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Friday, December 27, 2013

The Adventures of Wonderslut, New Year's edition

’Twas the night before New Year’s and a great excuse for a party.  Felicity would have to assume her mild-mannered orchid hybridizer persona as she did every year when she hosted her annual bash for the local merchants.  Things usually got good and happy with a little help from the contents of the punch bowl.  This year, she had some of Ma's herbs.  She'd only used a tiny dose to spice things up.  After all, this was a trial run to study the effects on people so she could use the potions to their best effect in her work.  Plus, it'd be a lot of fun.

She glanced around the display and sales areas of the orchid house.  The caterers and decorators had done a fabulous job this year.  Cloth covered tables held platters of delicacies.  Cheeses, sliced ham, caviar.  Chocolate gushed from a fountain, surrounded with bowls of pound cake and fruit for dipping.

The stuffed mushrooms were the key.  She'd mixed Ma's herbs into the bread crumbs before she'd broiled them herself.  She could compare people who ate them with people who only imbibed the alcohol-laced punch for a more or less systematic measure of the horniness power of Ma's magic.  And she had one particular experimental rat in mind.

Jay sauntered in, dressed in his gosh-golly, young computer geek costume.  Jeans with torn knees, a t-shirt from the nearby university, and a sideways baseball cap.  One would never guess by looking at him that below the various fabrics lay the world's greatest fucking machine...the Piston of Love.

"It all looks great, Lys," he said.  "The orchids make it really special."

Her precious flowers showed their blooms proudly all around the room.  In all shades of purple, orange, yellow, and red, they filled the area with enough color to steal a normal person's breath.  Her work as Wonderslut kept her away from the plants for too long.  She needed to make a New Year’s resolution to spend more time in the nursery.

The bell went off over the greenhouse door, announcing their first guest.  Mr. Rossi, the bread baker from down the street, appeared with one of his beautiful loaves under his arm.  He handed it to Felicity and grasped her face to plant a kiss on each cheek.  “Ciao, cara mia.  You are as beautiful as always."

That was a bit of a stretch, given her ill-filling clothes, lack of make-up, and the bun at the back of her head, but Mr. Rossi treated all women as if they were royalty.

"Ciao right back," she said.  "So glad you came."

"Would not miss," Mr. Rossi said.  "And here's the fine young man."

"Hi, Mr. R.," Jay chirped.

"Help yourself to everything," Felicity said.  "Be sure to try the mushrooms."

"Atsa nice."  Mr. Rossi headed off toward the buffet tables.

The bell rang again, and more people entered.  The nice, older couple who ran the hardware store.  A bite or two of the mushrooms could spark up their new year.  The young widow who owned the Cake Shoppe arrived with them.  If she got into the herbs, Jay could probably scratch whatever itches she had if one of the other guests didn’t get there first.  It’d be a good thing for her to start the year off getting laid.

Yes, it should be a memorable evening for everyone.  Felicity certainly did her civic duty with this party every New Year’s Eve.

The newcomers, the Hendersons and Sally Rohl, stopped by to greet Felicity and Jay.  Sally might already be showing some interest in Jay.  He did his usual innocent routine, but that could change as the evening went on.

One of the caterers wandered by, and Felicity handed over the loaf of Mr. Rossi's bread.  "Slice this and put it on the table with some of that special cheese."

The woman nodded and head off toward the kitchen in the back.

More guests arrived, each wishing Felicity and Jay happy holidays.  Pretty soon, glasses were clinking, and conversation filled the orchid house.  The mushrooms were disappearing as fast as the caviar, and Felicity did a little mental arithmetic about how long the herbs would take to have an effect.  People ought to get happy pretty soon.

The bell rang again.

"Uh-oh, look who’s here," Jay said.

Hiram Jacko, the experimental rat, and his wife had arrived.  Jacko glanced around with his usual imperious air, while his better half, Phyllis, wore her usual empty smile and stare.

"I can't believe he came," Jay said.

"I invited him," Felicity said.

