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The Last Temptation of Cobain Foamed from the mout
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.
The Last Temptation of Cobain
Foamed from the mouth of Not Trent Reznor
YE OLDE DISCLAIMER :
I write these things for kicks, not for any serious attempts
at fiction. They suck, frankly. Plus they've got things in
them that would make Senator Helms choke on his own tie. So,
if you're offended by crap like that... fuck, why are you
READING this newsgroup?!
These stories don't feature too much sex, though, mostly humor
and offensive situations. If you're just looking for a wank,
go read those stories where eight year olds get into orgies
with one or more units of livestock. Want a laugh, read on.
Flames and commentary will be ignored until I get the hang of
how Penet works...
Kurt slammed into the cloudbanks and bounced four times before
skidding to a stop, damn and depressed.
He reached up and felt his head. Still intact. Damn. Should
have gotten that warranty on the shotgun. What good is a high-
powered firearm if you can't even blast your head off with it?
Before further thoughts of suing the shit out of Smith and
Wesson could bounce around his cranium, he realized that he wasn't
in Seattle anymore.
It didn't look very much like Seattle. No rain, first of all.
Plenty of clouds, but they were the white fluffy kind you usually
see in kid's bath books (chewable!) next to the bunnies and things.
Kurt liked to color fangs on those bunnies... when he was alive.
So it did work! He was dead, finally, an end to the pain and
suffering and binding record contracts. Funny, felt a lot like
life; dull, boring, and uneventful.
"Welcome to heaven, Kurt," and angel said behind him. He spun
around, pulling his unwashed locks away from his eyes, and examined
the angel.
Pretty basic angel. White robe, flowing blonde hair, pair of
wings and a harp. Quite a pair of knockers as well. He didn't
picture chicks in heaven being so, well, built, but didn't
particularly mind. Hope Courtney didn't shoot herself too, or he
wouldn't have any fun up here.
"I'm dead, right?" Kurt asked.
"Most certainly. Dead and in heaven, a joyous place where the
clouds are puffy and you can play skeeball all day. That and play
a harp."
"Can I have an electric guitar?"
"Heavy metal is Satan's music."
"I know. Can I have one?"
"No," she said. "It's against the rules. Appropriate eternal
musical habits doctrine, paragraph 4, section II. No electric
guitars."
"Fuck the system, I want one anyway."
"Good luck," she said. "You can't find any up here. Very
easy to ban something, just remove it from the premises. You can
do that when you're omnipotent."
"What, like God?"
"Exactly. He's a nice guy, really, just doesn't like power
chords."
"If I can't play guitar, can I at least do the drums?"
"Too loud. The bass tends to dissolve cloud layers."
"Can I at least LISTEN to some tunes? Got any Doors? Meat
Puppets? Hell, even some Sex Pistols."
"AIEEE!" she screamed, clapping her hands ovr her ears.
"Eh?"
"Don't say that word."
"What word? Pistols?"
"No, the one before that."
"Sex?"
"AIEEE!"
"I can't even have sex up here?"
"AIEEE!"
"Stop that."
"Sorry. Reflexes. All angels are by definition pure and
cannot let their ears be soiled."
"Can they get anything else on them soiled?" Kurt asked,
hopeful.
"Not that I know of."
"Heaven sucks."
"Kinda," the angel admitted. "Don't worry, dear Kurt, you'll
get used to it. After a few years you get used to the tedium and
start to really like harp music."
"Can I, like, go back to the land of the living as a zombie
and wreak havoc upon those who wronged me like in 'The Crow'?" Kurt
asked.
"Who wronged you?"
"Society. The educational system. The government. The
recording industry. MTV. The human race. Cats. Single-celled--"
"Too many wrongs," the angel said. "Express return to Earth
in zombie form requires a maximum of six wrongings. Sorry, but
you're a bit over that limit."
"Can I jump off the cloud and splatter?"
"You're already dead, silly. You can't do anything wrong
enough to get you booted out of heaven; that's not the way it
works. Trust me, after being here for as many millenia as I have,
you get bored trying to piss off people."
Kurt pondered this. Heaven wasn't angsty enough. He'd be
bored stiff... well, a bored stiff if he stuck around. What could
he do to get kicked out, though?
"I got it," he said. "I know one good way outta here."
"What's that?"
Trent happily walked forward and grabbed the angel's robe
collar, ripping it unevenly down her body. The angel yelped and
jumped back.
"Feel a draft?" Trent grinned.
"What was that for? Now I gotta get a new robe. They're out
of white, you know, need to settle for that ghastly off-white."
"How about this. You want out of here, I want out too. You
said sex--"
"AIEEE!"
"--yes, aieee, was expressly against the rules. We fuck and
get kicked out."
"But Hell is a not-nice place where you get tortured and
tormented all your existence!"
"My life has sucked rather badly," Kurt said. "I think Hell's
gonna be a cakewalk. At least I'll be able to crank some chords.
Now, you wanna leave or do I just jack off?"
The angel considered this. She hadn't been properly laid in
thousands of years... maybe they'd figured out a new way to do it
she didn't know about. She'd be really embarassed then.
Suppressing all her audio-filtration instincts, she asked :
"Is it still basic penis-in-vagina in and out?"
"Last time I checked."
The angel exhaled. "Phew. Takes a lot of effort to say that.
Okay, I'll do it, but try not to talk dirty unless you want my
yelling to reach the other side of paradise."
With that, she took the tattered robe and tossed it aside,
wings with it (they were staple-gunned on anyway). She strummed
the harp a little to increase her purity quota one last time, then
ditched it.
