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The Fisherman
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
t H E . f I S H E R M A N
A fisherman named Sal trudged down the shore, oppressed by the late afternoon sun. Great emerald wavs broke and ebbed as he dragged his gear to his hovel. His strong bare feet sunk into to dark, wet snd, step after step. Crabs skittered out of his path.
"Why must my heart grip sorrow to tightly to itself?" he muttered. "I have worked honest and hard, rsing early, pulling the reluctant harvest of fish from the dark and hostile sea. I bring my heavy lod of shining sea creatures to the market, where my labors are rewarded with a few coppers and a curs from the merchants. And then, after tending my boat and my nets, I must walk home, head bowed to th sun, and throw my aching body into my awful little shack for the night like so much rubbish."
Another day--I know this!--an angel might have heard his bitter lament, and taken pity on the man. Bt it was the feast of St. Jerome, and all the kind angels and saints were gone, gone with Jesus, theBlessed Virgin Mary, and great God himself, gone far away to a long week of holy feasting in the nobe saint's honor. All earth had been left to what strange spirits as would ignore such a heavenly banuet.
And so it was that the strong fisherman, handsome eyes weighted with hopelessness, discerned a brillant light sparkling in the distance. There had never been aught than sand and refuse on this beach, otted timbers of sunken ships washed ashore, once even a deceased shark of great size. But never somthing as marvelous and promising as the object ahead. Sal heaved his gear to the ground with his musled arms, and began to run in long strides towards the puzzling sight. His ragged blouse filled onceagain with the smell of his sweat, sweat mingled with the sea, with fish.
As he neared, heart pulsing, he slowed and gasped in astonishment. "Oh, you who are like a mother tome, Blessed Virgin Mary, mother of God--what fortune do you bring me now?" It was a silver burial caket. On all sides were inscriptions, written in a wild script, full of swash. "If only I could read, cried Sal, filling with frustration. With his meaty arms, he flung open the casket, gritting his teth for the worst. But there was nothing inside. Distant gulls cried. He rubbed his thick hand acrosshis dark, tousled hair. He was about to close the lid again when from the center of the empty casketrose the head of a serpent. It met the fisherman's eyes for an instant, but lost no time exiting thecasket.
"Kiss me," said the snake, approaching the man.
"I cannot," cried the Sal, taking a step backward.
"You must," said the snake, in a rasping tone. Before the handsome fisherman could take another step the snake slithered round his leg, up, round his torso, round his neck--so! And from this vantage, he snake looked the fisherman in the eye and constricted warningly around his airpipe.
"Kiss me," said the snake, letting his mouth drop open. With his darting tongue, narrow and forked, e tickled the fisherman's thick, manly lips.
"This I simply cannot do!" wailed the fisherman. But no matter how he struggled, he couldn't free hiself of the serpent. "I am a pure man! Should my poor soul suffer such corruption, it should deserveeternal damnation." And the man prayed to God and all the heavens for deliverance. His prayers rose o the highest heights, where, unanswered, they dropped again to earth, lifeless puppets of hope.
The fisherman began to turn blue. He began to stagger helplessly. The serpent smiled.
"No! I won't!" gasped the fisherman. His vision filled with swirling red orbs. "I won't let myself fll over," thought the man, "for then it will all be over."
"Stand or sit, as you wish," said the snake, as though he had heard.
The burly fisherman summoned all his might to pull in a even a wisp of new air. 'Twas no use; none. e fell backwards into the coffin.
The lid fell closed. As if a giant hand reached down and flung the coffin to the center of the vast cean, Sal now felt the coffin sinking down and down, into the depths. It grew colder and colder. Theserpent relaxed his coil.
"Now," said the serpent. "Your life is over. Unless you allow me to help you." And in the dim glowin light of the coffin, he saw the vile serpent's head approach his lips. Sal suffered a moment of concience before slowly offering the warm, moist flesh of his mouth. The serpent opened his jaws wide ad darted into the open mouth, and on down into his throat.
Sal gagged and writhed as the snake devoured the fisherman's soul, moaning with delight. The fishermn's eye's rolled back in his head and tears began to leak from his insensible sockets. The serpent'stail slithered up the man's leg. Sal was aware that, despite his horror, his primary genital organ ws becoming aroused. The pointy tip of the tail lightly drew curled patterns on his buttocks. The snae's tail impaled the nest of dark hairs guarding the man's excretory orifice. Sal had resigned himsef to the unholy corruption which sought to plug his every hole. Without his soul, indeed, he surmise the pleasures Adam felt before he ate of the forbidden fruit and thus first lifted mankind's burdenof circumspection. The rugged fisherman's sphincter stretched and bled as the cold, leathery serpentplunged its tail deeper still into the guts of the man, wiggling and squirming. The man drooled and hoked as the fat bulk of the serpent pushed ever deeper into his mouth. His phallus, stone serpent, lowed raw with wave after wave of delicious sensation.
The fisherman's hard body, chiseled with muscular angles, convulsed, red and sweaty. No prayers weresaid. As the serpent ground it's tail into his rectum in heavy pounding surges, the fisherman could eel a decade of semen mounting in his organ. Deep within the man, the serpent grabbed the tip of itsown whiplike tail with its dark evil-speaking lips. And it pulled itself into the fisherman with a having spasm. Sal, the handsome fisherman, stiffened from head to toe, pushing his toes, as the tide bbed backward, sea foam sucking ever back before the crashing tidal wave to come. Finally it came, te curling crest of the wave broke with devastating power, slamming ashore destroying all in it's pat, the boats, the markets, houses and shanties--splintered toys!--the wave of semen flew like a pressrized charge, flooding fisherman's face and chest, oozing between the coils of the snake.
The serpent withdrew it's tail, and, after some further modification of Sal's internal organs, the i's head emerged from Sal's rectum with a solemn look. The serpent's tail now dangled from the fisheran's misshapen mouth, and Sal was aware of the faint taste of his own excrement, his own natural lubicants and blood. He nodded off to contented sleep.
The shifting sands of the ocean floor buried the extravagant coffin. Schools of multicolored fish dated and played, miles above, where the sunlight might still penetrate the ancient waters.
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©1995 Kurt Hoffman
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