through the smashed woodwork.

  Behind him entered his two assistants, Claudio and Jonas. Like Ike, both men were tall and thin, and looked wicked. Both wore gray ponchos and held six-shooters at the ready.

  Staring at the pair on the bed, Ike wondered how Jude had gotten on with Nell’s sexual peculiarity.

  He frowned at them both.

  “Sorry to disturb y’all lovebirds,” he said. “But I been hearing a rumor that our visitor Jude here, ain’t a peaceful sort. I heard he’s a plannin’ to murder Mr. Bennett.” He pointed his shotgun at Jude. “Now, Sir, if that’s true, I need to kill you.”

  Nell pulled the bed sheet over herself. She looked aghast at Jude. “You’re here to kill Edison Bennett?”

  Jude shook his head. “Not true.”

  Ike laughed. He looked from Claudio to Jonas.

  “Unfortunately, Mr. Jude,” Jonas said, “even if it ain’t true, we’s gone kill you just the same — just in case you’se lyin’.”

  ***

  Afterward, Ike Dallas was unable to really describe what happened next. Because it was so implausible.

  He fired at Jude, but Jude was already in motion. The air filled with feathers from disintegrated pillows.

  Nell squealed. Hugging her sheet over her breasts, she made herself as little as possible in the far corner of the bed.

  Jude dove off the bed to where his clothes were piled on the floor. His white pistol was in his hand in a flash.

  Ike swiveled the shotgun to point at Jude again, but Jude fired first.

  The white revolver made no sound at all.

  Ike reacted faster than his companions. He ducked to his right. The bullet streaked past him, hitting Claudio.

  There was a moment of stasis — a frozen pin-point of eternity when nothing happened — then Claudio jerked stiffly upright.

  A mass of bone spikes suddenly punched out of both sides of Claudio’s body. Four of these pierced out of the sides of his head.

  Ike gaped at Claudio in horror. What the hell was that thing growing out of Claudio’s head? A head?

  Blood began spurting from Claudio’s multitude of punctures.

  Ike spun back around to face Jude. Shit! This idiot was dangerous.

  Jude was already firing again. Ike let off a shotgun blast just as he squeezed the shot off. The shot caught Jude square in the belly and flung him back against the wall.

  Nell screamed. None of the three men paid her any notice.

  This time, Jude’s strange bullet hit Jonas.

  Jonas got Jude with two slugs in the legs before dying, also spiked outward from within by bony spines. He also grew that odd head on top of his own head.

  Ike still couldn’t believe what the auxiliary head was. Moving with an urgency enhanced by fear, he broke open and reloaded his shotgun.

  Jude was pulling himself to his knees. Blood was streaming over his lips and down over his nude body. His belly was a mess of pulped flesh.

  Defiance in his eyes, his hand wobbling, he raised his white pistol to point at Ike.

  Ike shot Jude twice before the gun sighted on him.

  The blasts took Jude’s right arm off at the shoulder. Arm and gun-hand clattered to the floor.

  Ignoring the strangeness behind him, Ike strode across to Jude.

  While he reloaded the shotgun, he and Jude glared at each other with equal hatred.

  “Looks to me like you just failed to kill Mr. Bennett, Jude.”

  Jude, bleeding like a breached dam, spat blood on Ike’s boots. �
�I’m still going to kill Edison Bennett,” he said.

  “Only when he arrives in Hell,” Ike replied. He placed the shotgun against Jude’s head.

  “Don’t kill him, Ike,” Nell said.

  Ike looked over at her. “And why not? He’s good as dead already.” He laughed. “He that good in bed, Nell? Okay, I’ll leave him for your freak ass — with some modifications.”

  He waved the shotgun, teasingly over Jude’s face. “Or maybe not.”

  Nell shrieked and launched herself off the bed at Ike. He swatted her aside like she was a fly. Her naked form crashed back down onto the bed. She lay as she fell, on her back and breathing heavily, watching both men.

  Ike placed the shotgun against Jude’s left shoulder and fired. Jude’s shoulder separated in a geyser of blood. Jude screamed like he was in Hell.

  Ike kicked the detached arm away. He shot Jude’s left leg off just above the knee, then reloaded and shot off Jude’s right leg also.

