Pink Planet Read online

  Edited by

  Garrett Cook

  Chris Kelso

  Copyright © 2014 Jon R. Meyers

  Cover art Copyright © 2014 Carrion House

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written consent of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

  Printed in the USA.

  Www.riotforgestudios.com

  Special Thanks

  This book would not have been possible without the following people. Give yourself a pat on the back for being bold and courageous in your own ways and here is a digital high-five in your pants. Thanks first to Don Noble and the up and coming empire currently known as Riot Forge, for giving this piece of work a chance. What you are doing is great and different and hells yeah. Garrett Cook, for editing/proofing this and a lot of my other stuff over the past year or two. I turn something in and you flip it around in record time, and play a valuable and crucial role in the name of Bizarro Fiction. It means the world and your feedback is always brilliant. Chris Kelso, for making a second run on edits/proofing, bringing the overall project to where it sits in your hands now. Much appreciated and thank you very much for all the help! Finally, the mad brilliant cover art by Carrion House, flipping this thing around and giving it a face at super-ultra-subsonic speeds. It’s a real stunner. Thanks, Luke. It was a pleasure to work with you on this and it looks absolutely fantabulous.

  If any of you are ever looking for something weird, creative, and/or brilliant to read. Please consider checking out any of the above mentioned authors, as they all have a number of great and fantastic works available to read. I’ve read a majority of their titles and they are all great in their own ways. It has truly been an honor to get the opportunity to work with each and every one of them.

  Pew, pew, pew.

  Bshhhzzzz.

  Because space lasers and robots are my friends.

  Thank you.

  Author’s Note

  In your hands is a dirty, filthy book. A book chock full of immature humor and perversion. A book about a man and his love for video games. A book about friendship, lust, and sex. A book about a hot girlfriend with a hardcore craving for some pole. Sex does strange and silly things to people. Why? Because even at the age of twenty-nine, dicks and vaginas are still funny. We all have them. Some of us are hybrids and even have both sexual organs. But, if I were to be completely honest, I would answer this question with a much simpler response… because I can. However, the more I think about it, that answer shifts from a “because I can” to a “because I did” response, and, also, if I were to be even more completely honest than that, “Because I wanted to”. This is most likely a question whose answer may vary upon my current mood. Right now I am content. Yes, I’ve been drinking a little bit. It’s getting late at night. The stars are coming out of their closets. I’m in the zone. Ask me again in the A.M. and you might get something like this, “I don’t know. Go fuck yourself.” This depending on your mood might come off snobbish and rude. That’d be up to you to decide when and if it even happens. I’ve never been able to predict the future. The odds may or may not be in your favor.

  The real reason? I personally read a lot of vintage sleaze paperbacks. You know, stuff like Love Addict, The Pages of Sin, Flesh Festival, Nightstand Books, and the great and fantastic Harlan Ellison, specifically from 1959 to 1962. This stuff was pure gold smut. The books were sold in brown paper bags. They were written with surnames. A community of authors and artists that worked hard together to make this dirty magic happen, in a time where all of it was frowned upon and considered socially unacceptable. Experimental and kamikaze book publishing at its goddamn finest. I’ve also really been into a lot of vintage Science Fiction; the more perverted stuff is where it’s always been at for me. Barry Malzberg, for example. The Alien Sex anthology edited by the brilliant Ellen Datlow, etc. There is some weird stuff floating around out there, withstanding the ravages of time, and I absolutely love it.

  Pink Planet was my attempt to recreate some of those aesthetics I’ve found and love from some of those dirty, memorable vintage sleaze paperbacks, but in a much more modern and technological day and age, of course. I’m not sure if I quite pulled this off right here. But, I worked my ass off on this and there is only one way to find out. So go ahead, pour yourself a drink, sit back, take your pants off, and relax in a world of filth. Because you’re now entering Pink Planet. Welcome to Hopesfall, MA.

