* * * * *

Wolf

* * * * *

There was a boy, you see, who once admired greatly a man.

The man had no idea, so he never did anything.

So the boy wrote the man fan mail. In it, the boy said things, such as how much he admired the man's acting skills, and how much he admired the man as a man. The boy had said that when he grew up, or at least got older, he would very much like to keep company with the man. The boy had said that he thinks he loves the man and would like to hold him through the night.

Then the boy did get older. And he forgot about the fan mail. And he became, quite quickly, a very good actor himself.

The young man settled down and stopped dreaming about the man. He bought a car and an apartment and later he found a girlfriend. The young man starred in features and then blockbusters. He got his own fan club and everyday girls and boys wrote him fan mail.

Then, on Christmas day, when the young man was 24 years old, there came a knock on his door. An impolite knocking thumping which rattled the door in its frames. From the other side of the door, the young man heard the sound of scratching and barking and howling and panting and whining.

The young man's mother went to answer. She was a kind woman and felt sorry for the poor animal that was trying to get in. So she was eaten first.

The young man's girlfriend went to see what was going on. She was a clever girl and had taken her mobile so she could call the police if the need arose. So she was eaten second.

The young man went to get the door, and found it gaping, and Viggo had already got in.

"Hi Viggo, its been a long time!" Elijah exclaimed, excitedly. "What's up?"

Viggo lumbered in and pranced all over the furniture, his jaws dripping with blood and his heckles raised.

"I hope I'm not intruding," said Viggo, shredding the sofa with his claws. "I've come to see you."

"That's nice," Elijah blushed. "How long's it been? Oh gosh, four years since we worked together. What have you been doing?"

"Waiting," said Viggo, his great thick tail thumping the cushions in agitation.

"Okay," said Elijah, fascinated. "What for?"

"To remind you of this," Viggo produced a sheaf of paper in his paw.

Elijah read the fan mail and frowned.

"But I didn't write this," said Elijah. "I'm not the same drunken person who Dom dared to write it. I've settled down, I've bought my own car, my own apartment and I have my own girlfriend. I'm afraid, Viggo, that I can't love you and hold you through the night."

"Had," said Viggo. "I ate her, and your mother as well."

"Damn!" said Elijah, throwing up his hands, fearing for his life. "What will you do with me? Are you going to ravish my flesh? Are you going to swallow me down? Will you?"

The wolf shook his head.

"I had grown ravenous with the wait. I had felt my sinews become more sinewy and my bones harden. My hunger turned me into an animal and I admit that I have longed to taste you," Viggo yawned. "But I'm afraid I glutted myself at your door, so I will have to sleep it off."

The old wolf put his maw down on his paws and dozed off.

Elijah called the police. They told him that his girlfriend had already called and that they would be there soon.

Elijah went back to the living room and sat by Viggo.

Elijah thought he ought to feel upset about Viggo eating all his favourite next of kin. Elijah suddenly had nothing. Well, he still had his own car and apartment and film career. But the point was, Elijah had nothing left that was warm and soft and smothering.

Suddenly, Elijah could hear the wind from the highways. Elijah could smell the rain pouring through the drains. And Elijah felt cold and desolate and free.

Elijah stretched his front legs and yipped. Elijah buried his face in Viggo's fur coat. Elijah nipped Viggo's jugular until the wolf came awake.

Two wolves left via the backdoor. They could be seen walking shoulder to shoulder down the road, growling low in their throats as they spoke to each other, sniffing deeply at each other's tails. Now and then, they laughed.

When the police got there, they could find no trace of Viggo or Elijah, there was a note on the sofa which upon examination was a piece of fan mail. And so the police told everyone, whatever you do, do not write fan mail, because see what happens when you do.

* * * * *

Hunger

* * * * *

I was hungry when I saw Elijah.

"How about a bite?" I said.

"Of you?" he said, smiling with his mouth.

"Maybe," I joked. "Get in the car."

"Is this a date?" Elijah said. "Am I on a date?"

"Do you want seafood or vegetarian?" I asked.

"I want meat!" Elijah said. "I'm starved."

We went to an Indian diner and ordered.

Elijah had Butter Chicken and Beef Vindaloo and Lamb Kebabs from the Lebanese take out next door.

"I'm hitting you for all you are worth!" said Elijah. "I'm going to suck you dry! That's going to teach you about asking me out for a date."

I had Bombay Potatos. And it was spicy and golden and tangy, Elijah's face looked saucy and golden too, the Bombay Potatos tasted just like Elijah's face.

"Hey I had a really good time," Elijah said when I dropped him off.

"That's good," I said. "I think I don't have any New Zealand dollars left,"

"I mean it was really nice of you to ask me," Elijah smiled with his teeth.

"What are friends for," I said. "Night."

"Hey do you want to come in?" Elijah asked. "Do you want to have sex now?"

"What the fuck for?" I asked. "I'm sorry, it was just a bit of a shock. Do you have any chamomile tea?"

"Oh sure, that's like licorice roots yeah?" Elijah pulled me inside. "I've got some right here."

He put my hand down his pants.

