Dinner Bell for the Dream Worms

by Jason Wuchenich

  “Pardon me, Lionel, but I have a specific design for you to create.”

  “Oh, well me oh my, it be the Miss Geraldine. What might this creation be? As you can see, I’m a very busy man.”

  “I’m well aware of your demanding trade, but I have an urgent project that should not terribly interfere with your schedule. What I need is an amplifying trumpet. You see, my mother is going slightly deaf and she is in dire need of an instrument to magnify tone.”

  “Well then,” the solemn man cough-grumbled, “that should be an easy task…if the price is right, of course.”

  “Of course. How does a two and sixpence sound for a mere hour of your time? That should serve you well for two days worth of labor.”

  Lionel dropped his hammer to the ground with a dulling thud. “Well, well then, it certainly must be a hasty job. I’ll get started straight away,” he said, collecting himself and rubbing his belly. “Come on back in a bit over an hour and you shall have your hearing tube.”

  Geraldine paid him on the spot and walked back to the tavern to have another ale to get the musky taste of sperm out of her mouth. She lingered on her walk, gazing at the sky and relishing life, as one would do as if freshly smitten.

  * * * * *

  Mildred reclined in her hay and hummed herself into a deep sleep, repeating some of the tunes she had been unintentionally exposed to by the practicing jamboree of arachnids. Soon she found herself in a dream. A suave and handsome man approached her through a thick fog. His smooth gestures and dimpled smirk brought her to a complete ease. He cradled her in his arms and nuzzled into her ear, although there was no movement from his lips, his voice came telepathically.

  I knowest of thine struggle and thou hast faced them with assured valor. I am here to help thee. The satchel that thouest wears can be a burden carried by me, and me alone. I shall design thee a post on wheels that connects thine wound to a tube that floweths and empties into a bucket. No more colonthimums during day, no more futile waste by night. Let me helpest thou and spare thee of treacherous plans that need not be. Alloweth me to suckle at thine opening, like a babe, and draineth thee of thy waste.

  Mildred felt at peace with her dream visitor and his words freed her of any pessimism. She guided his head down to her stoma and he latched onto it like a tender leech. He sucked at the opening like a newborn at its mother’s breast, draining it of her slushy feces. Since it was still only a dream, Lemmy didn’t materialize, he just wanted to demonstrate his emotive gesture. Mildred closed her eyes and patted the back of the stranger’s head with a sigh of pleasure and gratitude.

  * * * * *

  Twilight was approaching and Geraldine was in the midst of her journey home, bowel-flute in hand and still four sixpences in pocket. She managed to carry a large jug of ale home as well, for celebratory purposes. Once home, she found her mother pleasantly asleep, rocking an imaginary baby in her arms. Slightly perplexed, she jolted her mother awake, eager to divulge the success of her day’s exploits.

  “Mother!” Geraldine said, shaking her mother’s arm. Her flabby skin jiggled like calloused custard and the contents of her colostomy bag rippled in its half-filled container.

  “Eh?” Mildred rose with a jolt and a burrowed frown, slightly pissed off. “I was having a most fulfilling dream.”

  Seems to be a contagious condition, Geraldine thought.

  “A dream visitor instructed me how to end the cumbersome employment of my hindering and unsustainably false appendage.” She was gazing at nothing and still in the faintest remnants of sleep. “We must kill a pig, not for its bladder, but for a three and a half foot section of its entrails. Then we must call on Doctor Unnamable.”

  “Whatever you say, Mother, but look, I have your gut-horn, and look,” she said, swashing a jug full of potent ale, “we have libations to celebrate your sanity!’

  As if on queue, the minstrel arachnids counted off, undetected to either Mildred or her daughter.

  1,2,3,4, and then they began.

  Partake thee ye, with joyous ale

  Deploy thy raft and set ye sail

  Billow forth, triumphant gale

  Oh, joyous drink thy ale.

  “There it is again!” Mildred exclaimed. “These musicians must assuredly know the air about them. They are most astute!’