  --Jon R. Meyers--

  Wednesday, June 18, 2014

  11:54 P.M.

  "A cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering."

  --William S. Burroughs

  Chapter 1

  Milo woke up late. The sound of his alarm was no match for the hours of sloppy late night drinking that had gone on just hours prior. And that day, today, was finally here. Today was the day Milo had been waiting for since he'd heard about a potential release date on the forums, he’d been watching them for years. What had started out as a too good-to-be true noob urban legend was actually happening! Today would go down in history as the release date for the long awaited first ever sex based action-packed video game known as Pink Planet.

  Milo preordered his copy exactly two months ago. He’d even started a countdown calendar on his wall. With a can of black spray paint he crossed out the long days as they passed at a corpse pace.

  Milo lived at home with his mom. In his mom's basement, actually. After breaking up with his last girlfriend, something inside Milo changed. He lost his drive. He lost everything - his girlfriend, his job, his car, his dignity, integrity, morals, motives, and, most importantly, his pride.

  He had just celebrated his twenty-eighth birthday with his best friend, Flea. They’d stayed up all night playing Massacre Duty XI on the online network. Milo had a daily routine of drowning himself in prescription drugs and video games, it's what gave him that little bit of ambition to continue living and try not to commit suicide again. He had previously tried committing suicide while attending his second year of college at Hopesfall University. He’d always wanted to do something big with his life and decided to try and pursue a degree in video game programming. He went to school alongside some of the other students that appeared much smarter and much richer than he. He waited too long to apply for financial aid and had to drop out. The financial aid he had received was revoked, leaving him with a huge debt.

  His student advisor, Mr. McNally, a tall man with a huge black beard (most of the students called him Blackbeard, like the pirate) recommended Milo take a couple of classes at a time in order to continue with his hopes and dreams of becoming a successful game programmer. Instead, Milo bought a bottle of Vicodin from Flea and took the entire thing with a bottle of Hopscotch vodka. Milo ended up having his stomach pumped three times.

  Since Milo had failed at making video games, he decided to spend all of his time playing them. Day and night Milo played video games. It was what he did. It was all he did. All that he still does.

  Kat, Milo’s girlfriend, was a college dropout, too. She had studied to be a nurse or some shit before being expelled. Not for something as trivial as not doing her homework. She always did her homework and did it very well, holding straight “A’s” all the way up until the middle of her junior year before fucking one of her patients while he’d been put to sleep for a practice operation. She’d held out on her sexual demons until the patient was fast asleep—talking dirty to him the entire time he was going under so that once he’d actually fallen asleep, Kat could do what she did best… fuck the shit out of hi
m. She’d been riding his cold, dead dick for an hour and a half before her professor walked in and pulled her off him, Kat screaming in an all-out rage, “Let me go! I was about to cum!” Shortly after, Kat had been expelled and lied to her parents about it. She spent her nights and evenings stripping at The Cat House under her stripper stage name, Cherry Blossom. And that’s just what Kat was… a little cherry blossom.

  Milo tossed and turned as his hangover crept out of the half-cocked blinds, daylight peering in bright and slow through the shadows just as fast as Milo could muster a blink.

  Milo got out of bed, his morning erection poking out of the dickhole in his black and white checkered boxer shorts.

  He shuffled through two weeks of dirty laundry on the floor looking for his favorite pair of Levis, the ones with the holes all over the leg exposing his thick black thigh and leg hair. Milo's mangy shag carpet on top of his head hadn't been cut or even washed in months. Milo smelled like a rotten tomato. A long swoop of black hair hung over his nose and off to the left, sheltering the bad case of acne on his face.

  "Where the fuck are they?" Milo shouted, storming through piles of clothes, kicking over a couple stacks of his Jugs nudie mag collection.

