Pie Box 1

by George Saoulidis

  “That’s it, that’s your advice? Throw yourself into work?” Cherry said, raising the side of her upper lip.

  “For now. Just for now. Until then, we will have fun together. Decorate the room, shop for something cute, whisper about you and Hector. You know, simple stuff. No need to worry about the big picture right now.”

  Cherry smiled bitterly.

  “I nailed it, didn’t I?” Pickle said proudly.

  Cherry sighed. “Yeap. You did. One day at a time?” she said, raising her fist.

  Pickle bumped her fist with her own. “One day at a time, kiddo.”

  The receptionist said with her fake smile, “They’ll see you now, please follow the highlighted path in your veil.”

  DROP EIGHTY-SIX

  Cherry kicked Pickle’s leg. Ouch! It was the augmented one, damn! That hurt, a lot.

  “This was clearly made by people who hate pickles!” Pickle argued, far too passionately -- if Cherry might add -- for the lame topic under discussion.

  “No, you see...” Mr Pappas, the company’s flavourist, managed to squeeze in before getting interrupted again.

  “It’s an insult and an act of betrayal!” Pickle kept on screaming.

  Cherry elbowed her hard. Ouch, poutana. Forgot about her exoskeleton, damn! Tingling, tingling all over her hand, ants, all over. Ow. Ow. Ow.

  “You had the potential to convince people to incorporate more pickles into their lives, but no... You chose a sweet taste!” Pickle kept ranting on. She slashed her palm with her other hand. “Basic stuff. Pickles should be sour or spicy, not sweet. Have you ever seen a pickle-lover chomping on sweet pickles? Answer me. Answer me now.”

  Pappas’ entire body language was apologetic. “I... we tried to... “

  “Tried to what? Certain things should be sweet, others should be sour. When you put cucumbers in vinegar to ferment, you don’t add sugar. It’s not a fucking dessert!”

  “We tested-”

  “Tested? Who? People with no fucking tongues? In your attempt to make a drink to appease more consumers, you made something that tastes like nothing.”

  Insane. Her friend was absolutely insane. She was gonna torpedo the first solid sponsorship of her life because a damned fake slushie wasn’t the right shade and flavour.

  “We-”

  “NOTHING!”

  Cherry slapped Pickle’s shoulder, this time hitting her on the meat. Pickle waved her away, not having any of it.

  “We can make a true pickle-juice slushie that will cause a minor sensation amongst the masses. No, it won’t be for everyone, but don’t you know that money is in the niches now?”

  “Mrs. Pickle, I have one early recipe right here for you. If you would calm down and try it-”

  “I am calm!” Pickle screamed into the man’s face.

  Cherry dropped all pretence and just stomped on Pickle’s leg with both her feet to get her to stop.

  “Okay, jeez, Cherry! I’m calm. Come on, bring this early recipe, I wanna try it,” Pickle gestured, hurrying the man along.

  The flavourist expert hurried towards the back of his lab and brought back a row of sealed test tubes. He put it on the workbench, picked one up in his hand, and reverently popped the cap open in front of Pickle’s face.

  She sniffed deeply. “Colour looks better, none of that radioactive urine. Smell... Yeah, I can feel the vinegar. It holds the vibrancy of the real thing.”

  The flavourist’s shoulders relaxed vividly when she said that. “I’m glad, Mrs. Pickle.” He picked up a pipette and put a drop of it into another liquid. “Now, take a tiny sip, it’s still undiluted one-to-four.”

  Cherry found the whole thing very amusing, here they were, two grown people, being serious as fuck about a pickle flavour. “Yeah, careful there,” she mocked, “wouldn’t wanna add a drop too many!” but nobody paid any attention to her.

  Pickle tasted it, and the flavourist hung by her lips for an entire minute or so of silence. She smacked her lips together, rolled the liquid in her mouth. She finally said, “It’s close.”

  The flavourist smiled and visibly deflated.

  Pickle raised a finger. “Not perfect, mind you. It’s in the neighbourhood. Can we mix these somehow?” She propped herself on the workbench by her arms.

  “Of course!” the flavourist beamed at her.

