She dipped her finger into the pie filling and asked, “Would you like a taste?”
When I fall, I don’t look back. I lay in the dust under your bed and listen to your secrets. When I move, I trip you up in front of your crush.
You’ll never catch me, because I’m just a puff of air.
I’m your worst self. The black abyss of your imagination. Stop feeding me and I’ll stop growing.
She was standing in the hall, dressed in white, trying her hardest not to say, “Boo.”
It was too generic. Too sacred. Too scary.
Instead she wailed and chased him till his heart stopped.
Something always seemed to be floating in the back of Amelia’s mind totally out of reach. She couldn’t remember if it was good, bad or even important. It was there just out of reach. She would scratch the inside of her mouth with her tongue trying hard to regain the thought.
Her lips chapped, so deep in thought, she’d go entire days without eating. Her mind totally consumed by this constant nagging of the thing forgotten.
She would wake up, covered in sweat, but just as soon as she had calmed down from the nightmare, she’d fall back asleep doomed to forget it.
What was it?
She scribbled on notebooks, napkins and the backs of receipts searching for the lost thought.
Months went by, she went through her days in a haze, searching. Fired from her job, she’d spend most days in the library flipping through magazines and reading books she couldn’t remember for the 5th or 6th time.
She wrote down everything before it would disappear.
But nothing jogged the memory loose from her sleep-deprived brain.
She died, malnourished, in her bed. Nearly forgotten just like the thought itself.
Under her mattress they found a letter:
Her refrigerator was empty and Stewart had died 9 months ago. Her firstborn, lost, forever in a car accident that had been shaken from her memory along with her husband, Rodney.
Her ghost, barely there, haunted the halls calling out for a name that you couldn’t really hear.
"I like lying naked in stranger’s beds," she said with a long sigh. She felt drowsy and still aroused, but he was already getting dressed.
He stared at her, sipping her with his eyes.
"Do you do that a lot?" He said pulling his socks on.
"Not as much as I’d like," she said with a wink. It was no use, he had already moved on to his next thought, errand and was in another world. She would not be coaxing him back into bed with her.
She rolled across the bed wishing she was in a field of flowers. She skimmed the bed for her clothes, but instead, covered herself with his sheets.
"Can I just stay here all day?"
But he was already gone.
Kiana wasn’t always a fighter. She used to be a bored teenager that turned into a bored adult. Her duties were nil. She was expected to do nothing and she embraced it. She excelled at nothing.
She’d go outside her mushroom kingdom and sit amongst the flowers and braid crowns from their stems. She would place a crown on each head that passed her way. Everyone was too polite to decline.
Her life was full but very dull.
But she knew nothing but this life. This mushroom kingdom with her flittering parents that never bothered to ask after her.
She didn’t even notice they were gone till her breakfast was late one morning.
"Hello?" she called out. "Is anyone around?"
She had been taught manners that she rarely needed.
Silence was appreciated in the kingdom, but even she knew that something was wrong.
That’s when she heard the stomp. The ground quaked. She held onto a sturdy table as the noise rumbled closer.
"Hello, I’m Sampson," a very loud voice boomed from a window. "I’m here to protect you."
Kiana looked over at the window.
There was a huge reptilian creature out there. Her first instinct was to run, but when she looked into Sampson’s kind eyes, she knew he wasn’t lying.
"What are you?" she asked, holding onto the back of a chair, not quite hiding but most definitely steadying her wobbly legs.
"My kind is no longer of this Planet. We are long gone. I am one of a kind. One of a kind to help you stay alive. Please follow me," he said, not explaining anything.
Sampson stuck his long slender neck into an open window and gestured with this eyes for her to get on.
She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about riding a giant one-of-a-kind. It looked like fun, but the many years of her never exciting life had made her terrified of adventure, even though she longed for it.
He rolled his eyes to show that he was growing impatient with her hesitance, so she took a giant gulp of air and went towards him, feeling his cold, scaly skin under her hands as she clung tightly to him.
"Princess, there’s not enough time to explain, but you are in danger. I’m sorry to say that everyone is dead but you."
"Everyone? Even Mother and Father?"
"Unfortunately, yes. My duty is to take you faraway from here, but the Clan may be anywhere close by, so if you see something suspicious, please let me know."
