I am working on Brollachans, the follow up to The Wages of Metal. The book deals with a single gig in a venue called... Brollachans. It's format is twenty five short stories written from the perspective of the characters such as ligger, groupie, bar manager, alpha-wag, promoter, driver, merch guy, sound engineer & dadager. The remaining characters shall remain classified at this point. The bands who are playing are based on the three main stereotype bands I come across, which in the last five years amounts to thousands. These are the big-headed band, the working band and shit band. The repspective bands are called Nazi Spunk Belch, Down Syndrome Asbo Yobbo & Agnetha Fältskog's Blonde Pubed Vulva. It's also a book about werewolves. The gig is the last gig on Earth and happens as the werewolf apocalypse begins. Rakes of screwing for you perverts as well. How long till I finish, sooner rather than later. It's been two and a half years so far. Here I present as a wee sneaky peak is an 'incident' taken from each of the four characters chapters it includes.
Tiger – WAG
Tiger was more than sure that their would be a red hot sex and drugs orgy back at her Duke Street flat. This was because she was going to do her best to instigate it. The only problem was Wolfgang, he wouldn't be able to object because Tiger had slipped him a few Valium. The only issue would be to get him out of the way and passed out while he can still semi walk up the stairs without having to be carried. That could be a potential cock block scenario with Luger. She knew that Centaur would surely go for it and Luger would not be able to resist them both. Besides Luger was a dead cert, Tiger had bedded her sort before. Lesbian first timers. Tiger knew she must get the drugs out as soon as Wolfgang had been deposited in the kitchen. She loved how Luger smelled, she needed to taste her cunt. Tiger's strong defences were being eroded by the exquisite delicacy within the lust deep inside Luger's eyes. Luger responded by cheekily poking her little finger into Tigers anus. Tiger was being driven wild by the musky stench that was filling the flat. Suddenly two fingers were inside her anus, she loved the shame. Tiger knew she looked, smelled, sounded and tasted of shame. She shivered with orgasmic contemplation as she thought of Wolfgang passed out and missing out. Centaur loved the fact that Wolfgang was next door, he loved taking an other mans woman out from under his nose. Luger did not give a shit about Wolfgang, she wouldn't have minded that he be conscious enough to join in the orgy. Luger's body was firm, Tiger needed to squeeze it to feel it's strong meat. The curves hypnotised her with their perfect feminine mathematics. Luger's pussy was a black hole, sucking everyone in the bed inside. All Tiger wanted to do was feed her, feed her her own arm up to the elbow, such a hot wet heaven, screaming it's command for allegiance, she wanted to kill it with Centaurs cock. “Such a salty butter heaven” screamed Tiger as her strong tongue ploughed between Luger's labia. Thack thwach thawck went the emotionless slaps against Tiger and Luger's faces by the annihilated Centaur who was trying to get a hard-on but he couldn't stop thinking of his Grandma shitting in a flowerpot on the Queens silver jubilee. That was his most popular 'delay thought' and most traumatic memory in real life. Centaur had been thinking 'delay thoughts' ever since the girls started getting it on with each other. Unfortunately the thought of his grandma shitting had temporarily removed his erection. He was trying to revive it by slapping the girls. Tiger thought this was incredibly funny, but kept it hidden and Luger seemed the serious sort and if Centaur was to get that much needed cock hard then he wouldn't be wanting naked lesbians laughing at him. Tiger was intoxicated as she inhaled deeply between Luger's legs. Centaur was now rigid once more and back in the game with gusto. Tiger and Luger laughed as he roared in male bravado at his erection. The bed was soaking from the lycanthropic fluids gushing from Tiger and Luger. Tiger loved being thrown around and pounded by her lovers. The strong and eager figure of Luger was throwing Tiger around to a more than satisfactory level, much better than Wolfgang could ever do. Centaur was like a pneumatic cupboard made out of beef and Tiger loved it. So did Luger but the real connection was not with Centaur. Tiger and Luger were using Centaur as an object to fuck the other one with. Centaur was much better than Wolfgang who was always too smashed to fully let loose on her like she wanted. Tiger buried her face into Luger's muff as if it were keeping her alive. Tiger wanted to suck Centaurs’ entire body cock first into her snatch, digest him and salivate his nutrients onto Luger's delicious cunt. Tiger felt power and control at the deep groans that Luger was making. Luger loved to see Centaur drilling Tiger. Luger howled in insane lust. Tiger eyed Luger with hypnotic reverence. Centaur erupted his foaming wax all over Luger's massive German tits. Tiger was slightly miffed that he didn't choose her tits. She forgot all about that as soon as she got to work licking it all off. Due to Tigers relentless fingers, Luger exploded in a fit of spasms and screams as Centaurs cock wilted beside her. Tiger followed soon after her whole body burned with an inferno of unleashed lust. The three of them flopped in a pulsating pile of spent flesh. They glistened with sweat and panted with remnants of lust. Centaur's eyes began to close, he had to get back to the van. He did not even know where he was. Centaur had forgotten his name and was losing the very concept of spoken language. Just as Tiger was ready for more sex, the door opens and Sarge appears to deftly whisk Centaur away from the naked girls. She thinks about Psychedelic Boris and his list of classic self cock-blocks. After a moment of deliberation between 01 and 05, Tiger decided that it is a definite 01. Tiger was a creature that could not help but always look on the negative side. A malevolent, soulless force of destruction.
