Yay, Halloween story time again! (The "Halloween Story Time" theme song plays, screaming kids go apeshit, there's a lot of crazed horn-honking for some reason).
This story's kinda I-dunno. There's things I like about it, things I know are in the way but I can't seem to make myself kill-my-darlings about because I'm a stubborn and angry fanatic, and things that I'm not sure will work or not. YOU be the judge! You'll either love it, or you'll hate it, or you'll think it's okay. If you think I'm goofy at the end of it, then, perhaps, I'm goofy. Not my favorite thing I ever wrote, but you can only do so much revising before it just turns into picking-at-it-and-then-it'll-get-infected, so, here it goes. In any case, it should be entertaining enough, with that smartass girl in it.
And, as always, there's a LOT of this kind of thing on the blog, and some's better, so please browse heavily and remember that constructive feedback is extremely welcome -- it's the only payment any of us get for this stuff, so don't be shy. Stay tuned to this space, because KickerOfElves may have another story up by the end of the month. If I un-lazy myself enough, I may revise one I've got, too.
Meantimes, here's a handy list o' further adventures in literary buttkickin', all free of charge.
KickerOfElves:
Profbolt:
My stuff:
And little descriptions of actual nightmares I’ve had===============
PLAYMATE OF THE MONTH
When
they entered his apartment and he got his first look at Heidi in true light
instead of the stylishly-divey dimness of Ye Olde Waterin’ Hole, Pete had to choke
back an “oh my god.” She was even better
than he’d thought, moving straight from hottie to the
maybe-the-prettiest-girl-I’ve-ever-seen category. Already making notes in his head about how
he wanted to describe her when he bragged about this on his YouTube channel, he
started conniving means to get trophy pics.
No one would ever believe him otherwise; she was a proof-needed girl.
Heidi
was tall, slim, almost spindly, but with just a magnificent ass. Underperforming a bit in the tit department,
yes, but that face, oh dear god that face could make him forgive anything. Semi-hippie-girl hair hung straight to the
bottom of her ribcage, brown, but the bright light of his apartment was picking
out flows of honey in the midst. Her
eyes were green but there were drops of honey there, too, splashes of molten
gold on jade. Her nose was small, cutely
just-enough-pugged, and she had a soft pink gently-triangular mouth that spread
into a drowsy smile around perfect teeth.
“Wow, I like your apartment. So
tidy!” she said. Her voice had even more honey in it, with a
slight raspy purr that tickled inside his head, warm and rich and thickly sweet.
Goddamn
hot-hot-HOT.
“I
try to keep it that way, but it’s a battle,” Pete said, one of the first
non-lies he’d spoken tonight. He had a
natural inclination to be lazy and messy but one of his YouTube gurus had a big
“clean your room” law for young men, and Pete was trying to follow the rules of
success to the letter. His father – a
weak man who his mom was always chasing off -- hadn’t taught him much, so when
he entered his twenties he’d started working hard at playing catch-up from
fathers-of-choice he’d hunted down. The
conquest of Heidi was to be part of his revised manhood.
He
led her into his kitchen, poured a bowl full of pretzel sticks and slid it
across the counter toward her, then took out the good brandy snifters he’d
special-ordered. Gold-rimmed. A cultured man has cultured things, Heidi
would think.
“My
apartment’s such a mess, I’m such a slob,” Heidi said, slipping onto a stool
and folding those crazy long legs one over the other. The friction of fishnetted leg-on-leg yanked
at something in his chest, made him ache.
My god, my god, he wanted that friction around his waist, his neck, it
didn’t matter.
“I
doubt that. You don’t look like any kind
of slob,” he said, taking out a bottle of brandy he really couldn’t
afford. “Like, not at all, actually.”
“I
am, though. You should see me eat. I need two bibs, one for the back.” She rolled those eyes, spread a lazy smile, and poked a lucky
pretzel stick into it. He uncapped the
brandy and she pushed her snifter away.
“None for me, thanks. You already
got me to your apartment, dude, no sense wasting that high-dollar poonshine on
me.”
Pete
laughed, shocked at the bluntness of her terminology. Pushing the glass away had looked like some
kind of chess move he wasn’t sure how to counter. “I’d hardly consider it wasted,” he said.
