Stuck on You and Other Prime Cuts

by Jasper Bark

  At the top of an impossibly tall, gothic tower he knocked at the door of Suchs’ corner office.

  “Come,” shouted Suchs as Ashmodial pushed open the heavy wooden door. The back walls of the office were made entirely from glass. The view was unimaginable. The panorama of Hell that lay beneath showed all Suchs’ reforms in their terrifying glory. Ashmodial didn’t recognise Hell anymore.

  Suchs, dressed in a bespoke Oswald Boateng suit, was chatting to a client on his hands free headset with his feet up on a huge antique desk. Ashmodial was still agog at Suchs’ ability to track down luxury items in Hell.

  Being an economist, Suchs had grasped one of the basic principles of Hell, that envy and covetousness are better ways of tormenting people than they are of motivating them. For the damned to suffer from constant envy there had to be items for them to covet and more importantly others who owned those items instead of the damned. This one brilliant insight had brought Suchs power, influence and a coterie of daemonic disciples.

  He motioned for Ashmodial to put the cup down on an ivory coaster. The tower shook and Ashmodial spilled the latté. Suchs glowered as his client droned on. Before Suchs could discipline Ashmodial there was another larger tremor. Footsteps sounded on the steps outside and the door burst from its ancient hinges.

  Lucifer was standing in the doorway. He had come in his most terrifying and Vengeful aspect. His huge frame looked as if it was carved from living brimstone. His body was cloaked in smoke and flames and lightning crackled in arcs between his large, curved horns.

  “SUCHS,” he bellowed. “Hell is in ruins!”

  “I’m going to have to put you on speaker phone,” Suchs said to his client as Lucifer stormed towards him.

  “Thanks to your ridiculous policies we’ve expanded our territory to the point where we can’t find most of the damned. If we can’t find them we can’t torture them and the whole of Hell reverts to a paradise. All nine levels are in imminent danger of collapse.”

  “Well, you have to remember that it is a bull market.”

  “Don’t talk bull to me.” Lucifer grabbed him by the throat. “Do you know what Hell is built on, what makes up the fabric of its existence?”

  “Well it’s a complicated issue, to begin with you have to cross reference the SYI with the–”

  “It’s not a complicated issue! It’s suffering, eternal suffering plain and simple. If people stop suffering Hell falls apart. What we’re facing is a major Castigation Crunch and there’s only one way out.”

  “And what might that be?” Suchs was sweating and his suit was on fire, but he didn’t look as rattled as he ought to be.

  “It’s what’s known as an Aeternas Excrutiatum, what in your terms we might call a Baleful Bail Out. To get rid of such a toxic deficit in our despair the one soul responsible has to suffer 700 billion times more than any soul has ever suffered.”

  “Is that right?”

  “It’s the only way out of the slump in our suffering. What I’m personally going to do to you is going to a 700 billion times worse than what Simon Cowell does to the trouser leg.”

  “So in essence, what you’re saying is that I’m worth 700 billion souls to you.”

  “And a whole lot more.”

  Suchs squirmed in Lucifer’s grip and turned towards the speaker phone. “You heard him boys.” There was a flash of heavenly radiance and a portal opened up in the room. An Archangel and two angelic aides strode through. “What is the meaning of this?” said Lucifer. “This is my domain and you’re making an unwarranted intrusion.”

  “We are about God’s business,” said the Archangel. “And that requires no warrant or permission.”

  “I’m afraid I worked out a little counter deal with the CEO of your rivals,” said Suchs.

  “The Lord rejoices in saving even the lowliest souls,” said the Archangel. “But is especially pleased with one worth 700 billion.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Lucifer. “Do you mean to tell me you’re here to redeem Suchs and take him back to Heaven with you?”

  “Indeed we are.”

  “But it doesn’t work this way. There are rules. You know as well as I do he has to do something pure and good enough to make up for all the evil things he’s done.”