01. Unsuccessful separation of self or prey from relative pack.
02. Sci-fi paraphernalia.
03. Tomato sauce on shirt / pocket pen leak stain
04. Mentioning an ex
05. Get too pissed / high
Sarge – Tour Manager
Sarge needed to gather his pack. The location of Centaur was currently unknown. Sarge missed nothing ever and he already had ascertained enough info to make an educated hypothesis as to what had happened. Sarge had seen Centaur with the epsilon female of the delta pack and the beta female of the beta pack. It was clear that Centaur would try to mate with at least one of these females tonight. Sarge sniffed the air, he caught a trace of Centaur mixed with a general female scent. Sarge followed the smell outside onto the Cowgate, east, towards Stevenlaw's Close. Sarge was getting confused, the stench of the alpha male of the beta pack was everywhere. That was not a good sign, the beta pack beta female was its mate. A fight loomed, Sarge snarled. Suddenly Sarge caught scent of the delta pack epsilon female, he followed it left into Blair Street. At that point the story became clear to Sarge as the scents of Centaur, delta pack epsilon female, beta pack beta female and beta pack alpha male had merged into one scent. Sarge turned right onto Hunter Square and sprinted north down South Bridge, following the ever weakening scent all the way past Calton Hill. The scent increased it's potency by the time Sarge had reached Elm Row, the females were aroused, the stench was unmistakable. Sarge followed the ever growing stench of Centaurs ball sack all the way down Leith Walk and right onto Duke Street. Sarge slowed till he found the stairwell. It only took one expert kick from Sarge to break the door open. Sarge ran upstairs, following the ever strengthening scent. The flat door was kicked open. Sarge regarded the pathetic unconscious figure of beta pack alpha male with contempt. Asleep as his woman is reamed by a gamma pack gamma male. Sarge stamped hard onto beta pack alpha males head, making sure he was unconscious Sarge listened to the sex and he pissed on the beta pack alpha male. Sarge waited outside the bedroom door and had a terror wank as the orgy raged within the room. Once all four were satisfied, Sarge entered the room. The gamma male gamma recognised his alpha male and got dressed, he no longer had any use for the beta pack beta female or the delta pack epsilon female. The gamma pack alpha and gamma males slunk into the night, victorious.
Centaur – Drummer
No matter which way Centaur turns or moves a vagina or mouth locks around both his cock and mouth. He shut his eyes and relaxes, keeping steady thrusting and licking motions. Centaur doesn’t have to do anything, the alpha females battle each other to be seen as sexiest in his eyes, he lets them. In his mind he had Petal Windsor tied up in a warehouse, he was riding her under the silver light of the full moon. In his fantasy she is spilling ovulations down his legs. They both scream in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Just as Centaur was enjoying his post eruption lounge, the door burst open and in walked the unmistakeable figure of Sarge. Centaur was surprised but not surprised to see his tour manager burst in on the orgy. Sarge wasn't called Sarge for nothing after all. Centaur got dressed and fucked off down the stairs with Sarge. He knew there would be no point crossing Sarge, besides his sack was empty so he no longer gave a shit. Centaur laughed when he saw the battered and unconscious piss covered Wolfgang. Centaur pissed onto the already piss soaked Wolfgang.
Luger – Random Office Totty
Luger was content in her self. She would not be having any nightmares that night. She was in the back of a taxi with an unconscious Wolfgang, Centaur and Tiger. All of them bad-ass motherfuckers apiece. Luger knew that Tiger was the alpha female at the concert. She didn’t need Tundra to tell her that. They were going back to Tiger & Wolfgang’s flat in Duke Street for a party. Luger hoped that it would be bad-ass. She figured that a party in Leith was bound to be more for-real than one in Marchmont, where she lived. Luger was sat on Tigers bed, with Tiger and Centaur who had a massive obvious boner that was visibly pulsating through his jeans. They had been taking Tigers cocaine for about an hour and all felt like bad-ass motherfuckers. In a moment of self important inner exploration, Luger remembered how she came from Germany to Edinburgh ten years past. She had decided back then to ‘Only do the things in life that I would want the character to do if my life was a film and I was watching it’. She knew that Touchstone Verve Synergy was bullshit, it is their fault she was boring. Luger looked at Centaurs cock and then at Tigers tits. She decided that she was her ‘character’ and the film was a ‘porn film’. She stripped off. Centaur nearly fired in his trousers instantly. Luger wanted to get the most out the situation in the most effective way that she possibly could. This is what she was like with everything. She had formulated, in her head, a list of interactive positions that should be achieved in the forthcoming sexual encounter. Luger initiated this with gusto, immediately. She licked out Tiger with Centaur screwing her from the rear, she then swapped places with Tiger. Luger then initiated a sixty-nine position with Centaur and then Tiger. Each time taking an equal amount of time in the top and the bottom positions. The un sixty nine'd partner would then take equal time penetrating, performing, receiving oral sex off each participant. Giving equal consideration to each orifice and each act. It didn’t quite go in as orderly fashion as to be the most effective way, but Luger deduced that after around forty minutes, a pass rate of around 85% sexual objectives had been achieved. So she allowed herself to go with the flow a bit more after that point. This brought her total to 94%. Fifteen minutes later Centaur shot his fat and it all ended, as it does. This made Luger think of her Dad, she hated her Dad, he used to rape her when he was depressed. The post gig sex and drugs orgy was over, just as well as the door opened. Standing in it was the imposing figure of Sarge, tour manager for Down Syndrome Asbo Yobbo. Centaur did not need to be told, besides he didn’t care now that he had fired his muck. Within minutes Centaur and Sarge were gone. Tiger looked angry but didn’t really care. Luger initiated sexual orientation proceedings wherein the two of them could complete all the positions so far not unchecked that did not require a male participant. It wasn’t sex, Luger felt like there was some sort of weird magical nutrient in Tigers fluids that contained supernatural properties of perception and empathy.
