Cephopiliac (Octophiliac) Sepio Vulgaris

A vistrorian gothic tail of the trauma a high sociaty dandy goes through when his body is possed by an octopus.

Eight boa constrictors slither and slap, oh god I am trapped, the vines curl and stick to me, and spirals tie me down for that head to inspect. They yank my skull into the gapping sphincter where a spiked tooth punctures my temple and my religion leaks out. I am done.

I'm dead. The world black. Yet, I persist. I unclip and float beyond, with closed eyes I see. I see myself devoured. The creature prys my jaw apart and folds it's boneless skull into my mouths cavity and then it swallows down, the tentacles follow and vanish. I twitch

I bobbed and curled weightlessly while my vehicle stirred below. First the fingers, then hands & arms. My marionette sat, looked around then a rose and walked the ships deck and I dragged in tow, tethered by some invisible thread, and it went to visit my sleeping Anne.

Our bedroom was dark I followed it like a balloon. Anne slept. My possessed body turned and looked at me floating and opened my mouth and let tentacles out to laugh at me, then it started to rub my groin, up and down. No! I screamed but it kept stroking and smiling

My stolen body bent its head. The tentacles dangled and undid my pantaloons, the slippery slimy limbs exposed my phallus and helped the sliding hand to tighten me. Anne wake up! Get out for God's sake! I screamed with mute hysteria.

An impulse of panic shot me toward the bed, to shake Anne awake but I couldn't brake, I overshot and braced to smack the wall. That never happened. I'm now outside the cabin hovering over black sea and in the porthole a ghastly #apparition reflects the face of me.

The ship sailed on and away. Desperation clutched me with dire #volition. Dense tufts of glowing cloud receded below the bald dome of night. The apex was pronounced by a cataract moon, garnished by a thin slice of white. The dominion of dark. I wept without water.

Emotions triangles me and I choked. And the world continuum was unaffected by my absence. My greatness aborted. I glaced back to the steamer as is paddled forward.

And in the reflection I saw my wire. A thing not directly visible, an apparition only perceived by the emissions of ambient light. A thing that exists in the wake of moonlight.

I saw it taught, and when I focused on it, it was gone. It took me a few moments to practice not looking, before the art of seeing came to me.

There was a wire in me. A silver bond constituted of woven threads. It protruded from the origin of me, from the place from which I grew, the navel.

The knot of the umbilical cord tied two versions of me together. An ephemeral and a fleshed entity where shackled into one, and that one was the entire me.

The company cord stretched out throm the thick trunk planteree in you belly and stretched and tapered and thined into a thread. An angelers gut line. And the siliber thread ran from me through the night back to the skipper.

The crowed twin chimneys pumped steam into the night sky, and in the light of the ship its volume glowed white. Then it vanished in the shadow the night under a weak moon.

I thiugh of Anne and the thread began to whip. It whipped violently and snatched me forward and in an instant I was back in the cabin. Beside the Ben where my beloved lay.

The thing removed shoes and socks and breeches and stood naked from the waist and my phallus was engorged beyond recognition. A flesh finger pointing fromy groin. And the tentecles hanging from my bodies mouth flapped obscenely. And my eye looked at my returned spirit and a hand, my own hand with wedding band, reached down and tughed vulgarlt at the barbed tip and the thoat cackled in the dark.

Then my body slid it's arms inside the bed linen and gripped Anne's anckles and pulled her to the corner of the bed in one powerful movement.

Her arms trailer behind her head, she dragged limp. But she murmured in protest, and reached up to remove her night mask. Her legs exited at the corner, her skirt hitched at the knee, then the abomination pushed her open and apart and the petals of her magnolia where exposed pink and fushia.

Anne was wadding through the syrup of sleep and surreal landscapes, she was still submerged but stirred and reached across the threshold of dream with a word. Honey? She asked uncertainty. And her arms curled down to her chest.

The thing sat mostly prolapsed in my mouth, and when she reached up to uncover her eyes the bladder retreated into my throat and tentacles followed swiftly and all swallowed from sight when the mask went up and Anne's pales blue eyes opened. She squinted confused to find her knees so high and her sex so prostituted to the gapping room.

Anne realised her predicament and paniced , clamping her legs closed and pressing her night gown down to cover herself. But the man who looked like me leaned in and latched it's mouth on hers.

She pushed against her husband's advance for a moment, but the long over due intancy snatched at what she was craving. And long kiss. A deep kiss. A penetrated toungue. The taste of another. Her objections melted. Her prudence was abandoned and her knees relaxed, separate, and a drop of dew glistened on the wanton petals.

