Hamster’s Ball

By

R.J. Benetti

Copyright © 2021 by R.J. Benetti

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

WARNING:

Some of the contents may offend. Do not read if you’re prone to vomiting or own a hamster.

Contents

1. Hamster’s Ball

2. Like Father…

3. The Need to Feed

4. Nothing Stays the Same

5. Date Night

1

Hamster’s Ball

Devon Dallas sat on the floor of the living room and pushed a toy train around with his soft, pudgy hand. ALF, his favorite show, was on TV and his mom was out working a double at the local strip joint, Hubba-Hubba Sex Machine’s, while his dad had locked himself in his bedroom… yet again.

Gazing up at the pixels materializing behind glass, Devon saw ALF speaking about eating cats while his bouffant bounced and the TV family put their hands on their hips, to accompany their amused expressions.

Devon’s dad had been watching the show with him too, but whenever ALF appeared on the TV, he would start touching himself.

It was bizarre…

His eyes would glaze over and he’d revolve his hand in circles on the crotch of his Dickies while drool bubbled from the corner of his mouth. Then, he’d go into his room and he’d lock the door.

This happened whenever ALF was on. Devon didn’t know why that silly alien made him act so funny. He took the train and went choo-choo and he pushed it toward his Skeletor action figure. And, as soon as the toy train’s wheels bumped over the plastic skull, Devon heard his dad wailing so loud the apartment shook. He stopped pushing the train.

Bounding from the bedroom, tripping over the pants around his ankles, slapping and clawing at his ass cheeks, came Devon’s father. He fell face-first and Devon saw his dad’s erect penis break in half on the floor. He kept pawing at his ass.

“Something’s wrong with it! Something’s wrong with it! Get it out! Get it out!” his dad howled.

Devon tremored and pushed himself upright and puttered up to his dad. He peered into his hairy butt crack, seeing gouts of dark blood smeared across the inner cheeks, pasting the hairs down.

“Get it the fuck out!” Devon’s dad spread the cheeks of his big ass.

His asshole looked like a burnt-up onion ring that’d been soaked in oil and had begun to fall apart. It was all chewed up and it was ejaculating spurts of blood while a tiny little rodent foot shot in and out.

“What is that, daddy?” Devon whimpered.

“It’s a hamster, goddammit, get it out!”

“I can’t!

“You have to! It’s chewing me the hell up!”

“No!”

“Do it! Damn you!”

Blood continued pouring from the dark hole as Devon’s dad writhed on the ground, gritted his teeth, and pushed his world-weary stubbly cheek against the hardwood floor. A big tear formed in the corner of his eye. Devon stared at it for a few moments that felt like forever. He’d never seen his dad cry before.

“Ok, daddy, I’ll save you,” he warbled.

Devon plunged his hand downward and shoved it in between the black-haired gaping abyss, pushing it toward and then into the bloodied gob of ruined asshole that puckered open, in waiting.

Devon’s wrist worked in and out of his dad’s hole, making slurping sounds as he reached deep within, for the hamster. Like twenty tiny knives, the rodent’s nails sliced at his fingertips. The thing absconded further into the butthole.

It was hot inside his father. And foul-smelling. Every time Devon pushed in a waft of sour shit-covered armpit smell would cloud invisibly up and cling inside his nostrils. His forearm had become red with blood and brown with shit, and as his fingers stretched within the rectal tube, he could’ve sworn he saw his father smile for a brief moment and he felt it was all wrong.

No… wasn’t a smile… he’s just in pain, that’s all…

Devon grabbed hold of the hamster’s hind leg. He yanked as hard as he could and his dad started coming milky white pools of semen out of the aperture in the side of his snapped-in-half penis. Devon pulled and pulled and his dad moaned like a man possessed.

The hamster resisted, fighting to stay inside, digging its claws into the shit-sullied walls of the rectum. Devon didn’t know what to do. I have to save him. He continued pulling. With all his might.

And soon, the hamster came out. And so did his dad’s insides. His rectal tract all purple like a sick sausage casing and his colon like an oversized mutant slug coated in a bile-like slime.

The hamster still had its head buried halfway inside the loosed anus hole.

Devon held the gore-splattered tube at the matted, furball handle; his eyes wide and his jaw fluttering agape.

