Splatterpunk's Not Dead Page 5

  “What is it?”

  I couldn’t talk. I mean I tried but I just made this kind of squeak. I was scared and miserable and thought I might just up and die of embarrassment, but that darn thing in my pants was as alive as it’d ever been, so big and dumb. I hated it. Hated myself, for comin’ and puttin’ myself in this spot, gettin’ this nice lady in such a horrible position. What on earth had possessed me?

  She took another breath, and this time, when she spoke again, the kind was back in her voice.

  “Show me.”

  My arms moved by themselves, felt like. I hooked the pants, stretching out the waistband to make sure they cleared it, and pulled ‘em down. I had my head down too, so I was starin’ down at those blades. They pointed up at me, swayin’ just a little from the movement, at a slight angle away from my belly.

  I just stared and stared, sweatin’ and breathin’ heavy. I believe I’d still be standing there now if she hadn’t put her hand under my chin. I looked up, afraid to meet her eye but unable to look away. She was bent forward, so I got a good peak down her top as I looked up. I felt like I shook a little then but that might just have been inside.

  I met her eyes. They were very blue and very sweet. I felt the worst of the panic fade a little – she wasn’t screamin’, hadn’t thrown me out, and now she was looking at me like maybe it was okay.

  “Honey... Is this why you came here? Why you wanted to bake?”

  I nodded. Held her eyes. Before I couldn’t look, now I couldn’t look away.

  “Did someone do this to you?” So gentle, careful.

  I shook my head.

  She nodded, tried on a smile. It looked good. “You were brave to come here, Dale. I see that now.. Have you... have they ever moved?”

  I really did think I was goin’ to faint then, just for a second, but I didn’t, I just said “no, ma’am” which came out all shaky, and tried not to start blubbin’.

  She smiled wider at that. Well, let’s see what we can do about that, shall we?”

  Next thing I know, I’m up on the counter, on all fours. She put the mixing bowl under me, then said “go ahead honey” and I lowered myself into the butter and sugar. I could feel it against the blades. It felt amazin’ and irritatin’ all at once. My tummy was all fluttery.

  Nothin’ happened. I grit my teeth and willed and willed, but nothin’ moved. Felt like it wanted to, but...

  “Honey, do you mind if I take my hands to.. to you here? Just to see if we can get things going?”

  I shook my head, glad not to have to look at her. My head was pounding with hot blood. I musta been red, I sure felt red. Excited and scared and wrong and so right, and not quite right, all at once.

  Her fingers traced the blades, then up to where the tube met my body. I couldn’t help a little shudder, but the blades didn’t move.

  “Sorry, honey, I’m just tryin’...”

  “It’s okay, ma’am.”

  “Well now, I think you can call me Lisa-May now, don’t you, given all we’ve been through?” As she spoke the fingers reached around my shrivelled sack, and suddenly I felt somethin’ and my breath caught.

  “Oh.” She sounded cautious, but also.. I dunno, eager? Interested? Something. She stroked the skin there, then her fingers found a nub of something hard where I guess my balls shoulda been. As soon as her fingers touched it I had to moan.

  “Oh.” More sure this time. “Honey, I think we’ve got something here. You want me to...?”

  “Yes, please, ma... Lisa-May, please...”

  Her fingers tightened on the nub. It moved, and suddenly I felt the blades turn too, rotating together though the butter, slicing it up into the sugar, blendin’ them together.

  “This feels amazin’, m... Lisa-May!”

  “You’re blendin’ ‘em real good! Hang on.”

