Throat Wolf's Stories

Status Quo

2008-04-02T02:26:35Z

It was Saturday before I did anything with Cindy Lou again. I was almost hesitant to bring her out; I wasn’t sure I felt up to facing her again. But I knew that if I came up with an excuse now, I’d only do so again in the future, and she’d never get to come out at all.

But it went better this time. The last few days had given us time to get any residual sulkiness out of my system (I would normally say “our systems,” but, well…) and we actually hit it off pretty well. We were able to talk about all the things we had in common—which turned out to be more than I thought.

The next weekend went just as well, and the next—though also just as platonically. But still, I was actually starting to like the situation. I had a girl I could date whenever I wanted, without having to worry about her making demands on my time. And I wouldn’t have to worry about her running around on me if I didn’t ask her out.

Although, admittedly, “ask her out” took on a slightly different meaning in this context.

Not Just Something I Ate

2008-04-01T23:21:11Z

We stood in my bedroom, facing each other. She was undoing the buttons on her shirt, not looking at me. I was trying not to look at her. At last, once her clothes were off, she came up close to me and whispered in my ear.

“I agreed to your terms,” she said. “I’m giving myself to you. But I need to ask something of you.”

“Uh-huh?” I asked, trying not to look at her nakedness.

“Take good care of me? Let me out every so often…I know, you don’t have to, but I’d kind of like it.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“And don’t forget about me. Don’t talk yourself into thinking I’m just ‘something you ate.’”

I snorted. “I doubt that’ll happen at this point.”

“And…one more thing.” She leaned in closer.

“Y…es?”

“Try not to eat too much spicy food? Capsicum doesn’t break down in your stomach, so I get to taste it all the way down.” And then she kissed me.

The kiss went on for a good ten seconds or so before she even started to bring herself inside.

An Evening on the Town

2008-04-01T22:51:28Z

Since she was out, she got dressed and we went and saw a movie. I don’t even remember which one. I think it had Ben Affleck in it.

After that, we went for a snack at a small cafe near the theater. Neither one of us was speaking much. She seemed to be trying to decide how to deal with the change in our relationship. I was trying to decide how I felt about her.

It’s true, she was cute—and still at least a little mysterious. But a lot of the mystery was gone…especially now that I remembered the girl who used to tag along behind me during my senior year in high school, with that purple notebook. I’d thought of her as a bit of a pest.

It was still hard to believe how much she’d changed since then. Maybe part of it was she was taking better care of herself; her hair was better, and her skin wasn’t wall-to-wall acne anymore. Maybe spending most of her time as intestinal bacteria just agreed with her.

I paid the check, and we headed back to my place. It was time for Cindy Lou to go back to work.

Golden Duet

2008-03-31T01:51:22Z

“Find her? How would we do that?”

“We sing to her,” Ligeia said.

“But if we don’t know where she is—” I began.

“Our song will find her. It’s a magic thing.” She shrugged. “I’ve been trying to do it for both of you for years, but something’s been blocking me from her—and your amnesia kept you from hearing me. But now that we’re together, maybe the combined strength of our song can punch through to her.”

“Well, I’m game if you are. But I don’t think I know the words to any of your songs.”

She smiled. “We don’t need known words. We sing from our heart, and the words come.”

“Handy.”

“Indeed. Shall we begin?”

I nodded, and she closed her eyes and began to sing. A breeze stirred her hair, and the words had a deeper resonance than a mere voice could provide. It was as if there was a choir of voices singing with her, very far away.

She completed a verse, and nodded at me. I opened my mouth, unsure what to say—then the words began to come. I joined my voice to hers, and together we sang.

Bad Girls Finish Their Snack

2008-03-31T01:11:22Z

“What’re you—omigod—ohhhh…” The girl’s eyes unfocused, and she turned her attention back to her partner. Contact pheromones in my saliva? Emma wondered. The boy didn’t need much encouragement either, and they were already deep into each other as their waists passed her lips. As she swallowed, pulling them deeper, her throat muscles squeezed them together even more tightly.

Emma reached up to their shoulders and pushed them further down into her. She was licking their backs, then their necks, then their heads, then her lips closed over them and another swallow and they were gone. She began to feel the special ecstasy that their activity inside her produced in her—and the urge to find someone else to share it with. She slipped back into the party to find an eligible boy.

—

A few minutes later, Emma lay alone in the bed after the boy had pleased her first with a small part of his body, and then with the entire thing. At she’d been able to take her time with this one.

“Three down…half a party to go.”

Bad Girls Stop for a Snack

2008-03-31T00:57:57Z

The party was really jumping, and Emma was everywhere in it, providing a touch here, a kiss there, a caress here, nudging pairs of single people together, and sometimes taking a turn herself. The pheromones hung so thick and heavy in the air they were almost as visible as the layer of smoke from the cigarettes.