"That's not it," I said.

"Keep talking, you're making me harder," Elijah said.

"I think my ring's caught in your zipper," I said.

"Lets go to the bedroom, I have a waterbed," Elijah said. "Its like making love in the ocean, its like rocking in a Gondola in Venice."

"I get sea sick," I said. "And Venice is polluted, I've been there."

"I can have you right here," said Elijah. "On the carpet, between the couch and the entertainment centre, with you flipped backwards around the coffee table. I think you'd look hot."

"I'm not feeling very well," said I. "My stomach is churning."

The truth was, I'd been unaccountably losing weight. 'I was eating as much as I used to, if not more. 'I was well hydrated, 'I'd been drinking 3 litres of water a day. I'd gone to the doctors and they'd confirmed I was fine. But my penis was not looking so hot.

Matter of fact, my torso was now lean. My ribcage looked beautiful under my skin. But 'I'd noticed that pubic hair' had been falling out. There' was a bald spot on my left scrotum.

My buttocks were not what they once were, they were thin and empty where globes of fat and muscle are meant to be. I look at Elijah's arse and they look pert and bouncy and as if I were to headbutt them, my forehead would bounce off.

"I'm so full," said Elijah. "I can just roll around on the floor."

I hope things don't progress to the stage that Elijah would see my penis.

"Will you hold me, Viggo, by my love handles?" said Elijah. "It's true, I have a pot belly! You don't see it in my photos because I suck it in and also that makes me look taller. Kiss me, Viggo, kiss me."

Elijah put his soft mouth, with lips fat and moist, on my long neck. And Elijah wrapped his thighs, which had a thin layer of incredibly soft fat on the inner sides, around my skinny hips.

Then I drank him in, him with his sexy hisses and bubbling words, his sex sounds which sounded as lovely as the sizzling of bacon on Sunday morning. And Elijah's tongue melted over my mouth, like butter, which slipped and dripped down my chin. Elijah had skin like cream and eyes like blueberries and hair like chocolate and fingers like candy canes.

I fed on him. I couldn't help it. He'd invited me to. 'His invitation had been open for months now. 'Elijah'd been throwing me hot looks and juicy lines. 'Elijah'd been looking delicious. 'Elijah'd been spending time with me. 'Elijah'd been going out of his way to be left alone with me.

I could not be left alone with Elijah. What had I gotten myself into? I was a half-starved wolf, full of avarice and want, bent on devouring him. Elijah's youth and beauty tempted me. Elijah was made of fragrant gingerbread.

I kissed him, carefully, scared his gingerbread dough head would fall off. I licked his mouth for the icing sugar. I clutched Elijah and thought that sugar had never tasted this sweet.

"My cock," I said, laboriously. "You must excuse it. It's not in very good shape right now."

"You're perfect," said Elijah.

"It's long and thin, like a limp noodle," said I.

"You're so manly," said Elijah. "You're a feast."

"I'm afraid not," I explained. "You see my cock has been starving. All you're going to see is a lot of wrinkling skin hanging off my pubic bone."

Elijah laughed when I opened my pants.

"It's magnificent," he said.

I looked down and to my great puzzlement I saw that my penis was engorged. It was a crude sausage shape and slippery as an eel to the touch.

Then it occurred to me that this was because, in the last half hour, I'd eaten. I'd been gorging myself on Elijah.

"Do you know, you're like royal jelly," I said to Elijah, as we drank peppermint tea afterwards. Peppermint is good for digestion.

"A worker bee, who has no sexuality, that feeds on royal jelly, becomes a queen," I said, pleased.

"Hail Viggo, the Queen!" said Elijah, sloshing his tea out of its cup, onto his bare stomach.

"It's very poetic," I said. "It's mysterious and quite frightening."

"Are you saying," said Elijah. "That you are drawn to me like honey to bee?"

"Its just something I remembered now," I said.

"You would die without the nourishment of my love," said Elijah. "You would starve if you could not get your hands on my body."

"That's taking it too far," I was annoyed. "I mean that's crazy. Stop smoking cloves."

"I'm onto you Viggo," Elijah winked. "And I'm so into you. So if you're into me too, how about tomorrow night, lets do this again."

"I'm not dependent on you as a food source," I insisted.

"I'll fuck you tomorrow Viggo," Elijah grinned. "Feed my cock to you. Let you milk me till I'm parched."

I thought about it.

"All right," I said. "If I'm hungry."

* * * * *

Dog

* * * * *

"I want to be your dog," said Elijah.

"Excuse me?" said Viggo.

"I want to be your best friend," said Elijah. "And be taken on walks."

"At Christmas, you should give me presents, a bowl with my name on it, or a special bone," said Elijah.

"I want to sit in your lap and have you pet me," said Elijah. "I'd like you to feed me regularly and talk to me about your troubles. If I stuff up, I would appreciate it if you clean my shit up. I want to be loved by you."

"Elijah, how about being my lover then?" asked Viggo. "Because I think, really, that's what you have in mind."

Elijah frowned thoughtfully.

"Do I still get to have a leash?"

The End.

Slashababy 2004 Stories