It was like holding a squirming snake from some side of an inside-out hell. Devon could see the colon and rectum muscles contracting, pushing hard lumps of shit down their flesh tunnel in one final act of defiance, while Devon’s dad’s eyes glossed over.

He let the snaking monstrosity slide from his grip, then slap the floor. Dropping to his hands and knees, Devon crawled up to his dad’s face. He took hold of his father’s cheeks with brown hands that had little corn kernels stuck to them and he cried as his dad garbled.

“Never… turn out… like me… son…”

For the last time, his father sighed loud and farted.

Devon glanced at the liberated intestinal tract now spraying like a hose, expelling three medium-sized loaves of green-brown shit and with them, the hamster.

Obliviously demented, the hamster rolled around on the ground, then scampered around Devon’s toy train. Then, it dug its filthy snout into the excrement and began taking in mouthfuls.

Devon looked back to his father. His spirit was no longer there. His eyes had become dull, black buttons, like ALF’s, who was still on the TV.

Devon sobbed and sobbed, surrounded by shit and viscera and cum.

2

Like Father…

The plastic bin in the pet store bustled with furry, sand-hued, nugget-shaped bodies, clawing themselves across the sawdust floor with their endless pink paws.

The hamsters’ noses twitched and they peeped up with shiny, black eyes. A customer loomed over them, leering.

“I’ll take all of them,” said Devon Dallas, now twenty-six years of age, blonde peach fuzz sprouting from his upper lip.

“But, there’s probably a few dozen hamsters in there,” said the female Pet-Corp employee.

Devon looked her over, his fat, rubbery lips wilting into a bitter frown.

This bitch is uglier than I am…

The bitch, Devon referred to in his mind, had heft to her squat frame. Buckteeth ruined her mouth, and a bevy of pus-filled whiteheads riddled her round, fleshy cheeks.

Her parched hair was parted down the middle—rising into a pair of mountainous poofs that accentuated the smallness of her forehead, and the closeness of her hairline to her beady eyes.

Her nametag read: Peggy.

Reaching into the inner pocket of his ratty denim jacket, Devon pulled out a clump of wrinkled twenties. He waved the money before the girl’s small, unbelieving eyes.

“I said, I want all of them. Don’t give me any problems. I’m a paying customer.”

Peggy nodded and scanned the store for her manager, whose name was Dan, but he was nowhere to be found.

Little did she know, Dan was currently slumped in Pet-Corp’s broom closet, behind the rows of stacked-up fish tanks, occupied with his usual noon nap that followed his 11:45 dump.

“Um… ok. You need ha-hamster cages?” Peggy stammered.

“No! Just give me a box or something, I don’t care.”

The girl blinked at Devon, trying to figure him out while he nibbled on his spongy, pink mudflap of a lower lip, that hung above his nearly invisible chin.

“I’m a paying customer!” snapped Devon, at last.

“Ok, ok… let me get you a box.”

She puttered off, and as she did so, Devon shifted weight from scuffed-up sneaker to scuffed-up sneaker in front of the hamster bin. Glancing around, he spotted a big-assed white woman in the dog food aisle eyeing him like he might shoot up the place.

They’re fucking on to me… thought Devon. I’m running out of pet stores to visit.

The lights buzzed like murder hornets overhead. Devon felt his temples go frigid with his ever-present coating of nervous sweat. His pits felt like sopping vaginas by the time Peggy returned.

He looked back and forth, back and forth, as she scooped the rodential furballs from the bin and placed them into their new cardboard confines, one by one.

Devon didn’t make eye contact when he got to the register. Lost in his own inner world, he stared into the box that reminded him of a gaping butthole that teemed with an assortment of hamsters.

“That will be one hundred and fifty dollars,” Peggy said.

Devon didn’t protest. He just counted out the money, while continuing to avert his eyes, and pushed his arm out in front of him. This was going to be a fun night. He could already feel his cock engorging when the register closed.

* * *

He placed the cardboard box on the ground of his bedroom, next to the piss-stained yellow mattress that he’d found in his complex’s dumpster a few months after he’d moved in.

The rodents scurried, their talons clawing against the box, creating a sound like paper ripping… which made Devon’s long ears quiver and his loins flush with blood.

His bulbous testes swelled a light tint of purple, below his two-and-three-quarter-inch member. Even though it wasn’t much to look at, and kind of looked like an over-fried hush puppy, it was as hard as tungsten metal.