The man withdrew him self, pulling back. A calculated mock of modesty. A test. To see what Anne would do. Anne whimpered a little and touched fingers to her slippery mouth hole. She reached with her chin and sighed softly. Her infedelity began in that moment, it began with an word, a single syllable. No, said Anne, and curled her arms to prevent his false and testing retreat. The next word ripped my heart in two. More, said Anne, more.

Her cheeks pinched pink, the rash of arousal glowed down her neck. She opened her eyes, and in there middle, in the blackest part of her pupil she looked out with the starvation of a street whore. This man had deconsiceatwd my Anne. And he smiled into her eyes and bore witness to her immaculate and impending prostitutions.

The mildness was gone from her. The manner and mild reserve extinguished. The man pressed my grotest groin to hers. Her eyes closed slowly . Her lips slip. More, she repeated, have she insisted and exhaled a sigh that made my cry. In seven years of holy matrimony never had I heard such grotesque demonstration of vile lust.

Anne I screamed, Satan is upon you I screamed, Anne! Anne! You are inviting a daemons to roost within you. STOP, I yelled, stop, say the Lord's name I begged.

Oh God she said

And the serpent of old eden sawed it's length against her, back and forth a blunt blade on stubbon lumber, back and forth. Each action driving deeper sighs from the lips of my wife. Cries of insatiable pleasure to her and unfathomable insult to me.

Stave into me, she begged, Please my love please, let me be your sheeth.

From where does such revolting vocabulary come? What satanic hex has made a harlot muse of Anne? what curse has come over her?

I could not look on any longer, and turned my focus into the corner, and defeated and cuckold I stood ignored in the corner. And let magimations of fornications flagilate me with shame. I prayed for Anne. I prayed for me. I prayed for us. But the sound of carnal assault flawed my gospel dedications, and soiled my worship.

Perched halfway up the wall facing the corner I FLOATED. THE SHILLOETTE OF THERE SEX folded in the corner before me. I had no corporal presence to interupt the infedelity of their casting sins.

I closed my eyes only to realise the sould has no pupil, it has no lid, it is always open and staring. It never dries, and bloodshots, it looks on like God does. Seeing is a focus of attention. Seeing is attention placed . Today I learn how the blind can see, and how blind my sight has been all this time.

To unsee them I sank down toward the floor, and observed a split in the floorboard, . A signle nail was misplaced and the gap had gr grown enough for a house mouse to slip through.



Remembering that relieved my attention from my cuckold frustration. And herelded a glimpse of my mother. It was but a moments thoguht. My heart welled and the young boy that still was residue within me longed for his mother, that longing passed up throught the years from that timeto this moment, and struck me with a sadness. I wished to see my mother and instantly the room elongated, out of all proportion, into a tunnel of some sorts and streched eyond the reach of my sight then collapsed again and in the sudden shrinking transformed into another bed room, a room i knew well.

From the coast off Maaine i was now in England, in London in my widowed mothers mansion, in her room, beside her bed. My heart fluttered in my throat. What cosmic magic was this?

My mother was in her night gown and Linda was at her elbow swapping her cains and bearing her weight and lowering her on to the bed side. Mother lookedold. Linda looked old too. Nevertheless she smiled at my mother and arranged the canes neatly beside the night table.

My mother nodded and sighed and looked down at her slippers.

Linda knelt down and slipped them off and stood up with a hand pressed at the lower spine. . Mother pulled her legs up and into the open envelop of her bed clothes, and Linda assisted her to folded the sheets and blankets over, and slipped a brass warmer into the corner, and puffed up the pillows.

My mother took her hand and rubbed it with her thumb.

Linda paused and stroked her forhead.

Then she open the sraw of the side table and took out a tin box, from that she got a glass vile, a spoon a razor and brown stick of herione wrapped in oil paper.

Mother? I said, loaded with confusion.

The two women continued with the business.

Linda shaved the bar of opium into the buckled spoon and hooked it on the lamp vase and turned the wick up to boil the solution, and pinched a ball of cotton wool and rolled it into a tight ball between her fingers, while mother lifter her sleeve and wound a tube of rubbler arond the base of her bicep, the first twist trapped the tail of the end and neatly wound trice about itself a neat spiral torneque. The viens in elbow fold buldged up,pock marked with old scares.

The spoin boiled then the needle burned then the tip touched the soaked cotton and slurped up the muddy water.

There is plenty ifyou want, said moather.

Linda smiled and shook her head and flicked the glass and gs she gently plunged the beads of air out. Then she looked up at mother.

Ready? she saked.

Mother nodded, then raised her eye brows and reached to the base of the lamp. Under its base two notes where folded.

