Joseph A. Pinto

barflypoet & author of dark fiction

Welcome to Coffin Hop 2013!

While racking my brain trying to decide what to do for Coffin Hop this year, I decided – what the hell, I may as well give away three prizes. Besides the twisted path of prose I offer below, I’m going to pick three winners from those who comment on this post and offer each an e-copy of an anthology I was recently published in. Three lucky winners, three great books, one new home for each anthology. I’ll be picking who gets what, so if by chance you have already won one of these from me, just speak up and an exchange will be made.


And not to leave you wanting, here is a bit of depravity to whet your appetite for what these books may hold. I offer you ‘SEX-STARVED THING,’ for those who may not be familiar with my work on Pen of the Damned.


Nails grate across stone; she comes for me. Hellish echoes impaling the frailty of my senses through the back of my skull. Scratch, ssssscratch. Blistering pants herald her arrival from somewhere deep within my institution of darkness. Blistering, born sodden with covet, sin. I am unsure to whom those breaths belong.

She comes for me. My sex-starved thing.


Limbs twist; these cords bite into wrists, offering little freedom, holding fast my famished body to this chilled limestone. So chilled. I strain to see her; this dark surrenders nothing. I shudder with the callousness of a desperate want. So desperate. Nails grate across stone; ever closer she slinks.


“Choke me,” into obscurity, I gasp.

Nether’s inviting ledge…always upon which I teeter. A void exists below, an oblivion so familiar; I will be lost should I fall. Much the same as this thing…this thing the light of sun has never licked. “Choke me,” mouth too careless, eager. My dick throbs, pulsing with a life I wish I myself had known.

I will taste you first

Toes curl; shadows shift so subtly beyond blind eyes. Fingers clench; shadows shift so subtly beyond screaming senses. She is all around me, shifting so subtly beyond wildest imagination.


My sex-starved thing I never disobey. Mouth parts; beads of moisture tease my lips. I arch against my bed of gypsum, slam inhibitions atop stone, aching for her to break me. Delirious, this wait. I swallow dank air, the fester of her home; finally, her tongue fills my mouth with the sweetest taste I could ever despise. Swirling, swirling over teeth, probing, probing deep into ragged throat.

Fire, raging through my head. I gag; her tongue clogs my passage. I desire more. Always more. “Choke…me…” I bite down upon pulsing meat in my mouth. Chew upon festering wretchedness. Deeper her tongue thrusts, sealing pharynx, sealing remains of wasted breath within my gut. Endearing, her plague, burying my last wail deep into chest…snuffing life as I asked…interring me with the usual disclosure: she will never belong to me.

I have found the perfect end. She was born to make me hurt.

Nether’s inviting edge beckons; body numbs, stars bursting behind my lids the only light mine. From the cusp of unconsciousness, she gently rouses me. I cannot see. I am blind. Her leer fondles; the skin crackles over her jaws. Somewhere from deep within, the dissonant scuttling of things bloated with far worse than abandon. She nuzzles my cheek; her tender, moist lips nuzzle my own, grazing so softly the diseased affection left unspoken. With razor teeth, my sex-starved thing rends flesh from my face.

Sweet agony. Howling…so desperate for her tease. Fingers rake my heaving chest—Heaven. Hades burns beneath her nails. Squirm squirm squirm I do—her little slug. These cords do not yield; in turn, she yields no hope. Into my abdomen, sink her nails. I spit the contagion of my devotion from reverent mouth, screaming for more.

Within the deadened, inky blanket of her lair, the fervor of her gaze singes my engorged organ.

“Consume me,” I offer.

My sex-starved thing snorts cruelly over my body; the chill she illicits delicious. Breath swirls across pelvis.


Those bloated things, they scurry away. Reverberating between the stalagmites, feelers seeking some other form of rot. Done with me before even they start. My beautiful destroyer, she has only begun. “Consume me!” A challenge from bloody lips.


“Please…” Terribly deft fingers wedge a spreader bar between my legs. “Consume…” Cuffs snap, bite into ankle, nearly to bone. “Me!”

I am numb to her affliction.