  She swapped hands then, usin’ the other to crack an egg into the mix. I felt the cold slime from the white and yolk mix with the butter and sugar under my spinnin’ blades, and it felt so good, makin’ this mixture squeeze through ‘em, between ‘em, and my belly got tighter and tighter as she cracked in the other two eggs, finger workin’ that hard nub all the time, and I took to moving my hips around, drivin’ the mixture around the bowl, little splashes coming up and coating my thighs. She giggled, a lovely sound, like she could feel my pleasure. Me, I felt like I was doin’ what I always shoulda been doin’, like the world made sense for the first time I could remember. She finally tipped in the treacle, and revved me up, and man I felt somethin’ build and build and then just go, like a pullin’ that ran up my leg and into my spine, then a pumping feeling right through my blades. I made a noise like “Ggggg!” and the blades just span and span and blended, and I could feel something passin’ out of me and into the mix, squirtin’, but I couldn’t see nothin’ and thought maybe I was imagining that part. It was a great feelin’, but I noticed they started to slow down a bit after, started shrinkin’ back a little, and Lisa-May said, “That’s okay honey, you did real good”, and she put a towel over the stool and I sat down on it, pants around my ankles, and watched her fold in the flour and make the dough. Watchin’ her kneed it out, then roll it flat, and start cuttin’ shapes, I felt somethin’ stir, and sure enough those droopin’ blades were startin’ to grow again – it was a little unsteady at first, almost painful, but they were definitely on the rise. She saw it and looked up at me, with a twinkle in her eye, and said “Well, ain’t you a healthy young man? Maybe we’ll get a second round of something done. Would you like that?”

  I nodded, and it made the thing growing out of me nod too, and she laughed. “I swear Dale, it’s like we were made for each other, ain’t it? Me with my love of the baking and you with your...” She waved at my doin’s, looking at them. I liked that. Liked her looking at it. She spoke, talking more to the beater than me, seemed like, but I didn’t mind “It’s a thing of beauty. I swear. If only...”

  I didn’t want her to finish that sentence, and she didn’t. She looked up instead. ‘Well, ain’t you a mess?”

  I looked down, saw the blades all caked with the dough mix. Bobbing up at me. The splatters on my belly and legs. I giggled.

  “Yes, Lisa-May, I sure am.” She laughed too.

  “Well, you just hang tight, we’re gonna get you cleaned up.” She took the gingerbread men over to the oven, put them in, then came back. She squatted in front of me, close, her hands on my shoulders. Her face was serious, but her eye contact made me throb down there worse than ever. Anyways, she didn’t seem mad, only serious.

  “Now Dale, I don’t think you and I have done anything wrong here. Do you?”

  I wasn’t 100% sure, to be honest, but it sure didn’t feel wrong, so I shook my head.

  “Good. I only ask because I’m now gonna ask you somethin’ that might make it seem bad, but it ain’t. It’s just... I don’t think other people would understand. Do you get me?”

  I thought about Joey’s club foot and all the mean awful thing people said, and I looked down at myself and “Yes ma’am, I get you.”

  Her hand went under my chin again, gentle but firm. Her eyes seemed a little damp this time, I thought. Or maybe it was mine.

  “And I am a married woman. Dan’s a good man, an understandin’ man, but this... This has to be ours, do you understand? Our secret?”

  I nodded, holdin’ her eyes to show I was serious. She saw that and smiled again. “You’re a creature of beauty, Dale. Anybody ever tell you that?”

  “Lisa-May, I think you’re about the most beautiful woman in the whole world, and that’s the truth.”

  She giggled and blushed. “Hush, boy. You’re very sweet.”

  She leaned closer. “You will keep this as ours, won’t you?”

  “I will.”

  She smiled again, showing teeth, her eyes sparkly again, and it made my belly do a flip. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  She kneeled down and put her lips to my belly, kissing and licking away the mix. I
gasped, feeling her warm there, hot and wet, and I felt the blades go rigid. She used her mouth to clean off all the mix from my thighs and stomach, then she took the metal in her hand and looked up at me. “These things ever move without the touch?”

  I shook my head. “Never. They can’t.”

  She smiled. “Good.” Then she started licking the blades.

  I don’t know how long she did it for. I shut my eyes, just rocked by the feeling of her tongue and lips running all over me, then opened them again, wanting to watch. She looked back up at me, then closed her eyes and put her mouth over one blade, then the next, moving her wet tongue over the part in her mouth. The blades were as big and hard as I could ever remember, and I felt like I was going to explode, but they didn’t move even a hair as she did what she did.