Standing at the ready.

He adjusted his big, twisty, bronze lamp, craning it just right to catch the hamsters and the sick act he was to perform with them in full light. Next, he stepped up to his camcorder, opened the lens, and set the shot, getting the perfect angle.

His wee penis barked against the crotch of his damp jeans. He pressed RECORD and remembered his dad’s last words when he was just a little boy:

“Never… turn out… like me… son…”

Devon shuddered and tried to forget. Dropping his pants, his face twisted with a toothy grin.

So goddamn horny, this is going to be good.

He reached into the bin. The hamsters ran from his fat fingers, wiggling above like sentient kielbasas. One of the hamsters hissed and it lunged, sinking its teeth into Devon’s middle finger. He didn’t flinch, he just smiled.

You’ll be first!

“Never… turn out… like me… son…”

He clasped onto the fighting tuft of fangs and claws and extracted it from the box, glimpsing over his schlubby shoulder to double-check that the camera was still pointed in the right direction.

If I’m going to make money from these videos, you can never be too sure.

Pleased, he brought the hamster around his back, past his flat ass cheeks, then started waving the creature near his pimply, dark ass crack.

Its nose spasmed from the pungent stank of unwiped shit. Devon wanted to tease it first. Bringing the hamster around to his front, he pressed its anus hole to the tip of his precummed penis, and he started fucking.

Don’t worry dad, I’ll never be like you, Devon thought.

His demonic-looking expression was agleam with sweat, as the hamster began to tear.

* * *

Devon curled up like a baby on the floor, surrounded by thirty-two ripped open hamster carcasses. His balls’d deflated to the point of being almost flat, like coasters, their cream flecking the floor around the ruined pets.

He felt a warm sort of contentment flood his being, looking deep into the glossed-over, dead eyes of the particularly aggressive hamster. He gently fingered its insides, running his finger along the exposed toothpicks of its ribcage.

Then he rubbed his finger over his fat gums, tasting the little creature’s organs, the coppery blood, and his salted spunk.

Best taste in the world! What’s better than fucking something to death and then eating it?

Devon belched so loud he thought the neighbors might hear. He felt a hamster’s kidney hurtle up his esophagus, then, not making it, tumble back down. He smiled at the carnage, at his perversion, his kink. He’d been making good money from it, getting his rocks off, and, all the while, avenging his dad’s death in the process.

I won’t stop until I’ve fucked every hamster off the face of this earth!

Several local pet stores were beginning to suspect him of something nefarious, and he still had a long way to go, but it was a job he was happy to do.

Devon Dallas had found his life’s purpose.

And it had to do with cumming. And revenge. And murdering hamsters with his tiny cock.

3

The Need to Feed

A few weeks passed. Money trickled into Devon’s checking account, and his testicles recharged and grew fat with jism.

He grinned with perverted devotion, an ever-growing horniness altering his thought waves as he fingered through the Yellow Pages for new pet stores… and… more hamsters.

Yip-Yip’s Exotic Animals? No… they don’t sell hamsters. Only pangolins n shit. P… P… go to the P section.

Devon flipped large clumps of pages.

Petopia? Nope, the manager there almost caught me cornholing a little fucker in the bathroom. Thank my stars that toilet flushed.

Petopolous? No, they’re onto me already. They wouldn’t sell last time and almost called the cops…

Pets-R-Us… haven’t been there in a few months. They’re probably fully restocked, and the heat has probably died down. Yeah. That’s the one.

Nodding to himself in his dim and dank apartment that smelt of rotting meat and human brine, Devon grabbed his onion-smelling denim jacket off the coat rack and exited, locking the door behind him so nobody would steal his things.

* * *

A small bell chimed as Devon strode in, the bright fluorescence nearly blinding him. Pets-R-Us looked like any other pet store—big shelves of tanks and cages, fish and cat and dog food, whole aisles devoted to squeaky toys and pull ropes for “man’s best friend.”

Devon’s feet slapped the cool white tiles as he shoved his hands into his jean pockets so he could fondle his balls. This was it. The meat market. An aroma of hamster piss imbued the air, Devon greedily inhaled it with his blackhead-infested nose.

He spotted the cages out of the corner of his twitchy eye, and he walked, until...

“You!” a girl’s voice trilled.