A chortle, repulsive beyond limits of known sanity. Brutal, pitiless—a stony palm seizes my shaft, squeezing as her sadist mouth engulfs, razor blade tongue sucking, lapping. Shredding skin from my dick, shredding as she bobs. Coarse hair pricking my stomach, shredding shredding until I erupt; an orgasm of blood. My essence, it escapes in rhythmic pulses, filling her mouth—the seed of all my sin. Slowly I bleed out, for me, for her. Body stiffening; this sensation of depletion exquisite, my only regret that no longer do I die virgin deaths for my sex-starved thing. She has murdered me more times than I can count.

“Now steal me…” Mouth betraying me always.

My sex-starved thing lies atop me, my death rattle commencing beneath her jaded eyes. She laughs, the sweet music of all gone wrong. Lowers her head. Tears my throat apart. She eats, she snickers; spits blood, semen back into the wheezing hole in my neck. Taunts some more. The joke is always on me; I love my sex-starved thing.

She slides along my body. Nipples graze skin. The stone, it chews spine. I remain mutilated beneath her—an emasculated piece of nothing, a chunk of meat detained by her lure. Broken, so willing for her promise. Ruined, left yearning for more.

Blistering, the tortured pants between us. Still unsure to whom those breaths belong.

“Steal me,” pleading to the worst of all I am.

She obliges; it is what she does. My curse the blessing she delivers. Fist deep she plunges into my chest, twisting, tearing at my very corruption. Her brutality unmatched, rending my heart free of its cage. The lump of flesh now my dick twitches.

It belongs to me

She devours my heart.

The gagging nearly immediate.

The gurgling incessant from her mouth.


Somewhere in the dark, she collapses.

“Never,” voice oily in her lair. I wait until silence clots my ears, shred wrists free of her knots. For all the Devil in me, I love my sex-starved thing. I could never tell her of the poison within my heart.

~ Joseph A. Pinto

© Copyright 2013 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

20 thoughts on “Coffin Hop 2013: Day 8 Giveaway: ‘Sex-Starved Thing’

  1. Karen Soutar says:

    Oohh, the first story I ever read by you! Still my favourite. I’ve read ‘Mental Ward’ – it’s great. Must post a review in one of these spare minutes I never have… 😉
    Have a wicked Samhain! ( You can interpret that however you like!) 😉

    1. Joseph Pinto says:

      Hey Karen! Thank you; I’ve got to say, SEX-STARVED THING is my fave as well, & will be expanded in the near future…
      Oh, good, I’m happy you enjoyed ‘Mental Ward.’ Looking forward to reading your review on the antho (I hope you enjoyed HIERARCHY) 🙂
      Happy Halloween!!

  2. Wow! Talk about a viscerally horrific end to the madness lying in the boneyard: #Coffinhop
    I. Could. Not. Tear. My. Eyes. From. The. Screen.
    You are a Master of the Macabre Sir!
    The only sadness is that #CoffinHop has come to a dead end.
    It has been an honour to hop for the 3rd time with you Joseph!
    Your words are truly the dying breath of the Damned.
    Happy Halloween!
    Beware the lost spirits…
    Slipping through open spaces between words…
    Do not disturb the Abandoned & the Disappeared…
    Tread softly past their resting places…

    All hail #CoffinHop
    – KimK 😉

    1. Joseph Pinto says:

      Hey Kim! I’m am so thrilled that my depravity has aided in the further decay of your mind 😉 lol

      I have to admit, I’ve been overwhelmed by Coffin Hop – so many great posts by all, so little time to read all as I would have liked (the ultimate sacrifice made between reading & writing). I at least got to write a lil poem for you first post on ghost towns; trust me, I wished to write more!

