A/N The Artist Formerly known as Mac or ～゜・_・゜～, as she'd prefer to be called, came out of fic retirement to write this terrible entry with me (BellaFlan) for Jaspersdestiny's Worst Story Ever Told contest. We didn't win. But we did laugh our asses off writing this. Hope you enjoy it :)
MOST ERRors are INTenTionAl. All your bad grammar are belong to us.
-PEN NAMES: macflan (Bellaflan and mac214)
- PAIRING: Edward and Bella the Blow up Doll
- SUMMARY: A sweeping epic tale of love and loss between and manpire and his sex dolly. BDSM. Sorta canon pairings. Kinda.
- DISCLAIMER: one of us lost a bet. This is pure crack and silliness. We own nothing and are off our respective medications.
~Prologue~
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I like taking a dump. It's the only chance I get to really be me.
It's difficult for me to relate to other people. All they ever seem to think about is sex or money or their cat. They don't understand what it's like to be me: Edward Anthony Masen Crimefighter Rumour Willis-Kutcher Cullen. Being me is, like, soooo hard; I'm way existential and shit. I don't need anyone else because in the end we're all just worm kibble.
"Edward," Emmett, my over-sexed brother complains over-sexededilly. "What are you doing in there?"
"Thinking," I reply suicidally, hot ropes of shit spewing out of my rectum.
"Well, hurry up. Some of us need to masturbate."
"Okay," I grunt. "But I have a lot more thinking to do." Those enchiladas I had for lunch are re-frying their way through my colon.
"I don't understand you."
"No one does," I lament, fartingly.
(((()))) - omg, can you tell what the line break is? Can you?
~Book One~
"Bella," I whisper in reverence at my dark, exotic, erotic, beautiful angel, her eyes pools of muddy cappuccino, her mouth a perfect, surprised O. She always looks so surprised. She shouldn't be. I've stuck my picklewinkle in every oval office of her body... if she had a hole in the back of neck I'd fuck it. I would. "The safe word is uvula."
She doesn't speak. She never does.
"So tight," I grunt. "So fucking tight and wet. Your bundle of nerves is just begging to be pinched. But I won't do it. You may not come until I tell you to." I'd trained her to orgasm on demand. It's a neat trick. Seriously, I could make her come from the other side of the room by just saying the word latex.
It's a sex thing.
"Suck me, beautiful," I whimper and moan and grunt and cry, fucking her perfect mouth with my glorious manmeat tube. She releases me, making a popping sound.
"Isabella!" I chastise in my stern yet sexy dom voice. "I will not stand for such insolence! Suck me now or I'll have to use a punitive measure... like the cheese grater."
She's hot for me - I can see it in her deep pools of melted chocolate. Seriously, I gouged them out and melted chocolate in them. I like to dip my balls in them for variety. And my little doll baby, she likes my cheese grater. Her mouth goes impossibly wider when I scrub it over my huge, steel love rod.
What can I say? She likes the skin flakes. Fuck the heartbreak of psoriasis - that shit is a turn-on.
"Yes, Master," she says - in her head, of course. I can read her mind, so she doesn't have to say a thing. It's how I no she likes it in the pooper.
I go back to ramming my giant tube of meat in her mouth, stuffing and pulsing. She takes it like I taught her to; silent and unmoving, her tiny hands clinched at her sides. Her face is a vacuous canvas, as blanks as if she's balancing her checkbook or doing the dishes - which she does wearing nothing but nipple pasties and 10 inch Manalo Blahniks.
I'm wearing light blue striped pajama pants that hang low on my hips and an emerald green, too-tight t-shirt that shows off a strip of skin below the hem. Oh, and it totally showcases my rock hard nipples. I had implants in those bad boys, so they'd always stand at attention. I always were green because the color makes my emerald green eyes stand out, and then Bella doesn't know where to look: my shamrock orbs or my nipples that are so hard they can cut diamonds. It gives me a reason to smack her up with my rattan cane.
