Some Druidic Discordians enter a community garden with a low budget camera crew, a burqabi priestess, and a body swaddled in saran wrap in a wheel barrow. It sounds like the start of a really bad horror movie, a too-esoteric-for-mundanes-joke, or the plot of a cheesy porn flick.
Well, I hate to break it to you, it's none of the above. I know, you had your hopes up for that last one, didn’t you? Well, you can keep your hand in your pants, there is sex in this story… A lot of it. (I hope).
“Hollis, hold the wheel barrow steady, you idiot. She’s tranced, I dropped her myself, now just get over here, we only booked the garden for five hours. We need to get this done!” Hammond chided.
“I don’t see why we can’t have done this in a church or somewhere indoors, these mosquitos are murdering me!”
“That’s what you get for wearing that disgusting cologne…” Gaines drawled as he came up the rear, closing the garden gate without looking up from his phone as he walked by Hollis struggling to push the wheelbarrow with the body in it.
Now I know what you’re thinking… It’s wrong. You may not believe me because I’m an unreliable narrator, but whatever you’re thinking… Is wrong. Okay back to the scene…
The wheelbarrow was pushed over the uneven earth to the flower quadrant of the garden, where there were two naked, elder transbians wearing flower crowns and drizzling flower petals into a very elaborate pentacle on the ground.
“Wait, there are only two of you?!”
“Yes. The triplets couldn’t show up, Tulip had hip surgery, Lilac had a date with a potential new sugar baby, some bitcoin evangelist or something, and well... Daffodil said she just flat out didn’t want to come. So you got us, I’m Petunia, and that’s Gladiolus.”
“How are we going to do this ritual with only two flower fluffers maidens?”
“Oy, how's about a thank you, you good-for-nothing sod, I’m freezin’ my silicone tits out here for this shindig. Because I care about Clara, We both care about Clara, and you… you...”
Gladiolus shambled forward toward the young druid, and then doubled over, holding her chest, and wheezing. Petunia shuffled over to place a hand on her back, “Oh, my Gladiolus, are you alright? Is it your pacemaker?”
The only reply was Gladiolus gripping Petunia’s arm and rasping out the word, “Ambulance.”
So, an hour later, the two flower “maidens” are escorted from the community garden in an ambulance, who upon request didn’t turn the siren on until they were at least a block away to avoid waking up the… well, the embryonic egg in her chrysalis… Clara (supposedly? >_>).
Now what’s a coven to do? No flower maidens, a partially decorated pentagram, and only a few more hours of uninterrupted time before the community garden is open to the public and any many a soul could wander into this, here, affair. Let us see what the Chaos Druids do next, we’ll find out after these messages
***
“Hooolllyyy Van Gogh! That’s cold!”
“Relax, you act like you’ve never taken lube up the ass before, Dewey.”
“Not cold, I haven't! A gentleman would warm it up first.”
“What, like, put it in the microwave? That doesn’t sound safe.”
“Ugh, can you be any more straight?”
“Hey, I don’t see any of your little better-than-me queer friends up at ass o’clock helping you with this…”
“That’s because they are probably in someone’s ass at this hour.”
“Well, my ass is only open to silicone dick just so that’s abundantly clear..”
“So you’re into pegging but not actual anal sex with a real dick?”
“That’s right. I’m open minded but I’m still straight.”
“So what if you fell in love with a trans woman who still had her dick, would you make her bottom all the time?”
“That’s different. She’s a woman, it’s girl-cock. I’m still straight if I get pegged by a girl-cock. And If she’s a woman why wouldn’t she want to bottom for me?”
“She could be a total top and still a woman.”
“How would you know anything about women?? You’re a guy into other guys.”
Dewey rolled his eyes, “Okay just help me up, I glued the stilettos to my feet.”
“Seriously?
“Yes seriously, many drag queens have done unspeakable things in the name of beauty and art, okay! Unspeakable! Just help me up!”
“Y'know I hear you say unspeakable but what you really mean is stupid.”
“What you say is stupid is what I call dedication.”
“Didn’t know dedication required a future ER visit to get the super glue off your foot and you probably ruined a good pair of shoes with that glue, not just your foot.”