Peggy, the stubbly puffball-headed employee from Pet-Corp stood with her arms steepled out into fat triangles at her waist. A new blue vest covered her torso, hugging her shoulders and sides. A new manilla nametag had been pinned to her lapel.

Is she a stalker or something? Doesn’t she know I don’t like ugly, fucking humans?

“You work here now?” said Devon, not actually caring, wishing she would just fuck off.

“You got me fired,” said Peggy.

“Whatever, get out of my way, bitch!” Devon went to brush past her chubby arm, but Peggy grabbed his sleeve.

“They know that you’ve been buying up all of the hamsters in the area. They’re on to you. I am too.”

Stopping, cold in his tracks, the pockmarked grooves of his face pooled with anxiety.

“What are you talking about?”

“You eat them, don’t you?”

Devon didn’t know what to say. He blinked, and blinked some more, narrowing his black eyes on her yellow buckteeth.

I do much worse than that.

“It’s none of your business what I do with my pets. I’m a paying customer!”

“The hell you are. You’re treating pet shops like the butcher. I could call my manager right now, it’s illegal you know? Cruelty to animals. You’ll be locked up before you can bite into one again.”

“Call the manager then, I could give a rat’s ass.”

Devon lied. His nerves jittered. His sperm-soaked revenge sexcapades could all come crumbling down. The power, now laid in Peggy’s pissy hands.

Suddenly, her demeanor changed, and her scowl softened. “I don’t have to call him…” she said, tilting her plump face.

“Huh?”

“Honestly, I don’t blame you. Lots of people are into weird stuff. Eating bone marrow and frog’s legs and ants. I know in Ecuador and Peru they consider guinea pigs a delicacy.”

“Ok…”

This is one weird cunt…

“Just buy less this time. That way, the management won’t take notice and you can go on living your life. I have my own habits that people frown upon. So, I’m giving you a pass.”

“I don’t need a pass.”

Peggy rubbed his elbow, sending a tickle to his cock and balls. Arousal coursed through his body like electric venom. Devon leered at Peggy, feeling… attraction?

What the fuck is going on!

“Just come here from now on. I won’t call the cops or anything. I’m offering you an olive branch.”

“Fine, I’ll accept. I want twenty hamsters, now.” Peering to his left, Devon noticed a hamster with a humungous behind running on its metal wheel. His gums grew wet with saliva.

Another hamster licked at a water dispenser, he imagined it doing the same to the tip of his penis.

“You can have five,” said Peggy.

“Ten.”

“Fine, ten. But that’s it… and don’t come back for at least a week. And don’t think about going anywhere else, either. They really are onto you.”

Devon stood and glared like a goblin caught in a car’s headlights. She, this short and hideous pet-pusher, held sway over the course of his life.

“Ok… just give me the fucking hamsters. I need to get going,” Devon bristled, then deflated slightly.

Check. And. Mate.

4

Nothing Stays the Same

He gripped the big-assed hamster with a pale, greasy hand, holding it in front of his flaccid member. With his other hand, Devon fiddled himself, working his chode like it was a travel-sized tube of toothpaste.

The camcorder glared with its singular, cyclopic eye; while a minuscule red light illuminated on its side. The hamster flailed its legs, as if it could run off on nothing but the rankness of the bedroom.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Tugging at himself, Devon stretched the head of his mottled dick from its gelatinous, stubby shaft. Sweat trickled from his thin eyebrows as he toiled with his genitals, trying to get them to obey, when they simply would not.

He shut his eyes, the lids spidering with sanguine veins. He kept fondling, like a madman… fap… fap… fap.

His inanimate, bloodworm of a phallus twisted in his grip. Like putty. Sucking in breaths of ragged desperation, Devon nearly pegged the hamster against the wall, leaving a stamp of blood and fur, but that would be wasting his rations.

There’d only be nine more hamsters to fuck to death if he did that. And Devon could jizz a lot… once he got worked up.

Fucking dumb bitch! Ruining my life!

Fondling with vigor, he thought of the dry hair that puffed out above Peggy’s squashed forehead. He thought of her eyes, sunken, sick, and bland-looking, without much color or sheen.

He thought of her yellow buckteeth, poking down from her chapped upper lip like twin stalactites of corn. And as he did so… blood started gushing into his small cock, hardening it, making the purple portabella on its tip throb alive.

The hamster squealed as he jammed his cock in.

