The Adult Story Hub

The miracle of DVD burning.

The DVD is meant as present to Clarissa.

First time, however, I watch it alone. I have strapped my self to my seat, I have put my crash helmet on, my fire extinguisher is ready to be used and a bottle of Vodka is riding shotgun by my side. Just in case. Just to keep my fear at bay.

The miracle of DVD burning. The miracle of digital technology. The capability of making your own films at home: your digital camera bought second hand for one third the price, your cracked editing software and cheap video card in your computer, your DVD burner locked and loaded and puff you're off: one man Hollywood out to conquer the world.

What once took tons of money and heaps of people and arcane technology is now available in portable form. One night of sweaty sex and sweaty editing, one morning of burning and next afternoon your new masterpiece of homemade porn hits the streets. There are people who will pay for this, there are many of them out there.

But this one is not supposed to be commercially available. The brothers have made it for her. Oh, they say it was made for me, but it is clear enough who it was made for. Isn't it?

It was something I couldn't say 'no' to.

I was aching. I was miserable. I hated myself. What else is new?

But seriously, I could refuse. I could have said 'no'. I had a choice.

The twins, Julian and Andrew got back in touch one weekend and they had a proposition. They were very polite in their email and it was obvious they were experienced and could be trusted. They asked about Clarissa joining them at their place next weekend. They actually asked whether I'd allow her to join them.

They thought about inviting some friends around and having an exciting weekend. Of course, I was more than welcome to join in, they actually sounded very friendly, as if we have become close and somewhat intimate through the fact that the two of them and their dog fucked my girlfriend out of her senses. Aw, they were friendly and they were very polite and I was an asshole, as usual. They said that they will, of course, understand if I say no, as Clarissa's sole owner and master. I was free to say no. But, they said, they were hoping I accept their offer as the time they had with Clarissa was "very intense" and they felt she had the potential to provide even more. I was free to say no.

I was aching. I was smashed up and glued back together again, I was good for nothing for more than three weeks, slowly recovering from the severe beating that I deserved/ caused/ called upon myself. There was no way in hell I could do this. I was free to say no. I didn't even have to mention this to Clarissa. I was free to refuse. I had every right to do it. I was recovering from beating, I was hurt and fucked up. I needed to rest. I couldn't stand a thought of spending two days watching people fuck and torture my girlfriend. I couldn't stand a thought of seeing her please them. No.

I didn't even have to mention this to Clarissa. It was a polite request and I could have rejected it politely. I didn't have to mention it to Clarissa.

Her breathing got heavy almost within seconds. Her face went red. Her eyes were watching in disbelief, asking, begging, promising.

"But... You won't be there?"

No. No way. I couldn't do it, please don't ask me to do it. I'd rather be anywhere else than there.

You don't need me. The panic takes me over as I repeat this in my mind. You don't need me.

"You don't need me." It still hurts when I try to grin so I have to make this just a small smile, but I make it twice as convincing.

You don't need me to have a good time.

"You don't need me to have a good time. I am going to be busy next weekend and you know I am good for nothing as it is."

She does, there is no dispute here. She has seen her Nick, her Master beaten to a bloody pulp and she knows just how helpless I was. I am still just as helpless, I just make an effort.

It takes some time, but I know she will accept. I can't take this away from her, no. I can't be that selfish. This is her dream coming true. This is her chance to live what she just read about in that story about Rachel being abducted and raped and tortured. And she read it without breathing, she read it without blinking. This is her dream becoming reality. I will not be an asshole this time. I will not. Just this one time. I can do it. I can.


Kevin has never played the UK before and he found the difference between these and American crowds to be significant. I asked if that meant that he is displeased with the way UK audiences reacted to our music, but he was quick to dispel that notion. He said it was just... very different. I made a point by saying that we are also very different now.

It was obvious and needed no explanation. We haven't played live for quite a while and we were not a threepiece any more. It was just me and him, bouncing ideas off each other, improvising around each other's sounds and accidents. We were together for a long time and it worked like a dream. We sounded a lot tighter now, even for all the obvious fresh chaos in music we were making, the absence of Gothboy's stage antics probably contributing to this significantly.

But we were really good. Really good. It was a new entity altogether, a new kind of beast we brought into life, new energy, new blood. It felt good. It felt good coming back home and then just doing this amazing music. Kevin wasn't sure about this and I wasn't sure about this either, but Martin insisted we give it a shot and I desperately needed something to do, something to occupy myself with.