Slipping out of the main room, Emma came upon a bedroom where a boy and a girl had gotten away from the rest of the party. They’d so rumpled up the bed that the blankets had come untucked, and four bare feet were dangling off the end of the bed.

Emma chuckled, and knelt down to bring the feet to the level of her mouth. Then she opened wide and pulled all four of the feet in.

The lovers didn’t seem to notice anything until she got up to their knees. Then they looked up from what they were doing and the girl gave a little shriek. “What’re you doing!”

Emma grabbed her flailing hand, and one of the boy’s, and tugged them upright above her so gravity could do the work.

Down they came.

Down to Me, the Change Has Come

2008-03-30T23:44:07Z

On the one hand, it was really really weird having another person living in my gut, especially if that other person was normally a cute girl who I wouldn’t have minded going out with, and who harbored a crush on me. And it was true she hadn’t been entirely honest with me.

But on the other hand, I couldn’t deny that my appetite had been better since having her, and I hadn’t been pained by indigestion or other, ahem, gastro-intestinal disfortitude. And if it was true what she said about the ulcer…

I turned back around. “All right, you can stay, but on conditions.”

“All right?” she said.

“When you’re inside my body, you do what I say, understand? Whether I want you to come out every night, or stay in for a whole year.”

She nodded. “All right.”

“And no more gas, got it?”

“Not even if you learn Morse code?”

“Not even then.”

She sighed. “Well…all right. I accept your conditions.”

For a moment, I could have sworn I heard an old Rolling Stones song. She’s under my thumb—the girl who once had me down…

No Quid Pro Quo for Cindy Lou

2008-03-30T23:29:13Z

“So…” I prompted.

Cindy Lou sighed. “I went into the program like I said, for the reasons that I said. But…when I saw you come into the restaurant, I couldn’t resist. The chance to be so near you all the time, without having to admit…well, it was too good to pass up.”

“And all the stuff about staying in for a whole month?”

“I thought I’d let you…get used to me for a while. So you’d be more likely to let me stay.”

“And you still want to stay, even now?”

“Well—yes.”

“Why? I’m sure you could find someone else you’d be just as suited to.”

“Well—I like you. You’re comfortable. And you really do need my help, you’ve got the beginning of an ulcer that I can help take care of.”

“Yeah, well, the markets suck right now,” I mumbled.

“Please let me stay?” She looked up. “I’ll do anything. Even—” She looked at the bed.

I saw where she was looking. “No, not that. Not if you’re thinking quid pro quo. Then it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then what?”

I shook my head and turned away. “I need to think it over.”

Cindy Lou Comes Cleaner

2008-03-29T01:33:03Z

She came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, in the towel again, and light makeup. I had no idea where she got the makeup—but compared to the fact that she was capable of turning into a blob of bacteria and spending weeks inside my gut, it seemed like a minor mystery.

“So,” I said.

“Well, this came as a surprise,” she said. “I hadn’t expected to see you for another month.” It looked like she’d composed herself in the shower. I decided to pretend I didn’t notice.

“So, why me?”

“Pardon?”

“What’s so special about me that you don’t want to find somebody else?”

“I don’t know what you—”

“You want back in? Truth, please.”

She sighed, looked down, and mumbled something.

“Sorry?”

“I said, I’ve had a crush on you since high school.”

I blinked. “I don’t remember you—”

“Mousy little girl, freshman when you were a senior?”

I blinked. “Wait…that was you? With the purple notebook?”

She nodded.

I said the first thing that came into my head. “You sure have changed.”

She snorted. “Gee, ya think?”

Cindy Lou Comes Clean

2008-03-27T02:03:45Z

Cindy Lou started to push her way out, so I clenched and helped her. A few moments later, she was standing in the tub. I turned to face her. “So what was that about dying, huh?”

Cindy glared for a moment, then looked down. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I was just…afraid you wouldn’t let me back in.”

“When were you planning to tell me the truth?”

“I meant to tell you after the date,” Cindy Lou said. “I just…didn’t want to have to admit I’d lied.”

I sighed. It was hard to stay angry with her. “Anything else you weren’t quite accurate about, while we’re here?

“Well…I actually don’t have to come out once every thirty days.” She hesitated. “I can come out as often as I want, or stay in as long as I want.” She looked up at me, and the words came out in a rush. “Please let me back in? I won’t be any trouble, I promise! I won’t make you fart anymore, and I’ll never come out at all unless you want me to. You won’t even know I’m there.”

I sighed, and turned to go. “Get showered. I’ll think about it.”

Cindy, Will You Come Out Tonight

2008-03-26T03:06:13Z

“Doctor Voor, out of curiosity, do you have a, ah, ‘Tummy Buddy’ yourself?”

“No—not yet,” Voor said. “I need to keep my objectivity.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Well, thanks for the info. I’ll call if I have any more questions.” I headed for the door.

