House of Holes

Shandee Learns How to Wash a Penis

Shandee climbed the steps to the porch of the House of Holes and rang the doorbell. A dreamy leggy woman, barefoot, wearing only a man’s blue shirt and yellow wooden beads, opened the screen door. Her name tag read “Zilka — Intake and Interview.”

“I’m here to find the man who belongs to this arm,” said Shandee, holding up Dave’s arm.

Zilka, toying with her beads, looked Shandee over and led her to a waiting room, where she gave her a clipboard with a legal agreement to sign. “Lila will see you soon,” she said. “She’s the director.” She walked away.

The waiting room was empty. There were two couches and some lamps with fringed lampshades and some pictures on the wall of sheep in fields. Shandee hummed along with Sade’s “Smooth Operator,” while Dave’s arm, resting on her lap, gently stroked the back of her hand.

On the low coffee table in front of her was a pile of magazines. She began flipping through a copy of Contemporary Crochet. There were some very impressive crochet patterns — for dresses, scarves, leggings, and strange lumpy works of art — and then in the middle she came to a section called “Adult Crochet.” There followed four pages of sultry men with perfect T-shaped chest hair staring off at the horizon wearing little crocheted ballsack pouches with their semi-erections hanging through. Then there were four pages of women smiling at the camera and wearing crocheted thongs and crocheted bikini tops that were tiny triangles over fleshpots of breast and crinkled nipple. The world of handicrafts had changed a bit, Shandee thought.

When she looked up, Zilka was leading in another arrival, who took a seat on the couch. Shandee stole a glance at him and gasped inwardly: such a beautiful boy — ascetic looking, with a shy large toothy smile and high cheekbones and large bony knuckles and heartbreaking shoulders. His hair was cut very short. He wore a frayed sweatshirt and torn jeans. Shandee nodded at him in a friendly way and casually tossed the crochet magazine back onto the pile.

“Hey, I’m Ruzty,” he said, blushing, with a hint of a Bulgarian accent. “This is my first time here. It’s kind of a crazy thing. I was in a parking lot putting some plywood in the truck, and this girl walks up and gives me a flyer for a festival.”

“What kind of festival? I like festivals.”

“Eh, it’s a little embarrassing for me,” he said, waving and looking away. “But she had big silver earrings on her ears, and she said that the first three winners got five thousand dollars — wow! And she said if I wanted to compete in the festival I would have to go with her to the House of Holes. She was very nice to me, all whisper-whisper. Very tall, too, like a supermodel. And then she pulled out her earring from her ear and told me to look real close at the little hole.”

“The hole in her earlobe?” said Shandee.

“Yeah, so I looked real close, and then, voom, I was taken into the hole, and now here I am.”

“That’s like what happened to me,” said Shandee. She told the story of finding Dave’s arm in the quarry and how they communicated by writing notes and how Dave’s arm had made an O with his fingers. “Dave’s arm, meet Ruzty. Ruzty, meet Dave’s arm.” She held Dave’s arm out.

“Hey, dude,” said Ruzty, and gave the arm a thumb-to-thumb handshake. He smiled at Shandee — dazzling teeth. “Good for you to travel with somebody who is a friend.”

“That’s very true,” said Shandee.

Just then Zilka reappeared with two more men in tow. “This is Dune,” she said. “And this is Hax.” She handed Shandee a folded men’s blue shirt and some crocheted leg warmers. “Put these on now.” She walked away.

Shandee’s heart fluttered as she shook hands with the new arrivals: Dune, absurdly handsome in an old suede jacket, with an ironic, off-kilter smile, and Hax, West Indian, keen-eyed and devastatingly white T-shirted, with a broad forehead and long tawny dreadlocks and a light beard.

“Hello,” said Hax.

“Hey, folks,” Dune said, as he signed the form on the clipboard, after which he took several long seconds to look Shandee over. “You’re pretty, shit. Tight little body on you, too. Look at you! Your mama must be proud.” Then he cocked his head to the side. “Is that somebody’s arm you’ve got tucked away in your lap?”

