XIRCON

 

What do we know about Xircon? Not a whole lot. One day there was a mystery email in the inbox, and the next day we had a regular at the house. We do know that he writes more than just erotica, but in his words he "doesn't like [his] work shelved next to hack writers."

He enjoys walks in the park, The Pants, throwing things at the television, geckos for car insurance, and staring at people until they get nervous then walking away.

He doesn't like stuffy corps who bring the suit with them on the inside, high school kids, people, dogs-- especially the yip-yip kind, writing, talking, psychotic women who have no clue what a real beating is, restraining orders, the 'judicial system', criminals, and wife-beaters. He frequently appears at the residence of James Glass and leaves his shoes on when he sleeps on the couch. He really likes to walk through mud dogshit, and street trash before he does this because he knows it pisses James off. He thinks that "Jimmy should lighten up and give the fist-shaking a rest."

 

EXCERPT FROM THE STORY "UP FROM THE UNDERGROUND."

The rest of this story is found in the Electronic Book of Eros and can be purchased in the Online Store. Also be sure to check out the limited edition hand-bound version of Xircon's short short "Whipped", also available in the online store. WARNING: You MUST be at least 18 years old to purchase this item.

 

* * *

The Suit stared at them, wondering what they expected of him. They all wore vinyl stretched so tight over their bodies that there was nothing left to the imagination.

"Take off your clothes."

He was more surprised finding himself obeying the order than he was at having it issued to him. He never took his eyes from the three women. Tie came loose and then off, followed by shirt, shoes, and pants, then boxers and socks. The three women seemed to move to a rhythm he couldnąt hear and he watched their fluid bodies moving beneath the liquid vinyl. He was extremely turned on, and they stared at his arousal with sadistic smiles of pleasure.

* * *