  Cherry sighed and dragged a stool under her butt. She sank on it and complained, “We’re gonna be here for hours, aren’t we?”

  They paid no attention to her. They simply watched in fascination as the flavourist cut a drop in two and controlled the final result. “We’re not leaving here until it’s absolutely perfect,” Pickle said, staring at the chemistry set.

  Cherry groaned.

  DROP EIGHTY-SEVEN

  Look pretty. Look fuckable. This was Mamacita’s mantra, and she repeated it in her mind over and over. She took a wobbly step down the stairs, trying very hard not to trip on her long gown.

  This was a socialite’s event, after all.

  All the bigwigs were here. Executive chiefs from Aphrodite Cosmetics, Zeus Electric, heck, even a guy from Hephaistos Heavy Industries had drawn the short straw and was forced to attend. Mamacita could see the poor man standing in the corner, eating the canapés. He was definitely an engineer or an architect, a man who could rule over an entire construction site of two hundred organics and e-persons, but felt so out of place in this social event. It was cute, in a way.

  But she couldn’t be bothered with him. She had a job to do.

  She pushed up her boobs and recited again: Look pretty. Look fuckable.

  She peeled off an endo patch with microneedle delivery and slapped it on one of the few patches of skin she had left, her belly. It was a small pink square. Nobody would pay any attention to it unless they knew what it was.

  Then she went for her target. Tanya Herma was a gorgeous person, a model, actress, humanitarian, and pretty much a powerful influencer in the media. She had an audience, and Aphrodite wanted her on the team. Tanya was tall and imposing, two metres and two centimetres to be precise, and she wore heels on top of that. Towering over her husband, who was also a big man but not as tall as her, she laughed and drank champagne and charmed eleven people around her. Tanya was also a hermaphrodite, famously so. Her parents had chosen in-vitro to gift her with both sets of genitals, as well as ridding of all genetic diseases, possible heart failures, chances of stroke and other embolisms, while also giving her a magnificent physique. She was a proud achievement of Apollo Medical, and she was at the forefront of their eugenics program. Of course, they didn’t call it as such, but that’s what it was. Rich people custom-ordering their children to their specifications. Blue eyes, rich hair, face symmetry, perfect bone structure.

  And a pair of dick and pussy, as was the case with Tanya.

  Mamacita couldn’t deny that she was attracted to her. An androgynous authority figure, tall and charming and hot as fuck. Yes, she very much wanted to do her right there in the middle of the soirée, and she was sure people wouldn’t mind the show.

  Aphrodite wanted Tanya on the roster, signed up and bound with a contract. She had her eyes on the androgynous piece of the market, and Tanya had the eyes of a significant part of it. Mamacita didn’t know how she’d manage it, but there was one rumour she could work with. Word on the street was that Tanya had never gotten an orgasm on her female parts by her husband. Perhaps the man needed some lesson, perhaps her anatomy made it difficult and the poor man was unjustly ridiculed.

  Well. Mamacita could work with that tiny thread alone.

  She knew how to work dicks. She also knew how to work pussies. How hard could it be to work them both at the same time?

  A fan came up to her and blocked her approach. “Geez, Mamacita in person! I’m your number one fan! I have all your t-shirts and AROs and-”

  Mamacita pursed up her lips and turned to him, batting her eyelashes at him. “So nice to meet you,” she checked his veil, “Greg.” She touched his ar
m and he looked really excited. “It’s always nice to feel the...” she breathed out the next word huskily, “love, of the fans, you know?”

  Greg gulped. “S-sure it is!”

  “Do you want an autograph?” she smiled coyly.

  “Yes! Definitely!”

  She felt generous that day. She pulled him close and planted a slobbery kiss on his lips. Greg moaned in a mix of shock and delight and his knees buckled. He remained there, steadying himself on a table, his eyes unfocused and with a smile on his lips.

  “Still got it,” Mamacita said, sucking in air through her teeth. Then she went in for her real target.

  Tanya had moved on to the side of the main event, and her courtiers had followed along with her. It would be hard to get her attention, Mamacita needed to figure something out.

