FESTIVE FEST 2011
by Graham Murray
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Copyright© 2011, Graham Murray
Published by Living Books USA
Cover design by author
NOTE:
This work contains language and graphic images not suitable for
persons under the age of eighteen (18) or those of a
sensitive disposition. By accepting these conditions you assert that
you are in compliance with your country’s local or state laws.
This book is purely a work of fiction unless otherwise stated. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons whether living or deceased, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author or publisher.
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FESTIVE FEST 2011
Welcome to the first annual edition of festive erotica. FESTIVE FEST 2011 is an anthology of all my adult stories released during 2011. Three bonus titles are included in this edition of FESTIVE FEST 2011. These are two “How To” titles, “OMG” and “DT”, intended to help everyone add even more spice to their bedroom frolics, real or imagined. The third is the best-selling, “Erotica: Turn Prose into Profit” – an essential guide on marketing your erotica material and my highest-rated Smashwords title for many months. The stories appear here in the order in which they were published.
Each FESTIVE FEST edition will be available to Smashwords members only from the first week in December until New Year’s Eve, when it will be withdrawn from sale. Copies may then be obtained only by special back order directly from the publisher.
Adult titles outsell regular fiction by a factor of ten! It was therefore decided that a compilation book would be well received, especially at Christmas time, considering that download numbers for all erotica titles are in the many thousands. Some 10,000 copies of “Li’l Red in the Hood” alone were downloaded by readers - half of these from “Amazon” readers where it was also available.
Here’s wishing you all a merry and above all, a very horny and satisfying Christmas Holiday!
FESTIVE FEST 2011
CONTENTS
BONUS TITLES
1. OMG! How to Experience the Ultimate Orgasm
3. Erotica: Turn your prose into profit!
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SYNOPSES - (click any title to read story)
1. Li’l Red in the Hood - Life in The Projects is tough. And when drop-dead gorgeous, top-heavy Heidi is sent on a mission to Granny’s cottage in the woods, you can expect almost anything to happen. From excessively big wolves, to beefcake men with even bigger choppers, there is always someone ready to ‘rescue’ a damsel in distress. But take heed! If you go down to the woods today you’re guaranteed of a BIG surprise. Or perhaps even a little ‘negotiable affection’. Note: This story was written specifically for the UK market.
2. Blow for Blow - Heidi’s back! And this time she’s really, really pissed. Aunt Olga has been up to her ‘tricks’ again and left Heidi short. On a weekend! There’s nothing for it, she’ll have to visit Brian “Bud” for a special favor. Again.
But we all know that favors come at a price. The question is: Will Heidi cough up, or swallow it? Desperate times call for desperate measures, and our buxom beauty once again finds herself between a rock and a hard . . . a hard decision. Fortunately, Brian - with his aptitude for turning people that get in his way into fish food - has a special offer for Heidi. One she can’t refuse. This is the ‘Blow for Blow’ account of what happens.
3. Spice of Life - A man hiding in the bushes outside a woman’s house eagerly waits for her to fall asleep. Once the lights go out, he gets down to business. The blade flashes in his hand before he lets himself into the house and makes his way towards her bedroom to take what he feels is his. The woman has no idea of the terror about to befall her.
4. Photo Shoot - Heidi is back! This time she is offered the chance of a lifetime. She is about to become the latest name in ‘Glamour Modeling’, whatever that means! A glamour photographer thinks that Heidi possesses all the ‘natural assets’ to make it big. Or bigger. All he has to do is not cock it up and keep his mind on the job in hand. Literally. Sometimes photographers just make a mess of things!
5. Diphylla - A woman of unknown origin wrangles her way into a man’s bed. He is exactly what she desires and needs - someone she can really get her teeth in to! What she doesn’t realize until it is too late, is that she is exactly who he has been searching for. Now that he has her in his grip, there is Hell to pay. In more ways than one. Superb erotica with a climax that nobody could imagine.
6. Goin’ Down - Elevators have only two directions; up or down. When elevator operator, Nigel, meets ‘her’, she moves his world (and everything else) in all directions, even backwards. Especially backwards. ‘She’ rocks his little world in a way most men can only dream about. And do dream about. Nigel has the ride of his life and hits the spot without even leaving it!
7. Monday Blues - A young man enjoys carnal pleasure from a number of different women, but the last one is altogether too familiar and ruins his fantastical world in a way that we can all relate to. “Monday Blues” is a quick sojourn through a young man’s world that most of us can only dream about. Why does someone always have to spoil it? Life can be so unfair at times . . .
8. Lick Me! - A woman takes the time to reflect on the object of his desire. After licking and gently caressing it until she is satisfied, she takes a degree of pride in the knowledge that she has just made someone close to her very happy. “Lick Me!” is a joyful romp of delightful prose in recognition of the little things in life that we so often take for granted. And all you need is your tongue and a finger to excite somebody special or close to you. Oh, and a red slit to finish the job properly.
9. Come This Way – This time the inestimable Heidi helps a council worker see the error of his ways after his department threatens to evict Aunt Olga from her apartment. All is revealed when Heidi asks him for a private chat. And things really heat up and come to a head when he unburdens himself and realizes that too much exposure is not necessarily a good career move. Especially not with Heidi because you never know who may be watching!
10. Carnal Moon - Inter-species breeding is often prevented by a single enzyme. This biological fact often does not prevent different species from trying. Who says you can’t have a little fun in the process? And who says that love is inhibited by the same processes? In a dog-eat-dog world, the first bite is often the deepest.
11. Duality - CFO David Pike meets Marsha in the copy room. She has secretly admired him for months and he never even suspected. In the privacy of the small room, Marsha unexpectedly demonstrates her feelings for him. A new chapter is about to be written in the book of one David Pike. A chapter that will have far-reaching repercussions. Who is this woman, and what will ultimately happen?
12. Dick and Jane - “Dick” and “Jane” reveal secrets about their owners’ recent behavior. When they discover that these are symbiotic actions, it serves to deepen their own relationship and they discover that they too have renewed vigor and stamina. While Jane discovers her newfound depths, Dick realizes that with a little encouragement, he can keep on going.