Thrusting in and out, in and out, feeling the animal’s furry cheeks tangle for microseconds with his pubes. The hamster and his hand and his prick all blurred into one grotesque monument to bestiality.

Blood spurted in founts with every hump, spraying the floor and the side of the cardboard box. A cataclysmic orgasm followed, curling his toes in his scuffed Reeboks and thinning his lips to off-white lines, stretching them over the crags of his enamel. It rocked Devon to his core.

Jism dripped like coagulated half & half from the hamster’s shredded stomach. Sighing loudly, getting his bearings, he tossed the hamster’s husk to the floor, as if it was a cum rag.

Confused, Devon collapsed onto his bed. That was the biggest nut he’d had since his first hamster. And he’d achieved it by thinking of a human being. His chest rose and fell in tune with his rasping breath as he contemplated sex, and his dead father, and his vengeance.

I’m sick… what the fuck! Why did that make me hard!

He kneaded his oily, blonde temples with cum and gore sullied knuckles. Shutting his eyes, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Devon awoke seventeen minutes later, with a tiny, throbby erection fortified enough to puncture sheet glass. Images of chubby ole Peggy paraded through his half-delirious mind, while his penis twitched from a salad of red pubes around a fresh crust of cum and blood and just a little bone.

Screw it… Devon thought. Maybe I’ll blow another good load.

Wobbling to his feet in the dim room, Devon shuffled toward the box with his pants around his ankles, like his father had shuffled so many years before. All of the hamsters were napping in groupings. He snatched the one occupying the middle of a blonde and white-furred sandwich.

His discolored prick nearly yelped with anticipation. He went to town, and came again.

* * *

Devon’s compost heap of dead hamsters had become a mass grave. He decided it was good that he was on the bottom floor. And that he had a little fenced-in area, to heap the befurred victims of his dicking.

The number of fucked-to-death hamsters he added to the pile every week had slowed, but his life, as of late, had become a little more interesting.

Although he would never let her know it, Devon kind of enjoyed seeing Peggy. She was interesting, in an extremely indecipherable sort of way. Like hieroglyphics, from a recently discovered civilization that existed long before the TV show ALF had ever aired.

That damned show started it all…

* * *

Devon parked crookedly in the parking lot in front of Pets-R-Us and cut the engine of his piece-of-shit Volvo. He stepped out, maneuvering limbs that coursed with anxiety.

If I cum so good when I’ve been thinking about her for months, imagine actually fucking her up the ass. I need to chance rejection. It’s a gamble that’s worth its weight in jizz.

Striding inside, gulping globs of spit that bobbled his waddle neck, the bright lights of the store began baking Devon’s grime-sluiced skin. He spotted Peggy, short and round, lifting Pedigree dog food bags onto a shelf with her flabby arms.

Ignoring the hamsters traipsing in their cages for the first time in his life, he wended to her. With a crusty, dirty fingernail, he tapped Peggy on the shoulder. She turned, startled and bug-eyed.

She’d never seen Devon wear hair gel before. It was all whipped up in the middle, like he’d styled his hair in an elephant’s cunt, creating synthetic flakes of dandruff that’d sprinkled onto the shoulders of his denim jacket.

“Oh, hi there, Devon. Didn’t see you come in.”

“Yeah, no one ever sees me come. It’s a private sort of thing, ha.”

Devon grinned an ugly deviant’s grin. Peggy beamed back at him, her long front teeth hanging over her bottom lip.

“What brings you in, want some more hamsters?”

“Not today, actually. I need to ask you something, and I’ve never done this before, so don’t laugh or I’ll fucking leave and I won’t ever come back.”

Peggy tilted her fat face and gently grazed Devon’s elbow with her chubby fingers. His tiny dick began spasming against the fly of his pants, chafing the pee hole.

“What’s up?”

“Do you want to come over tonight, or when you get off work? I’ve got malt liquor. I think you’re cool, and I’ve never thought anyone was cool… ah! Fuck it!”

Defeated, Devon turned on his sneaker’s heel and began trudging away, leaving a gale of body odor in his wake.

“Wait!” Peggy yelled after him. “I’d love to come over, just as long as we don’t eat (she cupped her hand over her mouth, then whispered) hamsters.”

Devon’s eyes bounced open and his heart fluttered as he precummed a little. His erection resembled the world’s smallest traffic cone, as he strode back to Peggy.

