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Subject: {ASSM} Good For Something (mc, nc, magic, Fm, fd)
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Date: Sat, 21 Jul 2001 15:10:03 -0400
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Good For Something (mc, nc, magic, Fm, fd)

   Copyright (C) 2001 by Chew Toy (wellgnawed@hotmail.com)

   WARNING: The usual disclaimers and warnings apply.  The characters in
this story have sex; if that offends you or for some reason you are Not
Allowed to read about such things, stop now.  The events in this story
might not be moral or even possible; the point is to give you a hot
fantasy, not a blueprint for life.

  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
----

   "Zombies sure are dull, Aunt Ruby."

   "Well, they're not deep thinkers, that's for sure!  Hah!  How did your
date do, honey?"

   Sarah sighed and looked around her aunt's small trailer home.  A
peculiar mix of Middle America kitsch and Carribean voodoo paraphernalia
filled every conceivable nook and cranny.  On the wall next to her aunt's
head as she sat in her favorite recliner was a framed needlepoint banner
proclaiming, "We'll get along fine as long as you realize that I'm right!"
The word "fine" was obscured by a dried chicken foot hanging from a corner
of the frame.

   Aunt Ruby herself, a weathered-looking black woman with dancing eyes,
her long white hair swept up in a bun, sat knitting something that was
destined to be either a pair of booties or a voodoo doll.  Not knowing
anyone nearby with a newborn or pregnant-- though Aunt Ruby had ways of
finding out these things that other people did not-- Sarah was a little
afraid to ask.

   She sighed again.  "It was OK, I guess.  I gave him the potion, like you
said, and after a while he got really quiet, and then he did whatever I
told him to after that.  It was just like you said, but it was...  I don't
know.  Not very exciting, after a while.  I'd tell him to hold the door for
me and he would and I'd tell him to follow me and he would and I'd tell him
to kiss my feet and he would and I'd tell him to apologize for all the mean
things he said to me and he'd say 'I'm sorry for all the mean things I said
to you' but it was like there was nobody home, it wasn't a real apology, it
was just words."

   "Well, there *was* nobody home, child, he was a zombie."

   "But I wanted him to apologize!  I wanted him to be sorry for what he
said.  But he wouldn't...  I mean, he would *do* anything I said, but it
wasn't him, it wasn't real.

   And then in school today he was real spacey...  he hardly looked at me,
I don't think he remembered last night at all."

   "He shouldn't remember it, but it sounds like he'll recover soon enough.
And just as well, if you're bored with him already!"

   "Well, I'm still mad at him for the things he said.  But what's the
point of making him a zombie, if he won't remember it?  I can't make him
sorry like that!"

   "Well, now...  there's ways and ways of making a man sorry.  But a
zombie's only good for a couple of things, it's true.  But sometimes those
can be plenty enough!  Hah!"

   "He didn't seem to be much good for *anything* to me.  Except drooling.
And he does enough of that when he's *not* a zombie."

   "Oh, now, didn't you say this was a fine strapping young man?  Captain
of the football team?  Strong shoulders, broad chest, legs like tree
trunks, bottom chiseled from stone...  I could find a use for a boy like
that, honey!"

   "Aunt Ruby!" Sarah chided, blushing and turning away.

   "Shoot, girl, I thought that was what you wanted the potion for.  Hah! I
knew your mama wouldn't approve, but I figured you were old enough to know
your own mind.  Besides, I knew you couldn't get into too much trouble,
since zombies never get *too* excited about anything.  Ha, hah!  Thought
that was what you'd be coming to see me about next, I even set up a potion
for it." The older woman gestured to a sealed mason jar on an end table
next to her.  The jar was filled with a murky brown liquid.

   Despite herself, Sarah was curious.  "What does it do?"

   "It makes a man excited, girl!  There's enough in here to make even a
zombie stand to attention." She gestured lewdly with a knitting needle in
her lap.

   Sarah blushed.  "Oh." But she still couldn't take her eyes off the jar.

   "But, you know, you're right, being with a zombie's not much different
from spending the night with your own hand.  Except he's probably
handsomer."

   "Aunt *Ruby*!"

   "What?  I'm just saying you're smart about that.  It's no substitute for
a boy who likes you.  Still, if you're really mad at the boy, it could be
fun."

   "But he wouldn't...  he wouldn't remember..." said Sarah slowly.

   "Not a blessed thing," said Aunt Ruby, winking.

   Sarah stared at the jar some more.