Jay's jaw dropped.  "You did?"

"What better subject for my experiment?"

"Jacko?"

"Of course."  Jacko owned and operated the local Values Emporium in the strip mall across the street.  It sold all kinds of treacle for helping to assure that no one ever had any fun.  Especially young people, who if left to their own devices, might think up new and creative ways of having fun.  Horror!  The values folks couldn’t have that.  So they sold tracts on morality and classic works of literature with all the juicy parts cut out.  It was a wonder William Shakespeare didn’t haunt the store for all the damage they’d done to some of his work.

Jacko loved to deliver lectures on morality and the general lack thereof in today’s society.  So far, Felicity's masquerade as a meek orchid nurserywoman had held up under his scrutiny, but she'd thought she'd caught a lecherous glare from Jacko on occasion.  If he was truly the upstanding citizen he claimed to be, he'd resist any evil impulses created by Ma's herbs and keep himself only unto his wife.  If he was actually the leering creep she suspected, he'd probably get one of the female guests alone in a corner of the greenhouse before the evening had ended.

"What about his wife?" Jay asked.

"What about her?"

"Does she always have that same empty stare and mechanical smile?"

"Wouldn't you if you were married to Jacko?" she said.

Jay shrugged.  "I guess."

"Go get another tray of the mushrooms from the kitchen," she said.  "Let's get ready to rumble."

Felicity went to the buffet table and poured herself a generous glass of punch.  Sipping, she glanced around at her guests.  Someone had turned on the stereo and found her favorite Marvin Gaye album.  A few people had already commandeered the center of the sales area as a dance floor, and bodies twined around each other, moving to the music.  Mr. Rossi had found Sally and was twirling her around and bending her over his arm.  The Hendersons danced more demurely, but the sparkle in Joe's eyes promised Mary would have a very happy New Year’s Eve, indeed.  With a some luck and a little help from Ma, Joe might carry on well into the new year.

More and more of the locals had filled the greenhouse.  Felicity’s party was legendary in this part of town, and she never asked to see invitations.  If you could fit inside, you were welcome.  As a result of having such a large crowd, people could get lost in the crush.  Hands could travel to interesting places between partners on the dance floor, and no one would notice.  The din of music and conversation could cover noises coming from dark corners.  If anyone came in non-orgasmic, they only had themselves to blame for leaving in the same state.

A rather alarming sound came from an area behind her, though.  A woman saying “No” with more than a little fear in her tone.  Anything consensual flew here, but coercion was a major no-no.  Wonderslut could handle the situation easily, but Felicity didn’t have time to change, and Wonderslut couldn’t be seen anywhere near Felicity Plumswindle for fear someone would put the two of them together.  Felicity would have to take charge here, and she set down her glass and went off to do exactly that.

As she might have predicted, the culprit was the self-appointed arbiter of “values.”  Jacko had cornered Cara Simpson, the greengrocer’s wife, and had her pinned against a bench full of flowering cattleyas.  He’d puckered his lips in a perfectly gross imitation of an attempt at a kiss, and Cara had placed her palm against his chest to hold him off.  Cara had bent so far backward to get away from him her face nearly disappeared among the blossoms.

“Mr. Jacko, what are you doing?” Felicity said.

He glanced over his shoulder at her.  “Everyone knows what goes on at your parties.  Why shouldn’t I have a little fun?”

“Maybe because a, your wife is only on the other side of those vandas, and b, Mrs. Simpson clearly isn’t that into you,” Felicity said.

“Rubbish,” he declared and went right back to his attempts to impose himself on his victim.

“All right.  I hate to have to do this.”  Felicity grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.  Not exactly the sort of move an unassuming orchid grower would ever attempt.  “Cut it out, asshole.”

He straightened.  “Why, Miss Plumswindle.  You’re an animal.”

Cara Simpson very wisely used the distraction to make her retreat, which left Felicity alone with a values cop she’d just called asshole.  A horny values cop.

“I’m glad you invited me to this den of depravity,” Jacko said.  “It gives me an opportunity to perform an exorcism, of sorts.”