She loves it.
She really loves it that I let her eat my vagina viper just sticking out the hole in my pajamas. "Taste it, Isabella," I command cunningly and with fever.
My cum sits just behind my peehole, and just before I explode, I pull out and shoot into a bucket I keep by her side for just this reason. I learned the hard way - the first time Isabella served her master this way, I shot a whole threw her head. My cum splattered all over the wall behind her head, and it dried there like Saint Bernard slobber. Crusted over like Elmer's glue.
Now I collect it to serve as a drizzle over her nightly bowl of ice cream.
It's the only thing I let her eat all day because she has to stay fit to keep up me because I have such a hot body. She likes the sexy vee that rises out of my low-slung pants. Even my suit pants of my million dollar suits are low-slung because I'm just that kind of a guy.
Besides, Isabella loves the taste of my man jizz. She says it tastes like a mix of ambrosia and her own cum, which enjoys licking off my fingers every chance she gets.
"Okay, now, Bella. Cum! Cum now!"
Her beautiful, white, vinyl face goes slack, and I wonder if I've accidentally shot another hole in her, but then she hums in appreciation and screams, "Oh, Edward, you sparkling stud! I'm cumming! You're the best lover I've ever had!"
"Now, now, Isabella - no talking unless I tell you to. You know what that means, don't you?"
She remains impossibly silenter, and I cut the plastic ties holding her wrists to ankles, unfold her, and carry her into my play room. My bald avenger bobs with each step, getting harder and harder. I may be thirty-five, but I don't need more than a few seconds of recovery time after banging my beloved betrothed. By the time I strap Isabella to the perpetual fucking machine, my dick is twitching and throbbing, so I flip her over and carefully, joyfully, manfully ease my disco stick into her sucking asshole.
"Do you like that? Do you, Isabella? Answer me," I demand in my gruff, throaty, sexy manwhisper.
"Yes, master," she whimpers. Even from this position, I can see her winking at me.
"Oh, my goddess," I answer her, worshipping her by rubbing gentle circles on her back, "I positively worship you, for you are a delicate flower and worthy of the best of things. I will rub lotion on your cane wounds, made from the fat of virgin Guatamelan girls! I will have a red beret embroidered with your name, and you can add it to your wardrobe, simply because you have pleased me so."
"Yes, master," she growls, growing impossibly tighter.
"Know one knows the mysteries you keep locked inside your head but me. You belong to me, Isabella. Say it. Out loud," I command as I bury myself over and over again inside her hot turd purse.
"Uh... I can't."
"Say it!" I dig my fingers into her shoulders, curling my thumb against her g-spot (it's literally the letter G. Her previous owner hot ironed it onto her shoulder.) "OUT. LOUD!"
"Please, master! I can't... I'm just a blow-up doll."
"You don't see yourself very clearly," I bemoan enigmatically.
"I don't see myself at all. I'm not a real person."
"Don't. Do. This." I will not tolerate such insolence. As punishment, I flip her on her stomach and perform the meat missle mud slide from a less forgiving angle.
"Tell me you want this," I ejaculate.
"You know I want you, Edward. Irrectumilly."
"That's not a word." I won't be able to stave off my orgasm for much longer. "I'm close! UNF, oh god, Bella. I'm going to cum all over your sphincter."
"Yessss!" she hisses. Like, literally hisses, and now I'm really fucking worried she has a slow leak.
"Ahhhhh! I'm cumming!" I cry and shoot ropes of white sperm into her vajayjay, having pulled out of her anus at the last second. It looks like silly string, and I move her so she's squatting over the bucket.
(((()))) - the line break is a puckered asshole lololol! Aren't we clever?
Bella's POV
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"Did I hurt you, my love?"
She nods her head, and I notice a tiny puncture on her lovely, inflated neck. Shit. In my excitement I'd bit a pillow. I must have gotten some of her delicate, vinyl skin between my teeth too.
"Don't worry, my sweet. I'll mend your tear, and you'll be good as new."
