Christmas on Crack (11 page)

“Oh
god,” Double moans as the moisture in his neg- end squeezes out acidic
lubrication by the pint, “oh my god, this is just too much.”

Alka
spikes his tendrils and battery-teeth deeper into Double’s body. “What was
that, bitch?”

Double
struggles to leave Alka’s grip for Amp and Discharge, shouting “C’mon, we’ve
had enough!”

Amp
wraps his tendrils around Double and attempts to fill Double’s ends with his
own energy to block out Alka’s. “Double,” he says, “follow my energy beat. Let
me get inside you, and you will get inside me.”

Double
then feels a calmer and more relaxed form of stimulation flow into him. The
poz- and neg-ends still flow back and forth, but the tendril-play is less
damaging and Double can hear himself think. Amp’s many mouths kiss Double from
one end to the other, cuddling him and stroking the pecs and breasts instead of
squeezing them.

“What
about Discharge?” Double asks.

“I
have Discharge too,” Amp says as Discharge joins in and feeds in and out of
them both to make a threesome. “Don’t worry. If we hold together then Alka
can’t exhaust us all. Our lovemaking will be safer.”

Alka
tightens his bonds and breaks the three out of the calmness. “Don’t you fucking
dare try to make this boring for me. C’mon, one at a time, I’m going to make
you all
squeal
.”

Double
does his best to feel more toward Amp than toward Alka, failing to ignore the
pounding and tingle- binding. As Double reaches orgasm, his limbs all flail
about while his ends swell up like balloons. Outside, the little boy catches
the teddy bear which has now started to spasm with its eyes rolling in the back
of its head. All the grown-ups shout and scream about Happy Companion Buddy
Bear being Satan himself. Scared and crying, the little boy smashes the bear
against the floor several times, breaking its limbs and popping open the hatch
on the batteries. On the boy’s last upward swing, Double, Amp, Discharge, and
Alka are flung from the bear’s body. Double can’t catch Discharge and Amp with
his orgasm still ripping through him, yet watches Alka’s tendrils catch both
of them. Double’s happy and tickly feelings then fizzle out as he flies through
the air and lands in the Christmas tree. He tumbles down the branches loaded
with pretty lights, shining bulb ornaments, and smiling cartoon characters,
crashing and rolling from the bottom of the tree to find that the other three
batteries are gone.
Amp,
he thinks while looking around the other toys and pulling
all his parts back into his body,
just hold on. I’ll find help. Alka’s too dangerous, I won’t
let him take you or Discharge away.

A
moment later, Double finds a hussy husky bent forward in the corner behind the
tree with her paw hovering over the single-battery slot under her skirt. Her
makeup is smeared over a black eye and the bra under her fishnet shirt has torn
wires. Double rolls up and places himself near her crotch, and with the force
of will he lifts himself onto the slot, where the hussy husky creaks her paw
forward to pull Double in and start using him to masturbate. “Please,” Double
says as sweaty warmth begins to rise in his body, “you need to help me.”

The
hussy husky opens her mouth, and with a Billie Holiday voice she says, “Tell
me what you need me to do, hon.” Double tries to settle his breathing as he says,
“I need you to help me look for some other batteries. They should be on the
floor somewhere.”

She
stops masturbating and begins crawling on the floor and sniffing, bouncing her
booty around with Double’s body giving her wet tickles. All the grown-ups have
taken the children away for the moment, having left during Double’s carpet
rolling in order to seek the comfort and protection of a preacher. “Do they
please as well as you do, sugar?” she rasps.

Double
projects the memory of Alka’s surges and dominations through her wires, and
she jumps with her hind legs quivering.

After
a warm sigh she reaches back to stroke Double’s body again, giggling, “Now
that’s how you offer a reward, sweetie.” Then, as she sniffs around the Elder
God Eggs, she says, “Tell me, what’s your name? My real name is a big number so
you can just call me Barkode.”

“Double”
is said through a short spark.

“Well
Double, if we find these other batteries of yours and they’re as good as you
are, then I might have the best

Christmas
ever.” Barkode leaves the Elder God Eggs and sifts around pieces of wrapping
paper discarded in various spots of floor, sniffing between short moans. Her
paws turn over several layers, taking short breaks to rattle off pieces of
scotch tape that stick to her fur. Then, the scent hits her nose: musky
electric sweat. Over by an open battery package, she spots a large, breathing
shell of wrapping paper. After she swats the paper aside she finds not a few
batteries but a great wire-coated clump of them. Their skins slink and slough
away from their bodies and their body parts squirm around their thrusting
positives and negatives. Dean Martins’ “Baby it’s Cold Outside” hums through
surround sound speakers, intermixed with the crackles and squishes of their
lovemaking. “Mmm-mmm,” she hums. “Looks like we found us a party.”

Two
spasms in Double’s body pass through him, the warmer spasm for Amp and
Discharge, and the colder spasm for Alka. He pulls both feelings into his
middle as Barkode delivers him to the piled battery orgy by crawling on top of
them. With the hatch still free in Barkode’s crotch, Double feels tendrils
reach up from the pile and caress his body, filling him with the many moans and
grunts coming from each battery.

A
blunt voice crawls over the other sounds and grabs Double. “That’s right,
sugar-knobs. You can’t say no to Alka’s lovin’ for long.”

Double’s
scream rumbles up through his body and knocks all the moaning and grunting
away, pulling his own body into aches and burning feelings. “Where are Amp and
Discharge? You have all you want, now give them back to me!”

“You
already have them because I have you.”

