Review #18

Finnegan's Wake

Story by James Joyce

Review by Ray

Written by the renown author James Joyce, Finnegan's Wake is a book that lives in infamy. Why? Because it's too good, or rather, too advanced for most people to read. Let's take a look at why sometimes simpler is better.

First, here’s what Wikipedia has to say about this:

Finnegans Wake is a work of comic prose by Irish writer James Joyce that is significant for its experimental style and resulting reputation as one of the most difficult works of fiction in the English language.

Well that’s a challenge if I ever saw one, let’s take a look.

riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.


Let’s try to break this down. Try. It was written in the 1930’s, so riverrun past Eve and Adam’s could mean that the river runs past the home of Eve and Adam, whoever they are. From swerve of shore to bend of bay is likely just a neat visual, nothing to be too concerned over. Then Joyce decided there wasn’t enough Latin in the story, and said something about a convenient or spacious neighborhood, following it up with what might be a statement on economics, saying that things are circulating back to Howth Castle and the surrounding areas. For fuck’s sake, this is like another language. Hell, at times it is another language.

Sir Tristram, violer d’amores, fr’over the short sea, had passen-core rearrived from North Armorica on this side the scraggy isthmus of Europe Minor to wielderfight his penisolate war: nor had topsawyer’s rocks by the stream Oconee exaggerated themselse to Laurens County’s gorgios while they went doublin their mumper all the time: nor avoice from afire bellowsed mishe mishe to tauftauf thuartpeatrick not yet, though venissoon after, had a kidscad buttended a bland old isaac: not yet, though all’s fair in vanessy, were sosie sesthers wroth with twone nathandjoe.

That was a sentence. It looked like a paragraph, but I can assure you, it was a sentence. Allow me to simplify things; something something something heartbreaker, something something something sailing, something something something Irish as fuck.

Rot a peck of pa’s malt had Jhem or Shen brewed by arclight and rory end to the regginbrow was to be seen ringsome on the aquaface.


The fall (bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonner-ronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthur — nuk!)


New plan; this is Maggot Story by Blowfly Girl.

Here is my maggot story. The one I didn't lose, anyway. I wrote this about two weeks after my first experience with maggots, about five years ago.

I have no idea whether or not this is fictional by the way. I like to think so, but nobody seems to know for sure.

I didn't realize people would ask me to repost it so soon! Hope you enjoy it.

I don’t think people wanted you to repost because they enjoyed it.


Sunday was warm and sunny,

Well it is Sunday.


just how I always fantasized it would be when I finally went through with it. I stared walking to the dumpster again, I think about 2pm, and I was really excited and nervous.

Well this is all adding up to be quite the scenario.

I felt butterflies in my tummy, just anticipating what I was about to do.

I already have a vague idea of what she’s about to do, and I can tell you right now that those aren’t butterflies in her stomach.

The dumpster is in the alley behind a restaurant near my house. It gets emptied on Tuesdays, so by Sunday it's pretty stinky and there are flies buzzing around. Which means there are things rotting inside there and that's just perfect for me.

It might be perfect for you Blowfly Girl, but think about the rest of us.

A few times in the past I climbed into that dumpster and masturbated. Nothing too intense.

Phew, for a second I thought this was weird.

Most I'd ever done was take off my pants and hump against the dirty garbage bags. And one time I laid there with my legs spread, watching the flies land on me.

I’ve read a little bit further than this, and trust me; this part is to the rest of the story as 2 Girls 1 Cup is to the Pain Olympics. It’s bad, but it can get worse.

So anyway, I walked down the alley to the dumpster, and as usual I made sure nobody was around, just to be extra careful. You have to go behind a tall wooden fence to even see the dumpster, and the restaurant is closed on Sunday anyway, so I knew I wouldn't be noticed.

But what if that’s when the garbage man comes?

But this time there's no way I want to be disturbed.

You already are disturbed, whether or not people are around has nothing to do with it.

I climbed up and over the side and onto my hands and knees into the mass of plastic garbage bags and other miscellaneous rubbish. The bags felt warm from the sun. The smell in there was extremely foul, much worse than usual, and I knew it was because of my rotting meat.

Well, that and it’s a dumpster. And to clarify, by rotting meat she doesn’t mean her brain.

I sat and tried to get myself to relax for a few minutes. There was no reason to hurry.

In fact, there was no reason to do anything in the dumpster at all.

When I was ready, I calmly took off my sandals, my jeans, and my panties. Both pairs. I was wearing two pairs of tight panties with a bunch of my panty liners in the crotch, which keeps anything in my vagina from coming out when I move around.