"Edward," her mind screams. "Please...do it quickly. I'm carrying your baby."
Everything goes dark and I'm worried I've passed out or a blanket has fallen over my head because I'm like a parakeet, and I go to sleep instantly in the dark.
"I can't see!"
"Edward! Open your eyes, you stupid fuck." Bella's mind sounds pissed off. "Don't you dare fall asleep and let me and your unborn child die."
"How can you... I mean, you can't be pregnant. You're made of latex for fuck sake!"
Her perfectly red lips open in a silent scream.
"It's okay, my beloved concubine. You can speak. Speak freely. When we are not in the throes, feel free to speak your mind."
****FLASHBACK (and a tissue warning) ****
"Oh, Eddie!" Tanya squeals through her pre-formed mouth. My penis rubs the plastic seems of her turgid vulva. In my head I sing, "The vulva is connected to the . . . bulb of vestibule . . . and that's connected to the . . . clitoris."
"Dude, you're like dry and stuff. Let me get some lube." I skip to the refrigerator and look for that bacon fat I put away, but Emmett must have drunk it. Hmmm . . . butter or tomato sauce. I grab the butter and head back to my squeaky baby-kins. I apply the butter with a sure hand to my love muscle and swipe the butter, plunging my hole hand into her whole.
"Oh, Tanya, you're so wet! Your positively dripping just like a real vagina . . . you know, if it had a yeast infection and ten other types of crotch rot," I moan through clinched teeth. "And God, you're pussy is so tight! Your drenched quim feels like a vise grip around my cock." :pause: "Oh wait, that is a vise." I uncrank the rusty metal. "Best cock ring ever."
"Oh, Eddie!" groans Tanya, clearly in the throws of her own organism. I know because I can feel the plastic walls clinching and stroking me, over and over, milking me like my dick is an udder, and Tanya is an innocent maiden farm girl milking her favorite bovine pet.
Just then, something nudges my man sprout from inside her clunching walls. In fact, it feels like a tiny finger tapping on the purple, swollen head. Curiously, I pull out and investigate, feeling happy I got my Private Investigator's license back in '33. A Barbie doll oozes out of her on a wave of our mixed juices and bacon fat. She gasps and hisses, "Daddy?" before her eyes close for one last time.
"Oh, Eddie!" Tanya gasps and then her heart - well, the metronome I set up on the mantle - stops.
"Our baby!" I cry, fumbling with the Barbie doll and cradling it in my well-muscled arms. "Renesmee!"
I fall to my knees and gently place Renesmee at my knees. I pull a tiny, lilliputian blanket over her still form, all while Tanya deflates into a used balloon. I yell, "Renesmeeeeeeeeee!, raising my giant ham fists to the sky.
- END FLASHBACK -
(oh my god, wasn't that sad?)
"Don't worry," I grit, shattering my teeth under the weight of my clench. "I won't let the fetus hurt you. We'll get it out of you."
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~Book Two~
Jacob's POV (So, Edward totally has a dog. I can't remember if I mentioned it or not. Well, he does. I think it would be kind of orangey colored... like maybe a poodle bread with a fox or something.)
Me hate man who humps doll. Doll mine. I peed on it. Peed on bed. Peeing right now. If doll brakes I kill man.
For now, I lick balls and wait.
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~Book Three~
Bella's huge with my baby, her chocolate eyes all but melted down to the quick. Her vag is kind of dry now too, and I can't get off by fucking her the normal way. I've wedged an apple core into her labia and filled it with honey.
"You're not going to touch me again, are you?" she laments silently, her core dripping with want. I dip my finger into her honeyed wetness, spredding the sweet nectar of her cooter around her pussy lips and watch, mesmerized as her thighs become coated in moisture. She tastes like orange clover and freesia.
"It's not safe for me to bang you when you're swollen with my offspring. I won't do that," I look off at a faraway spot on the wall dramatically, "again."
