Alright, let’s seeee heeeere ... Got the seasonings, ketchup, honey mustard, tonight’s dinner, scented candles, my cherry almond lotion that I love so much because it’s the best lotion flavor to ever exist in the history of ever, I’ve got desserts, my wine, aaaand I think that should do- waaait, still gotta get the forks. That would’ve been problematic.

I head over to the cutlery aisle and just my luck, I’m getting the last one. I reach over to grab it and add it to my collection, but as I do, I notice a woman approaching, eyeing the box of forks. So I immediately snatch it from its post and place it in my cart. Speed is everything. Surely, she’ll understand. She walks up to me, smiling before saying,

“Ah, dang it. Guess I should’ve gotten the vase last.”

“Yeah, I guess you should have,” I reply, “Otherwise, you would’ve had these in your possession instead. But that’s not what’s going on, is it? No, I got here first and now they’re mine.”

“Uh ... yeah. That’s how it works. 9/10s of the law and whatnot, I guess.”

“Yup. Guess it’s gonna be quite a while before they restock. Maybe you can manage your time more wisely before you let those slip through your fingers, too.”

“Hopefully. Forks are kinda essential for the table. You know what else is?”

“What’s that?”

“Manners, you douche.”

Ok, wow. Crazy how your mind can just play tricks on you like that. I mean, there’s no way she actually said that to me.

“Excuse me?” I ask, giving her the opportunity to correct this error,

“You heard me,” she replies, “Like, congratulations. You got the last box of shitty, flimsy, plastic forks that don’t really do their job that well. What, you want a cookie?”

“Did you really just suggest that I don’t have any manners not five seconds ago, only to display lack of manners within yourself, madam? Hypocrisy is an ugly color, you know?”

“First, the expression is ‘Jealousy is an ugly color’. But I should’ve guessed that intelligence isn’t your strong suit. Secondly, you can’t be that much of a pompous prick without someone having something to say about it. It’s not cool, dude.”

“Oh, and it’s ‘cool’ to just skip over the fact that I was only joking? Someone needs to loosen up a bit. Which is kinda surprising. The way you carry yourself, I would’ve guessed that you were all too familiar with the concept of ‘loosening up’.”

“Wow, you must be the life of parties. I mean, the ladies have gotta be crazy about you.”

“You see, you’re being sarcastic, but you couldn’t be more accurate. I’ve got so many chicks on my jock that I had to get divorced in order to really enjoy them all. And parties are kinda like my second house.”

“Really? You’re seriously doing this right now?”

Oh, she’s one of those. That explains everything. Well, luckily for her, I’m in a generous mood.

“Yeah, go ahead and act like you aren’t interested in that lifestyle,” I say, seeing through her facade, “I can read girls like you like a book. You’re so predictable. You watch a few movies that involve the quirky outcast girl and model yourselves after them. Doesn’t work like that in the real world. Now, since you caught me on a good day, I can show you what life outside of fantasy land is really like. And, who knows? Maybe one thing leads to another and you can be one of my regulars. You’re not that bad looking, so play your cards right, you can set your name down for Mondays. Fair warning, I’m someone who likes it freaky. If you think you’re not into that, don’t worry. I’ll show you that you are.”

She just looks at me, considering the opportunity of the lifetime in front of her. I don’t blame her. There’s a lot to consider. She’s probably thinking of how she can bump it up to Friday. I mean, I’m not gonna say it’s impossible, bu-

“Gee, mister,” she starts, “I’ve never had someone be that thorough with me before. You’ve got me all figured out. Such a dissection of my character, and you’ve only spoken to me for two minutes. How could you possibly be able to gather that much attention from someone in that amount of time.”

“It’s a gift. You either got it or you don’t.”

“Woooow. Well, I’ve got a trick of my own.”

“I’m sure you do. But if you’re not gonna answ-”

“It involves the sight of unspoken tones

You say you see those that aren’t said

But what about those that are meant for the dead?

For, behind closed doors are information for the sneaky

Which is why you should be wary when you traverse minds that are freaky

So I give to you the sip of knowledge

Of what goes on in the lives of the NEET, the housewife, and the one who should be preparing for college.

Drink up, you son of a bitch.”

She then gives me a slap across my face, causing an echo of the impact to be heard around the store before walking off. Now, while she should spend a bit more time in her poetry class, I will admit that she sure packs a wallop. Good Lord. But something else catches my attention. Was her hand ... glowing? Was I just slapped with glitter? Whatever. Her loss. Bright side, I’ve got an interesting story.

I head over to purchase my things and head to my car. As I make my way home, the previous event starts playing in my head again. What the hell was that girl on? She could not have been sobre. I mean, “The sight of unspoken tones”? What does that even mean? Bullet dodged, I guess. I’ve learned my lesson about sticking my dick in crazy.

I make it home and put my things away, sniffing my candles and the greatest flavor combination for lotion to ever be conceived. But after setting down my pizza to preheat the oven, I get an overwhelming sense of drowsiness coursing throughout my body. My arms are getting heavy, my balance is shot, and my vision’s blurry. What is going on? I slept a full eight hours.

I head to my couch, sitting down on it. Ok, since I can’t possibly function with all of this going on, I guess I’ll take a quick power nap. But no more than a half hour. I try to reach into my pocket to pull out my phone and set the timer, but my arm’s not moving. I try moving it more, but nothing’s happening. I then notice that my entire arm is suspended above me. Wait, no. Both of my arms are above me. And I can’t move my legs. And ... am I ... naked? Am I dreaming?