Good to know?

But I was going "all the way" this time, so I went ahead and got completely naked. That was a weird feeling, being totally nude inside the dumpster.


It seemed very erotic to me. The sun felt warm on my skin, especially my boobs, which pretty much never see the sun.

That’s a shame, but most boobs can’t see at all.


I took a pair of rubber kitchen gloves out of my pants pocket and put them on. There was no way I could bring myself to actually touch a maggot with my bare hands.

She won’t touch them with her bare hands, but she’ll let them crawl all over her pussy. Spoilers by the way.

Lying with my back against the side of the dumpster, I fingered my pussy. I was really wet already. I knew I would be.

Sitting with my hand resting on a box of Fukitol, I read this story. It was really fucked up already. I knew it would be.

The sensation of the rubber glove against my clit felt unusual, and I kind of liked it. I did that for a little while, just thinking about what I was about to do, while staring at the smaller garbage bag in the far corner of the dumpster where I'd left it yesterday. I still felt the butterflies in my tummy.

If by butterflies you mean blowflies, then yes.

I kept thinking to myself that I can't wimp out, that I had to go through with this.

You can wimp out, you don’t have to do it. I’ll forgive you for ending it now and having written a story about essentially nothing.

I wished for a moment that someone else was there to force me to do it, but decided that it was somehow much more sick and depraved to do it to myself willingly. And I thought, yeah, that's me. That's what I want. I deserve this. And so I knew it was time to do it

I am actually much more curious about what led to these actions than the actions themselves. Maybe that’s the writer in me, maybe it’s just the part of me that doesn’t want this to happen.

I got back on my hands and knees and crawled to the other side of the dumpster.

Just how big is this dumpster?

I sat down next to my garbage bag, gently picked it up and placed it in front of me. The terrible smell was already stronger. Carefully, I tore the bag open. And there they were. There had to be thousands of maggots, kind of beige-yellow with little black spots on them,

Yup, we know what maggots look like, thanks though.

all writhing in a large mass. I couldn't even see the rotting meat underneath them.

That’s a lot of maggots.

Dozens more maggots clung to the inside of the black plastic, which was coated with a thick light-brown slime. It was such a repulsive sight I thought I was going to throw up right there. But I didn't. I took a few minutes to get control of myself, fingering my clit

If you’re fingering your clit you have a serious medical issue.

while staring at the maggots, trying to work up the courage to continue.

Look, at this point either do it or don’t.

I scooped up some of the slime on my gloved finger and brought it to my nose. I knew what it was from the reading I'd done before. It was digestive juices from the maggots, full of bacteria.


And it smelled just horrible. I thought to myself, that's what I'm going to smell like.

Well what are the odds that she smelled like roses beforehand?

That's the stench that's going to come from my vagina.


I want that, I thought, spreading my legs wide apart. I dragged my slimy finger between my pussy lips. My clit felt like a hard little pebble beneath the slime.


I didn't want to cum right then, though, and I was still right on the edge of gagging, too.


But I knew there was no turning back now, so I let my fingers lightly touch the top of the maggot mass. The maggots felt like nothing I'd experienced before. They seemed to have such energy, totally different from picking up an earthworm or something.

I’ve never had much of an interest in touching maggots, so I’ll take her word for it.

And they felt so alive.

Hm, maybe that’s because they are.

I was fascinated and nauseated at the same time. Sinking my fingers into the mass, I felt the solid meat beneath. Gently breaking it apart, I could see that the meat had turned gray except for the very center which was still pink, and that the maggots had penetrated into it but not too deeply yet. There was still plenty of food for my filthy little babies.


I broke off a small chunk of meat that was covered on one side with maggots and held it for a moment while I fought back another urge to vomit. It was finally time, I thought. I leaned forward, and holding my pussy lips apart with one hand, I gritted my teeth and pushed the maggot-covered chunk of meat into my vagina.


And then, totally without expecting it, I had an orgasm.

Without expecting it? You just said you were about to cum.

A quick, sharp one that only made me want more.

That’s not an orgasm, that’s nausea. If that’s an orgasm then long expired milk is sexy as fuck.

And more was coming. I broke off another small chunk of meat, along with another part of the maggot mass and pushed it inside me.

I want to say I hope it’s not her vagina again, but the alternatives are few and not much better.

This one had more maggots on it, and I stopped for a moment to see if I could feel them inside me. I wasn't sure I could, but it didn't matter. I wanted them all. I needed to take them all inside me.

People have their kinks, that’s not news to me. What’s unfortunate however, is when said kinks are dangerously unhealthy, be it to themself or those around them.