Barkode
sticks more batteries in her ears and bites off plastic bits of her flesh to
plug in even more, humping the pile. “Double, honey, you really are being a
mood-killer,” she says as she reaches into her crotch and tosses him out. As
Double feels the last shock of a “No!” by Alka, he hears Barkode say, “Why
don’t you make yourself useful and go ask some of my sisters to join?”

Double
comes to a rolling halt by the plastic doctors and P.O.W.s of My First Unit
731. One doctor tucks the colorful wires under his coat back between his legs
and lifts Double up. The doctor strains to take him to a small operating table,
knocking away tiny toy syringes and scalpels. He pushes a button and the
dissected and diseased flesh on the Korean P.O.W. flips over to normal skin.
The doctor holds Double above his head and says, “A beautiful discovery! We can
now test a new weapon -- the gigantic hyper-sexualized battery!”

Other
wire-fed doctors clap, one of them shouting, “Dr. Itoi, you are a genius!”

“
Nippon
saiko no!”
shouts Dr. Itoi in response as he
shakes his fist and struggles to catch Double thereafter. He then clears his
throat and says, “My hypothesis is that if the patient receives an orgasm from
the device, then the patient dies in the process as his heart fails and his
breathing clips short from the pleasure of the act and the tearing in his
groin muscles.”

A
second cheer cuts down as one doctor says, “But what makes you believe that
this is a reliable process?” Double attempts to escape but is thwarted. The
dimpled ends of Dr. Itoi’s grin curl above his surgical mask as he pops open
the patient’s side hatch and says, “We have the materials and the test
subjects. Now we apply and observe.”

Double’s
ends sting as he is stuffed into the slot. Once the patient turns on, however,
he feels wiry whips flail and tear on his skin, and the first cry from his body
sprouts through the patient’s mouth.

“We’re
looking right at success, gentlemen! Is the feeling not better than Christmas
cake in your bellies?”

“No!”
Double’s puppet shouts as both sets of Double’s nipples feel themselves peel from
his chests on the hands of the puppet. “I have friends who are in danger and
need help!” “Of course they are in danger,” says Dr. Itoi, “them and all the
other P.O.W. rats such as yourself.” He then laughs and adds, “And we
are
helping them!” to an immediate
clapping cheer.

“No,
I could care less about them. I’m talking about the other batteries in that
pile over there.”

Dr.
Itoi cocks an eyebrow. “So you are telling me that you make friends with
batteries.”

Double
struggles against his jittering body as the sticky heat molds his skin. Trying
to hold his new voice together from his gasps of pain and pleasure, he says,
“No, I am the battery. I’d tell you about how it feels in here, but there isn’t
a lot of time. You need to get me over to that pile right now!”

Dr.
Itoi leans over the patient-puppet and removes his mask to show his
wide-toothed and moon-shaped grin, cooing, “And why should we?”

Double’s
pleading cuts short at that question, crossing sets of arms over both of his
chests and feeling numb to the penetration and the whipping. With a sigh, he
says, “I know you really want to be a bad guy. That’s just fine. Just leave the
power source of a ton of slutty batteries alone and forget about being able to
hear screaming patients.”

Dr.
Itoi opens his massively-toothed mouth to smack his lips and lean closer to the
patient-puppet. “But it’s Christmas,” he whispers. “You won’t be the huge scientific
discovery I was wishing for if everyone else gets to have batteries like you. I
feel inferior enough just by being part of a
toy
version of Unit 731 that cannot even
perform the Cherry Blossoms at Night without a toy version of California and
toy airplanes. Please, just help me fulfill my Christmas wish.”

Double’s
snark softens as he feels a bubble of sympathy float up through his body and
pop into an idea. He holds onto the feeling as he slips back under the
lashings. “You’ve taken credit for it, so just claim everything that ever gets
done with the batteries. I mean really, who’s going to stop you?”

Dr.
Itoi’s eyes roll to the top lids as he mouths enormous words and pokes at
imaginary figures. After a second or so of that, he turns back and says, “You
may be right, my bubble-bursting friend.” Once he says that last word, the high
curves of his grin droop down to the ground as his ears perk toward a
collective of constricted barking noises as the other hussy huskies have begun
to pile onto the batteries one after another, humping the mound and biting off
their skins to stuff more electric-cum-greased batteries inside. “Oh hell no,”
he mutters, then clears his throat and gestures to the other doctors. “Yes, the
experiment was a success. Now hurry, we must take all the other batteries from
the pile!”

The
other doctors whoop and cheer as they rush their patient-laden tables toward
the pile in the same style as shopping carts being rushed just the night
before. Some of them trip over and get their wheels caught in the wires leading
into the bodies of the other doctors, especially those of Dr. Itoi. Soon Dr.
Itoi crashes into the pile and Double spills out of the hatch. “We claim these
resources for the glory of
Japan
!”
he shouts. “You whorish dogs will have none!” Brenda Lee’s “Rockin Around the
Christmas Tree” slides and taps into the air as the doctors load moist and
writhing batteries onto each of their tables. The hussy huskies turn over to
gyrate among the orgy and throw orgasm-induced kicks at the doctors as more of
them try to take the batteries away from them. Double rolls around the pile in
a circle, looking for the same brand as Amp and the same expiration date as
himself and Discharge. At the first sight of discoloration, he pops his ends
in place with another battery and reaches his tendrils out to stroke and tease
the other’s body. “I’m Double,” he says, “are you Amp?”

“You
can call me whatever you like,” says the other in a moan as he throws his limbs
around Double and leaks fluid from his positive end, “but you should save the
touch for my tender bellybuttons.”

Double
forces himself off of him and ignores his own moistening neg-end, saying “Not
Amp.”

He
then gets a rare glimpse of the expiration date on the soft belly of another
one and reaches his body up to lick it, groping around the plush and the solid
while saying, “Discharge, is that you?”