  “Putting the whole of Hell in imminent danger of collapse. That sounds more than pure and good enough to me.”

  “But he caused untold damage to the lives of millions with his reckless free market policies.”

  “And you put him in charge of your finances,” said one of the Archangel’s unimpressed aides. “That was a smart move.”

  The aides took Such’s arms and led him towards the portal. “No,” said Lucifer. “I will not allow this. This sinner cannot leave Hell.”

  “You have no say in the matter,” said the Archangel. “It has already been decided by a higher power than you.”

  Suchs stopped in front of the portal. He turned and pointed at Ashmodial. “Wait, I can’t leave without my assistant. I want him to come too. In fact, I insist upon it.”

  “I was afraid you might say that,” said Ashmodial as one of the aides grabbed him by the hump and marched him to the portal.

  He didn’t want to go. Lucifer was about to explode with rage and rain liquid agony down on anything in his proximity. But even the prospect of escaping that fate didn’t make Ashmodial eager to step through the portal.

  * * *

  After an hour in Heaven Ashmodial found himself longing for the liquid pain of Lucifer’s wrath. The piety, the self-righteousness, the endless choirs, it was like someone had taken an industrial sander to his scaly hide.

  The long white robe they were all obliged to wear hung round his misshapen body like a shroud on a dismembered corpse. Suchs on the other hand had somehow managed to get Gianni Versace to hand stitch his. He smiled his predatory smile at Ashmodial as he hopped along the clouds towards him.

  “I hate it here,” said Ashmodial. “You know that don’t you?”

  “Oh come now Ashmodial,” said Suchs. “This is the Eternal Reward. You should be grateful I plucked you from the fires of Hell.”

  “What fires? Hell’s bankrupt and can’t afford the fuel to keep its fires going. Why should I be grateful that you brought me here? Why did you do it?”

  “To prove a point. You told me the afterlife was a place I wouldn’t recognise. You told me I was a fish out of water. So I turned Hell into something you wouldn’t recognise. Then I brought you to Heaven. Now who’s the fish out of water?”

  “Look Suchs, whatever it takes, whatever you want, just tell me and I’ll make sure it’s yours. But please, you’ve got to get me out of here.”

  “Are you trying to buy your way out of Heaven? I thought you told me that some things don’t have a price, especially when you’re dead. I think I’ve rather proved you wrong there. Here endeth the lesson.”

  Suchs turned and strode away from him, kicking up little wisps of cloud as he went. “Wait Suchs,” Ashmodial called. “You can’t leave me here, you just can’t. It’s not right, Suchs...”

  But Humphrey Suchs was beyond appeal. He had his arm around an elderly angel with a long white beard who was stationed by the pearly gates. “Now look, Peter,” he was saying. “I’ve been meaning to have word with you about your admissions policy...”

  ‘ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT’

  “And what makes you think I’ve finished with him?” Helena slid her fingers down Ben’s stomach and stroked his cock.

  Ben placed a hand on her arm. “I think he’s had enough. You’ve worn him out.”

  “Oh really, that’s not what he seems to think.” Helena was right. His cock was most definitely hard between her fingers.

  “What a traitor,” Ben said. Helena laughed. She’d once told him that a woman has two relationships with a man, one with the man and the other with his cock. Maybe they’d been talking behind his back, but right now his cock was on Helena’s side.

  She leaned over and brushed
his chest with her lips, then kissed her way down to the cock she so was expertly stroked.

  “I’m a bit sticky,” Ben said. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “Well if you enjoy the taste as much as you say you do, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

  Helena ran her tongue lightly up the length of his shaft, from the root to the tip and then blew on it. “Are you sure I’ve worn him out?”

  “I think he’s found his second wind.”

  “Good.”

  Helena circled the end of his cock with her lips. Hovering, mouth open, at its tip, teasing him. It was working. He bit his lip he was so desperate for her to continue.