“Exorcism?”

“Evil, Miss Plumswindle.”  The man got so close he nearly stood on top of her, and she found herself bending backward as Cara had.  Like Cara’s head, hers ended up among the flowers.

“I intend to burn it out of you with the flames from inside my soul,” he went on.  “Flames, do you hear me?”

“Sorry about the heartburn,” she said.  “There’s a fire extinguisher around here somewhere.”

“Rise above the lust,” he declared, pulling her against him.  Something had risen, all right.  It pressed into her belly.  Not impressive in size, but definitely hard.  “Break free from your base nature.”

“I’ll break free from something, all right.”  She hooked a leg around him, caught his knee from behind, and kicked, knocking him onto the floor.  Bending over him, she waved a finger under his nose.  “Now, listen, creep…”

The creep had the presence of mind to grab her hand and pull her down onto him, and in a moment, the two of them were rolling around on the floor, the gravel of the walkway crunching beneath them.

“Hiram!” a voice called out in tones worthy of a Valkyrie.

Jacko stopped wrestling with Felicity and stared upward.  “Phyllis?”

“You’ve been a very naughty boy,” Mrs. Jacko said.  She’d lost the glaze over her eyes, and the smile that usually accompanied it was long gone.  With her height and stout form, she did resemble a Wagnerian lady in a horned hat, and the pile of blonde hair on the top of her head enhanced the effect.

Jacko scrambled out from under Felicity and stood with his hands by his sides, his head hanging down.  “I have been bad, my lady.”

Well, well, well.  Mr. Morality was into kink, and his lady love appeared ready and able to deliver whatever cranked his tractor.  Perhaps she’d gotten into the mushrooms, too.  Whatever the cause, she could keep her husband out of trouble and his hands off the other guests.  In the meantime, Felicity had learned what she’d wanted to know.  The guy was a pervert.

Now, when she used the P word, she didn’t mean someone who enjoyed unusual sexual activities.  Who didn’t?  No, a pervert preyed on other people for their own satisfaction.  Armed with this information, Wonderslut would have to take some action in the new year.  This was a nice neighborhood, and it didn’t need the likes of Hiram Jacko messing things up.

While Felicity had been figuring all that out, the pervert in question had unzipped his pants and dropped trou, and his wife stood with his belt in her hand, slapping the leather against her other palm.  When Jacko moved to bend over the bench full of cattleyas, Felicity dashed to snatch the plants away.  They’d been through enough already.

After she’d stashed the orchids safely under a nearby table, she straightened in time to watch Mrs. Jacko lift the belt and bring it down with a satisfying “thwap” against her husband’s naked buttocks.  His hands were out of sight under the bench, and if she ducked under there, she’d probably get a good view of him spanking the monkey.  She’d pass on the pleasure.  Instead, she left them to their fun.  She had some responsibility for their level of horniness, after all.

Back out in the main party area, the night was progressing nicely.  The Hendersons still danced together, wrapped in each other’s arms.  Sally and Mr. Rossi emerged from another area of the greenhouse.  They appeared disheveled, and Sally’s lipstick was smeared all over both of their faces.  She wouldn’t need Jay’s services, after all.

Both Sally and Mr. Rossi baked for a living, so you might consider them businesses competitors.  That didn’t keep them from walking arm in arm out the door, deep in conversation.  Probably something about yeast.

And when you got right down to it, yeast was a pretty good analogy for the upcoming year.  It’d take a while to ferment, and then you’d have to punch it down a bit around March and let it rise to its full height in summer.  You’d bake it in fall and enjoy the harvest, and the whole cycle would start again once you’d eaten it all.

Well, yeah, as analogies, that one sucked, and she hadn’t even eaten any of the mushrooms.  She’d better go off and do exactly that, washing them down with more punch.  Then, she’d find Jay and ring in the new year with a bang.

Happy New Year from Felicity, Jay, and Alice, the twisted mind behind The Adventures of Wonderslut.