I thought that just coming back home after a decade and then some, would give me a lot to work with, impressions, memories, old friends, old places and new, especially in the state I was in. But, of course, no. You need to do something, you need to occupy yourself with something to prevent yourself from dissolving. So the result was new music and lots of it and they seemed to love us.


The DVD was made from two days worth of video footage, edited down to just above two hours. Which is just as well, some more of it and I wouldn't have been able to sit through. I'd run out of gasoline, the bottle was dangerously low on fuel the way it was. I was low on self esteem, the way it was. The way we were. And all that.

It was a rough, homemade cut, unconcerned with subtler ways of video editing, abundant with abrupt jumps and cuts, awkward angles, bad lightning, grainy sound... I held my eyes closed through parts of it and the sound itself reminded me of any abstract tape-splicing composition done by any number of noise artists in Japan, America or Europe back in the eighties. Sounds concealing their sources, words half-forming in the air but cartwheeling around the room and escaping understanding, human-made noises begging to be recognised as expressions of pain? pleasure? fear? fun?

What it lacked in subtlety, the footage made up in mercilessly clear narration. The order of events was chronological and just plain logical.

It starts with Clarissa being presented to the posse. A loud cheer and noisy appreciation from a group of people. Maybe ten of them, maybe less, maybe more, can't tell for sure, the people operating the camera never bother with doing a shot of the whole room. There are people of both sexes there but I think it is safe to say that males prevail.

The camera jumps from Clarissa to the group in the room and back. Clarissa stands there, smiling. The movements of the camera are jerky and I can't be sure. The smile is there, I know she is scared. I know she must be scared. She must be scared.

Clarissa stands there, bowing her head. Clarissa stands there smiling. I have seen this DVD only once, I am not sure how well I remember.

Clarissa is getting an enema. She is being cleaned inside in front of all those people. The experienced hands lead her to the bathroom and attach the gadgets to her as others watch and chat among themselves. A tall, dark, longhaired guy orders her around and I can see her looking at him with such mixture of fear and adoration it hurts me. He explains all about her being filthy and how they need to do this to make her even acceptable for what they will do to her later. He asks her whether she understands and she responds in the softest voice I know. The low fidelity reproduction turns it into something straight out of the forties, the lines of text edited out of Bogart's films, left unheard, censored, haunting the dreams of all of us who always imagined them there, pasted them into empty spaces.

Clarissa is being filled with liquid. She is being plugged. She is being exhibited for all to see. She is being mocked and degraded. She is naked and barefoot in a house full of people still fully dressed and pointing at her.

I hear her saying that there is too much fluid in her, she says that it hurts her. But she is obedient.

I don't know how long they leave it inside her as the video jumps straight to the moment when she is made to spread her legs around the toilet seat and take the plug out. I hear her moan when the dark water gushes out. It's a moan of relief, isn't it? Ah, well, one can fool himself when there's no one around to point out the obvious.

Fastforwarding is not an option. I will sit through all of it. I don't want to miss something important.

Actually, I lie, I'd love to miss it. I'd love to have never seen this, but it is not an option either. Seeing it is bad enough. But not seeing it and then spending time thinking about what might be on that DVD would be worse. It's a pick-your-torture situation, just like in all those jokes with people ending up in hell. It's probably funny when you are not the one being joked about.

Clarissa is made a servant for a while. The merry guests at the twins' fuck-party sit and stand around chatting and drinking and eating. Clarissa is on all fours. She is collared. She is wearing a pair of thin, sharp high heels (I bought those for her. I DID!), her silver ankle chain and make-up, nothing else. Her anus is filled with a large, thick butt-plug.

A chain is attached to her collar and one of the twins (I decide to stop trying to identify them and will continue calling each of them just "a twin") leads her around the room, and she is crawling on all fours. The twin approaches one group of his guests at a time and demonstrates how obedient his puppy-girl is. He makes her do things for their pleasure and amusement.

She lies still when he orders her. She licks his feet when he orders her. She hurts her own breasts when he orders her. It is amazing to see how viciously she pinches her own nipples, how savagely she squeezes her own breasts when being watched.

"What a slut!" a female voice exclaims from out of the field of vision lent to me by the camera.

Of course, the people were not invited to watch only. They express their wish to participate and to be pleasured. Clarissa is not just an exhibition item here. She is to be used.

She is ordered to beg and she does. She crawls up to a guy standing with another guy and a girl and she looks up to him and begs him to let her suck his cock. He teases her and makes her beg more and more and more. He makes her say awful things about herself. He makes her kiss his shoes. He steps on her head and pins it down to the ground. The camera manages to catch the expression on her face, despite the bad light. Her eyes are closed, she is completely motionless, under his foot she awaits further instructions.

