by Gillian Zane
2
Now Watch Me Whip
The esteemed Prince of a large province called Thames Virdan landed his ship in the middle of a baseball field that was located smack dab in the center of an island in one of the most tightly packed cities he had ever had the misfortune to visit. He had heard from a random stranger that there were over 8 million beings that populated this city, 1.6 million on this island alone. He had never been prone to anxiety, but it was as if he could feel the heat of a million bodies in the air around him and it made his chest tight.
His home province had half of that population encompassing a region one hundred times the size. His realm made sense. This was illogical living if there ever was. He had to give them some credit, though. Their advancement in travel was nowhere near his realm’s, so this did make sense when it came to commuting to and from work. They were restricted to vehicles with wheels or rails, for the Creator’s sake. Wheels and rails! He missed his home and was grateful for the bounty of his realm a little more each day.
Roc pulled up the viewing screen so he could make sure there was no one in the area to witness the ship’s transition. A group of females, all in barely-there exercise attire rushed past on fast feet. They all had gadgets strapped to them, their long hair pulled up in tight ponytails and sweat dripped down their well-muscled bodies. So different from the women of his realm. Just the variety alone on this planet was staggering, and the amount? There were so many of them, all unique and varied. Their skin ranged from the palest of peaches to the dark brown of the richest of soil. Along with their skin variations, they also varied in their hair colors, size and shape, both men and women alike. Dark brunettes like the citizens of his neighbor realm Polari, to the lightest of blondes which were only recreated with dyes on his planet. Some even had dark black hair like the people of his realm. And if that wasn’t enough, some men and women colored their hair in bright birdlike shades to look different, making them stand out in a crowd with odd pinks and greens. There were so many of them, it must take drastic measures like this to stand out in a crowd.
He watched the group of exercising women run by, not one glancing in his ship’s direction. He knew none of them was the one he searched for, but he had never seen a woman in such little clothing before he had come here, except for the few times he had managed to bed one. His dick hardened and he scowled at it. He cursed his own realm’s small population. He might not like this crowded place, but the sight of females behaving in such a free manner was inspiring. Maybe one day his own world could flourish like this one.
“If females were as prevalent as they are on this planet, we would have this kind of population, and women could act in such a fashion…” Rochford of Thames, Roc for short, had gotten into the habit of talking to himself in his native tongue as the isolation of his travels set in. He had spent a little over one of his planet’s rotations on Earth, and he was feeling homesick, especially in a congested city like this New York place. He yearned for the wide-open grass plains of his homeland. Real grass, not this odd cultivated green stuff. Green grass? It was so bizarre. He needed to get this mission over with and get back home to where things made sense.
Roc engaged the space folding mechanism and the ship faded out of existence, bending space around it so it didn’t exist in this time frame. It was a handy trick, especially in situations like this. He opened a door to the plane he wanted to be on and stepped out onto the bright green grass in which he had placed his ship. Holding up his wrist, he keyed in the retrieval coordinates and closed the door.
He had been in New York for a week, using nothing but his senses to guide him where he needed to be. His intuition told him this was the final trek; this was where he was supposed to be. He felt like he had been searching for so long with little results.
He was done searching. If he didn’t find what he was looking for tonight, he would have to take drastic measures. He stepped out into the night, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the city, exhaust from their vehicles, with the underlying smell of the flowers blooming around him. When the humans eradicated their exhaustive use of fossil fuels, this city would surely be a sight to behold. It wouldn’t be that long; his own people had relied on explosive technology a millennium ago until they found better ways. One day the humans would as well.
The night was just beginning, and even though it was late, the glow from the city never let it get too dark. No matter where he ventured, it was never too dark. Even in this empty field where they played sports during the day, and there were no lights, he was able to see without aid. He made his way out of the short-grassed field and onto the main walkways of the park. He smelled food almost immediately and his stomach grumbled. He hadn’t taken his nutritional supplement.