  Jugs was Milo’s favorite pornographic magazine. He liked the assortment of big tits and non-airbrushed bush. His favorite pornstar, Molly Methhead, just happened to be in most of them. Milo would yank on his erection and pretend that Molly was real. He'd talk to her and put his hands all over her nice, big paper tits. Molly was a real work of art. Sometimes he'd even cut a hole where her mouth was. Molly Methhead was hot. Her lips were to kill for. Milo would take his butterfly knife, stab her mouth open on the page and rip a slit wide enough to shove his dick in, all the way through the entire magazine sometimes, and fuck the shit out of it. Usually this resulted in a series of ragged paper cuts and bruises on his penis.

  Milo, a while back, was even convinced he actually loved Molly. There was one time, right before he came, he actually mumbled the words "I love you" to her as he continued to squeeze and wrinkle her left paper tit, while choking on a gag in his mouth, and cumming all over her nice pretty face. Her neck would forever stick to Ally Mcphearson’s butthole on the back of the next page. This too turned Milo on. There was something about semen on a chick’s neck touching another hot chick’s fat, plump ass that sounded nothing short of appetizing, especially for a closet pervert like Milo.

  "There it is!" Milo said, finding his Dead Maiden t-shirt, still flapping around for his pants as the phone rang.

  Milo picked up the phone, "Hello," he said.

  "So, what's going on today?” Kat asked.

  "What’s going on today!?" Milo said, shocked she'd even have to ask. For months Milo couldn't go five minutes without talking about Pink Planet. He'd even talked about it the last time that she'd given him head. "Babe, today is the day. Pink Planet comes out. I have to get to Flea's like now and then we're going up to Jimmy's."

  Kat sighed, "Ughhh, fine. I'll come get you."

  Milo smiled with butterflies in his stomach, "Alright. Make it quick."

  Kat hated Milo's video game obsession. The two of them always fought about it. Kat would tell Milo that he needed to grow up and do something with his pathetic life. For the most part, Kat was right. But she dealt with it all wrong according to Milo. So, for the most part, she kept quiet. Kat pretended she was happy with him, although, inside, she really didn’t feel much of anything anymore. Milo sensed a little bit of it at times, but not the severity of it.

  Kat had been cheating on Milo behind his back for approximately six months of the last two years that they’d been together. Kat went to punk shows and fucked dudes. That was her thing. Kat was pretty but it wasn’t her looks that the guys wanted. They wanted her for her long nappy pigtails. They contrasted with her thick, black rimmed glasses, covering her big brown eyes. And if they didn’t want Kat for that, they wanted her for her fat ass. Kat preferred anal sex to the point where her asshole was so stretched out and damaged. She had to clench her butt cheeks together when she sneezed to avoid smearing her panties with feces. One couldn't tell by looking at her, but Kat was one sick puppy—a large C-cupped, closet nympho, walking around dripping for anal sex.

  Milo had no idea that any of this was going on.

  Kat pulled up outside of Milo's house and laid on the horn. "C'mon you, Dumbfuck. I’ve got tons of shit to do today," she mumbled, banging on the steering wheel frustrated.

  Milo peeked through the little basement window and saw Kat's car. He finished slipping on his worn out tennis shoes, hit the stairs, and ran out the front door towards the car. His smile radiated through the late morning haze as they pulled out onto Central Ave. in Hopesfall, MA. Destination: Flea’s house.

  Chapter 2

  “God, you are pathetic,” Kat said, noticing how unbelievably happy Milo was at the current moment.

  “What? I’m sorry,” he said.

  “I wish you made me that happy,” Kat said, scolding, but not with jealousy, no she had hatred toward him in her voice. He made her cringe at annoying moments like these. Sometimes she couldn’t stand him.

  “Please don’t…”

  “Please don’t,” Kat said, mockingly.

  “What is so wrong right now?” Milo asked, getting upset. Kat was pushing his buttons on purpose.