Shandee told the story.

“So you’re a little bit in love, that’s sweet,” said Dune. “Makes sense to go for just an arm, though. Forget the head. Men are bullshitters. They’ll always feed you a line.”

“Hey, man,” said Hax, turning, “don’t go all loungey on the girl. Relax.”

“Loungey? Who are you, shrimp locker?”

Hax looked at him. “I’m a masseur.”

“Oh ho, a masseur.”

“And I remove tattoos as well, manually.”

“I’ve got a tattoo on my asscheek that says ‘Remember Sputnik,’ ” Dune said. “I forget why. Can you get rid of it?”

“Hey, hey,” said Ruzty, looking nervously from Dune to Hax.

“I cannot help you,” said Hax to Dune. “Only women.”

Dune snorted, then repented. “Sorry, I’ll be nice,” he said, and he looked back at Shandee. “So can your arm lover hear us chatting?” Whereupon Dave’s arm flipped the bird at him. Dune chuckled and said, “I guess so.” He picked up the copy of Contemporary Crochet and began flipping through it. “Oops, dicks in hammocks,” he said. He handed the magazine to Hax, who grunted and put it down.

To be conversational, Shandee asked Hax how he got there.

“A fine woman came up to me on the street where I sell my belt buckles,” answered Hax. “She asked me would I like to go to a handjob festival.”

“You as well!” said Ruzty.

“Me, too,” said Dune. “Smackdown. Longest cumshot wins the prize.”

“It’s a cumshot contest at a handjob festival?” said Shandee, puzzled. “Goodness, that’s rather crude.”

“Maybe it is crude, or maybe it’s very beautiful for some people to see a healthy man showing all his healthy ways by letting a woman shake her boobies for him and pull out all his jizm,” said Hax.

“Five thousand, I could pay off my motorcycle,” said Dune.

Shandee stood. “Guys, please look away for a moment, I have to change.” The three men looked politely away while Shandee took off her jeans and pulled on the leg warmers. Then she took off her shirt and put on the men’s shirt, buttoning three of its buttons.

“Okay to look now,” she said. “Ta-dah.”

“Nice!” said Hax, sitting up. Dune sprawled and smiled, lifting an eyebrow of approval. Ruzty blushed. Dave’s arm drummed his fingers.

Zilka reappeared. “Director Lila is ready to talk to you,” she said to Shandee. Together they went into the inner office. There was an oscillating fan going. Director Lila was on the phone, toying with a banana in a fruit bowl. “Well then,” she was saying, “we’ll just suck it all out. If we have to we have to.” She hung up.

“Shandee, sweetheart, I’m sorry it’s so hectic today. And this must be Dave’s arm. Yes, yes. Aren’t you cute together. May I?” Shandee handed Lila the arm, and Lila pressed Dave’s hand against her face. “Mmmm, gentle touch he has.”

“I think I’m a bit in love,” said Shandee, “and the weird thing is I don’t know what Dave looks like, or what his voice is like, or what his personality is like, or anything.”

“Ain’t that the way it is sometimes,” Lila said. “You don’t know a damn thing about them and yet you love them to pieces.” Lila gave Dave’s arm a pat, sighing, and handed it back. “There are times when I just don’t know why I’m doing all this,” she confided.

“It’s not easy for you, I would imagine,” said Shandee.

“No, it isn’t. The sex happiness of so many people — it weighs on you. We have our fun, sure, but we have our problems, too. The Pearloiner has been on a spree lately, stealing clits. She is one sick bitch. Zilka got her clit stolen clean away.”

“That’s terrible,” said Shandee.

Lila leaned forward. “That’s why she’s so vague sometimes. She’s lost her focus. And yet life does go on. You see that light?” Lila pointed to a small red light that blinked above the words PLEASURE FIRST. “Every time somebody has an orgasm somewhere in the House of Holes that light lights up. Whenever that light lights up I feel happy. I was working in hospital administration — I was seeing my friends get old, my life go by. Now I’m living. Don’t you wish you were having an orgasm right this second?”

