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The Blue Mouth-Juice (and devouring her whole)



It was a gloomy Saturday. I was in a short olive-colored skirt, fishnet stockings and a tube top that revealed just enough of the hair on my abdomen to be sensual, but not enough to be gross. It was the end of my set and I'd just done my final pelvic thrust to mark the last note of Blitzkrieg Bop. Oh how the soldiers hollered and fought to get closer to the stage as the last remnants of the song died away. There were hundreds of them. They were thousands of miles from home, their spirits crushed by loneliness and the atrocities of war, but any of them, at that moment, I knew, would've gladly given up a chance to return to their families just for the opportunity to suck the extra toe on my left foot.



With a sultry smile, and a wave of my hand, I spun around and headed toward the back of the stage. It was at that point that I saw the girl. She was standing behind an amplifier, bent slightly forward, studying it as if it were some unfathomable alien device. Her lips were pursed, glistening from what I would later discover to be strawberry flavored lip gloss. Her cherry red hair fell in lustrous tumbles over her shoulders and back. A dress, whiter than anything I'd ever seen, clung tightly to her form, accentuating every supple curve. In her hand she held a peach, half-eaten, and as she casually lifted it to her mouth and bit down, I knew I had to have her.



Quickly I raced to my dressing room, changed into a man, and returned to the stage. Already most of the soldiers had dispersed, leaving no more than a dozen lingering here and there waiting under the darkening sky, futilely hoping to catch a final glimpse of the woman who'd just performed. Wiping the last bit of lipstick from my mouth, I strode up to the girl who was now sitting at the front of the stage with her legs hanging over. Her peach was gone but for the pit which she haphazardly tossed over her shoulder before proceeding to suck the remaining nectar from her fingers.



I leaned in close, my lips almost touching her hair. "I see you," I said. "I see you and I want to eat you."



I took a step back and waited for her reaction. At first it seemed as though she hadn't heard me; she just continued licking the juice from her fingers. It wasn't until I bent forward again and opened my mouth to repeat myself that she turned her head to look at me and spoke.



"Well go ahead."



Her answer struck me as odd for reasons that I can't now remember, and I felt my confidence slipping. Quickly, I blurted, "You don't mind?" Immediately I knew it was a stupid thing to say and I instantly regretted it.



The girl picked up on my insecurity and began giggling for what seemed an eternity until eventually her laughter subsided and she looked up at me with an ironic smile. "I'm Food," she said slowly, "why would I mind?"



I blushed. I had no idea how to answer her question, but she quickly saved me from my embarrassment by giving me her hand and asking me to help her up. Thunder exploded in the sky as I pulled her to her feet. Her body was light, almost like nothing at all, and instantly she took to smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. When she finished, she turned toward the side of the stage and motioned for me to follow her.



"You know you're an excellent dancer?" She asked as she led me down the steps along the side of the stage to the muddy ground below.



The comment startled me. "How..how did you know it was me? I was a woman then."



She made no response. I craned my neck slightly to look at her face, hoping her expression might clue me in to what she was thinking, but her eyes just stared intently ahead. Thunder boomed again, this time followed by a sudden downpour of rain. I started to quicken my pace, but the girl maintained hers, and soon I had to stop just so she could catch up. When she did, I asked her where it was that we were going.



"The north side of the base," she said with a quick gesture in that direction. "I have a tent."



It struck me as bizarre that someone on this base would have a tent, and I wanted to ask her why she wasn't sleeping in the barracks like the rest of us, but I had a feeling she wouldn't tell me if I did.



For the next fifteen minutes, we trudged through the sheets of falling rain. The girl's dress became so thoroughly soaked that it was nearly transparent and more than few of the sopping wet soldiers we passed turned to look at her. Her hair, though, was what I couldn't take my eyes from. It was plastered to her face and neck in long wet tangles, and by the time we reached the perimeter of the camp, streams of pink juice were trickling down from it, over the pale skin of her chest, and disappearing between her breasts.



"It's lemonade," she told me matter-of-factly as she caught me staring at it, and though I wanted to ask her if I could taste it, I couldn't find a way to phrase the inquiry that didn't sound awkward. Instead I just followed her silently, past the last of the giant brick barracks of the fort, and up to a small pup tent that had been erected between two trees.



"Here," she said, stooping forward at the opening of the tent. "Come in and eat me."



Without hesitating, I tackled her and pinned her face-down to the ground. My legs on either side of her waist, I dove forward and began to ingest her hair. It was sweet and stringy like the inside of an orange.



Something about the situation suddenly began to feel strange. "How can you be food?" I demanded as I swallowed a second mouthful, revealing a patch of scalp the color of chocolate. "I don't understand."



"I'm a personification." she said calmly, "An archetype."



I sucked her hand into my mouth, devouring it without even chewing. "That makes no sense," I said. "Archetypes represent ideas. Food's not an idea."



"It is. But it doesn't matter. Eat me." She squirmed free of me and rolled onto her back. "Eat my lips."



I nodded and tore them from her face. As I did, a blue fluid began to ooze out, spilling down over her chest, stomach and legs. I crouched down and began to lick it from her, my tongue working up her inner thigh and over her abdomen, lapping up not only the liquid, but the flesh beneath. She screamed and shrieked as I came to her breasts, but when I stopped to ask if she was alright, she began to thrash wildly from side to side.



"No!" She cried, more blue juice pouring from what was left of her mouth. "Eat me! Eat me, and you'll never be hungry again."



I stared long and hard into her eyes, then sucked them out of their sockets. Outside, the rain and thunder had stopped, but new sounds filled the night - the explosions of mortars and the stuttering of machine gun fire. The noises made me feel strange, as though I were waking from a dream. I blinked my eyes a few times and slapped myself on the cheek, but still something about my having just eaten the girl, and the fact that nothing remained of her but a lone fingernail, seemed somehow wrong.



Unsure what to do, I plucked the nail from the ground, popped it into my mouth and headed to my dressing room to change back into a woman for tomorrow's show.