  “What’s so wrong? I’ll tell you what is so wrong. You, Milo. You are so wrong. You and your pathetic little fantasy world. You and your immaturity. You and your stupid fucking video games. You need to grow up. Maybe actually fuck me once in a while,” Kat screamed. She’d made the same point already five times this month and it was only the beginning of September.

  “You’re just jealous,” Milo said, calmly.

  “Jealous?” Kat said, sarcastically. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Milo said nothing as he pointed his left hand over to the left just below Kat’s nose.

  “I know where your stupid friend lives,” Kat snapped at him, smacking his finger out of her face. “I took you there twice last week when you were supposed to be out looking for a job.”

  Milo said nothing, trying to remain at ease in his mind. Milo wasn’t going to let anything bring him down… not today.

  “You two are like a pair of bratty teenage astronauts when you’re together,” Kat scorched her brakes at the stoplight. “Tweedle-Diddy-Dee and Tweedle- Diddy-Dumbfuck.”

  Kat was on a roll, snapping, “You two probably shoot between each other’s legs when you pee.”

  “Wanna’ swordfight, Flea? You and me with our two small dicks?”

  “You’d probably let em’ blow you with the lights on.”

  Kat was livid.

  Milo could hardly give a shit.

  Not now.

  Not today.

  Chapter 3

  Kat and Milo pulled up outside of Flea’s house. He lived in the abandoned gas station on the other end of town. It smelled like spoiled milk inside. Milo noticed lately it smelled even worse in there. People called him Flea because the dude actually had fleas. You could see them popping out of his long, twisty dreadlocks—the insides of them housing hundreds of fleas. His arms were covered in little tiny red-pecked flea bites too.

  “Ughhh, he’s so dirty,” Kat mumbled, as she put her car in park.

  “I’ll be right back,” Milo said.

  Milo ran up to the glass door.

  The sign read ‘CLOSED’ this meant that Flea was sleeping. If Flea was awake it’d say ‘OPEN’. The first thing Flea did every morning, or whenever it was that he’d first wake up, he’d flip the sign like a business.

  Milo knocked on the door.

  Kat shuffled through her purse looking for her cell phone. She fucked a guy named Brad the night before. She was still horny and thinking about doing him again, that was if nobody else wanted to today. She liked Brad and she even let him lick the cum out of her ass after he splattered his load on it. She loved the feeling of warm semen running
down her back just as much as the way it felt dripping into her butt crack.

  “Hey, you… Wanna play?” She texted Brad with four exclamation marks and a smiley face with a little tongue on it.

  Milo knocked again, “C’mon, man,” he said, as he peeked over at Kat. She gave him a really fake smile and motioned for him to hurry up.

  Kat’s phone beeped. It was Brad, “Sure, what time?” it said.

  Kat smiled, “Anytime, baby boo. I just want to see you.”

  Milo could see Snouk through the window sleeping. Snouk was Flea’s pet spider and means of transportation. Snouk was an overgrown black Tarantula. He was approximately three feet tall and even more than a couple of feet wide. Flea put a saddle on him two weeks ago when he’d finally grown big enough to do so. “Who needs four wheels when you can have eight legs?” Flea would say.

  Brad texted Kat back, “Me too…” ended it with a smiley face and a number eight with two small lines resembling a penis.

  Kat smiled and felt her vagina twitch.

  Milo knocked on the door. This time he heard a slight shuffle on top of an overly tired, monotone voice, “Coming…” Flea said. He put on a t-shirt to accompany his boxers and tried to hide his mid-morning erection.

  Kat threw her hands in the air and honked the horn, “What the fuck, you two!? You guys going to fuck each other already or what?”

  “Hold on a second,” Milo said. He might need her to drop them off at Jimmy’s but he wasn’t sure.

  “Hey, man,” Flea said, flipping the closed sign to open and then opening the door.

  “Whattup,” Milo replied.

  “Nothing much, man. Living the fucking dream,” he said, buckling his belt and laughing. “You ready to do this?”