  Just as his longing got to be unbearable, she took him in her mouth. She pulled back his foreskin and rolled her tongue over the sensitive flesh beneath. She pressed down with her lips and took more of him in her mouth.

  Helena went slowly at first, drawing out the pleasure. As her lips and tongue increased their rhythm the pleasure built, Ben felt himself swell in her mouth.

  He could still smell her on his face and fingers. He lifted a hand to his face and breathed in her scent. He hadn’t been lying about loving the taste of her. She was the best of all his lovers. Except for Judith of course.

  Helena moved faster and took Ben deeper into her mouth. He was coasting up to the edge of his second orgasm when Helena took her mouth away. He sighed his displeasure but Helena just laughed, reached out and dug her fingers into a pot of face cream by the bed.

  She took a big gob of the cream and smeared it around the end of his cock. The cream was cold after the warmth of Helena’s mouth but it wasn’t unpleasant. Helena rubbed the cream around the end and down the length of his shaft. Her slippery palm and fingers kept him hard.

  Ben was wondering what she had in mind when Helena raised herself up and straddled him with her knees. She took hold of his cock and guided it between the cheeks of her butt.

  “Oh my God,” he said. “Really?”

  Helena smiled. “I want to know you in every way possible before I let you go.”

  Ben smiled back, but only to hide his suspicion. Was there some hidden meaning to that last comment? He couldn’t always tell with Helena.

  His suspicions faded when he felt her puckered hole open to let him in. It gripped his cock, warm and delightfully tight. Ben thrust upwards in his excitement and a pained expression crossed Helena’s face.

  She placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “Wait,” she said. “Let me get used to you. It’s a bit painful if you go too hard at first.”

  Ben relaxed and sank back on the bed. Helena slid down him till her buttocks pressed against his thighs. Her intense green eyes were hooded with desire and her brown, shoulder length hair fell around her face, still messy from bed.

  Ben caught her gaze. There was a shared moment of illicit excitement, of forbidden thrills and delightful violation. She rocked her hips as she got used to the feel of him inside this new part of her and welcomed him further in.

  Helena put her middle finger in her mouth and wet it with her tongue. Then she reached between her legs and found her clitoris. Her hips moved faster as she began to bring herself to orgasm.

  Ben wasn’t far off himself. He tried to hold himself back to let Helena come, but she was riding him fiercely now and he was losing control.

  Helena’s shoulders shook as she forced herself onto him, taking him further into her. Her hand moved quickly between her legs and she let out a deep moan.

  Ben felt his orgasm start at the soles of his feet. It raced up his legs and engulfed his whole body. He almost had an out-of-body experience as he came, leaving his body along with the sperm that he shot deep inside Helena.

  There was a timeless moment of bliss that seemed to stretch forever and just as Ben was coming down from it, Helena reached her own peak, arching her back with a welcome sob that became a full throated cry. Her head fell forward, her shoulders dropped and as the last of her orgasm washed over her she collapsed on his chest.

  Ben held her to him, panting as the last of his climax subsided in waves of diminishing pleasure. He was soft now and shrinking inside her. Helena rolled off him, leaving him with a feeling of regret and relief.

  “Methought I was enamoured of an ass,” Ben said, quoting A Midsummer Night’s Dream. “Oh good, sweet Bottom,” Helena replied, countering his quote with another.

  With Helena no longer on top of him, Ben took the opportunity to slip out of the bed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s late and I have to get back.”

  He was completely spent and the post coital urge to flee was starting to assert itself. Helena rolled over. “Well you better go then,” she said, lighting a cigarette with her back to him.

  Ben scanned the floor. Where had he thrown his boxer shorts? On second thought he’d better leave them off, considering where he’d just been. He wandered through to the bathroom. No time for a shower, best he just wash himself in the sink.

  He heard footsteps as he was lathering his crotch. “And back to Athens shall the lovers wend,” said Helena leaning in the doorway. Another line from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. He wiped the soap suds off his mouth and chin. “Removing every trace of me?” she said. “Is this what you do before you go back to her?”