The humans of Earth had lots of strange customs. One of which was selling food from little carts and vehicles. He was unsure how these foods were prepared, but the humans seemed to love the little mobile food sellers and stood in long lines to buy their wares. He was hungry and tired of his supplements, so he approached the nearest food vendor.
“Food,” he paused and then added the nice word that was mandatory in this language to get things done, “please.”
“What do ya want? I got mocha, caramel, peach, strawberry?” the vendor asked Roc. He had no clue what the first two were, but he knew that the peach was a fruit. He wanted more than just fruit but thought this might be a good start.
“Peach.”
“Whip or no whip?” The vendor asked the oddest questions.
“Is it necessary to beat my food before serving?” Roc asked.
“What? C’mon man, there’s a line, stop fuckin’ with me. Whip or no whip?”
“Fine, whip it, if you find this necessary,” Roc grumbled.
“Whip it good,” the person behind Roc said with a laugh, and a few others joined them in their odd joke. He didn’t understand their careless mocking but was not one to let a slight impact him. He turned and glared at the man behind him. The man was nearly a foot shorter than Roc and underweight. He was used to intimidation due to his sheer size. In his realm, he was more of an anomaly than on Earth. The average male on his planet usually being about four hands shorter than Roc, females about five. There were quite a few Earth men in this region that were as big as, if not bigger than Roc, but it was still not that common. So much so, that people had a habit of walking up to him and stating plainly, “Man, you’re big.”
It was another odd habit of the humans, stating the obvious.
Roc glared down at the small man. He stepped back, knocking into the two people behind him. He held up his hands in an act of submission and Roc grunted his acceptance of the man’s supplication. He turned around and stared at the vendor who was holding out a cup filled with an orange drink, covered in a white frothy looking paste.
“What is this?” Roc asked in horror.
“Your peach mochifrappi with whip. It’s what you ordered, dumbass. That’ll be $12.85.”
3
Ice Cream and Cat Vids
Bobbie’s apartment was located in Inwood, an hour-long train ride from her work. When she finally got off at her stop and trudged up the steps to the main street that would take her to her tiny apartment, she was feeling pretty damn sorry for herself. She looked longingly at the closed bakery across the street, thinking how relaxing it would be to eat her weight in eclairs.
Then the skinny bitch inside of her called her a fat cow, and that fantasy went out the window. The bakery closed early anyway, and because of Bobbie’s schedule, she had never been able to taste their tempting wares. Another fact that niggled at her life sucks list. She decided on the walk up to her apartment that she didn’t need to eat away her troubles when she had a few wine bottles she had confiscated from the last client party. She had been saving them for a rainy day. Today seemed like a perfect ‘rainy day’.
The first thing Bobbie did when she got into her apartment was kick off her shoes, chuck her bra across the room, and pour some wine
. It was cheap wine, but it would do the job. She sat in front of her computer and pulled up her favorite social media site. Nothing like zoning out to videos of people falling down steps and off trampolines to lighten her mood.
After the second glass of wine, she was feeling much better and her sides were hurting because of all of the laughing over the latest Fred the Ass post. That guy was hilarious, and his cat was even better. She couldn’t figure out how he got the little guy to do the stuff he did.
Her phone chirped, and she switched it to Do Not Disturb, thinking it was a co-worker, but she happened to glance at the screen first. It was her bestie, or the friend she thought of as her bestie. She wasn’t sure what Viv thought of her, since the girl seemed to have so many friends compared to Bobbie. Bobbie figured she was just “another friend” to Viv, but to Bobbie she was only one of two.
Viv: Whatcha doing girl?
Bobbie: Being lame.
Viv: Coming to get you in 30. Got ur tix to party at Xink.
Bobbie started typing but before she could type in a reply, another message popped up from Viv.
Viv: Don’t even try to back out. You said you were going.
Bobbie: IDK
Viv: Stop being lame, c’mon.
Bobbie: I had a crappy day.
Viv: You told Chuck you’d be there, he’s got that auction thing.
Bobbie: FML I did say that.
