The Minotauress

"Dang thing's spunk done brought Cora back ta life!" Balls yelled.

Cora's skinny arms raised like a sleepwalker's, and she began to squirm lethargically on the spike through her throat.

Her lips moved feebly. "I... I... " Finally the ruined voice croaked, "I need some fuckin' meth... "

"Well... shee-it," Balls remarked.

The Writer was dumbfounded by what he knew his own eyes had just seen. "That's some serious sorcerial science, gentlemen. You're not impressed?"

"Yeah," Balls reluctantly agreed. "I guess any demon who can do all'a that must know his business."

"I'd say that our erect friend is quite the metaphysician," the Writer complimented. "But now... I think it's time to unleash it upon the Minotauress."

The ceiling shook as the Minotauress howled upstairs.

"So far the Writer's been right 'bout everythang," Dicky observed.

Balls nodded snidely. "And he better be right 'bout this... 'cos if he ain't, he'll be the next one who gets sacker-ficed."

The Writer gulped.

Balls stepped right up to the Spermatogoyle. "What I want'cha ta do is git on upstairs and take care'a the Minner-tortise—"

"Minotauress," the Writer corrected.

"Whatever. You think ya kin handle it, Mr. Dick-Monster?"

The Spermatogoyle bowed in obedience one more time, then turned and thunked up the steps.

The Writer, Balls, and Dicky all looked uneasily at one another, but it was the Writer who broke the silence:

"Gentlemen? I don't think this is something we can miss."

The Writer went up the brick steps, right behind the Spermatogoyle. Balls and Dicky paused, then followed.

They could hear the vicious snorting through the door. The Writer had the impression that the Minotauress knew an adversary was in its midst. I'm following... a giant penis up the stairs, he thought. Hemingway himself couldn't have asked for more adventure.

The Spermatogoyle opened the door with no reluctance and plodded right out into the hall on its big, splayed feet.

The candlelight moved like a luminous veil over the walls. Much of the first floor was a shambles now, the Minotauress having had a heyday of vandalism. The voluptuous-bodied demon stood in the background, its perfect breasts heaving, the eyes in its bovine head strained open in what the Writer thought could only be fear. With horns like that, he wondered, why would this thing be afraid of a ridiculous giant penis on two legs?

Once again, the Spermatogoyle began to masturbate, brawny hands stroking its elephantine body...

The Minotauress bellowed, snot flying, then turned and fled down another hall. The Spermatogoyle thunked after it.

"What's it gonna do?" Dicky asked. "Looks likes its jerkin' off again."

"Maybe it's fixin' ta dick-spank her," Balls ventured.

Thrashing and more bellows could be heard in the rear hall. When they looked down, the Writer was amazed to witness the Minotauress cowering terrified in the corner. The Spermatogoyle's hands stroked its body more frenetically now, hose-like veins tensing.

"I believe we're about to witness an anointment the likes of which have yet to be espied on God's green earth," the Writer said.

What followed next had little to do with the earth or God. The penile demon shuddered, veins standing out beneath its sheath of flesh, and then its second inhuman ejaculation transpired. This time the puckered hole atop its glans seemed to vomit another massive pile of sperm. The first gout splattered the Minotuaress' head, while subsequent gouts ran over the impeccable physique until it was cocooned in the thick, semi-translucent slop.

The house shook as the Minotauress, teary-eyed now, gave up one last, pitiable howl and then fell limp to a bout of harmless shivering, as the Spermatogoyle finger-wrote another supernaturally charged word on her belly...

"Dang!" Dicky exclaimed.

"That's what I'se call hosin' a bitch down hard," Balls added. Their flashlights beamed on the quivering, sperm-cloaked form. "Is it dead?"

"No," the Writer ventured. "The potent brew of supernatural sperm seems to have subdued the Minotauress to a comatose state. I can only presume that the word our ally wrote on her abdomen triggered some sort of paresis spell."

The Spermatogoyle stepped back as if winded, then bowed to Balls in veneration. The bastard daughter of Pasiphae had been rendered innocuous.

The Writer seized the moment for a metaphysical summation. "The ultimate allegorical showdown between male and female: virility versus fertility. As in quality speculative fiction, the themes become tangible living things. It's clear that in the realm of the occult, abstractions such as symbolism are as concrete and objective as the physical in our realm. Notions are represented by sentient entities."

"That's the reason the big dick's cum took the wind out'a the bitch's sails?" Dicky asked, confused.