  He stood back and admired his work.

  Jude twitched in a mess of gore. He was now beyond pain, beyond screaming, beyond all fear of the unknown. He was simply waiting for the blissful oblivion of death.

  Ike Dallas understood what Jude’s emotionless eyes meant. “Well I guess I must be going, Jude.”

  Jude’s lips formed words. “We’ll meet again, you son-of-a-rabid-dog.”

  Ike smirked. “Only in Hell, Jude, and not anytime soon. You’re going early.”

  Ike looked at Nell. “You’d better hurry up if you want to give him your special before he dies.” He reached down between her legs and grabbed her tentaclit. “He enjoy this, freak?”

  She raked at his face with clawed fingers. “Don’t touch me, you bastard!”

  Ike let go of her clitoris and caught her flailing hand in mid-air. He watched her fingers clench and unclench impotently, then let go her wrist.

  She glared at him with hatred.

  Ike pointed the shotgun at her, and then lowered it with a cold smile.

  “Remember this, Nell. The only reason you’re still alive is because Valhalla says we can’t touch you. But you’ve pushed your luck too far with me for too long. One day Valhalla won’t be around and then…”

  Nell was chilled by the frustration boiling in Ike’s eyes. She didn’t doubt his word that he’d kill her the first chance he got. She utterly detested Ike Dallas, only she knew he hated her a whole lot more.

  Her anger fizzled out before his intense loathing. “Why’d you hate me so much, Ike?” she asked.

  Ike pointed to her tentaclit. “That.” Then he shook his head. “No, it ain’t that. I seen lots stranger things in my lifetime.”

  “Then fucking what?”

  Ike shook his head. “I honestly don’t know, Nell. Something about you just fucking pisses me off so bad I can smell it in my shit.”

  ***

  Ike forgot Nell and Jude. He turned and considered his men’s corpses.

  Now he couldn’t deny what he was seeing.

  Both Claudio and Jonas lay in pools of blood with huge fish bones sticking out of them.

  Shark bones.

  Amidst the mess of their exploded brains, the tops of the shark skeletons — stacked white vertebrae linked by discs of cartilage — jutted from their heads. The shark’s tail bones protruded from their crotches like third legs.

  A complete shark head topped each skeleton. Each head was as fresh as if the shark had just died.

  Ike got over his horror. He thought awhile. Explaining this strange shit to Edison Bennett would be impossible without some evidence.

  So he’d fucking take him some.

  He walked over to where Jude’s severed right arm lay and prized the strange white revolver from its fingers.

  He turned, startled by a splashing sound.

  Nell was squatting over Jude and urinating on him.

  Ike grimaced in disgust. He turned his back on them again.

  Ike stuck the white pistol in his pocket, and then he hefted Claudio’s corpse over his shoulder. With the shark skeleton embedded in his body, Claudio seemed to weigh as much as a horse.

  Grunting, Ike staggered downstairs. None of Zizi’s prostitutes showed their faces as he passed their rooms. Downstairs, the parlor was similarly deserted.

  Outside, Ike lugged his burden over to where his wagon was parked. He and the dead men had been in town purchasing supplies.

  Rosa was waiting. “He ees dead, Señor Ike?” she asked urgently. “You ees keel Señor Jude? And where ees Jonas?”

  Then she saw his odd burden. The massive gaping jaws of the head on top of Claudio’s head unnerved her. “Sheeeit, Señor Ike, what ees zis you ees bringing here?”

  Ike didn’t reply. He hefted Claudio’s corpse into the rear of the wagon and went back inside for Jonas’s body.

  Claudio landed on top of Zizi. Zizi was trussed up and gagged in the wagon rear, en route to the Bennett ranch. Already scared, Zizi squirmed in redoubled horror when she saw what had happened to Claudio.

  Rosa was still gaping at Claudio when Ike returned with the second corpse. Her confusion doubled. “What ees zis? What ees happen inside?”

  Ike heaved Jonas’s body on top of Claudio’s and turned to her. “Rosa, stop gawping like you’ve never seen a man with a fish skeleton stuck through him before.”