   ----------

   "Hey, Steve," Sarah called to the football team captain as he walked
home after practice.  Dusk was falling and she stood in the glow of a
streetlamp that had just come on, her short body stretched out against the
lamppole as if to borrow its slender height for her own.

   "What?" he jumped, looking around.  "Oh, it's you, T-- Sarah.  What do
you want?"

   He usually called her "Trailer-trash." Or "Slut." Maybe he had learned
something.  He was eyeing her with more vague wariness than disdain.

   "About our date," Sarah began, then paused.

   "Our *what*?" he stared at her.

   "You remember-- you and me, behind the mall?" That was where she'd
gotten him to drink the potion, telling him it was a beer.  She didn't
expect he'd remember taking her out to dinner, since that wasn't part of
his original plan for the evening, she was sure.  Unless someone had seen
them together and asked him about it.

   "Oh, heh, right." He tried to leer, but it came out halfhearted, as if
he couldn't quite remember how.  "Tonight, right?  At um..."

   He didn't remember meeting her at all?  Stupid jock.  But this would
work out for her.  "Eight o'clock," she supplied.  "I'll be waiting."

   Sarah turned her back on him and walked away, trying to move slowly and
mysteriously, and not scamper.  Gotta get home and sneak Uncle John's
beerbottling kit out of storage again, and bottle some more of the zombie
potion, and that new potion from Aunt Ruby too, and sneak into Mom's
bedroom for some other supplies...

   Her mother had another late shift, and wouldn't be home 'till after
midnight.  Maybe she could bring Steve home...

   ---------

   At 8:00, he arrived, and she was waiting.

   "Hey," she said, leaning against the wall, watching him walk up to her.

   "Hey," he said, sidling up slowly, looking her up and down and obviously
trying to summon enough disdain to hide his nervousness.

   Before she'd dressed sexy because it was what he'd expect, and she
wanted to keep him from getting suspicious until he'd drunk his "beer."
She'd hooked him with some line about finding out if she was really the
slut he always said, and he fell for it immediately-- the asshole had a
girlfriend, but he didn't even think twice about cheating on her for an
easy lay.  Anyway Sarah figured as long as he was thinking he was about to
get some, he wouldn't be paying too much attention to what was in the
bottle.

   Tonight, she'd dressed even sexier because he *was* going to get some,
and the thought made her giggle as she pawed through her mother's wardrobe
for clothes to borrow.  If he wasn't gonna be able to remember it, she'd
make sure that was as much of a loss as possible.

   So the legs his eyes were slowly travelling up were lovingly accented by
a pair of garterless white lace stockings, and supported by Sarah's best
pair of short, black, high-heeled shoes.  She leaned casually against the
wall with one knee up, showing off a flash of bare thigh where the
stockings ended just below the hem of a tight denim mini-skirt that almost
failed to cover what was underneath.  Above, Sarah wore a thin red
spaghetti-strap top that bared her belly and her back and made it obvious
what her nipples poking up through the soft cloth had already announced,
she wasn't wearing a bra.

   Sarah let him stare for a moment, then knelt to the battered bookbag at
her feet and pulled out the first bottle she'd prepared for him.  Levering
off the cap, she placed it in his hand, then grabbed her own bottle as she
stood, holding his attention with her eyes.  "Have a beer."

   "Uh, thanks."

   Smiling, mentally urging him to drink up, Sarah fumbled a bit with the
cap on her own bottle while she kept her eyes on Steve.

   He seemed at a loss.  'Go on." She took a swig from her bottle as soon
as the cap came off.  Steve followed suit.  Perfect.

   She took another sip, while Steve downed several healthy swallows as a
welcome alternative to talking.  Last time he'd gone through the bottle
pretty quickly.  "I'll bet you chug whole kegs at your football parties,
huh?"

   He smiled, a little less nervously.  "We polished off two kegs at the
last party.  People get pretty thirsty, dancing.  And making out."

   Now he was staring again.  She raised her bottle to her lips and he
followed suit, downing another big swig.  Almost done.

   "Well, we've got enough for a little party here, just between us," Sarah
said, nodding to the backpack.  She licked a drop from the mouth of her
bottle, starting to really enjoy teasing him.  "Let's see..."

   She knelt down next to the backpack again, as if to look inside and
count the beer.  She made sure to bend forward chest-first, feeling the
tiny shirt slide down a bit on her nipples.

   Steve was silent.  Sarah turned her head sideways and peered up at him
through her bangs.  He was staring openmouthed at the exposed top of her
chest.  "Drink up, stud," she reminded him, smiling.