Kurt had to admit, she looked good. Absurdly large breasts
that the robe did nothing for, a nicely trimmed crotch, and a waist
you could probably fit one of those silly ski-rack bungee cords
around without stretching it. On the whole, a real heavenly body,
puns aside.
"Okay, what do I do first?"
"Are you kidding?"
"Gimmie a break, I haven't fu... err... made love in a few
centuries."
"Alright," Kurt said, sitting down on the cloud, which felt
remarkably unlike a mattress. "Unzip me and blow."
"Eh?"
"Take my dick and suck it," he said.
"AIEEE!"
"Oh. Sorry. Well, you get the point, right?"
"I think," she said, fumbling his zipper and pulling his
ripped jeans down. She pulled his Captain Sarcastic underoos down
and his semi-hard member popped out, waving in the continual light
breezes of heaven. She promptly jammed the entire thing down her
throat, balls and all.
"Yurrrhh!" Kurt exclaimed. She pulled her head away,
confused.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"How the hell did you manage that?"
"It's heaven. We don't have to breathe, and since vomit is
gross we can't gag."
"Not bad. If the place wasn't such a drag, I'd stick around.
Okay, continue."
The angel nodded, and resumed inhaling him. Kurts eyes
crossed as her tounge did strange and wonderful things to him,
little wet points sliding all around.
She started bobbing her head obscenely (how else could it be
done?) lips sliding up and down his shaft. Kurt's mind was
currently orbiting pluto, blown out of his skull like no double-
barrelled metal wonder could.
The angel started twisting her lips around the top of his
dick, her hands working the rest of its length, rubbing a wacky
mixture of precum and spit all over. He'd need a shower
afterwards... colder the better, but for now simply went with it.
"That's it, baby... suck my dick har--"
"MMPPPH!"
"Whoops. Suck... it more."
She nodded, bobbing his dick as she did. She completely
engulfed his rod again, and started sucking hard enough to pull the
muscles out through the tip.
Kurt yowled through an orgasm, his load blasting down her
throat. She didn't seem to mind, too intent on doing a good job at
'sucking'.
"Argh... okay! Okay! I'm done. You can stop now," Kurt
said, vision blurring. The human vacuum cleaner turned off, and
she stood back up.
"Mmmm," she said. "I remember what THAT was like."
"Think we got noticed?" Kurt asked, stading up shakily.
"I don't think so," she said. "I've got an idea."
"What?"
She pushed Kurt backward with her pinky finger, and promptly
sat on him.
"Good call," he grunted.
She rubbed his dick more, waiting until it was hard enough.
Taking a deep breath (although this wasn't really important), she
aimed her cunt opening over his dick and slammed downwards.
Kurt yelped as he entered her, pushing through the rusty,
hardly been used in years gates of her pussy. She started bouncing
up and down, working his dick in and out of her shaft.
"Alright, now talk dirty to me," she demanded, breathing
heavily.
"You sure?"
"DO IT!"
"Jeez, okay, bitch, calm down!"
"AIEEE!"
"Fuckin' whore, you're really a fallen angel now, huh?"
"AIEEE! This is GREAT! I'm sick of harps and chanting! I
want this, SEX! I wanna fuck everybody! I wanna try all that
stuff they say is bad, like dog-style, like bondage, maybe even
like homosexual relations. And most importantly, I want to use men
up and leave them in the morning was wasted, burnt-out shells!"
"I like everything but the last part... almost there, baby,
fuck it a little harder..."
"AIEEE!" she screamed, enjoying it.
By now someone must have noticed, because the cloud was
starting to shake, adding to the general up and down motion. Kurt
came twice in her, all the while hearing :
THOU HAST FORSAKEN THE GARDEN OF DELIGHTS FOR CHEAP WIGGLE AND
JIGGLE. THOU ART NOT FIT FOR HEAVEN.
"WE DID IT!" Kurt yelled in the middle of his last orgasm.
Then the cloud vanished and they fell, nude and intertwined,
several million infinites of feet.
They landed, nude and sweaty, in hell, directly in front of a
repitllian office clerk, typing away on Notepad for Windows 3.1.
"Kurt Cobain and one of their little angel types," he nodded.
"Yeesh, couldn't live without it for five minutes, could you?"
"Exactly," Kurt agreed, standing up, naked and proud. "DAMN
it feels good to be here. When do I get my guitar?"
"And when can I get into your cult prostitution ring?" the
angel asked, rubbing the cream out of her cunt.
The devil just laughed.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"What, you think you're going to get what you want? That's
not how it works, kids. Kurt, you're going to spent the rest of
your live filling in for the missing Bee Gee. Hope you like cheap
Casio synths."
"WHAT? NOOO--" and with a burst of fire, he was gone. A
vaguely distorted beat was heard over his screams.
"And as for you, little miss goody two shoes turned slut of
the year, it's off to catholic school for you. And it's not one of
those catholic schools like you read about in alt.sex.stories
either where the girls tie each other up and suck pussy. You're
going to be a NUN."
A habit bamfed into existence over her soppy, creamy figure.
Her waist inflated and her skin got wrinkles. A ruler appeared in
one hand. She breifly had a look of anguish on her face before
flaming away, faint echoes of unruly teen brats laughing at her the
only sound remaining.
"Ah, I love my job," the devil said, straightening his poker
visor. He clicked the intercom on. "Send Hitler up for his daily
gassing, please."
THE END
(see above disclaimer)
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