“I guess so,” said Shandee.

“Well I do. After I have an orgasm I get so darn much work done. However.” She thought briefly, tapping her pen lightly on her nose. “Do you know how to fly an airplane?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t.” Shandee waited.

“That’s too bad.” She clicked a button. “Zilka. Could you bring those three arrivals in from the waiting room?”

Shandee thought she should bring the conversation around. “So how do you think I should best go about searching for my Dave?” she asked.

“Let me muse on that further,” said Lila, taking off her bifocals. “I’ll need to hold the dear one again.” She sniffed Dave’s arm’s knuckles and pressed his hand lightly on her breast. “Hmmm. Let me just consider awhile. Mmm.”

Zilka opened the door for Hax, Ruzty, and Dune.

Lila quickly lowered Dave’s arm and looked over the crowd. “My goodness,” she said, “this is a pleasant afternoon. Dune, hello again, you rogue. Can any of you three fly a plane?”

“I can sail a boat,” said Hax.

“I drive a stunt motorcycle,” said Dune.

“I can bend my thumbs backward, like this,” said Ruzty, demonstrating.

“That settles it. Hax and Dune, you’ll fly the pornsucker ship to Baltimore with one of the pussypilots. Daggett will give you pointers. Daggett!”

A dark-haired man appeared with a heavy bag on his back.

“Daggett, we’ve got an emergency overload,” said Lila. “We’re going to have to suck all the bad porn out of Baltimore, Maryland.”

“Not Baltimore!” said Daggett.

“Yes. Buildings and Grounds says there’s a sentient mass forming in our main settling tank. We need dilution. Take these two fine men to the pornsucker squadron right away. I will brook no delay!”

Daggett bowed and complied.

“Have fun with that dude’s arm, girls!” called Dune as they left.

“That boy is fresh,” said Lila cheerfully. “And now, Zilka, will you please help this lovely young man here, with the flexible thumbs”—she gestured at Ruzty—“to kick off his pants and lie on the massage table. It’s a nice solid table, bamboo.”

Shandee, watching out of the corner of her eye, saw Zilka begin to busy herself with removing Ruzty’s wardrobe. She was curious to see Ruzty naked, but she forced herself to look back at Director Lila. Meanwhile, Lila was frowning and squeezing the length of Dave’s arm. Eventually she said, “Shandee, here’s your best course of action. A lot of our armless men end up at the Hall of the Armless Men Who Still Want to Fuck Twat. That’s way across the salt marshes.”

“Oh, okay,” said Shandee.

“With those legs on you, you’ll have to get yourself a tall pair of waders. They’re sold on O Street, at a little place called Wade for Me. Ask for Angelo, he’s a sweetheart. He’ll measure you all over. But first I’m going to ask you to give us some help right here in Intake. Because we are busy.”

“Sure, I’m game,” said Shandee.

“You’ve arrived here on what’s called a work-study scholar-ship,” Lila said. “We’ve got dozens of men arriving every day, with their wallets. The rush is on. We scan them for badness when they rematerialize — we’ll find any of nineteen diseases, cough, runny nose, STDs, of course. Is it nineteen, Zilka, or twenty-three now?”

“I don’t know,” said Zilka.

“At least nineteen diseases, plus any tendency toward thieving, scamming, or violent behavior. Which doesn’t mean some real a-holes don’t get in.”

“For instance, what’s his name, Pootie,” said Zilka, folding Ruzty’s pants.

“Pootie was awful. So we screen them. And we know that some of these arrivals are nervous and uncertain, as well as extremely good looking, and they need a good friendly penis scrub. That’s what we want help with at the moment. From you.”

Ruzty was standing completely naked, his hands crossed over his crotch. “Excuse me?” he said. “Hello?”

Lila turned. “Hon, what’s your name, sir?”

