<nettime> Sex-IT: the GIFT

[k.jacobs@beatmail.com (Katrien Jacobs)]

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
(sex-IT: the Gift


Chocolates for your dirty fingers, some filled with vagina, some with
viagra, some with venom, some with love. Love to the hard work and the
dissolution of the capitalist sculpture growing inside IT networks.
Whispering for more sex, you quietly suck it all out of your laptop and
dripping saliva, start eating those chocolates. You and your television
girlfriend when she starts occupying your nerves, stuff her underwear with
pussy cum chocolates. Poisonous dark chocolates for the netwatchdogs, feed
it to them on one of their lunchdates, tell them the moist cherry brings
prosperity, they will soon start barking and perish in their sleep.

A manipulated fin-de-siecle conglomerate of recent submissions, the 2000
voices unheard of, the gift.

k.jacobs@beatmail.com)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
** THE GIFT **

Your hands in your pockets, the ocean at your feet, I stretch myself across
your body and stare at your mouth. Taking samples from your lipstick I
smear red traces across my body, slip my fingers inside your mouth.  Taking
samples from your saliva, I smear saliva between your legs, ask you do you
need more saliva?

*

"Bi-sexual with knowledge of Nietzsche, skinny legs". Bemused and fatigued
with travel this Australian net-head, he wants a quicky en route between
Sydney and New York, he talks to his nokia who advises him to make a
stop-over in Amsterdam City. He goes to the toilet and has a conference
with his dick about Amsterdam City. He wonders how many get horny on
airplanes to such extent that they masturbate. A stewardess softly opening
the door behind him, tells him he would be surprised the number of wet
pussies serving his meals on long distance flights.

*

Gabriel Kit spread out on the dog beach, pushing wet sand and broken shells
inside the cavity between her thighs. This moist filling her goddamned
chastity belt. She catches herself thinking that she would be more
beautiful with a leather collar and leather bracelets. Robetta reads the
newspaper and the Kit wants to piss on it, to say the least.

*

The man on the airplane reroutes his ticket and gleefully exits Amsterdam
airport. Jumps on a train which directly connects him to the infamous city.
For sirs, he said, our lust is brief. We are means to those small creatures
within us and nature has other ends than we. Then said the nokia to the man
wist he what ends.

*

The Gift is Due.

*

"Shall we take a little walk in the dunes Robetta?"

"I don't like all the dogshit out there?"

"But little Robetta, we are working on a tight deadline - the 69."

*

"Do you want a nice little chocolate, monsieur?" A woman insist that he
tries out a chocolate. He has carefully hidden his nokia inside his
briefcase. This little instrument he had programmed not to be seen in
public. The man reads his tourist guide, not to accept chocolates on the
train between Paris and Amsterdam. He says no thanks, madame, I cannot
accept your offer. She says You Pussy from Oz, we all eat chocolates here.
Not one, but two or three. He looks around and sees that people on the
train are all devouring chocolates. A young hash couple from Rome, Italy,
stretching their chocolates from tongue to tongue. An Ohio girl gorgeous
boy smiling at him from the corridor, telling him to accept the chocolates.


*

So men have lived in this cave since their childhood. Since time began.
They have never left this space, or place, or topography, or topology, of
the cave. The swing around the axes of symmetry necessarily determines how
they live, but they are unaware of this. Chained by the neck, and thighs,
they are fixed with their heads and genitals facing front, opposite - which
in Socrates' tale, is the direction toward the back of the cave, of the
original matrix/womb which these men cannot represent since they are held
down by the chains that prevent them from turning their heads or their
genitals towards the daylight. (Luce Irigaray, Speculum of the other woman,
244)

*

If I want to touch your sex will you let me? Will you tell me with your
mouth where I may start smearing my saliva? Go to nipples, and lick them
with tongue, roll tongue over nipples, suck them, bite them a bit gently,
then cover them with your soft clothes. And there were your umbilical cord
used to be. The myriadminded mouthpiece. The many words I would like to
hear from you, unheard of, sticking my finger in your gift. My finger grows
harder as it grabs for your mouth.

*

I found an object for your arsehole. A smoothed grey speckled stone. As for
your anus, I like the way it puckers, sucks. I slip this new stone up its
neck and the fold of your anal delight contracts; another kind of mouth. A
secret hole. Flipped on your polished belly, I take hold of your cheeks and
spread them apart, moving my cunt up to meet that opened place of pink and
hair. You describe in detail the hardening as it occurs in a curved line
from your hole right up to the mouth of your cock, pressed against
roughsheets.You say, please fuck my arsehole. You ask, what other tools
have you ready to hand?  My ankles scape the sandy floorboards and I shove
again, wet my index finger with a bit of spittle and other juices. I insert
this digit up beside the stone, now clenched hard, pull it push it, in and
out.I slide my fur arisen labia to your crack to push the stone further.
Now the lick of my clit finds its place, having hardened to poke its tongue
out to meet your ingested river marble, which finally falls away with
wetness. Leaving rings and ripples across our shared epidermal
exhileration. You repeat the word 'arsehole' and laugh at its round tight
sound.