Right at that moment, a figure cartwheeled out of the bushes, wearing all black. The only visible part of the figure were their menacing eyes. But nearly as soon as she noticed them, Sampson put one big foot on top of the figure and he was no longer.
"Are you okay, Princess?"
"Oh yes, I’m fine. That was swift, Sampson."
"Well, Princess, you must know something about me. I’m here to protect you against their kind. I’m a skilled ninja killer and with me by your side, you’ll never have to worry again."
Kiana embraced Sampson’s neck and realized this was the saddest but most exhilarating day of her life. She could feel her heart pumping, but knew with Sampson by her side, she would be safe. Her old boring life was something of the past and her new life with Sampson would never be empty.
Dave & I decided to write a story based on the prompt to this week’s Fantasy Fiction Podcast.
So without further ado, here’s The Legend of the Club of Fucks:
It was a humid July 4th in the Sacklands. Everyone’s skin glistened with sweat, but despite the boggy weather, everyone sat by the campfire roasting human flesh in celebration of Subjugation Day.
“Did you hear what happened to Flogore?”
“You mean, Mr. Beldring got him too?”
Gen-E was on the verge of tears, she had been mating with Flogore since freshman year of high school, so she felt particularly betrayed.
“What do you think happens to them? They never come back.”
Speck was new to their dwindling group of friends, as well as the Sacklands, so he didn’t know The Legend of the Club of Fucks. Speck was also a menacing Minotaur or else no one would have bothered to answer him.
Gen-E spoke up, “Beldring gets them with The Club. Then he fucks them till they die.” Then she broke into thick green tears and excused herself to the Little Troll’s Room.
What Gen-E means to say is…I guess…I should start from the beginning…”
Glomp was the horniest troll wizard in all of the Sacklands, but even with his magical knowledge, he couldn’t conjure up a partner that would accept his horn- and boil-covered skin. He was just too ugly.
Glomp rarely made visits to town and spent his days and nights inventing a salve that would cure him of his disfigurements. Over time, his horns softened and instead of standing erect and fierce as they had in the past, became much more embarrassing as they now resembled wilted flowers.
Frustrated with his failures, Glomp reached for his magical club made of twinkling man’s heart and unicorn strings and nudged each wilted horn on his body, but instead of reversing the effects of the salve, it turned each deflated horn into an actual small, wrinkly, flaccid penis with gray pubes. No matter how hard he tried, none of the penises ever grew more than half-erect. Uglier than ever, Glomp decided to kill himself.
Many days passed before Glomp’s decaying body was found in the opening of his cave by a teenage troll named Ted, who cared more about finding a radical club than the town’s embarrassment of a wizard. He knew he’d be able to impress Gertilda at the prom with this in his hand. Lady trolls literally can’t resist a guy with a big club.
“Oh, Ted,” Gertilda said, getting on her knees behind the school. She could feel the thump-thump-thump of the music from the gymnasium on the other side. Ted had the mating club ready. He knew clubbing was an essential part of troll mating, but wasn’t exactly sure what to do with it, so he gently tapped her chest.
But where Ted had tapped her, he could see a little opening forming, slowly, the folds blossomed in front of his eyes.
“What did you do to me, Ted?”
“I think it’s supposed to happen,” he grunted, covering up the fact that he had no idea what he was doing at all. Luckily for him, Gertilda had no clue either.
“Here, Ted, let me hit you.” He handed over the club, and she lovingly smacked him in the forehead. Just like when Ted had hit her, something started to grow. A beautiful light green phallus appeared right on his forehead.
Gertilda reached out to feel it and just like that, it grew in her hands.
“Okay, baby, I think I’m ready…lie down.”
And right there in the dusty BogBall Field, Ted fucked Gertilda in her chest pussy with his massive forehead dong, but nearly as soon as he put it in, Gertilda grunted and went limp. His head cock pierced her beating heart, but, too focused on his own sensations, Ted didn’t even notice that his girlfriend had expired. Not long after he started, he felt the build-up and jizzed out his brains. Literally all over his dead girlfriend’s body.
Principal Beldring found them five minutes too late, kicked their lifeless bodies to the side and kept the club as a lesson to show his students that abstinence is the best policy. He also believed in corporal punishment, so when Floo was tardy for the 17th day in a row, he decided to test out his new toy. It was only then that he discovered its magical abilities.