“When will you come over?”

“I can’t come until later tonight… how about nine-thirty?”

Devon flinched, bunching up his sweaty hands at his sides.

“That works for me, my address is 7776 Crowley Road, a few doors down from Gustafson’s Bowling Alley. I’ll leave the light on, there’s an ashtray that looks like a hamster’s skull on my stoop, you can’t miss it.”

“Great!” Peggy squealed. “I’ll see you then!”

“Oh, and another thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I need like five hamsters… now.”

Peggy tapped the top of her fluffy head with her pointer finger.

“I thought you might,” Peggy said, smiling like a snaggle-toothed jack-o-lantern

5

Date Night

There was a very light rapping on Devon’s front door—it sounded like the mini-eruptions of popcorn kernels over the stove. Devon knew what it was, however, and moved without a blink of hesitation.

In another blink, the door swung open and he beheld his shrubby date, Peggy, standing and preening with a blue bow in her quaffed hair.

“Get the fuck in, before anyone sees you,” said Devon, ushering her through the door.

Peeking his head out, he glanced both ways and spotted a rat eating a discarded can of Tab soda.

Filthy animal… I’d fuck you to death if I didn’t have company.

He shut the door and turned around and saw Peggy’s nostrils flaring, billowing like a pair of sails.

“What the heck is that smell?”

“It’s… ah, nothing. It’s my cooking. You can’t microwave a hamster, I guess. No matter how much barbecue sauce you put on it, it doesn’t come out right…”

“I hope it was dead first.”

“Of course… it was. I would never harm an animal while it’s living. Except to kill it, and then to cook it, I mean…”

Devon ran his wide fingers through his wet hair. It was an odd gesture, for him at least. He wasn’t used to having these kinds of nerves and he wasn’t used to showering. He’d just taken his first one in over three months a few minutes before his date’s arrival.

“Want a can of malt liquor?” Devon asked.

“Um, sure,” Peggy responded, clutching a pink and white handbag against her paunch.

Devon bobbed his head in the yes way and moved through his apartment, furnished by a single tattered beach chair, a few melty candles, and a ripped-in-half Ouija board.

Dark-hued posters of black metal bands, one of Hell Hammer, the other of Fiends of Venom (the lead singer deeply tongue kissing a python on the poster) were peeling like burnt skin from the walls. A cooler, which looked like it’d been through the shit in Nam, sat on the floor.

Yoinking the beige lid of the cooler open with a grunt, Devon dug his hand into the ice bath, pulling out two tall cans of Horse 5,000, which had an ABV of 14%.

Once I get her sozzled, I might just have to force my prick inside her.

Water trickled from the curled strands of his hair, leaving long streaks down his sleeveless shirt, as he strolled over to Peggy and handed her the can.

“It really does smell in here,” Peggy said.

“Fucking shut up, just fucking drink.”

Devon clanked his aluminum against hers and began to guzzle his malted Horse 5,000. Peggy took a sip and cringed as she swallowed, then her pupils dilated some and she got a sort of odd look on her face and she took another glug, this time like an expert sot.

“This is pretty good stuff,” she said.

“I know… you want to take a seat? Let’s see how many we can pound in an hour. I’ll put on some drinking music.”

“Um, yeah, sure…”

The soles of Peggy’s shoes peeled from the floor with every footfall she pattered across the warped hardwood. Devon gestured for his guest to sit down in his blood-dappled beach chair, and she brought her squat frame down into its soiled fabric, making an inquisitive face as she did so.

Gulping some more, Peggy watched as Devon marched up to a junky stereo and pressed play, imposing his will on a cassette tape that began turning its reels within the dinged-up contraption. The song, Raining Blood, by Slayer started blaring.

Electric guitars thrummed and married the sounds of Tom Araya’s throaty crooning, as the apartment seemed to welter, and to blacken. Peggy took another glug of her malt liquor and Devon chugged his own.

“What’s this stain on your floor?” Peggy screamed through the music, pointing to a big amorphous blotch of burgundy.

“That’s where my fucking Dad died when I was a kid. My Mom blew her brains out in my bedroom when she saw what happened to him. It was a hard night.”

Devon banged his head, pretended that his near-empty can of Horse 5,000 bore the chords of a guitar.

