Whore Today, Gone Tomorrow

One day Eric the Weenie was coming back from a NASTY (National Association of Saddened and Tampered Youths) meeting when he saw a whorehouse. Eric wasn't the prettiest apple in the tree, so he doesn't get laid a lot. He's so Ugly, the only girls whoever look at Eric are bulimics because he makes vomiting more easy. Since he was right at a whorehouse and feeling a little backed up, he decided to rent a prostitute and have her give him a handjob to relieve the stress of daily life as a paid stalker of homos.

Eric walked into the whorehouse and spoke to the big, black guy with the fur coat and the hat with a feather in it. It was Tommy the Pimp. He owned the locally famous whorehouse and all the bitches who worked there, including Sue Y. Dontgeblomè, the woman who gets around...men's cock. "Uh, excuse me sir. Um. I-I'd like a whore, please."

Tommy the Pimp replied back, "Damn, son! Were yo' ran over by the ugly car?! God, I'm feeling sick from just looking at yo' derangedly mutated face."

Eric looked sadly into Tommy's eyes and said, "I'm sorry, mister. I really just wanted to ejaculate with a woman clutching my penis, but I guess I'm too disgusting. I'll leave now, taking my horrendous monstrosity of a face with me."

Feeling sorry for Eric, Tommy said, "Nah, yo' can stay, Elephant Man. I mean...yo'. All my costumers are hideous, mostly fat, though. I'll even give yo' a discount because it's yo' first time."

"Really! All I wanted was a handjob! Thanks!"

"Listen, Hamburglar, don't so emotional or I'll change my mind and yo' won't get one of my delightful hos." Tommy the Pimp said as Eric hugged him and grabbed Tommy's butt.

Tommy the Pimp agreed to let Eric rent a drab. Since Tommy was very fond of his tarts, he warned Eric if anything happened to them he'd cut off Eric's dick and beat Eric to death with it. Next, Tommy would take Eric's dead body and have a necrophiliac have his way with him. Then, Tommy said he's take Eric's cum soaked corpse and chop it up into little pieces so he could serve it to his street-walkers for a nice flesh a-la-mode. Last, Tommy would take their crap and throw it at old people at multiple nursing homes, so they couldn't find Eric's whole body to bury.

Everything was all set. Tommy was paid a higher price even though he said he'd give a discount and all Eric needed to do was pick the chippy of his choice. He had a wide (but not wide down there) variety of bawds to chose from. There was the ever popular Sue Y. Dontgeblomè (the hot Jew-mamma from Texas), Justine Mehole (the redheaded pincushion), Hot Chocolate (the black babe with a big booty-can), and Saucy Sally Sardine (petite, pleasureful, stinky).

Eric was one for a different color. He likes his coffee black as spades. Jungle fever was nothing new to him. Dr. Hibert is his favorite Simpson's character. There was something about dark shadows that got him aroused. There's a picture of Harriet Tubman naked over his bed. He listens to rap. Masturbating to Oprah is his hobby. Picking blackkk labs over golden retrievers was his preference He would always buy the chocolate eclair over the strawberry shortcake when he bought ice creams from the Great Humor man. He read the comic Blade while he . . . Uh . . . Oh, I'm sorry. I got carried away. The lovely lady he chose, if you haven't guessed already, was Hot Chocolate.

Eric the Weenie and Hot Chocolate went to the second floor of the whorehouse. Once inside room 23, Eric sat on the bed and asked HC to strip, "Uh, Miss Chocolate? Um, would you do a little dance, make a little noise, and strip down tonight?"

Because she was Eric's tramp for an hour she did it. She first removed her shirt and bra. The site of erect nipples made the guilt-ridden Eric cry. HC tried to console Eric by rubbing her pussy in his face. It worked too! Everybody was happy again even though Eric blew his nose with HC's cooch.

After Hot Chocolate was naked Eric wanted HC to give him a handjob. He pulled down his pants a showed his 3 inch, alligator skinned, dick for everyone who was watching to see. Because she really wanted to please Eric, just for a bigger tip(Heh. Heh. Heh.) and to know she did a job well done, she convinced Eric to let her give him a blowjob, "Masa, wetter is better." Eric didn't care. As long as he could shoot all of his plentiful abundance of goo, he'd be happy.

Giving the basic rules, Hot Chocolate said to Eric, "Now remember, it's very important to tell me when you're ready to ejaculate. We don't to make a mess of my face."

Eric replied, "We don't want that because you're so hot!"

Eric laughed at his bad pun as Hot Chocolate got on her knees by the bed Eric was sitting on and she wrapped her lips around his awkwardly tasting dick. With her voluptuous lips, she caressed his cock over and over. She was so fast that Eric's nutsack flew up and wacked him in the head, causing him to black out. HC didn't even notice because she was so into it and she just continued to give Eric head.