She
gave him another smirky smile and shrugged, then nibbled another pretzel.
“Hey,
what’s your last name again?” Pete
asked, pouring himself some brandy. “I
didn’t catch it back at that noisy club.”
“Maybe
‘cuz I didn’t throw it,” she said. “But
it’s Stankbox.”
Pete
blurted a laugh, and Heidi cinched her eyes at him and pouted her lips,
teasingly indignant.
“Are
you laughing at my name and heritage, sir?
Don’t force me to challenge you to a duel. Or a triple, if there’s time.” She raised an eyebrow, squinted one eye.
“You’re
kidding, right? Jesus Christ! Nobody’s named Stankbox,” he laughed. He was a little nervous, realizing Heidi was
weirder than he’d been trained to handle.
Back at the club she’d seemed giggle-dumb and passive, and now this?
“Except
for Mortimer Stankbox, poor lonesome bastard that he was,” Heidi said, shaking
a pretzel stick at him. “Yes, dear lad,
I am kidding. You see, not only am I
quite pretty, I am hi-larry-yuzzzz.” She made a show of biting the pretzel in
what he found to be a suggestive manner.
“So,
what’s your last name for real?” he laughed.
“My
last name for real doesn’t matter at this point in time,” she sighed. “If things go well and there’s fun-fun-fun,
then we’ll worry about such things. For
the record, until and unless I end up liking you, your name’s Peter
Whogivesashit. And if it goes real bad,
we’ll even lose the Peter after a week.
Your name, I mean, not your peter-peter.
Heaven forbid.” She looked at his reaction, then
laughed. “Settle down, I’m not a psycho
or anything. I am a little awful,
though, I guess. Anyway, I bet that was
a rough name to grow up with, boys being how they are. With only your friend Dick giving you any
peace.” She flashed her eyes and
smirked.
Pete
forced himself to laugh but he didn’t like this much. Heidi was too challenging and was wresting
control of the situation from him, and that was not part of his adopted
style. He considered asserting himself
a bit but that might not work on Heidi, who had far too much self-confidence
for his taste. If she walked out he’d have to jerk off about her and that’d be
humiliating, plus he’d get no video brag out of it, at least not a truthful
one. He didn’t have much experience
with this but supposed some girls were more work than others. He’d have to play it cooler than he felt.
“Is
Heidi your real name, at least?”
He
had to take a laugh for an answer.
“Well, anyway, I like a direct girl,” he lied,
then sipped the brandy. It didn’t taste
a hundred dollars better than the kind he’d previously bought. Most of the cost was in the reputation, he
supposed. He wished she’d at least try
some, perhaps be impressed, help him out.
“You’ll
love me, then,” she said, folding her hands and resting her chin on them,
looking hard at him with crinkle in the corner of her eyes. “My filter is buh-roke! I’m direct as a
cruise missile, baby.” She drew an arc
in the air with her hand and whistled then boomed. “Want an example?”
He
half-laughed. “I don’t know, do I?”
“Take
a risk,” she whispered. “Win a prize.”
“A’ight. Shoot me.”
“Okay,”
Heidi said, breathed deep, smiled, and said, “You think girls don’t watch those
pick-up artist videos, don’t you?”
A
chill went through him. He’d been clumsy
and now he was caught. And she was,
indeed, direct. Would she be kind enough
to let him weasel out? Probably
not. He wasn’t sure how to counter this.
“Huh?
What do you mean?”
She
rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t
blow it by lying after I gotcha! I’m
here, right? Even though I knew? That means I don’t caaarre. But if you treat
me like I’m dumb, I might get insulted and pack up my pussy and go home.”
“Well,
don’t do that,” he said, leading her back into the living room, hoping a change
of venue might turn things. He was
getting weirded out by the whole thing, shocked by what she was saying,
confused. There’d been a plan for this
and it had been torpedoed.
“Yeah,
that’d suck, huh?” Heidi grabbed the
pretzel bowl and threw herself onto the couch and laughed at him, which he really didn’t like, but he had to play
this right. Vulnerability was a bad move
with the female, he’d been told, but maybe he could do some kind of tai chi,
salvage this lay.
“Okay,
I guess I did watch a few, just for some help, y’know. Is it really that obvious?”