“I’m sorry to hear that, my parents are dead too.” Peggy slugged at her can, finishing it.

“We have a lot in common,” said Devon. “I could tell that about you when I got to know you.”

He reached his sweaty ham-colored ham-feeling hand out and laid it on top of Peggy’s.

“Do you want another one of these foamy fucks?” he asked, flicking his empty can.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” said Peggy, smiling.

* * *

Sitting his flabby flat ass on the hardwood, with his back propped against the weathered wall, Devon took note of his guest with increasingly inebriated eyes.

She’s not the best looking, but damn, I’d fuck her right now if I could.

“So, what is it you said you do for a living?” screamed Peggy.

“I’m a videographer,” screamed Devon. “I make videos.”

“That’s neat! What kind of videos?”

“Videos for people with very specific tastes.”

Grinning, Devon’s thin lips retracted over his jutting teeth, making him resemble a predator, of the snarling variety.

“Are these the videos where you eat the hamsters!?” Peggy hollered.

“Yeah! Something like that!” shouted Devon.

While prodding her handbag, and lost in some sort of thought, Peggy shifted in the beach chair.

“Can we turn the music down? I want to hear your voice,” she yelled.

Devon shrugged and got up and flicked off the stereo that vibrated with Cannibal Corpse’s Butchered at Birth album.

“Nobody’s ever really wanted to hear my voice before, it’s not that nice sounding,” Devon said, drunkenly staring down at the crusty bunny ears of his shoelaces.

“I happen to enjoy your voice. It has a cute sort of rasp to it. It gets me a little horny.” Peggy shifted in her seat again.

Three empty cans of Horse 5,000 laid beside her jittering foot. Devon couldn’t believe it; his half-baked plans were actually working. All of a sudden, he felt like shitting his pants.

Can I handle a real woman!?

Something like vibrating static piss ran through Devon’s central nervous system. The pocks on his sharp-nosed, droopy face became cesspools of stank perspiration. He could smell every hamster he’d ever fucked to death, and his dick began to angle up and jut straight out.

“Want to check out my room? We can make out,” Devon said.

He didn’t make eye contact and instead stared at a gnarled, seeping fissure in the wall. A little hot pink tongue flicked out of Peggy’s mouth, caressing her buckteeth, glistening with spit like two unsheathed sabers.

“We can do more than just make out. Why do you think I was so eager to come over here? I’m horny, dammit,” Peggy giggled.

“Yeah, I’ll fuck your fucking brains out,” said Devon, wiping his ridged and greasy brow.

After standing in one fluid and well-oiled movement, Peggy sauntered to Devon and took his hand. He gulped spit and almost came as she brought her hot-breathed mouth to his ear and said… “Let’s give your dick what it’s been waiting for.”

Walking into Devon’s bedroom, their feet alighted on a dark blue tarp spread out on the ground, hiding the spermy gore splatters of Devon’s past deeds. A new, crisp and fitted baking soda-white bedsheet stretched over the mattress, covering up the piss and bloodstains.

Peggy ran her fingers along the camcorder, jerking the lensed snout as if it were a cock. She licked her lips again with a slavering tongue, then she pressed RECORD.

“So you can beat off to this later.”

Smiling, Peggy shoved Devon backwards and laughed as his foot caught the edge of the mattress. He lost all control and plummeted to his back, bouncing like a flea on the worn springs of the bed.

The old walls seemed to open up around Devon. He could smell his past cummings and he could remember his past Peggy fantasies. It made his heart beat with libidinized blood that flowed down and pounded in his tiny cock.

Ogling up, he shot eye boners at Peggy as she peeled off her shirt, revealing rolling folds of cottage cheese-like plumpness.

Oh yeah… oh, fuck, yes!

His jeans were pulled off in a matter of seconds, flung across the room and left to lay in a clump like a discarded hamster. Peggy pulled off his yellow-crotched tidy-whiteys next. Devon’s dick could finally breathe. It drank in the sight of her puffball head and her yellow buckteeth and her black eyes that shone like lacquered coal.

Peggy ran her nails over Devon’s pallid thighs, cutting little blood troughs into his flesh. Under the red-bulbed lighting of the room, Peggy’s eyes glittered with deviance as her neck grew girthier, sloping down until it was in line with her jowls.

“Let’s fucking fuck!” exclaimed Devon, barely able to hold back what felt like buckets of cum.