   He hastily brought the bottle to his lips again and noisily drained it
dry.

   "That's better.  See, there's more where that came from." She opened the
bag to show the remaining bottles.  "Oh, shit."

   "What's wrong uh?" asked Steve.  Already his speech was sounding
slurred.

   "Nothing.  Here, you finish mine," Sarah answered, quickly pressing her
bottle into his hand.  "I'll get another." She reached into the bag, and
pulled out the only real beer she'd packed.  The real beer she *hadn't*
just been drinking.

   *How much did I just drink?  How much would it take to affect me?  Will
it even do anything to me?  It's not like I can get hard.* Sarah's mind
raced.

   Steve was quickly recovering the glassy stare she remembered from their
previous date.  So he'd definitely just drunk the zombie potion.  Which
meant the one he was finishing now-- and the remaining bottle in her bag,
there was that much of it-- was the potion meant to...  make his cock stick
up straight and hard for her.  Staring at the muscles rippling in Steve's
arm under the t-shirt as he raised his bottle, Sarah thought about what
that would look like, feel like, growing between his legs...

   She licked her lips.  Maybe they'd better get home quickly.

   "Chug that one, Steve," she said, her voice catching oddly on the words.
He obediently lifted the bottle high.

   ----------

   She zipped up her bag and pitched the empties into a dumpster.  "Walk me
home." He could finish off the last bottle once they got there.  Steve
obediently followed after her.

   Her heel caught on a crack in the asphalt, and she stumbled.  "Dammit.
Here, take my arm, you're my date-- help me out." He reached to grab her
arm.  "No, hold your elbow out, offer it to me, like *this*." She showed
him, and he complied.  "Now walk me home."

   Sarah slipped her arm through his and leaned on him for support. 
Through his very muscular arm.  She ran her other hand along the length of
his forearm, feeling the hairs tickle her fingers, feeling the hard bulge
of muscle underneath.  Was that what his cock would feel like?  Warm and
yielding, but firm underneath, long and thick and hard from working out...

   No, he probably didn't work out his cock.  Sarah stifled a giggle.

   "Left here," she directed him, and he turned.  Good boy.

   What if he *did* work out his cock?  Sarah snuggled in closer against
his arm, breathing in the warm, slightly sweaty scent of his body and
building the scene in her mind.  He could do...  cock lifts!  She giggled
again, imagining Steve grunting, hefting a weight tied on the end of his
stiff rod, lifting it over and over with powerful thrusts of his hips, brow
furrowed in concentration, sweat glistening off his naked thighs...

   Hm, maybe she'd make him do that.  She rubbed her cheek against the
naked part of his upper arm.  Wow, that felt good.  She wondered how well
zombies kiss...

   "Steve.  Steve, kiss me." He stopped and turned to her, and she nearly
climbed his body to get to his lips.  His mouth was big and clumsy and wet,
and she revelled in it.  She licked the tops of his teeth, sucked on his
upper lip, whispered "Pick me up," and *that* was *much* better, now she
could wrap her legs around his torso and lick ("Keep kissing me"), his
kisses were awkward and passionless but just the feel of his lips against
her face, his flesh under her tongue, his body squeezed between her thighs,
was enough to make up...

   Screw going home.  "Take me over there, into the woods," she pointed,
directing him to an unused stand of trees by the roadside.  It went back
pretty far, a patch of land between housing developments, nobody would come
by and they could lie down...

   Leaning in close to his body as Steve negotiated the brambles, she felt
her nipples brushing against his chest through their two shirts.  She
bounced up and down against him a bit, to keep the sensation going.

   Steve's head bounced off a low branch with a clunk, and he kept walking.
*I like 'em big and stupid!* Sarah thought.  *I like 'em big and..  real
dumb!*

   The woods opened out a bit.  Better.  And there was a big log.  "Stop,"
she told him, her lips brushing against his ear, "Sit down on that log."

   Clumsy wasn't always a good thing-- at least while he was still carrying
her-- "Ow!  No, don't bang my legs on-- OW!" but with a bit of twisting she
got situated in his lap with him seated on the fallen treetrunk.  All hers.

   "Here, take this off," she ordered him, tugging his shirt out of his
waistband impatiently.  "Better.  Oh...  *much* better.  Now take mine
off."