With that thought, I went sort of wild. I started pushing bigger chunks of meat and maggots, and even handfuls of just maggots into me, over and over.


I was practically hyperventilating, too.

Yeah bitch, you probably are hyperventilating. But it’s not your body telling you, “Hey, this feels great, and it’s probably great for me. Keep at it!” More likely it’s your body saying,


Fuck this, I need someone else to share the torture. Lt. Fluff get in here!

What is it?

The Maggot Story, infamous among reddit. Guess what it’s about.

My Little Pony….


But way to find one of the few ways to make it worse.

I wasn't thinking at all about the noise I must have been making. But now I could definitely feel the maggots squirming inside my vagina.


Yeah, she’s been doing that for a while now.

 Just the idea of it made me cum again.

Finally, once I had crammed all of the rotten meat, and all of the maggots I could inside me, I felt so filthy, so disgusting, like I'd turned myself into some low, depraved sort of beast.

Maybe it’s because you’ve turned yourself into some low, depraved sort of beast.

And that made me so incredibly hot, together with the constant movement of the maggots inside me. But it was time to go. Holding my hand over my crotch, I slowly crawled back to my clothes and managed to get dressed again without anything coming out.

So she’s just leaving them in there? I see nothing that could go wrong.

I put the gloves back into my pocket and climbed out of the dumpster. And right then I could hold back the revulsion of what I'd just done no longer. Holding myself up against the side of the dumpster, I threw up. Ever vomited while you were horny?

No, how ‘bout you Ray?

I’d rather not talk about it.

 It's weird.

Can confirm.

Walking home down the alley, I felt like I was in a daze. I kept asking myself how I could have done this to myself, but then asking why I'd waited so long. I had to walk slowly to make sure nothing got squeezed out of my vagina,

Wait, so maggots are still in her vagina?


Not only that, but she’s making an effort to keep them there.

I’d tell her to go to a therapist, but I’m afraid of what the therapist would do to himself.

but also to keep from cumming again. I found myself amazed at the whole thing, that I'd stuffed the most intimate part of myself with these things that were too disgusting to even touch without gloves.

I’d think the most intimate part of yourself is the mind, but that’s not a bad second. Either way, I would recommend roughly zero maggots.

And that I was totally getting off on it.

Once I was home, I locked myself in my bedroom, took off my clothes, except for my double-panties, and got into bed. I closed my eyes and just let myself feel the maggots squirming inside me.


 For a while I tried to watch TV, but I could really pay attention to it.

Gee, I wonder why?

The maggots were too wonderfully distracting. I skipped dinner.

Good call, lack of nutrition goes well with disease ridden maggots.

Later on, when I really had to pee, I did it by taking down my panties and holding my hand over my crotch, wearing the rubber gloves, of course.

Of course, without the gloves this would be utterly ridiculous.

The next morning I called off of work after being awake most of the night.

Going to work with maggots up your ass wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do.

I’m just amazed she’s employed.

 I mainly stayed naked in my bed all day masturbating, barely getting up for anything. I wanted to do nothing but let my nauseating little babies grow inside my pussy. Pretty early, though, I realized the smell was getting really horrible.


I opened the window. I also wet a bath towel and stuffed it under my bedroom door. I didn't want my parents to get suspicious.

“They would like totally ground me if they found I did this.”

A little later on I realized that I didn't need the panties to hold the maggots and the meat inside me. The mass pretty much stayed in place as long as I laid kind of still. I thought hey, I guess that means I'm infested, which made me cum again. I was always right on the edge of orgasm, and it didn't take much to go over the edge. I also noticed that the maggots seemed to be more active if I kept my legs apart and realized that they probably needed to breathe.

Maggot are living, breathing creatures too.

 So that's how I stayed a lot of the time. I did get up and read my email and posted an update on my web page but I couldn't seem to think clearly enough to write much.

Were the maggots still in her when she wrote this? Because it might explain a thing or two.

At this point I don’t care, all my Fukitol deposits ran out.

Then I had to pee again, but I just didn't want to get up.

That’s because you’re dying.

So I just peed in the bed. It made me cum. I just wanted to keep feeling the maggots moving. And they were. They seemed even stronger, in anything. I was totally in heaven with it. I didn't eat at all, either.

I heard my parents come home from work. During the evening my mom said hello through the door and wondered why I was staying in my room like a hermit.

“You wouldn’t understand mom!”

I said I was reading a novel all the way through at once, which I actually do sometimes.

Oh, she reads? Well now this character is totally relatable.

She left me alone. I hoped she didn't smell anything. I surfed the Web for a while that night and looked at porn.