She
widened her eyes and nodded with tight-lipped teasing grimness. “I could practically see you checking off the
boxes in your head, dude-bro.
This-move-builds-on-that-move-and-part-A-intersects-with-part-B-and-then-pussy!
Flow chart!”
“Well,
damn,” he laughed. His face felt hot and
he hoped he wasn’t blushing.
“Don’t
feel bad. I thought it was cute. I mean, I’m here, right? I don’t mind game players. I like playing, too. I especially like being a prize. But I just don’t want you thinking I’m stupid.
Don’t think you’re fooling me
into what I want to do anyway.”
“Oh,
I don’t think you’re stupid,” he said.
“If I ever did, I don’t anymore.”
“Good
boy,” she purred. There was a polished
wooden box on the end table and she lifted the lid and looked in. “Humidor.
You smoke cigars?”
He
decided to keep trying honesty as a tactic, since he was already caught
anyway. “Not really. But I bought all the stuff before I found
that out. Please have one if you like?”
She
poked out her tongue and made a face. “Not
hardly. Cigars taste like late-stage
tuberculosis. So, did you think you
should be into cigars ‘cuz all those big-shot manly-mans on YouTube are always
puffing ‘em so smugly?”
“Well,
something like that, I guess.” Pete was
getting a little angry – and a little afraid – at being figured out, but he was
also intrigued, and he really wanted
to fuck her. If this was a contest, he
could still win by being used-in-return.
Heidi might be wise but also seemed to be down with it, no bitchy
feminist.
“And
you aspire to smugness, too. It’s
okay. Everybody’s trying to find their
way. Just…” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and dug
at the corner of her mouth with a finger, thinking, then stared at him
intently. “Just don’t put so much stock
in what some buttholes on YouTube say about things. They don’t have magic knowledge, you
know. Anybody can put up those videos,
they don’t know any more than you do, most of the time. They just present bullshit confidently,
convince you you’re incomplete, then sell you the spare parts so they can have little
copies of themselves around. That way
they don’t have to be the only dorky asshole. Nobody leads anyone else for their benefit, you know, it’s always the
head of the snake that gets all the glory.
And they do it all for ‘likes.’
Likes. Which is already pitiful
dog-showing-its-belly business.”
“You
could be onto something there,” he said, fighting the impulse to defend his
instructors’ honor, but afraid he’d lose and
screw up his chance to get laid.
“Like
that mig-tow shit. Em-gee-tee-oh-dubya,
‘Men Going Their Own Way.’ Oh no! What’ll us girls do?” She stared at him with mock horror that
melted into a grin. “You realize that’s
basically being gay without committing to the sex-with-other-guys part, yeah? Those dudes want all their real relationships
to be with other men, while just using us dumb girls for sex… and even that’s
mostly just so they can tell other men they did it. Sex with another guy, once removed. The girl’s just a conduit and the red pill’s
just another drug that supplies a different set of illusions. Mig-tow might just be ‘muh-buh’ – Men Being
Herded. And that’s about the dumbest
noise in the world, ‘muh-buh.’ You can
barely say it without drooling. ‘Muh-buuuhhhh.’ Sound of a sheep going onto a hook.” She giggled, watching his reactions intently,
obviously trying to trigger him.
He
shrugged, not knowing what to say. She
knew too much about him without even knowing him, and it made him nervous. Mostly he resented it. He wanted to be mysterious, hard to figure
out, and she’d taken his ego and pantsed it.
Now he just wanted it not to get worse.
Heidi
laughed. “You’re getting mad. You want to fuck, not get a lecture, huh?”
“Well…” He shrugged and smiled. Anger wrestled desire, lost.
“Maybe
if I recorded it and uploaded it you’d sit through it. Maybe if I intercut shots of Joe Rogan
looking like a befuddled dope.” She made
a Joe Rogan face that was so accurate he had to laugh despite his annoyance,
then she nibbled another pretzel. “It’s
okay, sweetie. It’s even okay that
you’re doing your lifting wrong and it’s giving you titties.” She hooked thumbs under her own and gave them
a peepshow jiggle.
“Hey
now…” he said, laughing. His face burned
again.
She
smiled. “Sorry, I go too far and get
bitchy. It’s why men start going their
own way in the first place, isn’t it?