13. Lip Service - Two intimate ‘friends’ meet once a week to exchange the latest gossip and discuss life’s Ins and Outs. Paula is less fortunate, but pragmatic. Agnes is having the time of her life and shocks Paula when she explains that once, twice and even thrice is sometimes not enough. Even better is her owner’s new ‘cyclops’. He has an amazing knack for finding sweet spots every time. Some like quantity, others quality. Whatever your preference, at the end of the day (or night), getting any at all is what counts.
14. Hot! - A hot woman, worried that she may not be normal has to put her six-inch friend in her mouth and ‘there’ as well. But only for a few minutes until she discovers if everything is all right. It always makes her feel better.
15. Rendezvous - Two lovers meet in a car in a secret location every week. Today she has a special surprise and wants him to follow her lead.
16. The Final Cut - Two members of a woman’s family suffer a terrible miscarriage of justice that leads to their deaths; one directly, the other indirectly after considerable suffering. Unable to stand by while the criminals walk free, she sets out to inflict her own incredible brand of retribution on the first of the three offenders. After five years of careful planning, she finally manages to get one of the perpetrators at her mercy. What she does to him is beyond belief! An incredible and brutal story of one woman’s quest to avenge the destruction of her family.
BONUS TITLES
1. OMG! How to Experience the Ultimate Orgasm - The myth of the elusive G-Spot is finally revealed in all its glory. Now all women can experience the mother of all sexual pleasures – the ‘gorgasm’, or G-Spot orgasm. OMG! explains and dispels the age old myth behind the elusive G-Spot which has intrigued us for almost a century.
It contains a simple-to-follow guide with diagram that explains exactly what the G-Spot is, shows you how to locate it and offers a step by step guide on how to experience the greatest sexual experience of all – the G-Spot orgasm. Now both men and women can share the experience of the Gorgasm in all its wondrous glory!
2. DT – Take him down - is an essential guide for anyone interested in learning the exquisite art of DT (deepthroat). Considered by many as the ultimate in male pleasuring, this simple-to-learn technique will have your partner clamoring for more.
3. Erotica: Turn your prose into profit! - Writing erotica is no simple task and requires considerable writing skills. Like all fiction, there are guidelines to help improve your readership and increases your profits. Good erotica sells! Make yours the best it can be. Contains a frank examination of both sides of the industry, with hints and pointers guaranteed to improve your erotic stories and increase sales.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Li’l Red in the Hood
It was another wonderful day in the Projects. The large, imposing block of flats known as ‘Brightwell’ loomed in the distance. It sat on the hill like an enormous pile of dog shit: it was brown, nobody wanted it, and it stank.
Despite the brilliant August sun, Brightwell seemed drab. It always did. With its multiple smashed windows, graffiti-daubed walls and burnt out cars in the parking lot, Brightwell was a prime example of ‘Urban Regeneration’ at its best.
Designed to house the less-fortunate among us, Brightwell, like all other such projects, was filled to the brim with hookers, crackheads, dealers, grifters and the occasional senior citizen who, usually through fucking up a council Tenant Application form, had slipped through the net and now found themselves living in hell on earth.
The other residents referred to them either as ‘blue-haired mouth-breathers’ or ‘oxygen thieves’ which, for the most part, was accidentally accurate. Most had either been abandoned by their families or had handicaps that healthcare providers no longer wished to support. They boasted trivial conditions such as Parkinson’s disease, Alzheimer’s, cancer and other coffer-draining ailments that took away from the support of unmarried mothers, drug abusers and alcoholic TV celebrities; the backbone of any self-respecting modern society.
This morning, beside the kids’ trashed playground, a few crackheads on skateboards were flitting around the burnt out, rusted cars and piles of garbage, and terrorizing passers-by with lewd comments, offers to purchase ‘street goods’ and other acts of general and well-practiced delinquency. It was another lovely day in the neighborhood. Without the talking horse.
In apartment 117 on the ground floor, Aunt Olga, with rollers in her hair and a cigarette dangling from her mouth that supporting a precariously dangling one-inch long ash, carefully placed a bottle of wine in a wicker basket on the kitchen table, which she covered with a fetching red-and-white chequered cloth. Aunt Olga, not herself exactly kicking the arse off senior citizenship, turned towards the hallway entrance. The ash dropped to the floor and was surreptitiously kicked under the table.
“Heidi? Heidi!” she yelled. “Get in here! I’ve got a job for you.”
A petulant female voice drifted in from somewhere in the hallway. “I’m busy!”
Aunt Olga rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, ignored the broken fan and sighed. “Get off that damned Internet thing and run this package over to your Grandma’s house for me,” she shouted. “The old git’s probably half-starved by now!”
She needn’t have shouted. Heidi, in all her glory, was leaning on the doorframe. When I say ‘glory’, I actually mean glorious. The woman was blessed with astonishing good looks and a body to die for. Unlike many young woman, who sported a body from ‘Vogue’ and a face from ‘Farmer’s Weekly’, Heidi was strictly en Vogue.
Simply put, Heidi’s presence was breathtaking and only the most stubborn or stunned of dicks remained flaccid very long in her presence. At only eighteen years old, Heidi had the form of a well-developed and definitely mature woman. She wore a light blue summer dress that extended a whole twelve inches above her knees. This revealed long, smooth and evenly tanned legs, which were clad in blue and white striped Bobby socks.
As if this wasn’t enough to kickstart the most reluctant of libidos, Heidi also had a chest. Boy, did she have a chest. Her tits, as any man would testify, were simply magnificent. They were large, round and protruded from her body as two knee-buckling swellings that seemed to move of their own freewill. Simply watching Heidi breathe was a sight to behold.
The crowning glory to these breathtaking assets was the nipples; perched perfectly at the apex of each swelling and in a permanently erect state regardless of what she wore. Like tank starter buttons, Heidi’s nipples could protrude through a G-suit. She seldom wore a bra and, as usual, her nipples now stood proud, their dark shape clearly visible through the flimsy cotton dress.