What… what kind of porn is she watching?

I came a few more times. I decided to go ahead and take a s*** in my bed,

Censorship? If you’re going to censor anything, censor the plot.

Censor everything while you’re at it.

right where I was. That just made me more turned on and I ended up smearing some of my s*** over my thighs and my pussy and cumming again.

By this point, I don’t think a wet towel by the door would stop the smell from leaking out.

 I noticed that the maggots started coming out a bit. Maybe they liked the s***. A couple tmes one would creep up on my belly. I'd just flick it back down between my legs.

I was getting tired at that point. It really was time to sleep and my vagina was throbbing and kind of sore from all of the attention.

Attention, infection, what’s the difference?

But I was most worried about making sure my maggots could breathe while I was sleeping. Somehow, I managed to find the energy to place a chair on either side of my bed and use sheets to tie my ankles to them. That would keep my legs apart during the night. I pulled the blankets over myself and dozed off lying in my piss and s***.


Stay strong Ray, I know you can do this.

I know, but Finnegan’s Wake is looking great right about now.

For the most part I slept through the night, but I kept waking up sweating, with my vagina throbbing worse. I knew I was getting a bad infection from this, but I didn't care.

You deserve to die now.

 I was not thinking right. I could also feel maggots crawling all over me. I guess I decided I liked that and I'd play with my clit until I came again.

How many times is she gonna orgasm in this story!?

 I don't know if I realized at the time that I wasn't wearing the rubber gloves anymore. I'd fall back to sleep and wake up again later with little phrases running through my head. Other girls have babies but I give birth to decay and filth, I'd keep thinking to myself.

Though I do think there are a few too many people in the world, I don’t think this is the way to fix it. I appreciate the effort, but believe it or not you don’t have to give birth at all. Be it human or maggot, Earth doesn’t need Blowfly Girl Reincarnate running a muck.

Or I'd say I'm probably ruining my womb and I don't care, I want to be ruined. I know I must have been hallucinating from the infection. I was hoping the maggots had given up on the rotten meat and were eating my vagina instead.

You are now officially the bottom of the food chain.


I don’t mean to bring logic into this, but maggots don’t actual eat living flesh. That either means the story is flawed or the protagonists has, in part, died.

So we’re reading necrophia now?

That all depends on where you draw the line.

 My fingers were buried inside my vagina, with my fingertips against part of the meat. Whenever I pressed on it, the maggots would squirm faster and I'd climax again. I could do it over and over and keep cumming.

Finally it was Tuesday morning and sunlight made me wake up.

The sunlight woke her up. Because the hunger and the maggots were so relaxing.

As relaxing as a fucking pillow.

I knew I was really, really sick at that point.

Let’s be honest Blowfly Girl, you were sick long before you started shoving maggots into yourself.

I felt weak and dizzy, I knew I had a fever, and now my whole lower belly was sore and throbbing. Despite all that I was still horny and I was still right on the edge of cumming. And then for some reason, all I wanted to do was see my maggots.

Are they your children now?

They’re as close to children as she’ll ever get.

I pulled the blankets aside and saw that I really did have maggots crawling all over my body.


I was so whacked out I loved it. But I also saw that I had a rash spreading over my tummy and my thighs, and I was soaked with sweat. And then suddenly I needed to see what it looked like between my legs. I sat up a little, picked up the hand mirror I have on the table next to my bed, and held it between my thighs.

My pussy was totally gaped wide open. I'd never seen it like that before. It reminded me of a mouth in a sick, gagging expression.

I’m making a sick, gagging expression right now.

 My inner lips were swollen and dark purple, almost black, while my outer lips were cherry red and I was losing a layer of dead skin, like a sunburn.


A stream of the light brown slime was oozing from inside my vagina and down my butt crack onto the s***ty mattress. Although I could still feel a large mass of maggots and rotten meat inside me, there were maggots everywhere between my legs. Hundreds of them.

And then I saw my fingers on my pussy.

Did she not know they were there before?

She’s probably having an out of body experience, sometimes it happens before you die.

They plunged deep into my vagina and dragged out a wad of slime and maggots, which I pressed hard against my clit.


I remember having a huge orgasm right then, and I must have passed out. I think I was sobbing too, but I'm not sure.

That's all I remember until I woke up in the hospital.

So Lt. Fluff, I presume you’re off to write your My Little Pony maggot fanfiction?

I’m gonna let Tara or Raven do that, I on the other hand, I am working on something BIGGER!

Are we gonna have to Retribute it sometime in the near future?

Maybe, oh and next time please warn me before dragging me into a review.

No promises.