Dewey blinked at his friend. “Shit, you’re right. Well, they were cheap and from three seasons ago.”
“Isn’t it a fashion thing that seasons come back around again or some shit?”
“Stop being gayer than me, Richmond!”
“Stop making it so easy, Dewey!”
At which point, both of them turn toward the camera, and say in unison, “Richmond Hays and Dewey Holcombe for Out of the Closet Productions. And we support this message!”
***
Now that we’ve had a word from our sponsors. Back to the ritual in progress…
Gaines and Hollis looked at each other, “You know what this means right? Three of us have to become flower maidens while the other three, uphold the ritual space and chant the spell of becoming,” Gaines drawled.
“Yeahhh,” Hollis said, then smirked, “Not it!” He exclaimed.
Two other voices exclaimed the same thing, and Gaines frowned. “Real mature.”
“So what flower are you going to be, Gaines-y? You look a little like a Gladiolus yourself.”
“That is a good point, two of us should maintain the floral energy that was here at the start, so sure, I’ll be Gladiolus, Murphy, you good to be Petunia?”
Murphy looked up at him, they were 6’4" and androgynously dressed. “I'm Murphy Neptune, one of the finest nonbinary porn stars to ever cum out of Jack Fap Studios, if there ever was one. I’m a Poet Laureate from Dhampir State University. I can handle anything placed in front of me, I’m a professional work of art, and artist dedicated to the work. And I am missing auditioning for the Pornographic Soap Opera: Analqueer Analqueen, to be here, so if you want me to be a Petunia, I will be a fucking Petunia, okay? Okay. So tell me where to stand and bloom and I'll fragrance the room with my elixir of life…” Murphy said with a grope down their front and a grasp of their parts between their legs.
Gaines rolled his eyes, “Okay Hamlet, no one asked for your soliloquy, just go stand in the north corner of the pentagram. Hollis, you, Hammond and Clarkwell get the music and move the subject to the center of the pentagram for the rebirthing ritual, please.”
Hollis, Clarkwell and Hammond looked at each other then all three of them took out hands and fists to rock, paper, scissors for who had to do what. Gaines rolled his eyes exasperatedly, “Oh, Come On!! We do not have time for this!!”
Now with a little over three hours remaining for this ritual, I’m gonna interject here again with another word from our sponsors. Richmond and Dewey.
Dewey Holcombe stood in front of his Arthouse Erotica 301 Class dressed as a Begonia in a bright green zentai and a crocheted petal head dress, holding a slide show clicker remote while Richmond fussed with the laptop trying to get the PowerPoint to broadcast.
“I’m sorry we are experiencing some technical difficulties.”
Richmond grunted and got up off the floor with a triumphant grin, “There now, we got it.” Then turned to you, dear reader, with a wink and a wave, “Hey, you can scroll up and press play on the audio file now. Enjoy the show.”
Back to the Garden.... Something is about to be born…. Or shall I say… Some Being.
The saran wrap mummy is in the center of the pentagram now. The music is playing, the druids and flower maidens were standing in their designated areas, as the figure in the saran wrap started to writhe and wiggle like a worm. It flopped awkwardly to its side, and then only the feet were able to move.
There was a peek at what had to be a bright blue sock, and then a hairy leg, and then the body flopped, rolled on the other side, and there was the sound of ripping in the center, and long, manicured bright pink claws were gutting the wrap open, with a gasp of air, a gasp of newborn air.
Spitting.
Spitting the plastic away from its face. Spitting the clear membrane free and with long clawed fingers pushing the ombre, dyed brown hair out of the way too. Revealing face with smeared mascara, and wilting falsies, on a face caked with foundation and concealer. Awkwardly standing to her feet, her body naked, lanky and some sort of mid-transition form of herself.
More Spitting. This time to get the hair away from her bright pink lips.
“Fan!!” Her nasal voice quacked the demand and Gladiolus ran over to turn on the battery operated fan to blow her hair away from her face.
“Fuuuck… Okay what’s my line again?”
“Aphrodite…”
“Right, right. I am Aphrodite, Goddess of Love. I now permit you to take junk in-glove, and turn it to treasure…”
The Druids in an attempt of unified movement glanced at each other and then began unzipping and unfastening their pants to take out their genitals. Clarkwell grunted in anguish, “Ugh, this was not a good day to tuck, hold on… hang on, gotta get the girls to drop again.”