No sooner had any man had blinked a few times in order to take in this exemplar of womanhood, than they had Heidi’s hair to contend with. To say that she had a ‘shock’ of red hair would be the understatement of the millennium. Heidi’s hair made ‘The Little Mermaid’ look like a strawberry blonde by comparison. This was not ginger hair, which is often enough to make most men cringe at the thought of a carrot-colored little triangle in the Southern region, but red hair; the color of copper, or possibly sunburned chestnuts. It hung in swathes around her shoulders and extended so far down her back that she could actually sit on it. Overall, Ginger’s presence tended to make men exclaim, “Fu-uck!” under the breaths, which was more of a yearning than an exclamation of surprise.
To compliment this morning’s look and, as it were, the cherry on the cake, Heidi was wearing blood-red lipstick which served to accentuate her full and voluptuous lips with their double ridges and, other ideas aside, at times also acted to conceal her impossibly-white teeth. Ting! A mouth like Heidi’s made even the most romantic of the species with a set of testicles realize that the only thing better than roses on a piano, was tulips on an organ.
“Good grief!” said Aunt Olga, disapprovingly, “No wonder you girls are getting raped like there’s no tomorrow. You’re almost naked, girl!”
Heidi tossed her hair aside and pushed away from the door. She sighed and popped her gum, causing Aunt Olga to wince.
“Aunty, this is the fashion,” declared Heidi defensively. “Everyone looks like this these days.”
Aunt Olga sniffed. “Yes. That’s my point,” she said wearily. “All those young men out there with wet ends because . . .” Her eyes travelled up and down Heidi’s body, finally coming to rest on her heaving chest, most of which bulged over the top of her dress. “Because your tits are almost bursting out,” she added with disdain, looking at Heidi’s dress and impossibly long legs, the color of caramel. “And that dress you’re almost wearing? Why, I could see what you had for breakfast if you leaned over. Have you no self-respect, child?”
Heidi noisily chewed her gum and pulled a face. “Aunty, I’ve got half an associate’s degree and a record for marijuana possession,” she retorted. “I’m on the dole and have the career prospects of a”
“That’s not the point, girl,” Olga interjected. “There’s no reason to go around like . . . like . . . that!”
Heidi sighed. She had endured this same observation many times since her parents’ death. This was nothing new.
“Aunty, I’m on Facebook,” she said. “It’s important. What do you want? I can’t just keep these people waiting.”
Aunt Olga pointed at the basket on the table. “I need you to run this basket over to your Grandma’s house.”
Heidi’s expression dropped. “Aw, Aunty! You know I hate going over there. She smells like . . . old people. Makes me want to retch.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “And there’s all those louts at the underpass. They’re like cocks on legs.”
Olga scowled at her. “Now don’t be mean. It’s only your Grandma’s . . . condition that makes her−Anyway, she’s probably half starved. So, get this over to her and just ignore those silly boys. If you covered yourself you wouldn’t attract their attention.” She reached behind the kitchen door and retrieved a bright red garment which she handed to Heidi. “Here,” she said. “Wear this . . . delightful cape your Granny knitted for you. You never wear it.”
Heidi snatched the cape from her Aunt’s outstretched hand. “That’s because I look a complete prat in it,” she said, scowling. “Elsbeth says I look like a tampon!”
Olga huffed. “Huh! Elsbeth. Well, she would know wouldn’t she? Standing on street corners all hours of the night.”
Heidi contrived to look offended. “She’s showing me the tricks of the trade! Anyway, she’s your sister.”
Olga grunted. “She’s showing you tricks. The trade is completely different.”
Heidi sighed. “Whatever, Aunty,” she said and picked up the basket. “What’s in here, anyway?
“The left over sesame bread we had from breakfast.”
“Oh, God! She’ll bitch about the seeds getting stuck in her teeth,” protested Heidi.
“And some wine to wash it down with,” added Olga curtly.
“Oh, good. At least she’ll be pissed enough not to notice,” said Heidi.
Aunt Olga ignored her. “Anyway, if you get this over to her now, you’ll be back in no time at all and can go back to your book face.”
Heidi’s shoulders sagged, causing her chest to wobble from side to side like Jell-O. She reluctantly donned the cape and fastened the single button at the neck. When she twirled around, it caused not only the cape to fan out, but her dress as well. This gave Aunt Olga a fleeting glimpse of the white G-string Heidi often wore as a form of underwear. Olga sighed in resignation, tilted her head to one side and glowered at Heidi.
“All right. All right!” said Heidi. “I’ll run this over but I must come right back. Those are real people on Facebook. They could help me find something useful. Besides, I’ve suddenly been flooded with email ever since I posted some pictures of myself.”
“Oh, I bet you have . . .” muttered Aunt Olga.
“What?” said Heidi suspiciously.
“Nothing, child. Nothing,” sighed Olga. Heidi picked up the basket and headed towards the door. “And don’t stray off the trodden path through those woods,” added her Aunt. “You never know what’s in there.”
Heidi rolled her eyes. “Yes I do, Aunty. It’s full of broken bottles, condoms and used needles.”
“Well, then,” said Olga, ignoring her cynicism, even though it had been an accurate description. “Stay on the path and you’ll be fine. And try not to step in any dog shit. You’ll traipse it all over Granny’s carpet and have the place stinking to high heaven.”
“No one would notice, believe me,” muttered Heidi.
“And be nice to her. She’s a delightful old lady when you get to know her.”
“She’s a retired hooker, Aunty,” said Heidi. “What’s delightful about that?”
“I meant she has some fascinating stories to tell,” said Olga reproachfully. “If you’d give her half a chance. She also has a wonderful sense of humor.”
“She would have to have,” said Heidi quickly, and then, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She thrust her feet into a pair of red, four-inch stiletto heels, smoothed down her dress and left.
Olga brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead. “Kids! Who’d have ‘em,” she murmured. “They don’t stand a chance these days.”