"What do you mean, oh sweet Adonis of mine?"
"It's nothing you need to concern your vapid little head about. Now suck my cock until my life juice squirts down your throat. I'm concerned you're not getting enough vitamin J." (lol, "j' for jizz. *snorts*).
The heat turns on sending a gust of hot air through the room, Bella's inflated head bobs in time with my engorged member, nodding and throbbing like one of those bird thingamajiggers that drink water perpetually. Uh, I think it's called a Dippy Bird. Homer had one on The Simpsons. Speaking of The Simpsons, I really fucking miss that show. I mean, before it sucked donkey balls. Now I can't get through a single episode. I dunno... maybe it's just been on for too long? Like, Family Guy is really funny, but Peter Griffin is just no Homer Simpson. And don't even get me started on South Park. That piece of shit. But American Dad isn't that bad. Wait, is that show still on teevee?
"Edward?"
"Yes, baby-mama?"
"I think my water just broke."
I have no choice. The moment I'd been preparing for all these past...minutes...was here. It's time for me to perform a babyectomy on my beloved.
I grab a roll of packing tape and then a grab an X-acto knife and then I pause to brush my raizer sharp fangs because good hygiene is important. I use Colgate cinnamon, spreading it onto the brisles of my toothbrush and rubbing it against my sharp teeth.
Isabella sags in defeat accept her giant plastic stomach like a big beautiful beach ball filled with my fantastic-tasting cum and our baby. I finish brushing my teeth and then I floss. When I turn back toward my stunningly gorgeous girlfriend with the most lushus curves I've ever seen, she's nothing but a puddle of flat vinyl and there's a midget standing in front of her covered with bloody goo.
"Hello, father," the midget says, wiping the bloody goo off her arm with an impatient hand. Her free hand fluffs her long, flowing, bronze locks. "You really can't be trusted to do a thing, can you? You're too late for Mother - I karate chopped my way through. Bet you didn't know that fake vampire-blow up doll hybrids were born knowing marshall arts, did you?"
I stood with surprise. How did a circus performer infiltrate my man cave? Did the spanking board and bureau full of butt plugs in my play room mate and produce this...this thing?
"Wise up, daddy," it said. But its lips didn't move. Zomg! She thought it? I heard its thots, and it called me daddy!
"Renesmee?" I asked with my voice full of wonder. "I thought you looked familiar. My Renesmee has come back to me, reincarnated into Isabella's belly!"
"Can it, dad," Renesmee said, twisting her long, bronze locks around a delicate finger. "Best tend to Mom. I think I saw a bicycle pump in the corner when I was roundhousing out of mom's stomach a few minutes ago.
I pranced to the corner where my bouncing baby girl was pointing, and sure enough there was the bicycle pump for my Schwinn. I never did pass my driver's test.
(A/N: OMG! I flunked my driver's test teh first 10 times to! LOLZ!)
I paused to wrap Renesmee in my arms, and a chunk of her skin came away. She pushed me away and rolled her eyes. "I'm a growing girl. I shed my skin like a snake. And my clothes. Good thing I have an aunt with a shopping addiction."
"You . . . " I paused dramatically. "have an aunt? But I'm an only child!"
"No, Daddy. Wow, you're dumber then I am. Flat Mom has family." Renessmee continued to peel off her skin, throwing chunks at the wall. They flopped down, crawling to the floor like Wacky Wall Walkers. When she finished she'd grown nine feet and now stared down at me. Not wanting to stare at my daughter's innocent and pure nakedness, I shoved the bike pump nozzle into Isabella's vagina and furiously pumped the handle of the pump. Air hissed out of her.
"Renesmeee, did you see a can of Fix-A-Flat when you were on your way out?"
"Yes, daddy - it's over there in the corner near your vat of hair gel. Here." She reached out an arm and touched the can, wrapping her fingers around it and handing it too me.