“Ruzty. I’m from Vermont.”

“Well, Ruzty from Vermont, I don’t see how you can have a problem with getting naked for a brief Penis Wash tutorial. We need to show Shandee the way we do it here at the House of Holes — the old-fashioned up-country way. Zilka?”

Zilka guided Ruzty onto the massage table, and the three women leaned over him. Zilka stroked his short hair. Lila stroked his chest muscles and right shoulder. “Aren’t you a smooth sight, oh my,” she said. “A regular Marky Mark.”

Shandee caught Ruzty’s eye and smiled at him. He rolled his eyes. “Sorry,” he said, in his fetching accent.

Zilka held up two orange mittens. “Okay, so your job is to put on these sponge mittens and go out and wash the men who pass by you on the line. It’s like a car wash. And the way you do it—”

“Excuse me, let me just interject,” said Lila. “It’s like a car wash with only luxury sport coupes, Ferraris, Miatas, etcetera. The men who go through the Penis Wash are personally selected either by me or by Aunt Maven or by somebody in charge. They are some of the tip-toppest-looking men who come in. So it’s an honor to be washed on the Penis Wash, and it’s an honor to be a penis washer. Both. Now carry on, Zilka, you’re doing good.”

Zilka held up her mitten. “Now we don’t have any warm-water sprayer in here to show you, but on the wash station you have a sprayer that hangs from the ceiling, and you have foot pedals and you spray the man down, like this, shpffffffssssssh, all around his crotch and his scrotum, get it all wet and sloppy, and then you pull down the soap hose, and you spray that on him and then you take your gloves and work the suds all up like this, squoosh squoosh squoosh.” She made pretend scrubbing motions an inch over Ruzty’s crotch. Ruzty crossed his hands over his chest and beamed at Shandee.

“Can I talk to the man as I’m scrubbing him?” asked Shandee.

“Yes,” said Zilka.

“Of course you can,” said Lila. “They don’t really know what’s happening yet. They’ve just arrived, and this is the first time that they’ve been naked here. So yes, talk to them if you want. It’s a matter of style. This experience is important, and your job is to make sure that they’re clean and they’re happy. Happy and clean.”

“But you can’t take too long,” said Zilka, “because you’re at a spray station and you only have a few minutes, and you have to be sure they’re all rinsed off.”

Lila made a conceding nod. “You don’t want to be leaving them soapy,” she said. “And you can scrub them all over, not just their crotches, obviously. But try not to spray directly in their faces, unless they want you to.”

“I think I’ve got the basic principle,” said Shandee. “Can I see how the gloves feel?”

Zilka handed them to her, and Shandee put them on. She winked at Ruzty and began an aerial simulation. “So I spray him all over, fffffff, and then I suds him up, like this, and I suds around all over his nice chest and his stomach and I suds all around his thighs, and higher up, and I get to his balls, and I suds his cock, like this—”

“Look at him,” said Zilka. “And look at his cock, wow.” Ruzty’s cock was leaning dramatically to one side.

“Oh my goodness, our boy’s got a banana cock!” said Lila.

“That’s why I am shy,” Ruzty said. “When it gets hard it curves sharply to the left. Almost a full ninety degrees when it’s very hard, as it is now. It has been true my whole life. Once I had a girlfriend who said it was my progressive penis. But actually I’m a libertarian.” He lifted it to show them. It was heavy and hard, like a shepherd’s crook. “It can straighten some, you see? I am trying to overcome many years of embarrassment because some women say that they like a strong curve.”

“Oh, some women love a curve,” said Lila. “Am I right, Shandee?”

“Sure, I guess,” Shandee said. But she was in shock. She hadn’t seen that many penises in her life, and she had never seen one shaped like that. It was extreme, and it was extremely exciting. Also there was something distracting happening low down on her leg. She looked toward the floor. Dave’s arm was gripping her ankle and squeezing it fussily. “Oh, I’m sorry, Davie,” she said, “did you crawl all the way over here from my bag? Oh, my dear. Isn’t that sweet. I’m sorry.” She gave the sponge mittens back to Zilka and lifted Dave’s arm. Then she felt flummoxed. “You two have met, I think,” she said.