  Eventually she stopped and held her face back. I could feel her breath where the blades were wet with spit. They gleamed. She smiled, then reached her hand up underneath. Her fingers brushed the nub, then squeezed...

  I felt that pull in my belly and legs again. The blades spun, and that pumping kicked in. I saw her face get sprayed with spit, then something else that came out the end of the beater, where the pee comes out. She closed her eyes and I watched this stuff spray over her cheeks, nose, and lips, some of it hitting her neck, running down her exposed cleavage.

  I just stared as she took another towel and wiped herself down, cleaning the stuff away. I felt great, but also scared. I thought about that stuff gettin’ in the mix earlier when I done that before, how it musta done, and I thought about sayin’ somethin’ about that, but I didn’t. Instead, I said

  “I didn’t know that was gonna...”

  She smiled at me, a real smile. ”Don’t worry honey, I did. Did it feel good?”

  I nodded, still a little unsure.

  “Good. Me too.” She wiped herself down, cleaning off her hands on the towel. “Now pull your pants up.”

  I did, and then a buzzer went off in the kitchen. “Sounds like the men are ready!” She said, happy, and went to get them out of the oven. I slumped back on the chair, exhausted.

  #

  I woke up to the sound of her choking. It was dim and I couldn’t see properly at first. I heard the noise, like a cat throwing up, but deeper. I looked around.

  I’d fallen asleep on her sofa, and she was over in the easy chair. By the looks, she’d been asleep herself. Her head was thrown back.

  Sat on the back of the chair were two of the gingerbread men we’d made, one either side of her head. They had their little arms on her forehead, forcing it back. On her front, I could see four of them climbing up her body, clinging to her clothes as she bucked and rocked. Her arms were pinned by more of them. I looked up at her face. A gingerbread torso was poking out of her mouth, wriggling. The arms were tryin’ to push her jaws wider. I could see behind her teeth was just a wall of biscuit, crumbed up and blocking her mouth completely.

  I did a count. Two holdin’ her head. Two on each arm. Four more climbing up her. One in the mouth. So three of ‘em musta already been blocking her throat.

  The thought got me moving for some reason. I leapt up and brought my fist down on the one holding her left hand. They musta been strong, but I guess they was still made outta gingerbread, because he damn near exploded in a shower of crumbs. Her freed hand went straight up to her face, but just grabbed at her throat, as if she could clear it from the outside.

  The others never reacted to me, and I crushed them all in turn, grabbing the ones off her body and stomping them into ginger dust, but by the time I’d finished and tried to clear her throat, she’d already passed. I phoned the ambulance and I guess they phoned the police and they took me here and now I’m talking to you, and I know the story sounds crazy and I’m sorry about what happened to Lisa-May but the proof is right here in my pants and you’d better call the people who are still in the trailer, because we made a Derby Pie after and it was still in the oven when I got taken out and I don’t want to think about what that’s gonna do when it’s done baking.

  Please Subscribe

  Adam Cesare

  Uploaded 1 Month Ago

  “Hey guys. Melody here, and this is my first of what I hope to be many videos.”

  We’re in a typical webcam medium shot.

  The girl on screen is attractive but not the most attractive we’ve seen.

  And that’s okay, because she’s got stiff competition. We do watch a lot of videos. And once she watches a few more, herself—some tutorials on proper lighting (the difference between key and fill), a couple of make-up how-tos—then maybe she will rank among the most beautiful.

  “I’m new to this whole thing, but I see that the surefire way to get likes and subscribers is to live-stream myself playing video games. But, and I hate to break this to you, Internet, but: I’m not a gamer. Unless phone games count.

  “No. My content is going to be...”

  She scrunches up her nose in a way that can only be described as self-aware. It’s a calculated movement. Calculated, but we are all in agreement that the nose-scrunch is undeniably adorable.