They grunted and started to wiggle their hips this way and that, and Hollis started to snicker, placing a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggles.
“Why are you laughing?”
“You’re just shaking your ass off rhythm to the ambient music… It's funny to me.”
“Murphy, maybe you should put something in his mouth to keep him from making that absurd seal noise he calls laughter?”
“I’m a Petunia. But I’ll relay your message to Murphy and they’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” Murphy snarked in reply.
“Was I supposed to say something else after this?” Aphrodite said, glancing at the druids and the flower maidens.
“No, just stand there and look… sexy. So that they can get off.”
“What? You mean I can’t just look up videos on my phone?! I had a few queued up and everything!”
“No!”
At this point I grew too frustrated to just stand idly by and hold the camera while they fuck up my film for my dissertation in the erotic arts. I had to intervene!! (again)
“No, no no! You’re supposed to be jerking off to the Goddess Aphrodite who has been reborn as this Transsexual Porn star, Sunny Starfuck, I told you that in the audition for this production!”
“What audition? You paid me twenty dollars and begged me to help you out because Chandra said she was going to India to visit her family and wouldn’t have time. I’m basically an understudy and that’s being generous.”
“JUST STICK TO THE SCRIPT! WHY IS THAT SO HARD?"
Sobbing now, I am sobbing through my fucking dissertation. Fuck my life… Fuuuck it hard and without mercy. I’m going to fail. I’m failing my class right now, right now this is Dewey Holcombe failing and will have any attempt at earning a doctorate in the erotic arts just spontaneously combust in a puff of smoke like the burp of a great dragon after he eats me… Or a queef, yeah my scholastic career is a Dragon’s Queef. Fuuuck!
“What Script?!” They all answered in unison.
An awkward silence and shifting eye contact for five minutes later…
“You know what, just start jerking off and aim your orgasm at the goddess Sunny Starfuck here, and we’ll call it good. I can work out whatever I need to in edits. I just want to get this done. We have like two hours left.”
“I’m not taking my dick out with all of these mosquitos, are you out of your mind?!” Hollis scoffed.
“EUREKA! I have both my eggs in the nest. Fuuuck, that feels weird, after hours of them just up there…”
“Hours?”
“Eh, I had a show last night and just crashed once I got home that they didn’t fully drop in my sleep because I still had the tape kind of holding them there and…”
“How the hell do you sleep with duct tape on you down there like that?”
“Because I’m a mother-tucking Queen, that’s how. Any other questions, token straight boy?’
“No, Ma’am… sorry ma’am…”
“You are so sweet, sugar cube, you are gonna melt in some woman’s mouth and I pray to gods and thots, that it's a woman like me, so I can picture you getting railed by royalty so hard you have no choice but to bed rot the next day.”
“Shit… I’ll cosign that prayer. You’re gorgeous… your highness.” Richmond gave a courtly bow.
“Bow a little lower and and you can sample my scepter, which is growing firmer by the minute, honey… so, so firm…”
“Uhm, Hello. I thought I was supposed to be the goddess here , not ClarkBell the Dumb Bitch from Idaho, Don'cha know?”
“Sunny, don’t make me black hole your star fucked-face, you porcelain-witted, washed up, dusty, crusty wanna be diamond, barely zirconium, busted ass vending machine mood ring sucking hoe!”
“Fuck, I just about came from that riff."
At this point everyone turned to stare at who we now knew had a thing for degradation and was probably not completely straight… Richmond Hays.
So to sum up… druidic Discordians: Hollis, Clarkwell, Hammond, Murphy Neptune, two other names that will get cast as extras so why mention their names anyway. Sunny Starfuck as the lead, the crew Dewey Holcombe and Richmond Hays. the real Petunia and Gladiolus left for the ER because one of them had an issue with her pacemaker.
And I forgot to give everyone the script. So everything derailed to casting shade and circle jerking. And this is my literal college dissertation in the Erotic Arts. If this doesn’t get me a Ph.D. that I’ve been working nine years to obtain. I very well may sell my soul to the nearest vending machine driver, because I am just pulling on my knob all semester, every semester and telling myself that this is worth a fucking degree!!