As I have that thought, I’m suddenly introduced to a blinding light. After adjusting to the brightness, I try asking who’s there and what they’re going to do to me, but I immediately discover that my mouth’s been taped. What’s happening?! I then hear a familiar voice giggling. No. Not her. Why? I thought I got rid of you! I look to the source of the noise and, sure enough, it’s Ashley in the flesh. What do I need to do to get the hell away from you?!

“Well, hello, there, my sweet baby boy,” she starts, “So I’ve been thinking and you’re right. It’s only natural for this to happen.”

What the hell is she talking about? I haven’t said a single word to her in years.

“I mean, I can’t say I haven’t had the thought,” she continues, walking towards me, “Intrusive thoughts are a hell of a drug as I’m sure you’re aware. Plus, this happens all the time. And I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. With all the time that you’ve spent with me, the jealousy you’ve displayed towards your father, the lack of a girlfriend, it all just seems so blatant now. Makes me feel silly for not seeing it.”

Ok, she’s obviously lost it. Where am I? How did I- ... Hang on, I know that poster. That’s the vintage signed Russel Wilson poster that I got for William for his sixteenth birthday. And that’s his manga collection. And that’s his collection of games. All in the same exact places that I saw them last. Why am I in William’s room? My thoughts are interrupted as I feel Ashley sit on my lap, straddling me.

“So let me give you what you’ve been wanting for so long,” she continues, bringing her hands to my bare chest and slowly leaning down, “I wish you told me that you wanted this last week so that I would’ve given you the best birthday gift you could’ve asked for, but this’ll have to do. Consider this a late birthday gift.”

She gives me a small kiss on the nose before giggling and slowly moving her hips, grinding her dripping wet pussy on my exposed growing shaft.

“Ooo,” she coos, maintaining her slow pace, “It seems someone’s excited to receive their late gift, huh? Well, how about I really show you what you’re in for?”

She stops grinding before planting a kiss on my cheek and trailing down to my neck, to my chest, to my stomach, to my abdomen, and finally stopping at my crotch. She looks up at me as she inches her mouth closer to my hard shaft. Why am I hard? Why don’t I hate this? And ... why am I getting so lost in her adorable ocean blue eyes?

I can feel her warm light breath on my length as she continues teasing me. But once she’s millimeters away from it, she grins at me before giggling and saying,

“Is this what you wanted, baby boy? You want dear ol’ mommy to take you into her mouth? It’s a bit too soon, don’t you think? There’s plenty of things to do before any of that, sweetie.”

What does she mean? She slithers off of the bed and reaches down, digging around in a bag for something. My mind is just scrambled, trying to piece together what the hell is actually happening right now. She answers some of my inner questions, pulling out a candle, a lighter, two suction cups, an ice tray, a collar and leash, and a vibrator.

What the fuck? I’m not into this. I hated when she even suggested we do this. It’s why we broke up. This is way too freaky for me. So why am I getting more excited the more I look at everything?

“Looks like you can’t wait to get started, honey,” she says with a giggle as she grabs the candle and ignites it with the lighter before placing it on the nightstand.

I try voicing my disapproval through the tape, hoping that she’ll get the hint that I don’t want any of this. But she brings a hand to my already covered lips, saying in a low seductive tone,

“Shh. I know, baby. So let mommy take care of you, Willie.”

William? Wha- ... What kind of sick, twisted, disgusting thoughts travel in her head? What kind of roleplaying has she been wanting me to act out? She interrupts my confused thoughts by applying the suction cups on my chest, covering my nipples before twisting them. It’s not so bad at first, but after moments of them being attached to me, I feel them pulling away at my chest. It’s so uncomfortable. I try squirming to get them off of me, but that’s only making it worse. I hate this. But why does my body like it?!

“Yeah, baby, squirm for mommy,” Ashley taunts, bringing an ice cube to my chest, circling the suction cups, “You like that, huh? This is what you wanted from mommy? Were you jealous of mommy trying these things out on everyone but you? Yeah, I know, baby. But you don’t have to worry about that anymore, do you?”

I can’t take much more of this. Between the discomfort of the suction cups and the freezing cold ice cube, I’d rather she just kill me. But for some reason, my body is just begging for more. Ashley grabs my shaft with her free hand, slowly stroking it as she hums her tune that she’d sing when we dated. She then giggles before finally taking the ice cube off of my body and popping it into her mouth, chewing it. What’s wrong with this woman?

She then grabs the candle, twirling it as if it were a cup of wine before leaning down and licking all around my body, trailing the crunched up ice all over me, making me squirm even more in discomfort. It’s so fucking cold. Why is it colder? She then brings the candle to my stomach, slowly dripping the wax along my torso.

I try screaming in agony, but for some reason, it’s coming out as a moan of pleasure. Why is my body betraying me like this?! It hurts so fucking much! But- ... but ... it hurts ... so ... good.

“Ooo, yeah,” she teases, trailing the drops of blistering hot candle wax along my body, “Moan for me, baby. Feel that hot candle wax all over your sexy little body. Yeah. Feels good, huh?”

She places the candle back on the nightstand before leaning in closer to my face, speeding up her strokes on my cock, whispering,

“Yes, baby. Let mommy know how good it feels. Yeah, you feel so good right now, don’t you? You like mommy doing all this to you? Hm? You like mommy making you so cold, then making you so hot? Almost makes you wanna cum right now, huh? Well, do it, baby. Cum for mommy right now. Coat her hand in your warm, tasty, creamy baby batter. Let me taste it. Yes. Yes. Yes. Do it, baby. Do it. Cum for me. Cum for me. Cum for me.”

I can’t help but to be enthralled in her demanding voice. Everything thus far has been surprisingly good. But her voice, her demands, her actions in general, it’s just putting me in a trance. I- ... I- ... I need to do what mommy says. I’m so close. I’m gonna give mommy exactly what she wants.