The more she went, the more Eric the Weenie's weenie grew bigger. It pulsated...well, like a man's pulse and it shook like one of those beds you put a quarter in at a cheap motel. Expecting Eric to tell her when he ready to cum so she can pull out, Hot . . . OH NO!! Eric cummed right into HC's mouth faster then I could type. The horror!

Because Eric doesn't have sex or masturbate, there was so much semen in his testicles that it just exploded right out of his pee-hole, ripping it in the process! The cornucopia of sperm in her mouth was so great that she couldn't breathe out of it. Her only hope was to breathe out of her nose, but alas, the cum came out of her nose, clogging the nostrils up. She even tried to spit it out, but it stuck to the roof of her mouth, like a peanut butter and cum sandwich. Hot Chocolate, then, went to get a spoon to dig out the infamous white substance, but she accidentally fell over her black, lacy panties and swallowed a mouthful of semen. If only HC wore a dental-dam in her mouth like the more experienced hookers do, she wouldn't have been in this mess.

There was a gallon of cum stuck halfway between Hot Chocolate's mouth and stomach. All of it was in the middle of her throat, happily there sealing off her accentual oxygen to the brain, choking her to death. It didn't even move, like your annoying neighbor with the rusty car in the front lawn, the butt-ugly kids who play loud music during the night, the wife who always wants to have sex with you, and with the dog that chews up you newspaper and pisses on your car.

With Hot Chocolate dying on the floor of Tommy the Pimp's whorehouse and Eric the Weenie unconscious on the bed, she took her final breath, grabbed onto Eric's rock hard dick, and she mumbled with contorted words, "See me smile. See me grin. See me choking from within. See me cry. See me die. See the semen drip to my thigh." There, penis in hand, she succumbed.

Later, Eric woke up to a tremendous pain on his cock. It was Hot Chocolate's death grip. The rigor mortis hurt as if it came straight from hell. He looked at the crippling fist that held on tighter than Marlon Brando's hand on a turkey club sandwich and he worked his way up to the wench's face. That's when he noticed she had Xs for eyes. Just to make sure, Eric, the boy scout, felt for a heat beat, but there was none. He now knew for a fact that HC died, from unknown (to him) causes.

All Eric wanted to do at the moment was to get HC's stiff hand off his stiffy. "All I need to do is get rid of my erection and I can slip my penis out of her hard hand." Eric tried waiting for in to get smaller, but his wood was still growing. Next, he thought of a few people that he thought would help him lose an erection: his mom, his dad, Santa Claus, Jerry Sienfeld, and even the Jolly Green Giant. Still that boner was here to stay. That's when he thought of himself and suddenly he was limp again.

Once his petrified problem was out of the way he could think more reasonable thoughts. He couldn't help imaging what was to come. "What am I going to do?! I killed Hot Chocolate, somehow. Tommy's going to wipe me out faster than a turd stuck in a butt, for sure now!"

The hour was almost up. Eric didn't have much time before Tommy the Pimp found out that one of his prized trollops was dead. Eric didn't want to die by his own wiener. There was so many things he wanted to do. He wanted to rent 23 pornos in one day. Eric always wanted to marry and have beautiful kids, unlike his undesirable face. And the last thing he wanted to do was live out his dream as a transvestite circus clown, rather than stalk gay people.

What was Eric to do? Did he wait out the storm or did he try to escape like the people from Gilligan's Island? But they went back to the island at the end of the series after they left it. Oh, well. That was a bad analogy.

Eric thought of negotiating with Tommy, but that wouldn't work. No one in their right mind would try to talk to a pimp right after you killed one of his strumpets. Eric could see it now, him just getting beat to death by means of his own pecker. "I guess I got to make a break for it."

Eric looked around the room. He saw no windows, not even a secret passage like in Scooby-Doo. He tried to smash a whole in the wall, but he couldn't lift a heavy enough object. Kicking it didn't help either, he only got as sore foot and nothing more. Eric concluded that the only way out would have to be through the front door, right past Tommy the Pimp.

Eric opened the door to his room. He poked his head out peered down the hall. He saw someone coming. He thought it was Tommy the Pimp, but it was only Stephen "Number One Customer" Angermaier, Eric's boss, and some hustler he was with. Eric called Stephen over quietly, "Hey, Mr. Stephen. Come 'ere."

"Well, if it isn't Eric the Weenie, the guy who can't even get a date with his hand. How's the stalking of good ol' Randy 'I'm the fag who likes speedos' Ricktor?" Stephen nonchalantly asked.

Eric replied, "He's still gay and his two daughters that weigh 66 pounds combined. Hey, what are you doing here?"

"I got a whore to celebrate my victory in a hide-and-seek-and-maim game. Me and my friend Dan won. They never found us both hiding in a woman's pussy. Ha!"