  “I... err, didn’t mean for you to see me like this. Sorry, I guess it’s a bit insensitive isn’t it? I’m not trying to be rude.” He smiled. “Take the sense sweet of my innocence.” More lines from the play.

  “Lysander riddles very prettily,” she countered, keeping up the game. The play had become the secret subtext of their brief affair. It was how they negotiated their way round the infidelity.

  It was also a method of controlling him. Helena was older and more educated, but not as sexually confident as him, in spite of her surprise performance this evening.

  They’d met in a bar where he liked to hang out. He’d seen her around quite a few times before that and knew she was checking him out. He’d played it cool and waited for her to make the first move.

  When she did he found that she’d learned quite a lot about him. He was kind of flattered by this. He knew his ‘bunny boiler alarm’ should have been ringing but she was smart and sophisticated and didn’t seem the stalker type, plus she knew how to be discreet. Discretion was essential. He didn’t want his partner Judith finding out.

  Helena worked in the theatre. She knew of a big production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream that was being cast. She thought he’d be a natural for one of the lovers. She offered to coach him for the audition. He had no experience but she thought he had natural talent.

  It was a come on, an excuse for them to meet. He was half-hearted about the acting but whole-hearted about the sex. Unlike the acting, he had a lot of experience at that. He was getting better at the quotations, but that was still her speciality and she never let him forget it.

  He headed back to the bedroom to dress. Helena followed him. “So far be distant; and goodnight sweet friend,” she said, slipping her arms around his shoulders and leaning in for a kiss. She pushed her crotch against his cock but she wasn’t going to get any response out of it this time.

  Her lips were sloppy and he tried to avoid her tongue. He could smell the stale sweat on her armpits. He’d had his fun and wanted out of there as quickly as possible.

  His usual tactic was to fake sympathy. To flash his beautiful brown eyes and pretend he hated to leave. A few drawn out kisses on the way to the door would then lead to a hasty exit. Helena wasn’t having any of it. Something in her manner suggested it wasn’t going to be so easy tonight.

  She’d given the impression she was building up to something the last couple of times he’d seen her. He thought for a moment it might have been the anal. Now he was wondering if he was right to be suspicious earlier.

  She left him alone to dress but she was waiting for him at the door. She’d found a skimpy silk robe and had freshened her make up. He didn’t like the lipstick she was wearing.
<
br />   He took a deep breath and leaned in for a kiss. She placed a finger on his lips and stopped him midway. Then reached up and placed a kiss on each of his eyelids whispering, “Churl upon your eyes I throw, all the power this charm doth owe.”

  He reeled and for a moment it felt like he lost consciousness. He was still on his feet when he came to seconds later and heard Helena say, “Lysander, if you live, good sir awake.”

  “And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.” He had no idea why he said that but as soon as he did he realised he was hopelessly in love with Helena. He hadn’t a clue how it happened. It was like being hit by a thunderclap. As it said in the play, ‘brief as the lightning in the collied night’, but just as sudden and irrevocable.

  Helena smiled, obviously pleased with herself. “And what of Judith?”

  “No, I do repent the tedious minutes I with her have spent.”

  “Good,” said Helena. “Then you’re finally going to tell her you’re leaving aren’t you.” Was he? He loved Judith. He couldn’t remember when he’d decided to leave her, but suddenly it seemed inevitable.

  “It’ll kill her,” he said. “How do I tell her? I don’t think I can.” He felt a mounting sense of panic. It was all happening so quickly. One minute he was trying to make a quick getaway, the next he was planning to leave Judith. Helena came to his rescue with a quote, “For aught that I could ever read, could ever hear by tale or history...”

  “... the course of true love never did run smooth.”

  “You know what the secret is?”

  “No.”

  Helena leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Sacrifice. Make certain you tell her that.” She kissed his cheek, opened the front door and saw him out.

  * * *