  Play the heroine, maybe, save her from all the courtiers? Nah, Tanya was a strong woman. It would have to be the other way around. Play the victim, then. Mamacita looked around and thought about what she had available. Her eyes fell on the fan, who was still wobbly from her kiss.

  Hm.

  Look pretty. Look fuckable.

  She turned around and catwalked towards him. That got his attention, she could see him pitching a tent from down here. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “If you do exactly what I tell you and play along, I’ll give you a hand job afterwards. Deal?”

  The man nodded furiously.

  “Okay, listen up...”

  DROP EIGHTY-EIGHT

  Tanya made the jackasses laugh. It wasn’t that hard, all it took was some practised jokes and a hundred hours of rigorous socialite training. They loved her. She loved that they loved her. She flirted with them all, but she had chosen three of them to fuck afterwards. All three at the same time. She liked to do that, and her husband liked to watch.

  Suddenly, she noticed an altercation in front of her. It wasn’t that hard for her to see, she was a good head taller than the men around her. It was subtle, but it was there. A man was grabbing the arm of a woman. She was sexy, augmented, and clearly not interested, but the man wouldn’t take no for an answer. Tanya kept chatting with the men but payed attention with the corner of her eye.

  The woman went for the exit, the man dragged her to the bathroom. She looked woozy and drugged, he looked horny and pushy. Tanya didn’t like that. It was one thing with consenting adults, they could do whatever the fuck they wanted to each other’s orifices, but this didn’t seem consensual. The woman was probably stronger than the man due to her augmentations, but a lifetime of broken down will and a nod from her owner would make her unable to react.

  The ‘couple,’ went in the bathroom together. “Excuse me,” Tanya said, “I need to freshen up.” She smiled around her and waved some air on her face. The courtiers agreed and finally let her go.

  Tanya went into the bathroom and found the man pushing the woman on the wall. She was pushing back, he had pulled her bra down and was grabbing a handful.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” Tanya said as if nothing was happening and went to the mirror beside them. She opened her clutch and took out some lip gloss, then straightened her hair on the mirror.

  “Do you mind, lady?” the man said.

  “Oh, don’t mind me. Carry on with your raping or whatever.” Tanya waved away.

  The man sighed.

  “The lady looks drugged, and you are not acting like a gentleman. I’m just calling it like I see it.” Tanya said, putting on lip gloss.

  The woman grunted and looked at Tanya pleadingly. Her veil profile popped up.

  “Oh, that’s where I knew you from! You’re famous, Mamacita. I admit I don’t watch that much Cyberpink, but I have heard of you,” Tanya said, excited.

  “Lady, seriously, piss off.” The man was pissed off and had obviously lost his hard on.

  She ignored him. “I’m Tanya, nice to meet you! What a lovely manicure, you have to tell me where you got it from.”

  The man cursed and pushed Mamacita on the wall. “You know what? Fine. I’m leaving. Bitch.” He took off and left them alone in the bathroom.

  Tanya changed her tone completely. “Are you okay? Have some water, here.” She cupped her hand under the tap and splashed some all over Mamacita’s face. She was sweaty and practically out of it.

  “By Apollo, you’re scorching,” Tanya said, feeling her forehead.

  Mamacita fell on her arms and mumbled something.

  “Now I’m worried, girl.” Tanya said. “Do you want me to call someone?”

  “Nobody cares,” Mamacita mumbled. “Please, don’t leave me alone. Please. Please,” she cried, crumpling her pretty face into a scared and vulnerable woman.

  “Okay. Okay,” Tanya repeated, holding her head, looking around. “I’m gonna take you to my place, don’t worry.”

  “No...” Mamacita complained. “You have a party going on...” She couldn’t keep her head up.

  “It sucked anyway. There’s always the next party. I got you, relax.” Tanya splashed more water on Mamacita’s face and carried her out. She called her driver and they both put her in the limo, then went to her place.

  DROP EIGHTY-NINE

  The next morning, Tanya’s guest seemed a bit better, despite waking up with a start.

  “It’s okay, you’re in my apartment, up at Apollo tower. Remember last night? I think you were roofied.”

