Georgie struggles to escape his cosmic captivity while welcoming a very special, very anonymous guest.
The author reads a novel excerpt from the new ‘Peurotique’ genre - a bold mix of erotica, giallo, noir and science fiction.
You are invited!
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Excerpt from La Tarentule Confite(read by anonymous guest author):
I took a deep breath as the door opened and a figure entered. The street sound was barely audible now. Something that had been off, now flashed on: A pulsating, amorphously-shaped lamp, casting an alien downpour of cascading light down the wall from a mirrored ceiling. Sitting atop an esoteric electronic console with flashing buttons, this module divided the room between the closet I was now hiding inside. The three other mirrored walls, along with the ceiling, created a prism of peculiar, shadowless light from the surrealist Murano fixture, that caused the room to appear much larger while also feeling claustrophobic.
Due to the relatively confined space, I could glimpse within a small sliver of sight, almost all of the room in front of me. I had had just enough time to orient myself, make a space in this closet, pulling the door to, before a key was inserted into a doorknob that twisted as my current subject of observation sauntered in and switched on the sculptural glass light.
Before me, in the center of the minimally decorated room, was a creature of a strange and mysterious beauty, whose languidly articulate movements, though subtle, somehow seemed wildly supernatural. Its flamboyant haute couture costume consisted of a skintight black bodysuit, tall banana boots, with a tiger orange, banana and turquoise cape draped high over its slender shoulders beneath a long electric blue bob. It brazenly whipped its hair as it flung the cowl away, while seeming to light a cigarette. In a single motion, it glided elegantly to a console of flashing primary and secondary-colored buttons, throwing a switch that filled the room with an eerie, otherworldly ambience layered atop a rhythmic pulse.
From somewhere out of frame, a wine bottle and goblet were produced, poured and swallowed, again seemingly in one single magician’s movement. I had forgotten that I was actually crouched inside of a closet or that I was on this earthly plane at all. This fascinating creature now moved directly into my eyeline once more, threw an arm back over its shoulder, and slowly unzipped the black bodysuit, lowered it seductively while seeming to pout and bite its lower lip of a vivid blood-red. I felt as though it were looking directly at me until I realized the closet doors were mirrored as well, sliced out from a fourth reflective wall.
Where the bodysuit had just been revealed a form of pale blue body paint, somehow un-smeared, colored the limbs, torso and neck all the way to the jawline, wrists and the border of bright magenta briefs. In another slight-of-hand action, the knee-high banana boots, with two quick unzips and athletic kicks in swift succession, flew out of sight to reveal cherry red knee stockings and lean, graceful pale blue thighs, now bicycled above as the body fell back to a reclining posture on the edge of a mattress in front of the electronic console.
With knees bent sharply and pressed together as the arches of the feet angled downward, toes pointed and digging deep into the plush, ashen carpet, the fragile fingers of this hypnotic being now turned their attention to the sheer magenta under things. They carefully peeled the soft layer away up the smooth blue thighs, now once again angled up above the flat, undulating belly. Every careful movement was slow and deliberate, filling the space with a hot, moist air of compressed anticipation. I gazed breathlessly, mesmerized by the hallucination unfolding before me, this dream of a soft-focus film of someone else’s deeply sensual and fragmented memories.
As this enigma reclined once more to the bed, extended legs now falling limp and akimbo, only the ambient hum from the console, a throbbing in my ears and heavy breathing could be heard. My eyes strained through the narrow door opening and, uninvited, followed the dextrous digits back down, across the stomach, two hands fanning then down over the groin into a sliding grip up the incline of the thigh, now again lifting. They moved farther to the clinging cherry socks, one leg at a time, in what seemed slow motion. Each was unpeeled for thousands of years until discarded like the brilliant skins of twin snakes, now twisted and collapsed along the gray rug.