  Rosa was about to retort, but thought better of it.

  She thought: Though ees true Señor Ike ees paying me thrice as much tonight, he ees likely to put ze ugly gringo rat prick into ze tight Mexicano culo again if I ess annoys heem. And ze Mexicano ass cannot endure it again tonight. And likely, he ees not even paying for ze usages afterward.

  She climbed up beside Ike in the driver’s seat and they set off.

  In the wagon rear, Zizi lay still as a corpse below the weight of the two odd corpses.

  CHAPTER 5

  Jude woke to an acrid smell so thick it seemed to be dissolving his lungs. It stank like an unwashed stable. It punched up into his brain like smelling salts.

  He became aware of warm liquid falling on his head and trickling down over his face. The liquid stank too. It took Jude a moment to work out what it was.

  What the hell? He forced his eyes open.

  He was staring up at Nell’s vagina, pig-tailed clitoris coiled above the pretty pink opening.

  Nell was urinating on Jude’s head. Her dress was pulled up around her waist and she was squatting over him.

  “Nell, what the hell are you doing?” Urine streamed down over Jude’s eyes and cheeks and into his mouth.

  Nell saw that Jude was awake and got down.

  Jude spat the pee out then raised a hand and wiped his face clean.

  What in the...?

  Violent images flashed before Jude’s eyes, reminding him of what had happened. His four limbs had been shot off his body. So how was he currently holding a hand in front of his face?

  Also, as Jude understood the nature of body injuries, he should be dead, planted six feet under. So what?

  He calmed himself and took stock of where he was.

  He was in a laboratory of some sort. There were tables by the room’s walls, with bubbling glass cauldrons on them. There were test tubes in racks and several microscopes.

  Jude lay in a metal bathtub full of urine.

  He had four limbs again. Two arms and two legs, like before.

  Only these limbs weren’t his, he was certain of that. His new arms and legs were joined to his body by a yellow transparent substance that nonetheless felt like skin. In addition, the gaping hole where Ike Dallas had blown out his gut was now plugged with the same see-thru substance.

  The smell of urine hung heavy as rain clouds in the lab.

  Jude sat up in the bathtub. “Nell, please tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “I’ll get father,” Nell said, and vanished out the lab door.

  ***

  “Nell’s urine has special healing properties,” Doc said. She urinated on you at
Zizi’s to keep you alive, then brought you here, where I’ve patched you up again.”

  Jude was more than intrigued. “How?”

  Doc waved a dismissive hand. “A research secret. Can’t divulge how I repaired your body. Suffice it to say that my daughter’s urine is essential to your current well-being, Mr. Jude.”

  “Just ‘Jude’ is fine.”

  Doc nodded. “The transparent substance attaching your new limbs to your body is pee-flesh... urine-flesh…”

  “It’s meat made from urine,” Nell said.

  Jude looked at Doc. “How can human tissue be formed from urine?”

  “You’re not a scientist,” Doc said, “so I won’t bother you with the explanation. It’s complicated. All you need to care about is that it works.” He scratched his forehead ruminatively. “Now, you need to realize, Jude, that —”

  “Why did you fit me with these limbs? Why not simply reattach mine back to me?”

  Doc smiled kindly. “I couldn’t. There was extensive trauma... tissue damage... to your body at the points you were shot, and not enough undamaged limb flesh to work with.”

  “Whose arms and legs are these then?”

  Doc pointed to a limbless torso lying on a table Jude hadn’t previously noticed. “His.”

  Jude studied the corpse. The dead man was blond with thick mustaches. He looked to be about thirty-five. The cause of his death was instantly clear: a deep fracture in his left temple.

  Jude thought he recognized the man’s face from somewhere. “Who’s he?”

  “A miner called Mike Scofield. He was killed an hour ago outside the saloon just down the road. Got kicked in the head by a horse while trying to pour beer down its ass.”

  Jude now remembered the man. He’d been one of the drunken pair slugging it out outside the saloon when Jude had ridden past it on his way to Zizi’s.

  Jude nodded. He studied the muscles of his new arms and legs. Mike Scofield had clearly been in tiptop physical condition.

  He flexed his new fingers several times, and then shook his head.