Click. Click. Click.
Three youths leaning on the wall to the entrance of the underpass looked up at the sound of Heidi’s approaching heels. The leader, a scrawny kid wearing a ‘Hoodie’ sweater, looked up and smartly stepped in front of her.
“Well, well, well . . .” he drawled. “Looky here! Breakfast.”
Heidi attempted to side step him but he matched her, his eager eyes ogling her breasts and exposed, tanned legs.
“Beat it, punk,” said Heidi. “I don’t have time to play with kiddies. Anyway, shouldn’t you be in school or something?”
She arched around him and continued on her way. Within a few clicks of her heels, the punk kid had a six inch stiletto knife in his hands. He ran around Heidi and stood facing her again.
“Okay, missy,” he said, not amused now. “Just keep walking into the underpass.”
Heidi stared at the knife in the kid’s hand and sighed. She was brought up on these streets. Punks like this kid seldom bothered her. But then again, they seldom held a six-inch blade in a threatening manner. It usually meant only one thing.
“Good grief,” she said wearily. “Don’t you kids ever learn?”
“Shut your mouth, girlie!” snapped the kid, sneering at her. “I have plans for it other than yapping.”
Left with little choice and at knifepoint, Heidi walked into the deserted underpass. The two remaining members of the kid’s ‘gang’ stood guard at the entrance.
“Right,” said the kid. “Drop your little basket, turn around and put your hands on the wall.” He sniggered. “Then you can lift up that pretty little dress of yours and show me your world.” His tone hardened. “And don’t you dare turn around, or you’ll feel this blade in your ribs.”
Heidi looked him up and down and grinned. Yes, she thought when she noticed the small bump in the front of the kid’s shorts. I doubt I’ll be feeling anything else. She sighed resignedly. After placing the basket on the ground, she turned around and put the palms of her hands on the wall. The kid’s breathing had quickened. She smiled to herself as, with one hand, she reached around and flipped her skirt up and over her ass.
The kid gasped. Tight, brown peaches greeted him, supported on the longest legs he’d ever seen. In one deft maneuver, Heidi had gripped her G-string and pulled it aside. And then she waited, still smiling. She slid her hands down the wall a few inches and pushed out her ass, knowing this would part her cheeks a little and send the kid to glory hole heaven.
She had to suppress a snigger when from behind her came a few muffled grunts. She looked over her shoulder. The kid’s knees were buckling and a small wet patch had appeared on the front of his shorts. He looked flushed.
“Shit!” he said, glaring at Heidi.
She laughed out load. “Yeah, I thought so. You know, you punks are just like the dog that chases the car; you have no idea what to do when you catch it.”
She thrust one leg straight out backwards and caught him in the moistened groin with her heel. As he sank to the floor, the knife he had been holding skittered to one side. When the two guards at the entrance started to approach, Heidi bent over and quickly retrieved the knife. This, of course, had exposed everything under her dress to them. It stopped them dead in their tracks.
“Je-sus!” said one. “Get a load of that! Is that the best pussy you’ve ever see in your life, or what?”
Heidi spun around, brandishing the knife in front of her. It was steady as a rock.
Okay, shitheads,” she said. “One step closer and I promise you, you’ll both be attending synagogue in the future. Now, piss off and take your pathetic friend with you before I cut his weenie tonker off and feed it to you!”
Stunned and amazed by this beauty will balls, the two boys looked at their leader, and then turned on their heels and bolted for the entrance.
Heidi casually closed the knife and dropped in down her cleavage, where it disappeared from view. After a quick look at the writhing kid, she picked up her basket and continued on her way. Behind her, the kid had managed to struggle to his knees, but puked and then sank back down onto his face, moaning softly. He had entered his own little world of exquisite pain.
Trees and shrubbery adorned both sides of a rough path that wound through the woods. From here, any rambler was blissfully unaware of the broken bottles, condoms and used needles the lush greenery concealed.
Heidi hummed a merry tune as she skipped along, the basket swinging by her side. She fished in her pocket, withdrew a perfectly rolled spliff and lit it. Smiling happily, she deeply inhaled and blew the smoke skywards. She removed the rollup from between her lips and looked at it.
Man, this sure is some good shit, she thought dreamily but was pulled from her reverie by a nearby rustling. Her ears prickled. Was somebody in the bushes? Had she been followed?
She stopped and sighed, standing with her hands on her hips. “Okay, guys,” she said in a humdrum tone. “We’ve been through this once already today. Give it up and go home before I get really mad.”
In a spray of leaves and broken twigs, an enormous grey wolf leapt from the bushes and landed on the path in front of her, its paws planted firmly on the ground, its head low and menacing. Heidi’s eyes flew open as she clamped a hand to her massive chest. Slobber dripped from the wolf’s red mouth onto the pathway. Its yellow eyes were intense and eager. A ridge of fur stood erect along its back.
Heidi stared at the beast in disbelief. “Fuck! Stupid animal!” she shouted. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Hellooo, little girl,” drawled the wolf, suddenly feeling somewhat off-kilter. Heidi looked at the spliff in her hand again and softly whistled under her breath.
Whoa! Really good shit . . .
She glared at the wolf. “Beat it, dog. I’m on a mission here.”
The wolf closed it mouth and tilted its head to one side. Its expression slowly changed from that of malevolence to one of what could best be described as confusion. It sat down, its eyes never leaving Heidi. Even in its lupine brain, Heidi’s shape was a sight for sore eyes. Even wolf eyes.
It waved a languid paw. “Nah. ‘m not a dog. I’m a wolf, see? Look. Big teeth, long tongue?”
Heidi peered at the animal and shrugged, causing a rippling effect across her chest that the wolf found a little disconcerting. In its distant memory, it recalled a story about how two wolves were suckled by a human. Or was that two humans who were suckled by a wolf? It couldn’t remember, but whatever it was, the sight of Heidi’s huge, erect nipples producing miniature tents at the front of her dress stirred something within its genes.