  “Let us try the newly-crafted device, for I now know that you speak the truth, Mother,” Geraldine said as she gently removed her mother’s shit-filled colostomy bag, and set it gingerly on Mildred’s nightstand. Geraldine puckered her slightly chapped lips, brought on by an afternoon’s worth of fellatio, and slathered the skinny end of the trumpet with her saliva. Geraldine wiped off her mother’s slowly leaking excrement with her already semen-sodden blouse and introduced the skinny end of the amplifying horn into the pulsing anus that adorned her mother’s left side. A few lubricated squiggles, and the horn was firmly in place.

  “Now, let us see if this apparatus was worth the toll done to my tonsils,” Geraldine gently lifted the back of her vulva which, when standing, looked like a banana bicycle seat, and pulled it forward; sitting cross-legged on the floor. She passed the jug of ale to her mother in a manner of respect, allowing her to take the first celebratory swig. Mildred bit the cork and spat it out like an unsavory sailor, and guzzled. They sat in silence for a few moments as night encroached until Mildred began to describe, in detail, the device that Lemmy had bestowed on her.

  “So you see, there will be no more need for the colonthimum petals, as the pig’s intestine will be stitched to my stoma, and hung from a pole on wheels. It would empty into a bucket hung on the very same pole, and oddly enough, the man said he would design it and, I think he mentioned, in a roundabout way, he would dispose of it, eat it or something!”

  “Well that certainly is strange! Are you suffering from some unconscious delusional disorder? I’m not insinuating you would know it, even if you were, but between the initial theft of your, erm, thing, and this dream of yours, it could seem quite possible.”

  “Didn’t you already deem me sane, my daughter? Are we back to square one, is that it?”

  “Of course you’re sane mother, but maybe the drink has gone to your head, and after all, the music has been silent even after the horn was introduced.”

  “Oh, just never mind your insane mother, here.” Mildred passed the ale back to Geraldine, “Stoke the fire on your way out,” she said in a huff.

  “Yes, mother,” she sighed as she stood up. Her oversized hymen sprung to life and flicked her skirt up in a gust of repressed skin-air. Geraldine took the jug and glugged down some of the ale. She made a fire in the main living area that illuminated the entire home with a soothing orange warmth.

  Once in her own bedroom, Geraldine gave herself a quick sponge bath and doused herself with clover oil. She took a few more gulps from the ale jug and sprawled on her udder bed. The arachnids began playing a calming instrumental ballad. The amplifying trumpet was still deeply wedged in Mildred’s stoma, and the soothing sound of music filled the small domicile. She closed her eyes, smiling, nude, and eager, and drifted off into a deep sleep.

  * * * * *

  Rambunctious butterflies fluttered about in Lemmy’s stomach. He propped his feet up on his flavor table and did hundreds of push ups to perk up his pectoral muscles. His sculpted body glistened with sweat and the dampness made his dark, curly hair hang loosely before his eyes. A cauldron of freshly warmed stools boiled over the hearth. He dipped a lead bowl into the slop and slowly spooned it down. This was the night he had waited fourteen days for and he was more nervous than he thought he could ever be. He knew he had succeeded in winning over Mildred, but the true trial was still before him. As soon as he finished his gruel, the gophers started to rumble. He clenched hard and held his buttocks in a perpetual state of tension. It was go time. He stood, naked but invisible to all, and blinked.

  His specter appeared in Mildred’s room, nothing more than another shadow hidden in the flickering crannies of
the dying fire. Lemmy had to fart really bad, but first he had to conjure the implement of relief that he had promised Mildred, just hours before. His nose caught a whiff of delectable defecate. Lemmy noticed the half-filled colostomy bag on the nightstand and thought, Ah, this will be a most welcomed addition for whence my form shall be revealed.

  He didn’t have to collect any equipment; the mere effort of concentrating and willing the creation into being was powerful enough for the teleportation and construction of the shit-draining contraption. A foggy vision of a shiny pole made out of solid silver sharpened. At its bottom was a silver bucket, the pole connected in the center like a diving rod pointing towards the heavens. It suspended itself before the sleeping Mildred and eerily floated over to her left side, coming to rest on four swiveling wheels attached to the bucket.