"Really? Wow. That's nice. But seriously, I need your help. I got this problem . . ."

"No can do, bucko, "Stephen interrupted, "The clock's ticking on Naomi 'The Goth Bombshell' Parker. She's got a job to do, if you know what I mean."

"But . . . But . . ." Eric sadly wined.

"Maybe. Ha! Ha! Ha!" Stephen laughed as he walked away to his room.

With no help from Stephen, Eric was surely in for it now. He looked back into his room and still saw a dead hooker with cum running out of her mouth onto her leg lying on her floor. Hot Chocolate was more like Stone Cold Chocolate. And she was starting to smell-- like a really bad queef.

When Eric looked back to see Tommy the Pimp coming towards him, he started to panic. Eric slammed the door and locked it. Then, Tommy banged on the door and told him to open up. That's when Eric's life flashed before his eyes. He saw the time his face was doused with acid at a baseball game, the time his grandma punched him in the face, the many times when no one showed up for his birthday parties, the time his parents tried to leave him on the side of the road, and the time his date didn't show up for the prom because she was having sex with his dog outside on the front lawn of his house.

When Eric was done reminiscing, Tommy broke through the door. He yelled, "What the hell yo' doing, boy?! Where's Hot Chocolate? Oh my God! Yo' killed her, Abe Vagoda!"

"Yes, she did die, sir, but I can explain." Eric frighteningly said.

"Yo' better, Wicked Witch of the West, or I'll kill yo' ass. Let's hear yo' lies dat I despise, grandpa."

Filled with mixed emotions, fear and anger, Eric blurted out, "I may be ugly, but I'm not old! So stop calling me names of old people. MY name is Eric! ERIC, you fucking pimp!!!!!!

"Dat's it. I'm wupin' yo' ass, Eric the ugly cunt!"

Then Tommy walked over to Eric and bitch-slapped him. Eric flew across the room and he hit his head on a hidden camera behind a plant. The camera broke and a video tape popped out. Eric said to Tommy, "What's this?"

Tommy replied, "It's a tape, yo' stupid, wrinkly fuck! I always tape my bitches. I'm like a football coach. It helps me seez their weaknesses and strengths. It makes dem better whores. If they please my costumers they'll want to come back fo' mo! Also, yo' can get a copy of yo' visit fo' a small price of $6.66."

That gave Eric an idea. He told Tommy what he thought happened to Hot Chocolate. Tommy found it hard to believe. Tommy said, "It sounds implausible. Let's check the video tape to see if what yo' said is true."

The two went to the TV and put the tape in and rewound it to the beginning. Tommy played the tape and up on the TV was Tommy smacking HC around. Tommy hit the fast forward button and said, "Uh, don't pay no attention to dat. The bitch had an itch."

Tommy the Pimp stopped it at the part where Eric walked into the room. They both watched Hot Chocolate strip naked, Eric colliding with his own applesack, and HC dying with Eric temporarily out of service. Tommy then knew Eric didn't kill her directly, the story checked out. "So yo' were right, but yo' not getting off dat easily." Tommy the Pimp said as he snapped his fingers.

Then a 7 foot tall man with huge muscles came in, breaking through the wall. "Yes, Mr. Arctic?"

Tommy the Pimp pointed his finger with the 23 karat gold ring and blue diamond at Eric. The gigantic man roughed up Eric, just a tad, with Tommy overseeing the beatin'. Eric only suffered a minor concussion, a fractured leg, a broken arm and nose, some bruises, and a shattered right testicle.

After the beating Tommy said to Eric, "If yo' even set yo' ugly-ass bone near my respectable whorehouse, I'll kill yo' with my bare, black hands! And when I'm doing killing yo', I'll kill yo' family, making sure yo' family name ain't passed on! Last, I'll piss on yo' bodies right before I burn 'em and piss on iem again to put the fire out!"

Eric was thrown out of the whorehouse. Literally. The guy who was a scientific experiment gone awry picked up Eric's battered body and tossed him onto the sidewalk, just as Stephen was leaving. Eric looked at him as if he needed help and said, "Man, they play rough. That Mr. Arctic guy and his whores suck."

Stephen looked at the swollen Eric, paused, and replied, "They sure do. They sure do. Especially if you got the S&M deal." Stephen then smiled and walked away from the half-dead Eric without lending a hand. Eric frowned at Stephen and stood up on his good leg, taking a big whiff of the city air. "Goddamn! Stephen farted! Ugh, this stinks. Well, off to the hospital."

That was the last time Eric the Weenie ever had one of Tommy the Pimp's hookers suck his dick. He learned his lesson. Eric from then on would go to a different pimp to get different bitches to give him a handjob, no matter how bad those floozies wanted to give blowjobs.