“Dog. Wolf. Same thing,” said Heidi nonchalantly, waving a dismissive hand.
The wolf stood up again. “Nah, nah,” it said. “You got it all wrong. Your average dog, right, may be descended from us wolves, but they’re not real wolves. They’re just wannabes. They dream of running with the pack. In the wild, you know? That kind of thing.”
The wolf bared its teeth. “Now . . . us wolves? We’re killers. Pack hunters. We can bring anything down.”
Heidi looked around. “Including the house,” she mumbled. “So, er, where’s the others, then?”
The wolf frowned. “Come again?”
Heidi sighed. “You said you’re pack hunters, so, where’s the rest of the pack?”
The wolf looked around and then back to Heidi. “Oh. Right. I see what you mean. Er, they ate some bad kid yesterday. They all got a nasty case of the squits.”
“Right,” said Heidi, unimpressed. “So it’s just you, then?”
The wolf glared at her. “I’m enough,” it said with renewed bravado. “Believe me.” It eyed the basket that Heidi was carrying. “Anyway, where are you headed? This is a dangerous place for a . . . tender, buxom, long-legged girl to be on her own.”
Heidi gave a derisory laugh. “Don’t be silly. I’ve been coming this way for ages. Nothing’s ever happened to me before. Until now.” She stared at the wolf. “And so far my record’s still safe, apparently.”
This went over the wolf’s head. “What’s in there?” it asked, eyeing the basket.
Heidi lifted up a corner of the cloth. “In here? Oh, just some leftovers for my granny. She’s kind of old and infirm. I’m just talking her some dinner.”
The wolf looked around again. The path was still deserted.
“Well, isn’t that nice of you. Where does your, er, Granny live, then?”
Heidi extended her neck. “At the end of the path. You know, that little cottage with the crappy yard? The one with the archetypal well in the front yard.”
The wolf’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, yeah! I know the place. Huh, I thought that cottage was abandoned.”
“No. It just looks that way,” said Heidi. “She’s a lazy old cow. Never does any yard work. Just lies around in bed all day, knitting and watching reality TV.”
“Right. Right. Pretty sad, then, huh? I, er, noticed you haven’t got any flowers for your dear granny. Apparently they like flowers.” He lifted a paw and pointed into the woods. “I saw some gentle lupines and tall hollyhocks back there just now. Maybe you should go pick her some. You know, brighten up her miserable existence a little? Especially with all the TV crap she watches. Her mind must be mush.”
Heidi thought about this for a while, then stubbed out the spliff with her heel.
“Yes. That’s a good idea. I think the old bat might like that. Where did you saw you saw them?”
The wolf raised a paw again. “Just over there,” it said. “Help yourself.”
As Heidi stepped into the bushes she turned around. The wolf had vanished. “Huh. Weird dog,” she said. “Looked like it needed to get laid. Really uptight.”
She walked into the bushes and soon found the flowers the wolf had mentioned. Still singing a catchy little ditty, she set about collecting a bouquet of wild flowers for her Grandma. “I like the way you work it . . . um, hum . . .”
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, which was actually Granny’s crappy cottage, the wolf stood at the front door with a large stick in its mouth. It used it to bang on the door. From within the cottage came a squeaky, frail voice.
“Who is it?” it said. The wolf dropped the stick, frowned and looked around before clearing its throat. Having sucked on a human woman’s tits somewhere in its distant past, it tried on its best human female voice, figuring that there had probably been some genetic throwback somewhere along the line. Besides, it had heard through the wolf vine that there were some human females that really liked dogs. Probably more than they were actually supposed to. And when a vision of Heidi’s incredible legs and heaving chest flashed across its brain, it felt an unfamiliar stirring in its nether regions. It shook it head to concentrate.
“It’s me,” it said. “Your granddaughter. I’ve brought you some goodies,” and to itself thought, Shit! What was the girl’s name?
It didn’t know. Besides, he’d intended to eat her, not set up a whole new frigging social network. Strangely enough, the thought of eating her now rang a different tune in his mind that he couldn’t quite place.
“Heidi!” came Granny’s voice again. “My girl! I’m so glad you came. Just pull the bobbin and the door will open.”
Heidi! thought the wolf. Aha! When he looked up at the door handle, his shoulders hunched. Fuck! I’d kill for an opposable thumb, he muttered. Standing on his hind legs, he gripped the bobbin in his teeth and pulled. To his amazementand a slightly damaged canine−the door creaked open and he stepped over the threshold, leaving a line of glistening drool on the floor.
The bedroom was easy to find, seeing as the entire cottage comprised a kitchen, a bedroom and a small area with a curtain across it that didn’t smell too good. It reminded him of those bears that crapped everywhere, the fuckers. He concentrated on the job at hand. Always do the job that is in front of you, his father had taught him.
The wolf crept noiselessly into the bedroom on padded feet. The curtains were drawn, making the room gloomy and uninviting. Granny was lying in the bed with the covers pulled up under her chin. On her head was a white mop hat and perched precariously on her nose was a pair of little round spectacles, the kind favoured by folk singers out of Colorado with bad haircuts.
“Is that you, Heidi?” said Granny.
The wolf stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide. “Er, yes, Granny,” he managed.
Granny squinted into the distance. “Come here, girl,” she said. “Let me take a look at you.”
Realizing that he’d been rumbled and that there was no plausible escape from his current dilemma the wolf, in a single leap, cleared the length of the bed and landed on Granny’s frail chest. In a flurry of frantic activity, bits of fur and exceptionally colorful language from both parties, the huge wolf swallowed the frail old lady whole. All that remained was a white mop hat that lay forlornly on the bed covers.
The wolf climbed into the bed and with extreme difficulty and amazing dexterity of paw, managed to balance the mop hat on its head. Granny’s spectacles, crooked and with one broken lens, now sat perched at the end of the wolf’s muzzle. It burped, licked its chops and then settled down to wait.
An urgent knocking at the door woke the sleeping wolf.
“Wstfgl?” it muttered, jerking upright and quickly looking around to get its bearings. “Er, who is it?” it said.