I plugged Isabella's injuries with teh Fix-A-Flat and taped up the giant gash in her stomach where Renessmee had burst forth into the beautiful world. I pumped while Isabella slowly inflated. her surprised mouth - perfectly formed into an O - puckered and stretched as I pumped.
"Live, dammit!" I yelled as I pumped.
"Yeah, Mommy - live, dammit!" Renesmee yelled.
"Language, sweetheart."
"Yes, Dad."
As I pumped and Isabella's snow white skin pinked up with life, the door flew open and in flounced...
(dun dun DUN!)
Tanya.
"Tanya!" I gasped.
"Auntie," gasped Renesmee.
"Renesmee!" Tanya gasped.
"Tanya!" Tanya gasped.
A short little pixie burst in behind Tanya, a bunch of shopping bags strapped to her back like a pack mule.
"Alice!" Tanya gasped.
"What the fuck do you want now?" the pixie growled with her short dark hair in those waves from the 1920s or 1940s or whatever.
"My beloved has returned from the dead!" I gasped, seizing Tanya's pitted vinyl arm.
"What am I?" Isabella moned, sitting up, her melted chocolate pools leaking mascara streaks down her porceline cheeks. "Oh, you don't love me. You could never love me. I have such bad self-esteem, someone should do an after school special about me."
"I know!" Tanya gummed excitedly. "We can have a polyamourous relationship! All three of us can live here and teach our family and friends a lesson about how normal we are!"
Renesmee finished dressing in a red, sequinned Jacklyn Smith Kmart collection dress with a low v-neck and cut outs in the back, accented with a red hat shaped like a maple leaf and Manalo Blahnik stiletto heels with yellowed dentures strapped to the toes.
"Thanks Alice," she said, patting the Pixie's head.
"Go fuck yourself. I hate shopping."
Just then, a team of mobsters (I could tell they were mobsters because they wore expensive charcoal suits that showed off their well-muscles chests and biceps and were calling each other "Tony" and "Little Dicky") burst through the door with their guns drawn.
"You're coming with us!" the one guys said. "Get him!"
The fat one tackled me teh ground. The pixie, Tanya, Isabella, and Renesmee clutched each and screamed. "But what will we do without big strong protector? Oh help! Help! Who will help?"
"Youse guys know too much about Cornholio," fatty says, his hand covering my mouth hole so I can't breathe."
"I don't know any corn hole," I protest, my eyes jumping wildly from my beloved to Tanya to Renesmee. My girls. My life. Our future flashes before me in a endoscope of colors - the four of us living in a compound somewhere in Utah. A place where it's legal for a man to love two blow-up dolls freely and without persecution.
I have to do something to save them!
"Little Dicky," I say to the smaller of the two.
"I'm Little Dicky," fatty growls.
"Uh . . . sorry." I look him in the eye. Just one the left one because I notice he's got a neon pink golf ball where his right eyeball should be. "Whatever you want . . . it's yours. Please, just please don't hurt my girls."
The sound of a gunshot explodes and my eardrums pop like soap bubbles blown too big.
~Epidural~
I never really thought much about how I'd die. But dying in the place of someone I love seems like a good way to go.
"Bella? Bella, wake up!"
"Huh?" I say like the vapid bitch I am.
"You're having another night terror," Charlie's mustache tells me.
"I'm not Bella. I'm Edward. Wait, how do I know who you are? I'm confused."
"It's all a dream. You're safe at home now with your family who loves you. Everything will be okay."
My lips tremble in self-pity and confusion. "I had a night mirror! I dreamed I was this sick fuck who liked a blow-up doll, only I was the blow-up doll. And I had a midget baby that was some sort of hybrid between a vampire and a balloon. And then these mafia guys killed me. Well, Edward."
Charlie takes off his mask and he turns into Edward. I'm Bella. I think... I'm not sure.
"Oh I'm a sick fuck, am I? I won't stand for such insolence! Get on your hands and knees, Isabella. The safeword is Renesmee."
My body turns to plastic and my mouth opens in a perpetual silent scream.
The dream begins again.