Bitchy girls. I’m sorry. I’m just teasin’. Don’t worry, I’ll make putting up with me
worth it.”
“How? You gonna paint my house?” He smiled so she’d think he was teasing too.
“Oooo-hoo,
was I that bad? I’m not that
mean, am I?”
“Nah,
I’m just playing. Two can, you know.”
“Good! I like
playing!” Heidi sat up, scratching
herself. He realized she’d been doing
that a lot. That was a sign of nerves,
he thought. The knowledge that maybe she
wasn’t as cool as she was playing it relaxed him a bit. “I have a game I think you’ll like. You want to play?”
“Is
it going to end up with us in bed?”
She
laughed. “Absolutely! That is
what I’m here for, even though I’m being difficult about it. I’m not stupid, even though I’m cute enough
to be. I just want a little respect,
y’know?”
“You
have that,” he said. “Shot my game right
down, but I still like you.”
“You
have to,” Heidi said, rolling her
eyes and shrugging. “I am adorable!”
She hugged herself, digging at her back.
“Yeah,
I’m kinda picking up on that,” he said.
She made him nervous, but it was a delicious kind of nervous. It was out of control but still seemed to be
headed in the direction he’d planned.
“So. What I want to play is hide-and-seek,” she
said, rubbing her legs, making him crazy.
“Isn’t
that kind of a kid’s game?”
“Not
the way Heidi F. Stankbox plays it!” She
threw her arms up in a cheerleader pose.
“Heidi-seek. You’ll love it,
promise. Humor me!”
“This
isn’t a trick where you’ll run off and leave me looking stupid, is it?”
Heidi
pouted and held up three scout’s-honor fingers with one hand while drawing an X
on her chest with the other. She raised an eyebrow and drew two more X's, then winked.
“Okay,
I think you’re worth a gamble.”
Heidi
got up and ran a finger under his jaw, tilted his chin up, and leaned in almost
close enough to kiss him. “Oh, I am,” she whispered. He got a good look at the honey swimming in
those eyes and the purr in her voice sent a twinge to his groin. She had a few light honey-colored freckles,
and her scent was yet more honey, cocktailed with a mad swirl of supernova
pheromones. If it was perfume whoever
invented it ought to be a goddamned billionaire. God god god, hot hot hot, afuckingtomic. He was deliciously intimidated, and a little
dazed.
“I’m
going to call you Honey,” he said.
“You
can call me anything except tomorrow if you’re no good tonight.” She flashed a smile that was a little
crazy. “Now gimme your shirt.”
“Why?”
he laughed.
“So
I can see them jugs, Ah-nuld! No,
no. Because you’d look even sillier with
your underpants tied around your head, goofus.
We need a blindfold.”
“What
about I just promise to keep my eyes shut?”
She
sighed. “Boys who play pick-up artist
games don’t get to use the honor system.
If you cheat, deal’s off. If you
don’t cheat…” She leaned in and
whispered, “…we fuck like da bunnies!”
“God
damn,” he laughed, unbuttoning his shirt.
“You are off the hook!”
Heidi
put one hand on her outthrust hip and examined the nails of the other. “I get more shirts off of boys with that
line.”
“Yeah,
I bet,” he laughed.
“Works
way better than my old approach, which was ‘gimme your shirt or I’m gonna
fart!’”
He
laughed hard. “You are a trip, Heidi
Whateveryourdamnnameis.”
“Yup. Trippy-trip-trip. Said the Billy Goat Gruff. Or was that the troll? Did he eat the goats? I would’ve.
Mmm, goats.”
He
slipped the shirt off and tossed it to her.
“Think you’re so bad, don’tcha?”
“Only
if you ain’t got no kryptonite, son.
Now, face the wall. Time to play
Heidi-seek.” She twirled the shirt,
making a long thick strip of it, biting her lip. Feeling silly, Peter faced the wall and
Heidi slipped behind him and put the shirt over his eyes, then knotted and
cinched it, too hard. “Now count out
loud to six hundred.”
“Six hundred?!”
“I
don’t know your apartment! I need time
to find a good place. I don’t half-ass
it when I play hide and seek, dude. I
whole-ass it.”
“It’s
an apartment, though, not Nebraska!
Jesus, six hundred!”
