NetNews Usenet Archive 1993 #3/NN_1993_3.iso/spool/talk/bizarre/46161

Text File | 1993-01-23 | 5.8 KB | 110 lines

Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Path: sparky!uunet!mcsun!fuug!anon
From: [e-mail] (I. I. Pasternak)
Subject: Down from the Verge of Heaven
Message-ID: <[e-mail]>
Sender: [e-mail] (The Anon Administrator)
Organization: Anonymous contact service
X-Anonymously-To: talk.bizarre
Date: Thu, 21 Jan 1993 21:01:54 GMT
Lines: 98


      The chain rattled, and clanked rhythmically against the side of
the trench.  Bert was climbing back out.  ``Ianis!'' I called, ``Ianis!
Can you cut the chain?  Do something!''

      Nurse Ianis growled with pleasure as her sweating body slipped up
and down on the infernal, steaming machinery.  She bared her teeth, and
stared at me lustfully through lowered eyelids, her voice low and husky,
and she growled, ``Oh, no, Mr Swift.  That wouldn't be sporting, would
it?  Anyway, you're no good to me over there; come back, or I'll 'ave to
be content wiv Bert.''

      I cast about hopelessly.  The chain was standing out from the side
of the trench now; I still couldn't see Bert for the blackness, but
evidently he had his feet against the walls.

      My way away from the trench was blocked by another vast smoking
panel of machinery, and I doubted I could resist a now-wary Bert, should
he decide again to jump the trench.  I wanted to jump back over myself,
and so escape, but I was afraid to leap the trench again.  In spite of
Bert, I'd had a good run-up on the way over, and the panel behind me was
too close to the edge for me to feel safe jumping back.  I could hear
muffled grunting coming from the trench.

      ``I'm rrrrready for you, lover!'' sang Ianis.

      I had a sudden inspiration: I ran parallel to the trench, as far
from Bert as I could get, and lay my length of pipe across it.  There
was little to spare, a foot perhaps on each side.  I winced, remembering
how easily I'd fatigued it and ripped it from the panel it had been
attached to.  Carefully, so carefully, I let myself hang upside down
from the pipe.  If it buckled, I would fall.

      ``Careful there, Mr Swift!  It'ud be a shame to lose the both of
you!''  I couldn't agree more.  I had a bad moment, halfway across, when
the pipe quivered and one end rolled a little, and I was sure it would
slip off the edge and I would be lost.  I stared up (up?) into the
blackness, the pipe below me, saw Bert's chain off on my left, rising up
out of sight until obscure.  I almost vomited, and if I had I would have
been treated to the sight of my puke spewing upwards into a void, but
somehow my world righted itself and I kept on.

      Miraculously, the pipe held until I had reached the far edge.  I
left go with my legs and seized the trench edge with my arms.  Bert,
seeing me and my pipe silhouetted against the mouth of the trench from
below, had contrived to make his way over to where I was, so that he was
now only ten feet below me.  He was climbing furiously now.  I heaved
myself upward and barely had the presence of mind to fold my legs up out
of his reach at the last moment.  With a desperate effort, I hauled
myself out of the trench and seized the pipe.  Bert let out a roar of
despair, and yanked on his chain so hard that he nearly erupted from the
trench.

      I was ready for him, though, and in rhythm with Ianis's cheers,
which were themselves syncopated to the comings and goings of the piston
she was on, I battered Bert about the head and hands.  ``That's the
spirit!'' she groaned.  Bert held on to the chain gamely, and then
seized the other end of the pipe with one hand.  I tried to rip it away
again, but he was too strong.  Frantic, I jabbed it at him, and the
frayed, crumpled end caught him in the eye.  He howled, and I jumped
back as he made a last snatch at my ankle before he tumbled back into
the trench.

      I levered the chain so that it wound twice around the pipe, and
thrust it under Ianis's piston.  The piston battered at the chain, which
was jerking again---apparently Bert was ready to come back for
more---and finally a link bent and opened.  The rest of the chain,
suddenly loose, whipped around the pipe, catching me on the wrist as it
went by, and slithered, almost too fast to see, to the trench, and out
of sight.  A long wail accompanied Bert's departure to the nether
regions of the anyss, and perhaps it was because of the noise in the
infernal room, but I never heard him hit the bottom.

      I collapsed to my knees, gasping and exhausted, forgetting my
original problem, the one that had brought me to the engine room in the
first place.  That problem was Nurse Ianis, whom I'd brought to prevent
her from discovering that I'd bludgeoned the Ship's Surgeon with a
diphtheria speculum, and who was now bent on pressing her mutilated body
against my own.  That problem now cried ``Oh, yes, Mister *Swift*!
You're so manly, so virile, and I'm so ready for you!''  and flung her
sweaty body down from the top of the machine onto me, nearly breaking my
back.

      I writhed helplessly on the floor, gagging and choking, as she
pressed her vulva, still stinking of machine oil, against my face.  I
clawed at her, and she batted my hands away playfully.  ``Not so rough,
love,'' she admonished, bending over my waist and beginning to undo my
belt.  I struggled and pounded the metal floor in a desperate effort to
free my face so I could breathe.  I saw shooting stars before my eyes,
and I began to choke; I would have gasped if I could.  ``Ooh, it's so
hard!'' I heard her murmur as she opened my trousers, and the obscene,
irrelevant thought crossed my mind that men who are hanged die with
erections also.

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