The bulky, express mail package waited outside Bee's front door. "Always thinking ahead," Bee muttered, fumbling his keys into the lock. Plastic grocery bags bulging with boxes of gelatin dangled from his left thumb. He pitched the bags through the door and made a grab for the package, but a sharp spark of pain from his wrist floored him. Too heavy. He kicked the box into his apartment, shuffled in on his knees, and bumped the door closed with his butt.
Bee found the box cutter in the kitchen. A green water stain spread over the ceiling but nothing leaked through like it did in the bedroom. Bee knelt over the package and carved it up with the box cutter, spilling Styrofoam peanuts across the floor. A stainless steel, sixteen gauge, sixty quart mixing bowl rolled out of the wreckage. "I'm such a badass eBay sniper," Bee said.
Bee piled the Jell-O boxes onto the kitchen table before pinning the cauldron between his forearms. "Brilliant, grasshopper," he said and brought the bowl crashing down onto the stove. "Okay, let's see. I've got about 30 packets. One packet needs, what," Bee pondered, squinting at the instructions on the back of a Jell-O box, "one cup of boiling water, then one cup of cold water. That's sixty cups…aw, fuck, only 15 quarts? I spent four hundred bucks on this damn thing!" He punched the mixing bowl and promptly passed out from the pain, whacking his face against the metal rim on the way down.
A quarter hour later, Bee, his splint reset and a cold compress tied over his blackened left eye with an ace bandage, poured almost eight quarts of tap water into the mixing bowl. He cranked a dial on the stove past 10 to HI. The coils under the bowl reddened with heat. "Oh, Christ, this is going to take forever." I could add salt to speed things up, he thought, but salty cherry? What kind of honey nymph would that make? Maybe I'd wind up with a dick girl like that freak at SRU. Too risky. Stick to cherry. Lots and lots of cherry.
Opening all thirty boxes and emptying their packets into a measuring cup proved to be a long nightmare of sharp pain and clumsy failure. His one good eye blurred with tears as he relieved the last few boxes of their contents. All of this is your damn fault, Dee. Well, screw you. Fuck you.
The water boiled. The powdered gelatin went in. Bee stirred, watching the clock for two minutes, before adding another eight quarts of tap water. Better use a double dose of nanomek, just in case I screwed the proportions up. He tipped a few teaspoons of nanomek from the SRU tin into the cauldron. Is that really a double dose? He checked the instructions on the bottom of the tin. Yes it is. He shook the tin. Jesus, there's so much left, I could make dozens more. And Dee gave it all up for that pushy green bitch? What an idiot.
Bee pulled out all the shelving and threw out half the food in the fridge just to make the mixing bowl fit. He set the refrigerating unit to maximum before slumping at the kitchen table, listening to the clock tick. It's ten o'clock already and I haven't slept more than a few hours in the past three days. But it's all over. In four hours I'll have my Cherry. I did it. I beat Dee…
A clattering racket startled Bee awake. Empty boxes of Jell-O tumbled off the kitchen table as he sat back. The cold compress fell away but the eye beneath was swollen shut, giving him a two dimensional view of the world and halving his peripheral vision. His one good eye glanced up. Twelve o'clock already? Christ, I thought I just closed my eyes for a second. After one more loud bang, the refrigerator door swung open. Holy shit. Bee stood. It's time. It's finally my time.
A slender, cherry-red foot slid toward the floor beneath the refrigerator door but hesitated an inch above the linoleum tile. Toes wriggled and the foot plumped out into a platform Mary Jane clog. Another clog joined the first and Bee's creation pussyfooted into view.
"What am I?" she murmured, her voice breathy and bashful.
Bee ogled. Perfect. Other than the thick clogs elevating her to average height, the scarlet girl wore only the come-and-get-it grin of a baby-faced coquette. Perfect. The bangs of her pageboy haircut fell in occluded angles as she inclined her head to look up at him through lush lashes and thick eyebrows. Perfect. She noticed where he was staring and draped an arm over her pert, full breasts in a seemingly shy gesture that gave her the opportunity to tweak her nipples erect and left nothing to the imagination. He glanced down and she covered her cleft with her other hand, taking care to press her middle and ring fingers deep into her sex so the folds of her labia peeked around them. "Perfect," Bee said aloud.
"I am perfection," the scarlet girl said, sounding satisfied with his answer, and unfolded her wings.
Bee took a step back. Her webbed wingspan filled the width of the kitchen with the colors of black shadow and crimson flame. She's cherry, he thought, and you made her. That makes her yours, so start acting like a man. "I am your master," he told her.
Her smile widened. "I have a master."
She's got to know I'm in charge here. "You will serve me," Bee said, "You live to please me, whether you like it or not."
"I will serve my master," she said, stepping closer. "I live to serve him and please him, like it or not."
"You will do anything, any sick, twisted, perverted thing, I want," Bee said, "and I want to do everything."
"I want to do every sick, perverted, and twisted thing with my master," she said, slinking over to the kitchen table and encircling Bee with batwings. She tilted her head and a second pair of wings, tiny twins of the first, fanned out from behind her ears.
That didn't sound right. And what's with the wings? That's the sort of stupid shit Dee's into. "I'm not Dee!" Bee shouted. This is all going wrong. I'm too tired and hurt to think straight. He massaged his temples with his good hand. Not realizing he was speaking aloud, he said, "All of this is your damn fault, Dee. Well, screw you. Fuck you. I beat you."
"Screw Dee. Fuck Dee. Beat Dee." the scarlet girl agreed, resting a sympathetic arm on Bee's left shoulder. She fingered through the pile of empty Jell-O boxes on the kitchen table. "You used so much," she whispered. "You've made me so strong." Warm wings enfolded him in a crushing, full-body embrace from head to toe. "How shall I thank you?"
"You need cum now," Bee wheezed as the scarlet girl squeezed. "My cum. To keep you…cohesive. Without it, you'll melt. Fall apart."
She stood on tiptoe to mash her mons against his crotch. "My master should be my first, shouldn’t he?"
Bee gazed into the obsidian, abyssal black of the scarlet girl's eyes. "I'm your master," he pled as she reached out with both hands to cup his face. "I'm your only master," Bee said.
She pressed her forehead against his. "I have a master," she whispered, and kissed him. Her lips were cool and firm but her aggressive tongue was creamy, bittersweet, and scalding, like a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie still gooey and piping hot from the oven.
When she broke the soul kiss, Bee said, "You taste like…like a cupcake."
"Mm," the scarlet girl purred, nibbling Bee's bottom lip, "and you taste like collagen." She picked something off the table. "I have a master," she said, and pushed it into Bee's hand. "Only one master." Bee looked down. She had given him an open Jell-O box, its coloring different from the rest. Frowning, he turned it over.
Jell-O Instant Pudding: Devil's Food
"And his name is Dee," Black Cherry said, broke Bee's neck, and tore off his head.
The castle started spinning
Or maybe it was my brain
I can't tell you what she did to me
But my body will never be the same
Her lovin' will kick your behind
(Oh, she'll show you no mercy)
But she'll sho'nuff, sho'nuff show you how to grind
—Prince, Darling Nikki |
Comments (0)
You don't have permission to comment on this page.