Viv: Be there in 10.
Bobbie: You said 30!
Viv: Just slap on some make-up, I have a dress for you.
Bobbie stood in a panic. Her place was a mess. There was an open container of cookie butter on the coffee table and a pizza box from last night that she hadn’t bothered to clean up. Viv would judge her and find her lacking if she saw this mess. She needed to hide all the evidence. And now. There was one thing you could say about Bobbie, she moved quickly when motivated. She didn’t have time to put makeup on, though. She might have tripped a few times, but she blamed it on the wine, and not her usual suckage.
Ten minutes later her bell rang and Viv pushed her way through the door. She was a whirlwind of perfume, crinkling laundry bags and clacking heels.
“Where is your make-up? I guess I’m going to have to do that, too!” she said by way of greeting.
“O.M.Gee, girl, did you wear that to work?” she chided, not letting Bobbie get a word in.
“I had a bra on at the time,” Bobbie defended her pantsuit.
“You look like Hillary,” Viv scoffed.
“She’s got mad style for a senior citizen.” Bobbie was on the defensive.
“You are twenty-nine, not a senior citizen.”
“Thirty.”
“Hush, do not speak of that. Here’s the dress, but let me do your makeup first.” She brandished the strip of fabric, not giving Bobbie the chance to say no. The first thing to cross Bobbie’s mind was the dress was ridiculous. Bobbie picked up the plastic laundry bag with the slip of material in it to see if she was missing something. Maybe there was another part to it?
“It looks like a few pieces of material slapped together,” Bobbie frowned.
“It’ll look hot. You’re going to get auctioned off for charity tonight. You gotta make ‘em pay more. That dress will make them whip out their credit cards.”
“Wait, what? Is that what Chuck had in mind when he asked me to help out? Oh my God, I can’t do that! I thought I would be holding an iPad or something, directing guests to the auction tables.”
“Oh, yes you will. You’ll make some money for charity and get a date. Maybe get laid. Win, win, bitches! That bastard is smart.” She snapped her fingers and rummaged through Bobbie’s meager supply of make-up.
“Oh, hell no! Isn’t that like prostitution?” Bobbie stepped back and flung up her hands. She was not going to do this. Not even if it was for the best charity in the world.
“You told Chuck you would do it. If you back out now, he’ll never forgive you, you know how he is. We’ll never get into any of the clubs, you have to do this!” Viv whined.
“Why aren’t you doing this?”
“He tried, but Steven said no way, and yeah, I guess that makes sense since we are dating,” she laughed.
“Yeah, because he knows it’s like prostitution. He’s a smart man, you should hold onto that one.”
“It’s not prostitution. You don’t have to sleep with them. But if you are feeling the chemistry, I would go with the flow!” Viv winked and pushed Bobbie into a chair. She whipped out a makeup brush and began to work.
“Gah! I can’t believe you guys are making me do this,” Bobbie whined but pursed her lips when Viv squeezed her cheeks.
“You are doing this.” Viv poked her and began sprinkling powder on her face. Bobbie fell quiet as Viv went to work, her hands quick and practiced. She had gotten the knack of makeup application from her day job where she had become a jack-of-all-trades. She could do hair, make-up, and fashion in a few minutes, all under pressure and with someone screaming at her.
She flicked the makeup brush one more time and then sat back, inspecting her final product.
“It’ll do. Now get dressed.” Viv patted the plastic covered fabric.
“Where did you get this anyway?” Bobbie unzipped the fabric protector and pulled out the dress.
“Today’s photoshoot. The model looked really hot in it.” Viv shrugged. “Thought it would suit you.”
“I can’t fit in anything a model can wear.”
“It was a plus-size photoshoot.” Viv smiled big and Bobbie scowled at her.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Bobbie sighed.
“Hey, those plus models are actually just normal sized girls. I swear the biggest girl was a twelve, and big is in right now. I wish I had your tits and your ass.” Viv ran her hands over her small breasts and frowned. She was stick thin and could eat more than most grown men. She worked in the fashion industry and often told stories of how the vendors sometimes mistook her for one of the models. It wasn’t cute.