  Yes, her first video isn’t of the highest quality, but this is a girl who knows what she’s doing. This channel will get more interesting. It’s definitely worth sticking around for the remaining two minutes and thirty-four seconds of her first video.

  “Well, I actually don’t know what the content on my channel is going to be. And I’m hoping that maybe you guys could help me decide. Leave me a comment and slap a like on this video to help me get some views. But, before you leave, let me tell you a little bit about myself.”

  She begins a list, counting off her attributes on her fingers like she’s only got the ten.

  The list goes:

  She’s eighteen.

  She doesn’t say where she’s living now, but she’ll be attending Rutgers in the Fall. That gives us a general location, if she’s going away for college but not too far away.

  Melody Bliss, her channel name, isn’t her real name. No duh!

  Her interests include music (classical music, actually, she was first chair violin in high school and hopes to continue the instrument in college), volleyball, and watching bad TV with her friends. And that’s not an editorializing on our part, she actually calls it “bad TV”, which is a level of self-reflection that many young women do not possess. Especially young women who post cell phone videos of themselves online.

  She has two dogs. Which is boring.

  But she also has a hermit crab that she got at the boardwalk two years ago. She seems proud she’s been able to keep him alive this long. “He’s molted three times!” she tells us. We’re not sure what that means, but her enthusiasm is quirky and adorable (that word again) and already on-brand.

  But there’s a big clue in that hermit crab discussion, because she called going to the beach going “down the shore.” That means we’ve successfully triangulated her to the tri-state area. Probably Philly or South Jersey.

  Melody signs off—as most of them do—with a plea to subscribe to her channel.

  So we subscribe.

  Uploaded 3 Weeks Ago

  “Hey guys. Did you miss me?”

  She’s back. Very few young vloggers stick to a schedule. Some never even make a second video, forgetting about that silly dream of internet stardom after their first video fails to break fifty views.

  But this girl. She’s got moxie. We’re all in agreement there.

  Moxie and a black eye. She’s tried to hide the injury with concealer, but she must not have watched a tutorial on that, either: the bruise is glaringly apparent.

  Whatever happened to her eye must have happened not long after she recorded her last video, because the mark has already begun to heal. There’s a thin crescent of discoloration against the bridge of her nose that’s brownish instead of a dark, attractive purple.

  Her makeup technique is no better, but she’s learned some video production tricks.

  This video has
a custom thumbnail. Also the lighting and framing is worlds better.

  This is quality content.

  “So I got a few responses to the last video, some comments, and I thought I’d go through and address some of them.”

  We all lean a little bit closer to our screens at hearing this. It doesn’t matter the size of the screen, even if we’re watching on a phone and could more easily lift the screen closer to us, we still lean forward.

  Because maybe she’s going to address our questions directly.

  Maybe she’s going to say our name.

  “The request I received the most was if I could play you all something on my violin. And maaaaaybe I will if we can get my page to 100 subscribers by next week, but I don’t think I’m feeling up to it today.”

  She touches the side of her face with the bruise, but doesn’t address it directly.

  Melody: you’re holding out on us.

  How did you hurt your eye?

  We all want to know.

  “And then there were some comments that were...” she pauses, searching for the words in, by this point, her trademark, cutie-pie way. “Let’s call them rude.”

  She looks deeper into the camera.

  “I had to delete many of them. Sorry, pervs! This is a family show.”

  She smiles, changing the subject, switching gears with an almost audible click as her smile brightens.

  “There was one other common viewer request that I think I can give you all the hook up with.”

  She reaches both hands under the frame and our collective hearts leap because not only can we see a little further down her shirt, but she comes back up holding...

  A fish tank?

  An empty fish tank, with a fog of condensation on the sides and cling wrap over the lid.

  “You all wanted to meet Pablo the hermit crab. And he wants to meet you!”

  She removes the lid, lifts out a pathetic little creature in an oversized shell. She places Pablo flat on one hand. A few seconds elapse as she waits silently for him to poke his antennae under his shell. He tastes the air, then pops his eye stalks and legs out and makes a beeline for the edge of her hand.