“So how do you like that, Floo?” Mr. Beldring said, repeatedly smacking Floo upside the head and back, mesmerized as the young troll grew tiny dicks all over his body.
Floo would die of blood loss a few days later when he tried to jerk off all of his new penises at once.
“So then what happened?” Speck asked.
“No one knows, but Mr. Beldring has that club displayed in his office. If I was you, I’d recommend not getting out of line if you don’t want those horns of yours turned into a pair of hairy dongs.”
She didn’t always live alone.
She used to have a kingdom. She used to be a princess. Royalty. Beloved. Now she was a warrior. A survivor.
Fighting for her right to party.
"We have to be quiet."
Is the first thing he says to me as he grabs my hand and pulls me inside his apartment.
"My roommate is sleeping."
It wasn’t the scenario I had run through my head 100 times. It wasn’t a sexy rendezvous. It was a reality wake-up call. Why was I here again? Then I look at his face and melt. The twinge between my legs reminding me that he held the power and not the other way around.
He put candles around his bedroom. The twinkling lights make up for everything else.
"This is sweet."
He’s nervous and shrugs his shoulders like it’s the least he could do.
He won’t look me in the eye.
So I offer up, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
"No, I do…but come here…"
I start walking across the room, but he’s in front of me sooner than expected and he’s grabbing my waist pulling me towards him. He kisses me and it’s warm and wet and I’m not sure if it’s good or bad. It’s him, so I just keep kissing back and we fall into a rhythm.
We’re still kissing, but he’s directing us to the bed and when he gets there he removes his shirt. I’m suddenly shy, but I pull off my dress, feeling very naked in front of him despite not being naked at all. Vulnerable, I laugh.
"Sorry," I say.
I push him down and climb on top of him. He’s removing my bra and instead of being shy, I’m excited. I make a show of it. This is why he wants me here after all. Does he want me or the girl on camera?
He’s gentle and the act feels loving instead of sexy and dirty. It’s the kind of sex that makes me want to cry, because after this, I’m going to be alone. I know it won’t happen again. I don’t know if I’m okay with that or not, because despite my best efforts, I like this boy. This man. This more than text on a screen.
I turn to him and and say, “That was nice. Really, really nice.”
He smiles and kisses my cheek-my mouth-my neck and puts his arm across my stomach. He rests his head on my shoulder and his breath turns even. I fall asleep too.
A few hours later, he’s made me dinner and this is more than I could ask for but the mood is chilly.
He’s not being shy. He’s being brave. He’s pushing me away.
"Did you make this?"
"It’s really good. Thanks."
"I should probably drive you back home now."
"Okay," I say, in between slurps of noodles. It’s not lady-like and I don’t care. He seems sad and I try to seem clueless. I don’t think it’s working. I know what’s coming and I’m trying my best to remind him of why I’m here.
The car ride is silent. I look out the window and think about all of the other sad times I’ve driven this same route with some other man.
"I like you, but…"
There’s always a but. What would it be this time? Please spare me!
"Yes?" I say a little too hopefully.
"We can’t…even though…I don’t know."
"What do you want?"
"You already had me. Now what do you want?"
He pulls the car over on the shoulder of a farm road. Just corn for miles. He looks at me and leans over and we’re kissing. We’re kissing like there might be a follow-up, but then he stops.
"I’m going to drive you home and then I’m going to see you tomorrow and the next day and the next day."
"I’d like that."
The hotel was his choice.
Like a game, she removed her clothes and waited for him. Naked under the covers. Naked on the covers. Just stepping out of the bathroom as he turned the key. Caught by surprise. She’d break her compact as it fell to the ground with an exaggerated scream of terror.
She fell asleep waiting for him. She had dreams of him between her legs. Images so vivid that she woke up touching herself.
He wasn’t there. Her thighs still empty.
She poured herself a glass of water, turned on the TV and waited.
He was late. Two hours. Three hours. Four hours.
The next morning she checked out of the hotel alone.
She saw his car in the parking lot, but when she ran to it, she realized it wasn’t his at all. There would be no backseat bingo today.
Her drive home was a miserable one as she recalled the events that brought her here. The late night phone calls. The photo exchange. The dirty emails.
She wasn’t mad at him. She was mad at herself.
She didn’t think twice as her car plunged into the lake and by the time she realized she was drowning, she couldn’t save herself.