A familiar voice came back to him and for some reason that he didn’t quite understand, seemed to hit him in the groin.
“It’s me. Your granddaughter, Heidi. I’ve brought you some goodies, Granny.”
“Heidi! My girl!” said the wolf. “I’m so glad you came. Just pull the bobbin and the door will open.”
There was a clicking sound from the door and a few moments later, Heidi entered the darkened room. Her mere presence seemed to lighten the scene considerably. She looked around the gloom, wrinkled her nose and then placed the basket on a small table before crossing over to the window. Panic struck the wolf.
“No, dear! Leave them closed,” it said quickly. “Only, it’s my eyes, you see . . .”
Heidi tutted and pulled a face. “Okay, Granny. I’ll just put these beautiful flowers I brought in this vase here.”
“Oh, thank . . . thank you, child,” the wolf stammered, having gotten a full view of the rear of Heidi. “How nice of you.”
“So, how have you been lately, Granny?” said Heidi conversationally, not that she gave a shit one way or the other. She hadn’t seen the old battle-axe in months, anyway. A slurping sound made her turn around.
“Oh, look!” she said, barely able to keep the contempt from her voice. “You’re dribbling all over the place. Here, I’ll get you a cloth.”
Heidi had an aversion to old people. To her, they all seemed to live in the bottom of a baby’s pushchair; it was all piss and biscuits and diapers.
“No! I’m all right,” said the wolf hastily. “Really. I’m fine. It’s just my teeth. They’re a bit loose is all.”
Heidi felt she might upchuck at the thought of her Granny’s teeth and squinted at the figure in the bed.
“My, Granny, we really do need to get you to a dentist,” she said. “Your teeth are getting way too big. I know a man in the village. He can file them down for you. He owes me big time, especially after I−”
“Er, thank you, child,” said the wolf. “It’s difficult for me to get around these days. What with my gimpy leg and the whole Arthur Ritis thing going on . . .”
Heidi squinted a little more, the better to see in the dirty light that filtered through the bedraggled, stained and moth-eaten curtains that adorned the room’s single window.
“And that hirsutism has gotten way out of control since I was last here. I have some cream that will make all that hair simply vanish. Like magic. I’ll bring some with me next time.” She sniffed. “Whew! We really do need to open a window, Granny,” she said. “It smells like an old toilet carpet in here. Have you got a dog?”
But before Heidi could put her plan into action, the window burst inwards with an almighty crash, showering the room with shards of glass and thousands of wood splinters. Heidi screamed and dropped to the floor, covering her head with her arms. The wolf, equally stunned, cowered lower in the bed but was unable to pull up the covers because of the whole opposable thumb thing.
When the dust had settled a few moments later, they saw a tall, good-looking woodcutter standing in the center of the room, having just crashed through the window like a super hero - possibly of the type that wears their underpants on the outside and who has a side-kick with an effeminate name.
Heidi looked at the man. He was holding his large chopper in one hand (for clarity and to avoid confusion, it was actually an axe). He was wearing a ubiquitous chequered shirt in a sort of cheery red color. He extended his free hand towards Heidi, who was staring up at him, open-mouthed.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” he said, his voice deep and warm.
Heidi stood up, ignored his hand and looked at him. He reminded her of a cigarette commercial - not the kind with a ship of the desert standing on its own near a pyramid, but the kind with a beefy man sitting on a horse, wearing a Stetson hat, handlebar mustache and trying desperately to look butch. Heidi finally regained sufficient composure to answer him.
“What the fuck!” she blurted. “Are you insane!”
The man’s radiant smile faltered and then vanished as confusion pushed it aside.
“I, er . . . do apologize, ma’am,” he said, almost fumbling even this simple sentence. “Only I saw that wolf mooching around here a while ago and figured I’d come and investigate. When I saw the paw-prints at the front door, well . . . I just put two and two together and−”
Heidi was aghast.
“What? So you just jumped clean through the fucking window? The door was open, dumbass!” She waved an arm around the room. “And just look at the mess you’ve made! Not to mention almost scaring the living shit out of me and Grandma. You could have given her a connery, you fuckwit!”
She took in the man’s bulging biceps, chequered shirt and bushy mustache. “You’re not fucking Canadian or something, are you?” she said distastefully. The woodcutter, with a sense of urgency about him, ignored her and pointed at the bed.
“Again, I do apologize, ma’am, but that−” He waggled his finger at the bed. “−is not your dear old Granny.”
Heidi rolled her eyes. “What? Not content with being a complete moron, you’re blind as well! Of course it’s my Grand−”
“It’s a wolf!” said the man with renewed urgency. “And it’s eaten your Grandma!”
Heidi, completely baffled by this outrageous outburst, looked at the bed. Pieces of the exploded window had knocked off the wolf’s mop hat and the glasses were nowhere to be seen. The wolf looked sheepish.
“You!” exclaimed Heidi. She turned to the woodcutter. “It’s that fucking dog I saw on the way here!”
“Wolf . . .” mumbled the wolf.
Heidi glared at the wolf, still cowering under the covers with only its face visible. She slowly and very carefully removed the knife from the recesses of her top and opened it with a click.
The wolf gulped. The woodcutter took a step back.
“Did you munch my Granny?” said Heidi slowly, her voice low and menacing.
The wolf burped. “Who? Me?” it said, oozing innocence as best it could.
The woodcutter jerked out an arm. “Look at its belly, ma’am. I reckon he swallowed her whole.”
Heidi, momentarily distracted, frowned and spun on her heels to face him.
“Swallowed her what? she said.
“I meant he swallowed her all in one go,” explained the woodcutter. “She’s probably still in his belly! We need to get her out!”
Heidi’s hand flew up to her mouth. “Ew! That’s just gross!” she said, turning to face the wolf. “If that’s true, you mangy mutt, you better barf my Granny back right now, or I’m coming in to get her!”
She waved the knife around. The wolf looked panicked.
