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PROXIMA BOUND by Davi Mai.

Humanity’s last hope rests with the colonists aboard the generational starship Attenborough. Bound for Proxima Centauri, a thousand years away. Catastrophe strikes when a reactor meltdown cuts off those in the ship’s front from the rear. Two factions must now struggle to survive.

With four hundred years still to travel, we join a plucky teenager, named “Thief”. She’s found a way through the ventilation system, around the radioactive core of the ship and into the front sections. Thief brings back vital components that might help the rear-dwellers connect the ship’s computer. …


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“Watch out for Annabel, she’s really anal about everything.” I remembered the advice clearly, as Team Leader Annabel strode through the kitchen towards me.

She could have been in one of the company’s commercials. Her uniform fit perfectly. Immaculate in every way, the golden arches on her black shirt pocket glowed. Her matching pants had creases you could cut yourself on. How did she make polyester do that? She passed the fry station, lifting a basket out of the oil and silencing the alarm with a slap of her hand. She didn’t even break her stride.

I noticed, with some…


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“Watch out for Annabel, she’s really anal about everything.” I remembered the advice clearly, as Team Leader Annabel strode through the kitchen towards me.

She could have been in one of the company’s commercials. Her uniform fit perfectly. Immaculate in every way, the golden arches on her black shirt pocket glowed. Her matching pants had creases you could cut yourself on. How did she make polyester do that? She passed the fry station, lifting a basket out of the oil and silencing the alarm with a slap of her hand. She didn’t even break her stride.

I noticed, with some…


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“The next act is ready, Mr Morris.”

Penny, the talent agent’s prim and proper secretary handed the clipboard over to her boss.

“Seems to be a family affair,” she whispered.

Mr Morris grunted, looking up from the clipboard as the house lights dimmed.

An elderly gentleman, dressed in magician’s attire marched onto centre stage. He stood peering into the empty old theatre.

“Well, get on with it, man!” Mr Morris grumbled from the font row as the pause became awkward. “You’ve bought your whole family, it says here. What is it you all do? Just another family magic show?”

“Ah…


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I wake next to my family in the ship’s hold. They are all still asleep. My two sisters and brother snuggled next to mother. Grandma has curled up further away in the corner. I sniff the pungent air. It’s stronger than the usual odour of Grandma’s age. My dear sister has wet our bed again.

Silly bitch.

She knows we have to piss elsewhere, or they may find our secret hideaway.

The stench does not dissuade my hornyness though. She will be the one that satisfies me. I stretch, yawn, and then move over and mount her. She cries out…


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Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

WARNING: NECROPHILIA

The leggy blonde’s white dress billowed around her. For a moment her clasped hands held it down, revealing only pale skinny legs. But her fingers loosened, and hands fell limply away to the sides. Unimpeded, the dress flew up and covered her face, offering protection from any embarrassment that full frontal exposure might cause. Below, a dark triangle of pubic hair contrasted starkly with lily-white skin.

“Cut!” Carl shouted from behind the handy cam. He jumped off the steel examination table and stomped on the leaf blower’s power switch. Three cubic meters of air a minute became none…


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LHC (Large Hadron Collider) Control room. Outskirts of Geneva, 13 April 2008 2:37am.

Dr. Katie Adamson suppressed a yawn and leaned forward to silence the warning buzzer on the control board. Likely another mouse tripping a sensor, but she’d have to go check the damn thing. At least it gave her something to do; her backside was going numb. The control room chair didn’t quite accommodate her plump frame.

She saved the latest algorithm she’d created and put down her tablet. At thirty-five she was young for a quantum physicist. But she understood the fundamental structure of matter like no…


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Mister Nibbles brought me another treat in the night. I wish he wouldn’t, but I suppose it’s his way of saying thanks for looking after him. He thinks I need feeding.

At least this time it’s an intact body. Not like that time he dragged just a bottom half up the stairs, leaving a trail of blood across the carpet before depositing it at the foot of my bed. Gross!

I named him Mister Nibbles because he has this cute but annoying habit of nibbling my ear when I’m trying to sleep. He snuggles his face right up under my…


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Prologue: The death of a King.

The demise of King George the Grunter came swiftly. Right after the King himself came. If you’ll forgive the crude correlation. With his royal member buried deep inside the bottom of a junior guardsman, his heart gave up trying to force blood through thickened arteries. It emitted one final, feeble pump, as did the King’s arthritic hips. An already syphilis-ridden brain was thus denied oxygen, and it gave up in solidarity with the long-suffering heart. The corrupt ruler fell forward over the guardsman with a grunt. Dead.

Young Prince Erik peered from behind the…


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It’s one thing to witness a lover’s tryst in the woods. It’s quite another when you’re an old witch, with those days of love, lust and youthful vigour long gone.

Olga would give anything to be young again. To relive those days when a tingling in the loins meant more than a bladder infection. When her faithful black cat wasn’t the only pussy worth stroking.

But alas, the last gentleman caller she received was many winter’s back, and all he wanted was a soothing spell for his rash. …

Davi Mai

Short story writer. Fantasy, sci-fi, transgressive. I lack a filter but try to make stuff fun.

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