After hours and hours of delightful sex (with appropriate stops for hydration and lubrication and to see a Buffy rerun on TV and to eat pie and so on), Amy flopped back on the bed, panting. Jen lay prone beside her, her tentacles lazily caressing Amy's skin as they both basked in the aftermath of some truely mind-blowing orgasms. A stray sunbeam from the window lit dust motes in the air.
All was peaceful.
Then a stray thought hit Jen with all the power of a two-ton load of bricks. She sat bolt upright. Her tentacles lashed with fury as she rolled over the edge of the bed and stood up in a single motion. She looked at Amy, who was sitting up and looking very worried by this point.
"So what are we going to do about that motherfucker who did this to me," she growled.
Amy got up off the bed and walked over to her new lover. She caressed Jen's face and stared into her eyes, a truly evil grin beginning to form on her face.
"We are going to fuck him up."
----
Kyle Sweetums glared at his computer screen. Warcraft III wasn't loading.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!!"
He hit ctrl-alt-del. It didn't work. He hit escape thirty times. It didn't work. He hit the side of the monitor a few times to try to fix it. In a completely unsurprising turn of events, it didn't work.
He threw his wireless keyboard across the room. It hit his shelves with a resounding crash as 38 CDs, 3 action figures, 2 boxes of kleenex and 1 bottle of lotion tumbled down.
"KYLE!!!! YOU KEEP IT DOWN UP THERE!!! I'M WORKING!"
"I WILL, MOM!"
He got up and slammed the door, then threw himself onto the bed. "Stupid fucking cunt mothers and their stupid fucking cunt work. Who the hell needs quiet at eight at night? Stupid fucking cunt nazis, that's who." He gave the finger to the door.
Most other nights he would have brought out his journal and started planning ways to give his mother what she deserved. But tonight was different. Tonight, a tiny glow of satisfaction was burning in his shriveled heart. "At least I got that Jen bitch. Thinks she can ignore me and not know I exist? Hah. Fucking stuck-up whore got what she deserved."
He'd watched her from afar for an entire school year. He knew her class schedule, her weekend plans, her home address, her email, where she planned to go to college... everything! That kind of devotion should be rewarded, right? But no. When he'd finally gotten up the nerve to approach her and make conversation about her plans at 4:25 that Saturday to go to see the new Christian Bale movie and have dinner with her friends after, she'd blown him off! Like he was unimportant! And worse, he heard her laughing with her friends after about how that one guy was a total creeper!
"Okay, breathe. Breathe. Don't get worked up about this. You got that stupid cunt bitch. Bet she won't be blowing off anybody else with a vagina for a mouth... Heh, blowing..." His thoughts drifted off into pornographic territory.
Suddenly, Kyle heard a knocking at his window. He looked up sharply. Nothing. He stared at the window for a little bit. Still nothing. Weird. He went back to day dreaming.
One minute later, it came again, interrupting a particularly juicy secion of his fantasy. And yet there was still nothing there when he looked! He started getting pissed. After it didn't come for five minutes, he felt safe going back to his daydreaming. This time he put his hand down his pants and settled in.
But then it came again, just as he was about to come. This time, it kept on going and going and going and not stopping! Kyle leapt off of the bed in a blind rage, his semi-flaccid penis bobbling pathetically from his opened pants as he stalked towards the window. Something blue waved at him from the upper margins of the frame. He threw open the sash and stuck out his head.
"WHAT THE BLOODY FU--"
A sudden sharp pain exploded in his skull. Everything went to black.
----
Kyle groaned as he began to wake up. God, his head was killing him. Really weirdly, he didn't remember breaking into his parents' liquor cabinet. Can alcohol make you forget you even drank? Whatever. Either way, he had a headache from hell. And why was it so dark? Kyle got up to get some aspirin.
Or tried to.
When he felt the restraints, any last trace of sleepiness fled from his brain. He thrashed and yanked at them and rattled the chair they attached him to. The darkness came from a blindfold. He went still when he heard a voice from behind him.
"Well, well, I think our man is waking up."
Was that...?
"Yes, I believe he is. Do you want to explain his crimes, or shall I, dear?"
Oh god it was Jen! And Amy, her best friend! How the hell did Jen get away from the spell? It should have worked! It always worked! Maybe it did work and she wants to kill him? But how would she be talking with a vagina mouth?
All the questions chased each other in circles in his head. But all of them died as his blindfold was torn off and he blinked in the bright light.
He was restrained in what felt like a dentist's chair in a featureless grey room. To his right was Amy Giulianni, short and curvy and dark as ever. But her normally sweet face was twisted into the blackest expression of rage he'd ever seen. A cold tongue of fear snaked its way down his back. She was gripping a large nightstick with chilling familiarity.
"Wha-where am I" His voice shook.
"You're in my dear Amy's barn, Kyle."
He jerked his head over to the left. Standing there was Jen, tall and blond and nearly pulsating with restrained fury. She was wearing a halter top, which she almost never did. There was something moving behind her that the bright light shining in his face obscured... But that something moved over her shoulder, a sudden flash of clarity seared his brain like a bolt of lightning.
Tentacles. Blue tentacles were echoing her anger behind her, twining around each other and fanning out and lashing like a cat's tail. God they were beautiful and what they implied was even better. At the thought of her transforming he felt a half-hearted stirring in his pants. But the next words killed any thoughts of pleasure.
"Did you know that Amy's father's a mob boss? This is the room they usually use to torture snitches and informants." A truly unholy smile lit her face.
"It might be cliche, but nobody can hear you scream here," Amy chimed in from her side of the chair.
Jen laughed. "Don't worry. We won't leave you worse off than you left me."
Kyle turned his head towards Jen and suddenly focused on the table just past her. Knives of all sorts. Guns. Machetes. Strange twisted metal things that made his skin crawl just to see. Shudders built up until he reached his breaking point.
He screamed.
Amy picked up the ball gag.
"Time to begin, love."