The next several minutes are a mix of sucked cocks, caressed balls, licked assholes, kissed feet and toes. Clarissa sucking one guy and jerking the other one off. Clarissa sucking two cocks alternately, then both of them trying to break into her mouth at a time. Clarissa sucking a thin, high heel while the owner of the shoe is making out with a guy whose cock Clarissa just had in her mouth. Clarissa being sprayed with semen over her face and breasts.

Clarissa, on the bathroom floor, sucking one guy off, her head turned back at a very difficult angle, her neck strained as she makes an effort to pleasure him, another guy between her legs, thrusting into her, again and again and again. They come, one at a time and they are replaced one at a time, while her hands are getting busy preparing another pair of guys to fuck her. More sperm on her body. Then an abrupt cut to a close-up of a pussy being spread with male fingers.

For a second I am terrified, but I realise this is not Clarissa, no, they haven't had her clit pierced, this woman is a bit heavier than Clarissa, obvious when the camera zooms out and then the pussy starts leaking. A stream of piss is quickly followed and when I see where it hits I close my eyes for one painful moment. I open them, hoping that the dream is over now, the nightmare is over, the dreaming is over, but it's not. Clarissa...

Her mouth is open. Not all of it gets in, as it is difficult to aim with your pelvis while you're standing, so most of it falls on Clarissa's face and hair and on the floor, but her mouth is open, inviting, obscene. She is held down and she is moaning in humiliation. And her mouth is open.

I take a sip from a bottle. I take a long, painful sip from a bottle. My eyes fill with tears, fucking Russians, what the fuck is this anyway, how can anyone in their right mind even think of drinking this. This shit is poison, it's liquid fire, it burns me, burns my mouth and my throat. It hurts. It's poison. It doesn't cure anything, it's poison.

Clarissa's ass is being fucked by several people in the row. She is receiving a lashing before the first guy penetrates her, a cane is used to stripe her ass. I can barely make her words out due to the fact the camera is focused on her arse and that she is speaking through cries of pain, but I can hear her thanking them.

She is begging to be punished. She is thanking for the punishment. She is a dirty slut, worthless and nothing, she is only worth if the punishment brings them pleasure. A hand pulls the plug out of her anus and sticks it in her mouth. Then the first of the cocks impales her. There is no KY, no lube, just a bodily motion that forces it in. He pulls out after a couple of thrusts, spits into her open anus and then pushes back in.

By the end of this particular episode, I have taken a couple more long sips of poison. Clarissa's arse is red from the lashing she received and her anus is stretched more than I have ever seen it before. Someone pulls out of it and sticks his two index fingers in and then pulls into opposite directions. I don't know if I hear Clarissa cry in pain as the noise around the camera rises with everyone cheering. Her asshole is stretched, wet and slippery from precum and sperm shot in and around it, the camera almost sinks into it. It's obscene, it's scary, why the fuck am I watching this?

After multiple cumshots, she is finally given a chance to rest, but not before she collects as much of the spit and semen off her ass with her palms as she can and then licks it all off.

She is given a chance to rest, but not me. Not me. The video cuts to something, without a pause. Motherfuckers, didn't anyone teach them how to do blackouts? The video cuts to something on the floor and for a second I can't tell what it is I am watching. But I am drunk by now, seriously drunk. It doesn't help.

I realise it is people, the twins and some other people pulling back to let the camera catch the event on the floor. It is Clarissa, doing it again, God, again. It was probably not easy making the animal accept it this way and therefore the video cuts directly to action.

Clarissa is doing it again, she is fucking the Doberman, only this time, she is lying on her back and he is on top of her. It's interesting, I say to myself in absolute horror, the doggy style position should be more degrading, right, but seeing her lying on her back, her arms around him, her legs around him, I see her embracing him like her lover, her lover of choice, her partner, her lover from hell, her partner in sin.

It's strangely surrealistic, it's horrifying, it's beautiful and disgusting, sweet mother, how can she... And I hear her moan. And I see her sucking his cock until he comes into her mouth and the camera catches every single detail of her in the effort of licking his cock clean and gathering all the semen from her lips and cheeks and swallowing it. The camera zooms in into her face and I just can't describe the expression on it. I can't.

The day two is signified by Clarissa having more clothes on. It breaks down to stockings and suspenders and a set of bra and panties that get shot away fairly early in. They do so many things to her that I can not even remember them. It's all one chaotic painting in my head now. Bodies on bodies, fluids and colours, textures and shadows. She is lying on her back on a bench obviously made for this kind of thing.