  Lemmy did, however, come prepared with a fresh length of human intestine that he mystically exalted with a supernatural formaldehyde – impervious to any onset of rot. He cast an incantation over Mildred; hurling her into an unwakeable slumber that only he could rouse her from. The fart that was building within him was ready for release, but just to be safe, and provide him with extra time, he took a quick guzzle from the diarrhea that awaited him on the nightstand – an unintentional gift akin to cookies left for Santa.

  Lemmy instantly let out a silent-but-deadly. His body materialized, and he quickly summoned a needle and thread from the netherworld. He plucked the trumpet out of Mildred like a fragile petunia and began to stitch the transcendental intestine to Mildred’s reposing stoma. The delicate surgery took almost an hour as Lemmy made certain that the stitches were almost microscopic. The intestine spouting from her side was tipped with a detachable silver thread, looking like a cross between a screw and a firehouse nozzle. Lemmy inserted the tip into a hole on the side of the bucket and twisted a nut on the other side to secure it in place. He set the trumpet on the nightstand, swapping its placement with the colostomy bag that still sloshed with shit.

  Thou shalt continue to slumber deep, until I awaketh thee once the celestial sun slithers from the horizon.

  * * * * *

  The Devil’s Hour struck - 3 a.m. - and Lemmy began to dissipate from the physical realm. His transparent body stood this time in front of the conglomerate of cow udders that cradled Geraldine as she slept. He stared at her body and slowly a spectral tear meandered down the outline of his face.

  I beseech thee, dear Geraldine, look upon me with loving eyes and search the truest of loves that beats forth from my heart, for it beats for thee alone. My allure lurks within my love, not my scent.

  He swallowed the remainder of Mildred’s excrement. The last gulps of the sludge got lodged in his throat and coalesced with the lump caused by a nervous hope. He forced it down, making his esophagus momentarily ache. The gasses started to brew and as he positioned himself over her body, his lips inches away from hers, he let out a noxious explosion of fart. His body regained its form instantly. The smell filled the room and seeped out of the slightly cracked window causing a cluster of bats to noisily squeak and stir amongst the trees. As he went in to give the kiss of awakening, Geraldine shot up from the stench and unintentionally head butted Lemmy. She retched and coughed with eyes still closed as Lemmy reeled back. A split in his forehead leaked blood then quickly healed.

  Lemmy spoke, allowing a mortal to hear his voice for the first time in eons. “My love, I have come for thee. I am here for you, until time’s end.”

  With eyes still clenched shut, Geraldine seemed to not have noticed the words Lemmy tenderly spoke. “By merciful god, what is that smell?” she said as she rubbed her head.

  “It is I, the love of your dreams. I am here for you now and forever.”

  Geraldine opened her eyes and as his vision set in upon her retinas, she sprouted a smile. Her heart felt as if it had been hit with a hammer and joy overcame her – followed by nausea. She uncontrollably vomited on Lemmy’s face but her desire for him overcame the lingering odor and she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him through her own dripping bile. Their tongues frolicked within each others mouths as the stench continued to remain. Another burst of vomit filled Lemmy’s mouth and found its way into his own stomach. Their kiss continued and Lemmy was in utter disbelief. Love has conquered all! The bile had begun to make Lemmy’s guts rumble and another fart leaked from his bottom. Geraldine pulled away and pinched her nose shut.

  “My love, you are real? You are here?” she questioned unbelievingly. The plugging of her nose made her voice sound funny and Lemmy actually laughed.

  “Allow me to ease the discomfort that hast assuredly befallen upon thee.” Lemmy summoned a golden clothespin and placed it on Geraldine’s suffering nose.

  “Oh, this is perfect!” she exclaimed, wiping slobber and vomit from her lips. “I can’t believe you are real! The moments we shared in my dreams were without doubt, the best times of my life, better than living a life awake. You quite literally made my dreams come true!”

  “I have been cursed by the gods with a smell repellent to humans. I fretted that thou wouldst find my stench unbearable. I entered your dreams for you to love me for whom I am, despite my reek. I trust you can love a malodorous Incubus such as I?”