Lila wanted to wind things up. “And we will help you find Dave,” she said. “But now it’s time for you, Shandee, to go to your hotel and check in. Tomorrow you’ll do the Penis Wash for real. I’ll watch over Dave’s arm back here, if you don’t mind. He’s such a heartbreaker, isn’t he? I do love a veiny hand.”

“I think I’ll take Dave with me, if that’s all right,” said Shandee, a little crisply.

“Of course, hon,” said Lila. “And Ruzty, thank you for being our teaching aid. I really think you’re going to have to adopt a sideways stance at the cumshot competition.”

Ruzty sat up — his penis, fortunately, had subsided. “Yes, I will stand almost sideways,” he said. “But I will still make my come go quite far that way, I think.”

“Good for you,” said Lila. “And thank you, Zilka, for your tips, and let’s see if we can get Ruzty in on tomorrow afternoon’s penis scrub with the other men, if there’s a slot, and we’ll put Shandee on the main station, okay?”

“Is this how I should be dressed tomorrow?” asked Shandee. “Just a man’s shirt and crocheted leggings?”

Everyone nodded enthusiastically. Ruzty couldn’t take his shining eyes off her.

“Oh, I almost forgot the most important thing,” said Lila. “Tomorrow, if you’re inclined, go ahead and stroke the men’s penises. Make them feel good. But gently. Do not ever, ever jerk them through to a climax. If you do, their enthusiasm will flag, and they won’t spend their life savings on activities here at the House. Scrub, don’t tug.”

“Scrub, don’t tug, got it,” said Shandee. “I guess I’ll get back to the hotel now.” Like never before, Shandee felt the blood slamming in her bursting clit. She was beside herself. She had to get somewhere private. “See you soon, Ruzty,” she said, putting every emotion she had into her good-bye smile.

“See you,” said Ruzty.

Zilka took her to the hotel room. Shandee said good-bye to her and closed the door and took off her clothes. She pulled out Dave. “Oh, Dave, I missed you so much,” she said. “I want to sit on your hand so bad. Can I sit on your hand?”

Dave’s fingers wiggled yes. Shandee positioned his hand on the corner of the bed, and she sat down on it and crushed her pussy into his fingers and worked her hips in circles. “Give me a couple of stiff fingers up there, Davie,” she said. She felt them slip up inside her, and whoo that was good! She bounced up and down on Dave’s hand for a while, and then saw a bowl of fruit and said, “Wait, Dave, I want you to hold this orange.” She put a navel orange in his palm and then she lowered herself onto its thick bumpy skin, cool against her opening pussyhole. She circled around the orange for a while — rocked and rolled on it — crushing Dave’s knuckles into the bedspread.

Then she pulled a green banana off the fruit bowl. “Dave, please hold this big banana straight up for me.”

He did, of course, being a gentleman of an arm, and she admired how curvy and upsticking it was—“a banana cock,” Lila had said of Ruzty. She remembered the sight of Ruzty’s cock getting hard in Lila’s office. “Dave, I want to fuck this green banana so bad,” she said. She pulled her pussy open so that she could see it push in, and Dave’s arm held it steady for her. She felt the unripe fruit drive curvingly deep inside her till she was well and truly socketed.

“Dave, please help me come,” she said. “Please fuck the banana in me.” Dave moved it and jiggled it, and she circled her fingers one way and then the other over her crimson clit. She started to come with her legs and her hips, and she smashed herself down on Dave’s banana fist and ground into it and said, “Grrrr,” and watched herself in the mirror humping on the corner of the bed. As her orgasm found its way up her legs, her whole body went clong, clong, clong. “Oh, that’s it, Dave,” she said. But in her mind she was thinking, Ruzty, Ruzty, I love your eyes and face, and I wish you could see me coming.