“Dewey? Hey, Dewey, don’t be so hard on yourself, man, seriously, we’ll help you get this dissertation to be the best there ever was. How much time do we have?”
"A little over an hour."
"Okay… C’mere,"
Before I knew it they were all surrounding me, taking off some of my clothing and putting other bits of clothing on me while caressing my body, wrapping up my bald head with saran wrap until I had a ponytail made of it.
They gathered all the flowers into a bouquet, and shoving fallen petals into someone’s bra strapped to my body until I had at least a b-cup. Hollis ran and grabbed a full stemmed begonia and slipped it behind my ear and then gave me kisses on both cheeks. “Druid blessing to your journey, and your career path forward, Erotic Artist, Dr. Dewey Holcombe."
Hammond got down on his knees and kissed my feet, washing them with mulch and kissed his way up my legs, thighs, sides, and shoulders until he got to his feet and whispered into my ear, “I’m harder than I’ve ever been in my life, if that’s not the badge of honor to an erotic artist like you, then I don’t know what is.” Then nose rubbed his nose against mine and placed his palms together in a bow and backed away.
Sunny and Murphy moved in front of the camera, “And now to guarantee you have celeb street cred and good ratings…”
They started making out in front of the camera. Richmond, still holding the camera, adjusted himself in his pants, swearing several times like a gratuitous voice over.
“Ladies, I’m gonna blow my load if you keep it up. I swear to God…”
“Well I’m a lady, I’m not sure what this one is.” Sunny said, holding Murphy’s chin and smooshing their cheeks. Murphy groaned, “I’m whatever gender the role requires… I paid for every set of genitals I have ever owned. I’m still paying for my own ass… literally.”
“Aren’t you a trending name in the industry?”
“I’m no Sunny Starfuck.”
“Quote that!”
The two women laughed and started making out again. The camera was shaky as Richmond started jerking off fully by that point. Clarkwell, took the camera from him and turned it out for a wide shot of him jerking off, pants at his ankles and the two of them making out like they were starving for it. Hollis was still trying to shove petals and fruit in my bra and shorts to give me a bulge in every genderfuck way possible. I half turned to the camera and winked.
And scene.
Standing in front of the review board as they watch this dumpster fire of a film, I stand tall in my begonia hood and zentai showing off the lumpy dimensions of my figure, not feeling self conscious for once in my life. I clear my throat and declare with pride, “I’m Dewey Holcombe, Doctoral Candidate of the Erotic Arts, And this is my Dissertation - a case study in gender, queer frivolity and trans-centric banter and wordplay in a natural environment of community and mutual support, complete with a candid emotional landscape that animates any artist, the ups and downs, the highs and lows, the degradation, awkwardness and praise. The near brush with death and the symbolic birth of new life. Because art is not just what you do, it is who you are. And our suffering to create worlds from nothing breaks glass ceilings and fourth walls. It burns like the sun, and is as distant and unknowable as Neptune. It is abstract and direct, it evokes ejaculations and awakens new aspects of identity long hidden to finally be honored.”
At that point, the friends, chosen family choose that moment to sneak into the back of the lecture hall, in their bright, colorful, can’t whisper to save their lives, glory. “Deweyyy, did you dew it? Did you dew it, Deweyyy?” Clarkwell asked with a giant eggplant pantomime something vulgar and dramatic near their hips. The judging professors half turned and looked at them and then back at me.
I expand my arms out to the side, “May I present the Oh My Gladiolus Performance Art Troupe?”
Upon which, like the response to a call, they all started dramatically moaning and feigning orgasmic noises. The judging professors shook their heads and a few of them I could tell, were suppressing smirks and trying to not laugh and remain stoic and serious, as this was a serious academic moment and they would not have it upstaged by some loud, hilariously fabulous drag queens with miraculous timing.
“Well did he dew it or not?” Clara, also known as, Sunny Starfuck demanded, hands on her hips. And in that dramatic pause is where I leave you. If this story hasn’t edged you, this cliff hanger… definitely will.
Cackling.
Glorious Cackling.
~Fin~