“I told you that I have things that people might not like about me,” whispered Peggy. “That they would judge me for, just like they would judge you for what you do to hamsters?”

“Yeah. So, what! Let’s just do this, I’m about to cum into my pubes!”

“I have a bit of a sexual fetish,” said Peggy. “But maybe, it’s just better that I show you instead of trying to explain.”

“Ok, whatever, yeah. Just fucking do it!”

Peggy’s pupils flashed and then dilated, invading the whites of her eyes as blonde fur exited her pores. With her body contorting, the bones of her head split, then rejoined, to form new shapes. Her stubby nose twitched, turning pink at the tip of her now bewhiskered snout, as her ears rounded and flitted from her puffball of hair.

No fucking way! No wonder she turns me on! She’s a big-assed, fucking hamster!

With the force of a thousand men, Peggy clawed Devon’s legs apart until they dislocated, popping from their sockets. Sharp pain ran up his sides, imbuing his spine.

“What the fuck are you doing!? What’s going on!?”

Devon’s chode shriveled into its nest of pubes as ice-cold prongs of fear jabbed at his heart. He would’ve thought that having a humungous, hamster-looking person on top of him would be the sex adventure of a lifetime, but it wasn’t. It quickly devolved into a nightmare. And it hurt a lot.

Peggy smiled, baring her sharp, butter-colored buckteeth.

“I’m exploring my kink,” she hissed, her eyes now beaming blackness like lighthouses from hell.

Bringing her fur-covered head down and between Devon’s foul crotch, Peggy rubbed her swollen cheek pouches on his sweating, puckered, brown starfish of an asshole.

“No stop it, I don’t take anything in the ass. I don’t like that! You don’t have to do this! Please!”

Peggy’s head shot up. She tilted her chubby, fur-laden face.

“You didn’t have to do it either!” she snarled, digging her nails deep into the muscles, perforating through Devon’s inner thighs.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” Devon screamed half from the pain, half from the anticipation of what was to come.

No ass play! No ass play! I won’t be like my father!

Hamster Peggy pressed her head into Devon’s asshole, and began pushing and pushing until it began to dilate, opening up like a tiny and fetid door to Devon’s digestive tract.

“No, please, stop!”

Rocking on his back, trying to escape to no avail, floundering under the bright red light as the camcorder beamed out like a single-eyed pervert, Devon cried and his asshole started to tear. Ripping, it made a sound like a hand slapping spaghetti as a slurry of shit and blood poured from his mutilated opening.

“Ahhh! NO! NO! NO!”

Devon couldn’t help it, he started jizzing, spritzing dollops of opaque sperm onto his happy trail and into his bellybutton. The pain made his eyes roll to the back of his head, jittering in his skull.

Peggy’s head burrowed into his colon and her shoulders pushed through Devon’s ruined butthole. Devon felt his hip bones snap before the sound of fracturing reached his ears. Convulsing, his deceased father’s final words played and then replayed in his pain-shuddered memory.

“Never… turn out… like me… son… Never… turn out… like me…”

Peggy dragged her twelve milky nipples through Devon’s spread-wide orifice and he wailed as she filled his belly. Stretching the skin on his pale stomach. His ribcage expanded then began to break off into disparate parts, like monkey bars being sledgehammered.

Microcosmic lightning bolts electrified Devon’s optic nerves, fingering the inner cortex of his brain. His stomach bloomed open like a crimson orchid, as he screamed and screamed and screamed some more.

Peggy’s hair bristled with blood. Displaced organs slopped off her back, as her nugget-shaped body thrust in and out of Devon’s asshole. Butt fucking him. With her entire self. She moaned and she started to cum big gushes of a creamy slime that ran down her furry legs from the spout of her gaping vagina.

She fucked and fucked, and Devon scream-garbled his own blood, terror brimming within his entire being. A lone tear, the same size as the one he remembered seeing his father crying as he died, ran down his cheek. And that same familiar awful smell of Devon’s dad’s asshole came bounding back.

I’ll avenge you… I won’t be like you… I promise.

Devon couldn’t help it. He wasn’t in control. Shit, blood, cum, and insides flowed out over the bed. His destiny had been set the fateful night he reached inside of his father.

Devon’s body jiggled and his arms quivered limply at his sides. Tears soaked his cheeks, as the hamster continued fucking him to death.