The taut legs dropped as this majestic bird sat up sharply with an arched back, bringing two forefingers to its soft, wet mouth, first licking them with a coiled tongue and then sucking them within rouged cheeks, blue-shadowed eyes closed, before plunging them down between fleshy thighs and falling back again onto the op-art duvet, chin jutting up with a guttural moan. The bare legs buckled back, compressed and spread fully apart as the curling toes compressed into talons, gripping the bedding as a throbbing tension built to a tempestuous culmination of shaking, gasping, panting, and then gradual resignation. The legs, now damp and extended out flat, still quiver.
The fingers then slid upwards across a now relaxed and glistening belly, to nipples that were soon caressed, fondled, then squeezed between index fingers and thumbs, sending more waves of pleasure through the heightened experience of this astral body. But the moment was short-lived, and the gentle touch became intense. Fingers squeezed and pulled at the tender flesh until… my mouth dropped open when I beheld this sight… each false nipple popped loose from the surface and was flicked aside like purple cigarette butts. The flesh beneath was smooth with only a suction ring where the appendages had been.
Then, before I had time to consider what I had just witnessed, the shape, in yet another singular and dancer-like motion, sat up and instantly stood upright. It then sashayed theatrically while whistling towards the lavatory, beyond the bed and console, and opposite the entrance. It briefly bowed into the mirrored wall to the right of the doorway with distracted attention before quickly peeling away each long, luscious eyelash and affixing them to the glass surface.
Colorful fingernails were, one by one, bitten off and spit out as the being stared into its own unique visage and a practiced, artificial smile spread across its lips. It was an odd pantomime that flickered on then and disappeared with each repetition. The reflected automaton eyes blinked mechanically as though testing out new lids. There was an uncanny quality to the movement that caused me to feel a distinct sense of disconnection from the outside world and myself. I felt that I could almost decipher a kind of Morse Code being communicated, as well as sense microscopic and barely-perceptible glances in my hidden direction.
Abruptly, what was now revealed as a wig was torn off to expose a smooth glossy scalp and thrown over its shoulder as it pushed aside the mirrored door of the bathroom. A harsh white light was switched on, an opaque glass shower door of engraved seashells was opened and a spray released from the curved faucet as the long slender form stepped inside. Its stunning physique was visible in the mirrored door of the lavatory, perfectly in line with my limited field of vision.
Steam poured from the shower, slowly creating a soft haze in the mirror. It temporarily offered a tantalizing view of a nude and supernaturally beautiful body, though I was soon to realize just how supernatural.
I became almost certain now that the creature was aware of my presence as its eyes seemed to meet mine through the misty reflection. It lathered itself with thick foamy soap in an almost deliberately lewd fashion now. Not (what I had assumed was) blue paint, but, instead, the human-colored pigment, washed down its legs and into the drain, revealing a complete figure of a luminous powder blue flesh. It turned to playfully smear the salamander lip shade across its cheek with the back of its hand, then seductively bit the lower lip once more while appearing to stare directly into my excited and terrified soul. I shuddered and shifted uncomfortably in the claustrophobic confines, a rat in a trap.
As my voyeurism continued, breath caught in my throat, I was unable to take my eyes away from this dazzling display, this soft blue being, with ethereal grace, traced patterns over its skin, remembering ersatz anatomy and pleasures of the past. Just before the mirror had completely fogged over, it turned its gaze back to me, dropped the sponge and then bent down to reach for it in an almost comically clichéd, seductive manner.
After some time, the bathroom light was switched off and the being emerged from the darkness wearing a shiny orchid kimono, loosely knotted at the waist and one side slouching to reveal a pale blue shoulder. It now appeared sans feature and mannequin-like and had removed contacts to reveal completely white eyes with no irises or pupils. It stretched its body and arms deep out of frame and came back with something on the back of its hand, resembling a polka-dotted tarantula.
It held the fat, furry arachnid up to its eyes and smiled, or the closest approximation to that expression as one can make with only the contoured suggestion of lips, and then turned facing me in my hiding place. As it slowly moved toward me, it began to hungrily devour the tarantula, chewing slowly as a dark liquid oozed down its chin. I fell into a gauzy, paralyzed trance, and all but the being was engulfed in a blinding white light as it reached the closet and threw open the doors.
ee11 • Fearotique: The Candied Tarantula