      Thank you for reading my posts; I hope I’ve made a fan of you, as well a new Damnling for our Pen of the Damned 😉

      Many ghoulish things await you, both from myself & the Damned…stay tuned…

      1. Ooh…you have me intrigued…it would be an honour indeed!
        Watching this space with bated breath…
        There has been so much ghoulish goodness and macabre madness this #CoffinHop…I still have to make my way around to the last few coffins and pry their lids open to examine the cold bones.
        I have enjoyed every single one of your posts.
        Thank you for taking the time to dig up my coffin and exhume some of my bones this hop!
        Putting your bones back in your coffin now… 😀

  3. Ohhhhhh! The Coffin Hop is over! Grrrr! Want more!

    1. Joseph Pinto says:

      Coffin Hop may be ending, but our ghoulishness never ceases… 🙂

      1. blazemcrob says:

        Like you say, Joe, it’s never over for us! We are The Damned!


  4. I don’t even need to tell you how much I LOVE this piece – the visceral nature of the passion, the utter devotion of loving someone too much to let them see the corruption within you, the betrayal of that corruption that kills the love. THIS IS SUPERB! Add to that how strong the possessor/possession angle is as a means to convey emotion through writing, and this one knocks it clean out of the park. While it sticks to no standard stricture what-so-ever, I am floored by the power behind the ‘voice’ this piece is written in. Truly one of my favorites! There is always a fine line between madness and genius, this is nowhere near the madness some may read into it, but pure genius in its construction and telling. Beyond magnificent. :}

    1. Joseph Pinto says:

      I appreciate your support & kind words, Nina, more than you know! It’s kinda funny: when I finished Sex-Starved Thing, I thought that very few people would enjoy; more so, i believed readers would ‘not get’ & hate my style on this piece. But I loved it, & I’m a firm advocate in always writing for yourself first & foremost, otherwise the passion & love for & within the piece will be gone.

      Yes, I seem to always straddle the line between madness & genius (honestly, I think madness wins 9 1/2 times out of ten) lol 🙂

  5. John says:

    Yay for sex-starved things!

    1. Joseph Pinto says:

      lol We all gotta have our Sex-Starved Things about, John!

  6. Woah. That was intense.
    This line: ‘I spit the contagion of my devotion from reverent mouth’, fantastic.
    The ending was beautiful, unexpected.
    You aren’t ‘leading me’ any where Joseph, nu uh. lol
    Our versions of ‘dark’ are a little different..I have leaps and bounds to go through before even attempting to write like this, well, or even think like this for that matter…
    Can I have a book now? 😉
    Great short.

    1. Joseph Pinto says:

      Thank you, Jennifer (and apologies for the late response; somehow, I’m just seeing this message 😦 )

      Yes, I think this bit of prose of mine caught many by surprise 😉

  7. mari wells says:

    It’s even better the second time!

    1. Joseph Pinto says:

      Thank you very much, Mari!

  8. Danielle says:

    I’d never heard of you until right now. Well, until a little while ago when I clicked that follow button, read a post to check you out, and nearly ignored a very important phone call 3/4 of the way through because I didn’t want to stop reading. So however long that all took, that’s when I heard of you, that long ago. I am mesmerized. What a great introduction to your work!

    My own first attempts at writing have a certain depravity, at least some of them. It is of a different nature by virtue of subject matter and nowhere near the intensity. I’m looking forward to reading more and watching your influence slowly creep into my darker work.

    1. Joseph Pinto says:

      Hi Danielle! 🙂

      Thank you very much; well, I’m hoping to make my name one that you will remember. I am thrilled that ‘SEX-STARVED THING’ seized your attention the way it did; I write in many different styles & voices. SST was more an emotive piece for me, but it may become a larger work down the road. I don’t force any ‘tone’ into my fiction; it’s either there or it’s not.

      I hope you become a member of Pen of the Damned ( There, you can explore some of my work further, as well all the fine members of the Damned. We offer readers free short fiction every Tuesday (although you can read it any damn you want lol).

      Thank you for your support 🙂

  9. Bat Hughes says:

    Wicked. Such a deep exploration of passion and going down beyond limit, delivered through a poet’s soul. Gritty and lyrical — quite a feat.

    1. Joseph Pinto says:

      What’s going on, Sir Bat? Thanks very much, my friend! I’m glad you enjoyed SEX-STARVED THING. It’s always interesting to get feedback on this piece because it can be interpreted in so many different ways 🙂

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