Her legs are spread and her ankles tied down. Her head hangs down over the edge of the bench and one after one, men take her head in their hands and fuck her mouth. Others come from the other side and fuck her pussy and ass, brilliantly exposed in this position. She is being fucked and whipped, her breasts are being tied and tortured with clips and pins and wax. She is being pissed upon and cum upon. I don't remember how it ends.


So.

I told Clarissa that the DVD is fantastic. I told her she will love it. I promised we will watch it together. I promised that she will get what she deserves for being such a slut. She laughed over the telephone. She was... happy? Is that the word?

Anyway, it all happened pretty quickly from that point on. It's either that or my memory is blocking out the details, either way, I remember only main events and don't seem to recall anything else.

We never watched it together, of course. Be serious. I assume that she has seen it later, after all, it was a gift for her, I could not deny her the gift that was made for her. I am not that selfish.

It's funny me saying that after what I did.

In any case, I wasn't planning any of it. It just happened.

She agreed that doing blood tests was a reasonable thing to do. I told her that I trusted the twins but you never really know and she agreed. Better safe than sorry, with all the VD's shooting around, right? Besides, I was doing mine as well, and she'd accept to do hers without any explanation had I demanded so.

Lou was a friend for a long time. So she called me first. You don't do those things normally, a doctorpatient relationship means certain levels of privacy and discretion, but Lou called me first, we knew each other for almost a decade and Lou knew I needed protection. Oh, not that men usually admit that, but Lou knew I needed protection, she was a woman after all. We were never a couple or anything of the sort but she knew. So she called me first.

Initially, I thought the room was shaking. But it was just me. It was morning, not early morning, I admit, but I was fresh out of bed, taking my time getting ready to go to the hospital and pick up our results. And I thought the room was shaking but it was just me. I stood there for God knows how long and then asked Lou: "Are you sure?"

It must have been a funny voice.

No, she wasn't "sure" but she was pretty sure. Further tests will confirm what she already knew.

"Does Clarissa know?"

My voice was controlled by something else at the moment. My mind was just frozen, marvelling at the fact that my mouth continued to produce coherent noises.

"Did she tell you about it?"

Of course she didn't, you stupid woman.

"Then she probably doesn't know, it's probably very early."

It was a dumb conversation. I was unable to say anything intelligent. I told Lou I'll come over to the hospital a little later to pick up the results and that we'll discuss it then. I told her I have to call Clarissa as well.

But I didn't do either.

Instead I just picked up my passport and a bag. I am not sure what went into it, I was stumbling around the house, unable to make rational decisions. I took money and credit cards and keys and my laptop. I hobbled out of the house. I never even paid in full for it.

I caught a coach and then I slept at the airport, I assume my mobile phone was ringing away furiously by the time I got on the plane, but I left it home.

The hours on the plane just went by in stupid repeating of the same circle of thoughts in my head.

I fucked up real bad by moving to America. I fucked up real bad.

Clarissa was pregnant for the third time.

Perhaps it wasn't me. Perhaps it was me. Statistically, it was probably me. Does it matter? She was pregnant. She was going to have a baby. Does it matter whose baby? It's hers. It is her child.


Ruth is laughing as I describe the way me and Gothboy broke into the store in the middle of the night in some godforsaken part of the west back in 1995. I am trying to get used to the British weather again. The dampness, the depressing grey skies. Racer X races around the park chasing the birds away and making some children scream in excitement. She is still a puppy, technically, but she is one big dog, eight months of life have brought a vast amount of experiences and impressions to her and have had her grow up to be a beautiful long haired German Shepherd. She is barking out of pure joy now.

I could never have a puppy when I was a kid.

Ruth says she is glad I am back. She has seen one of our performances last month and thinks we are really good. Not that she'd know, she couldn't tell our music from random noise if her life depended on it, she is 34 after all, one divorce behind her, but she makes an effort and I appreciate it. I am not sure what we are at this point. We were an issue a long time ago, sure, but we are different people now, aren't we?

"It's funny," she says "I have been to the states so many times and I have never once thought about visiting you."

"That's cool," I say, "that country changes people anyway."

"I'm glad you are back, though. Really nice to have you back."

"Thank you, Ruth." I say as I watch Racer X digging furiously at the base of a tree. I wonder whether someone will fine me because of this. "It's nice to be back." I am silent for a moment. "You know, it all looks so much more real here, you know? As if everything over there is like being in a dream." That sounds really pathetic. "It's good to be back, period." I conclude.

But I know better than that. Someone is back. But I am not sure if it is me. Is it?