“Six
hundred. Out loud, so I know you aren’t
cheating. It’ll be worth it. C’mon, trust the pretty girl you never saw
before who won’t tell you her last name.”
He
laughed. “You’re making this sound
really attractive, and like a totally smart thing for me to do.”
Her
voice whispered in his ear. “Like da bunnies. Oh, fink uff da
bun-NEEEEZZZZZ, Pee-tor!”
He
breathed deep of her scent, held it in like a toke, reluctantly let it out. “I
repeat, you are a trip, Heidi.”
“Oh,
darlin’, you just have no idea. I am a
black-ice psychedelic nightmare. But you
gotsta know, huh? Huh? Don’tcha huh?”
Pete
sighed. “God, I am an idiot.”
“Your
dick is an idiot, and you’re
listening to it. Because it’s being so loud right now. I handed the lil’ fella a megaphone. He’s hollerin’ ‘C’mon, Pete, let’s go!’ How you gonna have any fun if you’re smart
all your life? This will be fun, I swear to god.”
“You
do, huh?”
“Yep. I bet you actually end up liking me.”
“Okay
then, if you swear to God.”
“Ha! Next time you should check that the girl’s
not an atheist.”
Pete
shook his head and laughed. “If I hear
the door to the apartment open, deal’s off.”
“I
wouldn’t do that to you, sweetie. I
play weird but I play straight. Besides,
I’d be cheating myself of something I really want. Now, one, two…”
“Okay,
three, four…” he said. Heidi giggled,
clapped, and scampered off somewhere in the house.
Pete
started feeling really stupid well before two hundred but he kept thinking of
those legs rubbing on each other when she sat, and her scent, and he kept
calling out numbers. He could hear her
moving around the house, giggling. He
wondered if she were trashing the place and escaping through a window. If she wasn’t so goddamned motherfucking hot
he’d never put up with even half of this.
He was going to leave a lot of this out when he told it to his camera
for YouTube. He considered himself an
alpha male but sitting with a shirt tied around his head counting for pussy was
decidedly beta-cuck bullshit. If he got
to fuck her he’d be more than redeemed, though, so he kept counting. Three hundred, three-fifty, four. He’d never get there.
But
he did. “Six hundred! Okay, ready or not, here we both come!” he said, and
pulled the shirt off his face and turned around.
One
of Heidi’s black pumps was hanging from his ceiling fan pull-chain, the spike
heel hooked through the pull-ring.
Another
shoe was on the stairs. A fishnet hose
draped the bannister.
He
smiled, heading up the stairs, finding her blouse at the top of them.
He
peeked into another room, found her flirty little skirt. He hadn’t realized how light the thing was,
hardly more than a scarf. He imagined
that ass, unskirted. He gave the room a
quick search. No Heidi, but there was a
little black lace bra behind the door.
“Okay,
well played,” he laughed. “I really want to find you now!”
Further
down the hall, black silk panties, trimmed in lace, high-cut like Victoria’s
best-kept secret, not much bigger than a candy wrapper. “God damn, girl,” he breathed. The other fishnet stocking draped the
bedroom’s doorknob. “You aren’t good at
hiding, leaving a trail like this. It’s
like you want to be found.”
In
the bedroom, impossibly, he found one more article. At first he thought it was some kind of
nightgown, maybe a slip, an ivory-white gossamer thing. He picked it up and long strands of brown
hair, honey where the light swam through it, rained down from it.
“What
the hell? What is this?” he gasped. It was impossible, but he knew exactly what
it was.
Heidi’s skin. No longer beautiful, shed like a husk, split
up the back and shucked.
He’d
wanted to touch that skin all night and now he tossed it away with a sickened
squeak.
Numb
shock overwhelmed him and shut him down.
“They
never look at the ceiling.”
Heidi’s
voice came from behind and above and was full of giggles. There was a chitinous skritch of something
strange moving, and her voice, with all the honey leached out of it and
replaced by buzz rasped, “Playtime!” And then a thunderous whir of alien wings as
the Heidi thing swept down onto him, raging with lust.
She
ate his eyes before he even got a good look at what she’d become, and he was
soon grateful since it spared him having to watch the rest of what she did.
THE END
(C) Copyright 2018 by me so don't be a thievin' asshole
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