  Mamacita looked around the guest room, and rubbed her eye. “What? No. I was at the party...”

  “Hey, go take a shower, all right? Here are some clothes, they’re mine so they’ll definitely won’t fit you, but that’s what I have for now.”

  “It’s okay, thanks,” Mamacita croaked. Her hangover looked awful.

  After she took a shower, she seemed to feel a lot better.

  “Here, eat something,” Tanya said, offering her some breakfast.

  Mamacita accepted the tray and started eating, looking hungry. “Thanks, again. And for last night.”

  “It’s okay. It was the right thing to do.”

  “Still, not everyone would have.”

  “I know. Do you want me to call your owner or something, come pick you up?”

  Mamacita recoiled. “No. Can I please stay here for today? Just for today, I can’t go out and deal with the world just now. I’ll clean up after myself, you won’t even know I’m here!”

  Tanya chuckled. She held her hand. “It’s all right. Yes, you can stay for today. Just try to feel better.”

  “I will.”

  Tanya stood up. “I need to get to a meeting.”

  “Is it important? Please don’t leave me alone.” Mamacita grabbed her hand, then let go.

  Tanya bit her lip and thought about it. “No, it’s nothing that can’t be rescheduled. Let me make a few calls and I’ll come back.”

  Mamacita smiled at her.

  Tanya warned her husband away. He was far too curious, and it was obvious he was interested in watching Mamacita doing something naughty, but she decided this was a vulnerable woman that needed as fewer males around her as possible at that point.

  They chatted. They had fun. Mamacita opened up, talked about her past, Tanya spoke about hers, though it wasn’t as interesting despite her being so unusual. They drank some expensive wine, watched chick-flicks, ate ice cream. It was a hell of a sleep-over.

  “Won’t your owner be worried?” Tanya asked, drinking wine.

  “He can track me, if he cared he’d be knocking on the door right now. Spoiler alert: he doesn’t!” Mamacita snorted, spitting wine through her nose.

  Tanya laughed.

  “What were you planning to do last night before you brought me over?” Mamacita asked, propping her head on her arms.

  “Oh, probably a foursome with some of those guys that were hounding me. And my husband watching, he likes that.”

  Mamacita snorted again. “Sorry, sorry. So, I messed up your plans,” she said, moving her body closer.

  “Yeah, you kinda did.�
� Tanya said, looking down at her body. “How are you planning to repay that?”

  “Well...” Mamacita said, and offered her thumb to her.

  Tanya did the same and they touched them together. Opening their veils they allowed the encrypted transdermal communication to occur, and they both got the ‘go ahead’ signal. They had just let each other’s implants check up on their sexual health and STD checkup history. Satisfied with the result, Mamacita ran her finger down Tanya’s long leg. “There is this whole hermaphrodite thing. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious...”

  “I know, I hear that all the time. And then, after you’ve seen it, what?” Tanya touched Mamacita’s hair and pushed her head down.

  Mamacita pulled down Tanya’s pyjamas. “Then I’d make you feel better than those three bozos ever could,” she said and started kissing her cock.

  Tanya responded immediately to her touch, and was surprised to feel wet further down also. “You are,” she said, her breath catching, “you are quite good at this.”

  “Thank you!” Mamacita said and then dove into her pussy.

  Tanya arched her back and set the glass of wine down.

  Mamacita went down on her and started humming as she did so, making Tanya shiver uncontrollably. “Does this feel nice?”

  Tanya moaned in pleasure, panting, “Nice? I fucking love it. Yes, keep doing it, yes. Oh... Yes!”

  Mamacita switched into sucking her cock, and kept on rubbing Tanya with her fingers. She brought her to the absolute brink of pleasure, then stopped completely.

  “What? No, don’t stop now. Keep going, please!” Tanya begged.

  “I heard you couldn’t orgasm from the pussy. Let’s see if that’s true.” Then Mamacita dove her nose inside Tanya’s pussy and started eating her out. By taking her to the edge from one end, and working on it expertly from the other, Tanya started screaming in delight, then came hard for more than a minute, shuddering, her body spasming uncontrollably. She came all over Mamacita’s face, who seemed proud and very horny.