“Yeah, and I wish I had your metabolism, so bite me.” Bobbie wasn’t feeling charitable at the moment.
“Put on the damn dress, stop feeling sorry for yourself and let’s get to the damn party. Maybe we’ll both get laid tonight.”
“I don’t need to get laid,” Bobbie pouted.
“Yes, you do. When’s the last time you got some, and Marlin doesn’t count. Sucking him off in the supply closet is not getting laid. When was the last time you had an orgasm that wasn’t caused by that plastic dick in your side table? By the way, I saw on Instagram that he’s engaged? You guys aren’t still fucking around, are you?”
“Why am I friends with you, you’re such a bitch?” Bobbie growled instead of answering. Viv glanced at Bobbie’s face and grimaced.
“You didn’t know, did you? Ugh, sorry about that, chick.” She patted Bobbie on the back half-heartedly. “Stop glaring at me like that, you love me. I shoot straight, you wouldn’t have it any other way!”
“I found out today, and yes, we were still hooking up in the supply closet.” Bobbie said the last little bit under her breath. Hindsight was always 20/20, and in this situation, Bobbie looked like a fool. Marlin and Bobbie had gone on a total of maybe five dates. They had sex after the second date and fell into an instant “old relationship,” where they did boring things and hooked up every now and again when they weren’t busy doing other boring things. The sex had been mediocre at best, and yawn worthy at most. Bobbie had worked up the nerve to end it, but Marlin had quickly tried to pursue her again with a vigor she had never witnessed in their one-year relationship. This ended in some of the best sex she had ever had with him, but nothing near like the best sex she had ever had (with Johnny Miller her sophomore year of college, the only guy who had given her a multiple orgasm, then proceeded to give her bestie those orgasms the next night, then tried to talk them into all doing it the third night). Because the sex with Marlin was better when they were broken up, they started a routine
of sneaking off at work and hooking up in the closets. This soon led to boring and routine sneaking around, which for the last six months had consisted of her sucking him off, expecting him to reciprocate, but he had to hurry off to some errand and Bobbie was left wanting.
“Better now than later,” Viv shrugged. “This way you’re free to suck off as many men as you want in supply closets and not feel guilty!”
Bobbie glared at her friend harder and Viv winked.
“Get dressed!” She stopped fighting, grabbed the dress and went to her bedroom to change. She laid the material on the bed and looked at it with trepidation. Her day spun through her head like a broken movie and she didn’t know if she wanted to scream or cry. What she wanted to do was forget. And a night out, maybe some drinking—maybe even some of the good stuff from Chuck—would definitely help her forget. At least for tonight.
With a sigh of resignation, she grabbed the dress and wrestled it on. She glanced at herself in the mirror and gaped. Viv was right about the dress, even though Bobbie would never say it out loud. The dress was flattering and sexy on her. It was a bohemian style print dress, cut short to the tops of her thighs. The plunging neckline wouldn’t allow Bobbie to wear a bra, so she slipped it off through the sleeves. The flowing material did wonders for hiding the rolls and bit of belly that made her self-conscious.
“Got it on?” Viv cried, opening the door even though Bobbie didn’t answer. “Holy Buddha’s balls, you look fuckable!”
“Thanks, I guess,” Bobbie said and turned back to the mirror to work on keeping her boob in place. If she turned too fast, it popped out of the dress.
“I got tape.” Viv held up a packet of apparel tape. She began tugging on the dress and applied a piece to each one of Bobbie’s breasts to keep the material from revealing too much. She turned Bobbie to the mirror and looked over her shoulder at the transformed woman. Viv grinned and it was contagious, Bobbie grinned back. Viv had done an excellent job on Bobbie’s makeup and hair, and combined with the ultra-sexy dress, for once Bobbie felt sexy. Looking in the mirror and thinking that was a big step in positive thinking for her.