Oh, thats for you she said, and nodded again.

Linda leaned in penetrated mother with her tounge.

I gasped in shock. Not my mother, she cant be of lesos, for all hideous malidictions not the nymph of lesbos. My mother took the carnal greeting with a smile.

Next Linda penetrated her with the needle, with extraordinary care, the skil of a nurse from the old war, she watched my mothers eyes and injected her, pushing the staff to its hilt. Mother blinked, but did not release the tornique. Linda with drew her needle and unbuttoned her shirt.

Mother released the rubber slowly and when Linda was naked mother let the end go and it snapped free and fell to the floor, and the poisen of pleasure flowed free and her eyes flickered and her head drooped and Linda slipped in the bed beside her and they tangled like snakes and then Mother abandoned this world, to frolick with Morpheus with Linda devoured her, with hard and cruel slaps. I jumped forward at the first strike, it was hard, and brutal on mothers inside thigh, I jumped into the bed and snatched at Lindas arms, and punched at her face, alas my efforts met no impact. My fists passed through her, the pillow, the head board and into the wall. She kissed my mother again. Mothers eye blicked and twitched, and her pupils curled backeard. Her head nodded up and down, yes, yes, said her head. And Linda pulled her arm high and slapped again, a slapp like a vipers strike, straight into mothers groin. Her body spasmed in pain and collapsed like a rag, and the ecsasy of her pain was unpardonable.

And thats when I noticed it. her crows (widows) peek had a dent in the cove of her hair line. The line was carefully lucked but there was a raw and open woulnd just below the forehead. A punture that was yet unhealed, and bone piercing from a single piked tooth.

I darted from the bed to the dressing table. and angled my attention indirectly at Linda, and there it was. A thread, like mine, and silver shimmering thread, it looped from the hole in her head, out for two inches then looped back in to the skull.

The moment I noticed the Linda flicked her head aside and grinned at me and exhaled a cackle that gratd the air into hatred, she opened er throat to me, but nothing resided there,the tunnel into her was empty.

Oh god, where was her resident? Where was the kind matron of my happy childhood? Where was my equivilent apparition of the true Linda? The Linda in all her obscene nudity pulled the sheets aside and there between her legs the tentecles protuded. Slipping out and flaring open to show me the sphinter and tooth at the epicenter. Then the Linda climbed up my unconsious mother, and the tentecles reached forward and pulled her limp head up off the pillow and hoisted her face in towards the caverty, and the arms latched and woman sat on her head, smothering her in the groin.

I drew air, or rather i intended to gasp, i ntended to exclaim my horros but i was interupted by the trickle of bright white vapour, the started to hiss from the unhealed hole in the Linda's head.

Like a jet of stream issuing forth from a value of a stream train, it squirted with force but in extraordinary slow motion. Perhaps more like a swan pipe burning in the ash tray. Threads curled out, and ribbed into the air, and consolidated and before my eyes a withered woman took form. A scarecrow, with hanging skin and stringy neck, and a faint recognised features of a decrepid Linda. The whisps swaed above the head, then drifted over the bed to the right, the womans head dropped down and the phantomised Linda began to weep.

The weeping made the monster laugh and laugh, with raving eyes bright with black hysteria. The eyes darted from mee to Linda and back with such velocity that the flickimg made me feel giddy. And still the monster rubbed its groin into my mothers face.

Oh Jesus! I excalimed, oh Christ have mercy on my mother.

And Linda flicked around, and her attention engaged me, and her weeping increased but this time it was equally measurd with joy and sorrow. Her starving arms reached forward and she glided toward me, and in that plane on intagible nothing we touched, and she encountered my edge as I hers and every being is accustomed too. To have a definition was marvelous.

We embrased eachother, and in eachothers sanctry we wept, and the Linda creature howled with insatiable laughter at our desperate ephemeral dispaly of soveriegn sorrow. Its groin fed on my mother and its gapping throat fed on us.

Oh Percy, oh lord, on my I am so happy to see you and distraught to find you so displaced. Are you dead? Oh Percy, please tell me not that you are not. Tell me not that you are untehtered. Tell me not that you are evicted in my fashion. Percy i pray you are dead.

Oh Linda. Why do you wish such ill? That is unlike you as I recall your manner and disposition.

Her eyes enlarged and she turned her face away and wept bitterly into her hands which closed her face like the cover of a book, to shield a blush in its spine, alas it was a far deeper desperation. I said no more and as a gentleman should I consoled her while her fragile emotions worked to their end.

Percy we are the evited souls, and we are beyond pergatory, beyond hell, beyond salvation.Oh percy i weep for you my surrogate son.