“You’re welcome. Oh! Would you mind signing a HIPAA release? We need your medical history.”

“I’ll think about it.” But not too hard. I got out of there fast, but stopped at a drugstore on the way home.

I’d learned more than I bargained for at the doctor’s office. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach—but the sinking feeling wasn’t mine.

I looked down. “Will you please cut that out?” The sinking feeling stopped. “Thanks.”

When I got home, I went into the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the tub. “Get out here, please. We need to talk.”

Nothing.

“I don’t want to do this; it’ll hurt me more than it’ll hurt you.” I unwrapped the box from the drugstore. “But I’ve got a bottle of Maximum Strength Dulcolax, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

The Truth About Tummy Buddies

2008-03-25T22:39:29Z

Dr. Voor chuckled. “Oh ho, I begin to see. She told you that when she first…emerged, hmm? To make sure you’d let her back in?” He nodded. “I suppose you were disinclined to do so.”

“Uh…yeah,” I said. “So…they don’t have to stay in the host or die?”

“Oh, goodness no. They can still pass for completely human for as long as they like; they can even carry Tummy Buddies themselves.” Dr. Voor offered me a sheet of paper from his desk. “I’ve been working on this brochure, which you might find helpful.”

I glanced at the title: “Your Tummy Buddy and You.” Then I looked down at my belly. “Can’t stay out too long or you’ll die, huh? Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about—wait.” I suddenly thought better of the question. “Don’t answer that. In fact, don’t answer any questions at all, understand?”

PFFFRRRRRT !

I whimpered and coughed. “There has to be a better way to communicate!”

“A better way? Oh, of course there is,” Dr. Voor said.

“There is? What is it?”

“Well…do you know Morse Code?”

The Secret Life of the Tummy Buddy

2008-03-25T04:20:50Z

“But…what about the Tum—ahem, the GaIAs?” I asked. “Don’t they get, um…bored, with nothing to do down there except slosh around?”

“Bored?” said Voor. “Oh, by no means. They can listen to what goes on outside—can’t you, Cindy Lou?”

PFFFRRRRRT !

I glared, fanning my hand in front of my face. “Stop that!”

“—and they can also choose to enter into a state analogous to Rapid Eye Movement sleep—except, of course, they don’t have eyes in that form. They have pseudopods, but you can’t make a decent acronym out of Rapid Pseudo—”

“So they just…sleep? And dream?”

“It’s more a sort of semi-sleep; they’re still processing food and managing other functions as well. But close enough for government work.”

I frowned. “And they just…have to stay inside all the time, or they die? That doesn’t sound like much of a life to me.”

Voor raised an eyebrow. “Stay inside or they die? Who on earth told you that?”

I slowly looked down at my stomach. It gurgled in a way that I could almost swear sounded like, “Uh-oh, busted.“

Tummy Buddies Fight World Hunger!

2008-03-25T00:27:37Z

“So…um…I wanted to know more about, uh, GaIAs. You know, care and feeding, that sort of thing?”

Dr. Voor seated himself behind his desk and steepled his fingers. “Ah, the GaIA. That name will do for now, but I want to find something more…cuddly before we go on the market. ‘Tummy Buddy’ seems to be the frontrunner.”

“Uh…yeah.”

“But think of it!” Voor went on. “If half the world’s population becomes Tummy Buddies for the other half, suddenly our resources will stretch twice as far! Well, all right, food maybe one and a half times as far, since they do still need some excess nourishment, but still.”

“Um…”

“But even on a smaller scale, think how much easier it will make famine relief efforts,” Voor went on. “We send a lab truck with the UN relief convoys, convert half the population, and not only will the relief food go farther, the Tummy Buddies will prevent dysentery. It’s win-win.”

“I dunno, I think the idea might be just a bit of a hard sell,” I said.

“Ah, but that’s where marketing comes in.”

Classical Gas

2008-03-24T23:10:30Z

The doctor came around the desk. He was a nondescript little man, with the kind of face that makes it hard to guess age. Late forties, early fifties maybe. Mousy brown hair, clean-shaven, wire-rimmed glasses, hazel eyes. He noticed where I was looking. “Ah, yes. Never too early to think about marketing, you know.”

“Marketing…yes,” I said.

“And hello! Thanks for stopping in. You would be the host for our Miss Cindy Lou Staples!” He leaned forward, putting his head close to my stomach, and raised his voice. “HELLO in there, Cindy! Is everything all right with you?” To my embarrassment, I suddenly passed gas—loud and long. He chuckled at my expression. “Don’t be alarmed. It’s one long for ‘yes,’ two short for ‘no.’”

“Uh…” I flailed desperately for some way to redirect the conversation back toward sanity. “How’d you know about her?”

“We keep track of who all our subjects leave with. CCTV cameras in the ceiling, and I review the tapes personally. Won’t you have a seat?”

I sat. What else could I do?