*

The chocolate woman remembers a phone conversation with net-head. He told
her the world between Amsterdam central station and the nieuwmarkt square
is usually described as the most excessive sodom and ghomorra on this
planet. This could be right. Right. But for local citizens, having to deal
with all the tourists it is a boring no-go area. But if you want to keep
updated on the level of mushrooms, he told her, artificial extacy and
so-called smart drugs it's a good idea to quickly walk through the red
light district.

At least that's what I do, he smirked.

She walks quickly through the red light district onto her meeting, when her
eye falls on a leather boutique. She walks in and after some failed
negotiations, buys a pair of handcuffs and boots. She steps into the mud
and throws her old shoes in the canal.  She runs into a coffee shop to
smake a joint and try out her boots.

A woman in a corner with expertise in leather comes closer and starts
touching the soles. When the chocolate boot lady pushes her away, she comes
back for more and gets dragged inside the stinkin toilet. After many hours
of hard sex work, choc finally experiences an orgasm while pushing-dripping
urine and cumming simultaneously.

*

Do not underestimate this effort. I have been practising this type of
orgasm since I was fourteen. Contracting the clit anal and leg muscles in
orgasm, contracting everything meanwhile releasing dripping some urine.
Piss can stop everything accumulated so far, depending how it is looked
upon.

*

Maria picks up the fine blue shirt and checks the label. She removes the
ironing board and iron from its closet. Maria fills the iron with distilled
water and waits for it to start steaming. "Aagh," John softly moans. "Now
don't forget the fabulon. Start ironing just like your mamma taught you.
Ooh. spray on the fabulon and let the hot steamy iron glide over the smooth
soft expensive shirt. Aaaahh. Quickly. Timing is the essence. Uh uh uh. "NO
- don't stop," John says quite loudly. "Keep ironing. I beg of you." John's
hand on his prick does not stop moving. "What is she doing now?" John
exclaims while using the mouse to adjust the framing of the camera. "This
is out of order. Oh no! I don't believe it. Maria, please don't. DON'T shit
on my nice new clean shirt."

*

But joseph, said maria, the gift is due

*

Fuck Joseph, want me to go shit somebody else instead?

*

DING - DING - DIDDLE - DING - DONG - DING - DIDDLE - DONG. Through the rows
of cubicles the door chime echoed Wagner's Niebelungen."Waerenddessen"
Luv-Inc tried desperately to nudge the wastebasket containing the smeared
tempos under the heavy wooden desk with his penny loafers - evidence which
documented his "vertiefung" in last night's Sextime material. The basket
kept getting caught on the new USB cable laid the week before and "drohte
umzukippen". Black soles charged down the microfibre carpet towards them,
building up an immense static charge...

*

Kit thought of Robetta as a cave-dweller. This was the only way she could
deal with the continuing denials of sex. Robetta was a career bitch. She
had tactically named her dog Joshette after the vc's dog who died in the
elevator. She had written a memo to the vc wherein she explained that she
understood the trauma about not being able to purchase and own a new dog.

Robetta remembers this note when Gabriel reminds her of the deadline of 69.

69 IN SYDNEY, the theory-fiction which they were supposed to co-author and
submit by the end of the year.

"Come on Robetta, let's take a walk into the dunes and brainstorm our
ideas." So there they go into the dunes. Robetta tells Kit she has never
written a theory-fiction before, how does it work?  Kit takes Robetta by
the hand and tells her its hot and fun to walk in the dunes isn't it.

"Gabriel, what is it you want to do with me. Our time is limited, 69 IN
SYDNEY is due"

"69 in Sydney is long due. Robetta You Are a Fucking Bitch"

"What do you mean, LONG due, you said the deadline was lurking, but what do
you mean exactly?"

*

LONG due, LONG due, 2000 voices moaning

*

Pit (dog of Kit) enters the scene of devastation, looks at the Kit's
longing, and yells out in pain "Asham Robetta!" Robetta flies out to grab
the dog and wants to push her tongue inside Pit's anus,  when Pit tells her
he needs more saliva. Pit gently opens Robetta's bathing suit and starts
licking her nipples, then gives a secret sign to Gabriel and makes an exit
from the dunes. Now she is very horny. Now she needs the Kit. She pulls up
her skirt and shows her sex to Kit and commands her to give her a blow job.


"Robetta, you fake deadline artist, you dog!" They soon roll around in wet
sand, as Kit slowly removes the the chastity belt by urinating Robetta into
transgression.

*

KNOCK KNOCK no answer KNOCK HARD, he had told her, we listen to music, she
knocked HARD. The cold hallway silence remarkably calming, she pushes the
door with her new boot, hoping the door will come back for more. But the
door is wide open and the orgy is finished. No explanation is needed, she
tells them, I brought you the gift. She opens her box of chocolates and
sticks them inside their mouths. She tells them to suck chocolates. Do you
need more saliva?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
k.jacobs@beatmail.com











#  distributed via <nettime>: no commercial use without permission
#  <nettime> is a moderated mailing list for net criticism,
#  collaborative text filtering and cultural politics of the nets
#  more info: majordomo@bbs.thing.net and "info nettime-l" in the msg body
#  archive: http://www.nettime.org contact: nettime@bbs.thing.net