  “Oh, I can, I can! I’ve saved myself for one who could woo me as you have.” Realizing that they were both covered in partially digested stomach contents, Geraldine recoiled and nervously searched for a rag. “I feel dreadful for making such a mess, I want you to take me, now, but we’re both covered in filth.”

  “Worry not, my love. The pleasure we shall share comes from our hearts, not our guts.” Lemmy leaned in for another kiss but Geraldine stopped him short.

  “What about my deformity, do you not find it monstrous?”

  “Deformity? Of what deformity speakest thou?”

  “My, you know…” she gestured down.

  “Thine beauty is not marred by any such deformity. I am in love and see no obstacle that can hinder our passion.” He leaned in for the kiss. He kissed her deeply, caressing her breast with his left hand. With his right, he made a fist and nestled it between her thighs. With one swift thrust, his fist burst through her hymen and the sudden cry of pain was muffled by a groan of pleasure that found its way from her mouth, to his. With his fist, he massaged the inside until she was begging for him to enter her. His member, just like in her dreams, swelled from a normal size to a size that could easily accommodate her maw-like vagina. Still locked in a sublime kiss, he mounted her and the physical rapture they experienced was unlike anything familiar to either one of them. The rippling waves of the cow udders rhythmically undulated beneath them, mimicking their motions. Geraldine ran her fingers through his black hair as he pumped away, bringing her ever closer to orgasm. When she finally came, her contractions were so intense, it forced Lemmy to ejaculate. They came together, her contractions still pulsing around him as he flooded her with his semen.

  * * * * *

  Lying in bed in puddles of vomit, hymen blood, vaginal lubrication, and semen, Geraldine and Lemmy embraced. The clothespin had served its purpose stupendously, although Geraldine, out of breath from the intense loss of her virginity and the near-constant kissing, heaved heavily.

  “There is a confession that I must announce to thee, my dear Geraldine.”

  “What is it my dearest love?”

  “It was I that stole thine mother’s filth satchel. I must imbibe its contents for my form to reveal itself unto thee – for only then will I fart, and only then will thou see me.”

  “I must admit, that is a bit, em, difficult to swallow, but as long as you are here with me, I suppose you can feast on my droppings as you please, as well. I wouldn’t dare to think I would have to go so long without seeing you.”

  “This is wonderful news, my darling Geraldine! I actually constructed a divine contraption for harvesting Mildred’s waste. She slumbers, now, with no revelation of my gift. I must wake her shortly, as I will soon begin to fade.”
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  “This contraption you speak of, how does it work? And what of the minstrels?”

  “I knowest not of what thou speaketh of, my love. Minstrels?”

  “The trumpet that was set in her stoma, it amplified the music that the minstrels played and…”

  Lemmy had to cut her off. “My love, I’m beginning to fade. I must release your mother from the spell, lest she never wake. I will see thee soon, this I swear.” He kissed her hand and quickly moved into Mildred’s room, mumbling words in an unrecognizable, foreign language. The sky was beginning to fill with the calming blue of sunrise just as Lemmy dissipated into nothing.

  * * * * *

  Sunbeams shattered through sporadic tree branches and created random scintillations through Mildred’s window. Pinpoints of silver glimmered from her new crap container. She peacefully awoke and immediately noticed the new shining gadget, speckled with an almost divine illumination. Tracing the tube that was sewn to her mid-section with her hand she called out, “Geraldine! Would you look at this? Come quickly!”

  After only a few minutes of rest, Geraldine, covered in all sorts of fluids, physically exhausted but emotionally peppy, quickly wiped off her body with a dirty dress. “ Coming Mother,” she naturally responded.

  “I had a dream conversation with a very handsome fellow who in a roundabout way told me of something new for my condition and lo and behold, this must be it! Come look!”

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” She threw on a new dress to cover herself, but she knew her mother’s instincts would be keen enough to detect her loss of virginity. Geraldine started to walk, but it hurt. Just before she entered her mother’s room, she remembered the clothespin and tugged it off her nose. With no pockets on her dress, she hid it in her vagina.