“What! I can’t just barf to order−” it began, but never finished. Without warning, Heidi, the knife clenched between her titanium-white teeth, let out an ear-piercing scream and leaped onto the wolf in a visage of poetry in motion. In one rapid slashing action, amidst several red spurting fountains of blood, she had slit open the wolf’s belly with the knife.
The horrified woodcutter, unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed and in any case being somewhat of a pacifist by nature, quickly turned around and parked a pizza in the corner of the room. Despite being a ‘meat only’ kind of man, his deposit nevertheless still contained corn, in keeping with narrative conventions.
He stood up and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. His previously ebullient demeanor had vanished. Now he looked positively verdigris around the gill area. When he turned around again, it was to see Granny slithering about on the bed; a sticky, slimy red mess.
“Oh, dear,” she murmured. “I had a terrible dream . . .”
Heidi deftly flicked a piece of wolf gut from her dress. “No dream, Grandma. You were about to become tomorrow’s wolf shit!”
It took a few moments for this to register, and then Granny spotted the unconscious and considerably maimed wolf on the bed. She rapped it on the nose.
“Bad boy!” she squeaked. “I’ve told you not to sneak around here, haven’t I? Now look what you’ve gone and done.”
She looked at an astonished Heidi and the woodcutter, whose mouths were hanging open. Winnipeg was never anything like this, the woodcutter thought in the privacy of his addled mind. An interminable silence had filled the room. He felt the need to end it.
“Wow! She’s quite a lady . . .” he said.
“Yeah,” said Heidi, nodding in agreement. “I guess I inherited her temperament.” She looked around the wreckage in the cottage. “Doubt there’ll be much else, though. This place is all she’s got and it’s a real shithole.”
Granny had oozed from the bed and was now standing upright, dripping slime and bits of wolf innards onto the carpet where they blended in perfectly. She shook her hands at the wrists.
“I’m going to have to clean all this shit off me,” she said. “Meanwhile how about you two find some heavy objects to put in the wolf’s stomach?”
Heidi and the man exchanged glances and shrugged as Granny entered the bathroom, closing the door behind her. They heard the lock click, followed shortly by the shower being turned on. The woodcutter stumbled around the room, looking for heavy objects as Granny had suggested. Finally he announced, “There’s an old iron over here.”
Heidi had been scratching around as well. “And I’ve found some old pots and pans,” she said. “May as well use them. Granny never cooks anymore, anyway. She just eats TV dinners. You know, that plastic crap they call food?”
The woodcutter looked perplexed. Being a good Catholic boy, he wasn’t used to such colorful adjectives. For the next few minutes and accompanied by suppressed gagging sounds, they stuffed whatever heavy items they could find into the wolf’s stomach. When the cavity was full, Heidi used a needle and some thread from Granny’s sewing box to stitch the stomach closed.
The woodcutter then lifted up the body, kicked open the door and dropped it unceremoniously onto the ground where it landed with a muffled thump and a clattering of kitchenware.
It began to tick.
Heidi raised an eyebrow at the woodcutter, who shrugged.
“It was an old alarm clock,” he explained. “It felt kind of heavy, so I . . .”
Heidi nodded in approval. “Let’s get back inside,” she said. “Before this stupid dog explodes or something.”
“Actually, it’s a wo−” the woodcutter began.
“Wolf. Dog. Same thing,” said Heidi dismissively, shutting the door.
The wolf opened its eyes and looked around.
“What the−?” it thought. It felt heavy, as if it had eaten two whole kids. It belched noisily and managed to stagger to its feet with a sound like the brass section falling off the stage. “Wa-ter, Wa-ter,” it croaked.
When its gaze eventually found the archetypal well, it clattered to its feet and stumbled over to it. Being a very large species, it managed to place its front paws on the top of the well, hoping to find some water. It was at this point that a waffle iron, the alarm clock, a griddle, the iron and an old frying pan chose to slip forward in the wolf’s belly. As gravity sucks, it managed its job superbly and the wolf toppled over, disappearing down the well to a howl of, “Fu-uck!
Moments later there was a splash. It had quenched its thirst.
In the cottage, the woodcutter had made himself comfortable in the only remaining unbroken chair. Heidi was sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed, exposing a not-inconsiderable area of coffee-colored thigh. Her glorious breasts were pushed together and bulged over the top of her dress. The woodcutter rubbed his hands together.
“Well, I guess that takes care of that critter!” he said casually. “No more Granny snacks for him!”
Heidi watched the man bemusedly. ‘Critter’ she thought. He really is a complete dick. Who the hell says ‘critter’ these days?
And it was while she was looking at him that Heidi realized something for the first time. It was that the man, in his own inimitable way, was actually quite good-looking. She allowed her eyes to take in the muscular forearms, the mop of perfectly-conditioned and beautiful black hair and then last, but not least, the not inconsiderable bulge in his trousers which she was certain was neither a wallet nor a rocket. Not unless the poor man was severely handicapped or deformed.
As the thought flitted across her mind, Heidi shot a glance at the bathroom. Lazy wisps of steam were escaping from under the door and they could just make out Granny’s voice. “The hills are ali-ive . . . with the sound of−”
Taking this as a cue and throwing all caution to the Bavarian Alps, Heidi lay back on the bed, slipped a hand under her skirt and pulled out a skimpy white G-string, which she dangled in front of her. The woodcutter’s mouth, clearly with tension issues, had dropped open again. He was staring at Heidi’s perfect copper-colored pussy, which was hard to miss as it almost filled his line of view.
“I don’t know how to thank you, sir,” began Heidi, fluttering her eyelashes, “but I’m sure you must be feeling hungry after all that activity. So, how about it? A quick . . . snack before Granny comes out of the shower? We have time.”
She gave him a smile that could have melted Alaska. Or Canada. One of those frozen wastelands, anyway. As she spoke, she had allowed her beautifully sculpted legs to fall open, affording the woodcutter a view that even the Grand Canyon would have trouble matching for sheer jaw-dropping awe. The woodcutter stared at Heidi’s long, golden legs which ended in the perfectly manicured red triangle at the top, the smooth stomach and the swelling of her mammary delectability.
To Heidi’s amazement, the man actually flushed and averted his eyes. She propped herself up on one elbow, flabbergasted.
“What’s the matter, big boy? Not hungry?” she said incredulously. “Or just not in the mood?”
The man kept his eyes turned away, which was a first for Heidi. A close-up eye full of her glistening pussy usually either had men crossing their legs, reluctantly spraying the inside of their underwear, or instantly breaking out in a pathetic repertoire of exceptionally lame pick-up lines. Not only this, but a bevy of very satisfied cocks and expertly drained balls in the village could bear testament to the fact that what she was offering was indeed the very best.
“Er, no, ma’am,” the man said, taken aback. “It’s not that. I’m starving, actually. But . . .” And here he paused, as if lost for words. “I’m more of a, how shall I put this? . . . A sausage and eggs man myself. If you catch my drift?”
Now it was Heidi’s turn. Her perfect mouth fell open in disbelief. She sat up and grabbed her head in both hands.
“Aargh! Men! I fucking hate them!” She shot the bewildered man a look with daggers in it. “You bat for the other side, don’t you?” she said with disgust. “I should have known!”
The bathroom door suddenly opened and Grandma came out in a breathtaking wash of lavender and gardenia. She had wrapped her hair in a fluffy white towel and wore a floral housecoat. But not her teeth. These were still grinning at everyone in a glass of water beside the bed. She smiled knowingly at Heidi.
“Don’t you worry, child. I couldn’t help overhearing. Perhaps I can help to thank our savior here,” she said, winking at the woodcutter and puckering her lips. Her mouth formed an almost perfect star shape, causing the man’s eyes to sparkle. “Run along now, child,” said Granny to Heidi in dulcet tones. “I’ll be just fine with our hero here.”
The woodcutter, his gaze still fixed on Granny’s mouth, whistled under his breath. “We’ll be just fine!” he agreed, almost breathlessly.
Heidi threw up her arms. “Okay,” she said. “This is too fucked up for me. I’m outta here!”
As she grabbed her basket and headed towards the door, Granny stopped her.
“Heidi, dear? Before you go,” she said, “could you pass me one of those Moonpies on the table? There’s a sweetie. A few bites and I’ll soon have Big Boy here feeling right at home.” She winked at him again.
Heidi looked at the table, then at Granny, and then at the woodcutter, who appeared to have drifted off to his own little world. She slapped both hands to her mouth and turned her back to them. Leaning forward with one hand on the wall and the other holding her dress aside, she puked violently in the corner.
From outside, and as an accompaniment to the splattering, came a long, mournful howling. Through the remains of the window, a full moon could be seen, sitting on the distant horizon.
The End
* * *
BLOW FOR BLOW
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
As she scratched around her room, she was in no doubt that this was definitely the worst of times. Heidi looked forlornly into the ginger jar beside her bed, the one marked ‘Mary J’. A few crumbs and a single seed were all that remained in the bottom.
She sank down on the bed. Fucking Aunt Olga! she thought. She’s raided my damn stash again! Following the frivolities at Granny’s house earlier, Heidi was in desperate need of a joint, just to calm her nerves a little, you know? As you do.
Having had to deal with that mangy granny-eating dog, the Canadian pillow-biting lumberjack and those little pricks at the underpass, who had been mysteriously absent on her return, she definitely needed a hit. But the cookie jar was empty.
She looked at the screen on her iPhone. It was Thursday.
Shit! she thought. Social Security doesn’t pay till Monday. A whole weekend without blow? Her shoulders sagged. There was nothing for it, she’d have to visit Brian for a favor. Again.
Brian had managed to get himself a cool pad on Mariposa Drive where all the nobs lived. Not surprising, he single-handedly ran the whole blow scene on the East Side. If you needed blow, Brian was your man. If you went anywhere else, he was still your man, except, without the . . . niceties.
Brian didn’t take too well to nonces invading his turf. And, like all errant turf everywhere, he soon whacked them down to size. There was many a body floating upright in the Hudson river, weighed down only by a small concrete block which they had inherited by one of Brian’s ‘helpers’ as a form of farewell gift. News like this soon gets around. Nobody fucked with Brian. Nobody. At least . . . not for very long.
Brian was sitting behind his desk counting the previous night’s ‘acquisitions’ when the gate buzzer rang. He looked at the monitor on the wall and smiled.
Ah, now there’s a sight for sore eyes, he thought as he pushed the button. The gates swung open and Heidi walked up the driveway. Even on a small black and white screen, her long legs and swaying chest were breathtakingly beautiful. He watched her all the way until she vanished from view under the awning to the front entrance, where another camera, this one in full color, picked her up. It had been placed at such an angle that it looked down on any visitors. It afforded Brian an unprecedented view down Heidi’s shirt, the contents of which were straining its buttons to their limits. Fuck me! he whispered. That has got to be the best rack on the whole damn planet!
He pushed the intercom button. “Hey girl. Whassup? Come on in. You know where I am.”
He watched as she opened the door and closed it behind her then sat back and listened. Even though the room was almost soundproof, he could discern the click click of her heels on the marble staircase. When the sound stopped – indicating she was now on the carpeted area, he pressed another button and the door to the room clicked open. Brian felt his pulse quicken as he anticipated Heidi’s entrance.
Heidi gripped the handle and pushed open the door. Brian was sitting behind his desk. He stood up when she entered the room and beckoned to her.
“Hey! Long time no see,” he said cheerfully. “Come on in and make yourself comfortable,” he added, not indicating any particular location.
Heidi took a quick glance around the room. It was as she remembered it from last time as far as she could recall. That had been a few months ago now. Her treacherous memory replayed their last meeting in her mind. She had been at the “Pink Pussycat” club on a Thursday night instead of her usual Friday or Saturday nights, or both. And it was while she had been ‘powdering her nose’ in the Ladies’ Room that the boys in blue had kicked down the front door.