   He did have a nice chest.  Flat where she was curvy, but broad and
strong...  muscly, like his arms.  She smelled sweat and hair and dirt and
leaves.  And smooth...  but with a patch of little hairs in the middle,
tiny thick curly hairs, like the ones between her legs, but smaller.  They
tickled against her palms as she touched him, felt him, prodded and
grabbed. Licked.  He tasted salty.  Bit.  Ha, she could leave him covered
in bites, and he wouldn't even know how he'd gotten them.  She could leave
a hickey on his cock!

   His cock...

   He wasn't very good with knots.  "Here, *I*'ll take my shirt off, then,
you just watch." She reached around behind her back and untied the bow,
started to slip the shirt off.

   He was staring at her, blank, glassy-eyed.  It was kinda creepy.  "Don't
look at me like that!" He looked away.

   "Um, pose for me, show me your muscles or something." He stared at her.
"You know, show off your biceps."

   He obligingly flexed his arm.

   "That's better.  Now I say, 'Ooh, baby, what big muscles you have.  I
love a guy with big muscles, it gets me all...  excited.  I just wanna
*throw* my clothes off!'"

   The shirt landed somewhere.  She leaned forward and pressed her
now-freed breasts against his naked chest, which felt *so* good, wow.  Her
chest slid against his, slick with sweat, his hairs rough against her
nipples, just the idea of his flesh on hers seeming incredible.  She licked
his neck, bit his ear, wanted to crawl inside him.  She felt some part of
his belt hard between her legs, and wanted *him* there, *now*.  "Oh, get
these pants off.  Wait, I'd better do it-- no, don't stand *up*!"

   He paused in half-crouch, but she still tumbled off his lap, hands still
clinging desperately to his fly.  It unzipped the rest of the way under the
pressure, and she could feel the lump underneath, through the soft cotton
of his underwear.  She pulled herself up, quickly unbuckled his belt, and
slid his jeans down a bit.

   There.  A big lump beneath the fabric of his boxers.  She slid a hand
under the waistband to feel it.

   Squishy things.  Sexy squishy things.  Sexy, (squeeze) *hairy* squishy
things.  She wasn't quite sure what she was feeling, but there was
certainly no "rockhard throbbing manhood" in there.  Well-- she squeezed
again-- maybe it throbbed.  Hard to tell.  But if this was a "woody" it was
a real disappointment.

   She wondered what it would be like to give him a blowjob.  To put... 
whatever that was down there against her lips, maybe feel it stiffen and
grow inside her mouth...  but it wouldn't, of course, he was a zombie and
couldn't get excited without help.

   Time for the other potion.  She pulled her hand out, crawled over to her
discarded backpack and ripped it open, retrieving the last full bottle. 
She tossed it to him.  It hit his belly and fell to the ground, while he
stared dumbly at her.  Damn.

   "Pick it up, stupid!"

   He bent to do so.

   "Open it up and drink it, chug it all.  Hurry!" She crawled back to his
feet while he chugged, and pulled his underwear and jeans halfway down his
thighs, exposing all of his equipment and a tight, firm ass.

   She stared at the squishy things.  He smelled even more strongly of
sweat now; it made her feel earthy, excited and sinful.  His penis
twitched. What a weird thing it was.  Like a big, fat worm.  But for her,
it was all for her, it was stiffening now to get ready for her.  "Ribbed,
for her pleasure?" she giggled.  She didn't see any ribs.  But she wrapped
her hand around it.

   So soft.  Starting to firm up in her hand, but the skin was so soft, so
strange.  She touched the head of it to her cheek, rubbed it gently against
her face.  It was weirdly exciting, intimate.  This was a part of a boy you
never saw, and here was his, just for her.  She brushed her lips against
the side of it, licked it.  Salty.  She licked it again.  Like sweat.  She
put her whole mouth over it, closing her lips a ways down the shaft and
gently reaching up with her tongue, inside her mouth, to touch it.  It was
still growing, stiffening, getting hard and ready to be...

   Oh God.  Inside her.  Now.  Oh, yes.

   She slid her mouth off his cock, slurping it a bit like a lollypop-- it
seemed like the thing to do-- and started tugging on her mini-skirt, trying
to slide it up around her hips.  "Lie down!" she ordered him.

   He lay down in the underbrush.  Good enough.  His cock was pointing up
along his belly now.  Why didn't it stick straight up?  She'd always
imagined it would.  She clambered onto his chest, slipped-- Oh GOD!  that
lump was his cock against her pussy, right *there*, that's where she wanted
it, she lifted herself up a bit to reach around and fumble with his bits.
There, she grabbed it, it was plenty stiff and hard now, *much* better,
slippery from her spit and her pussy.  *There*.  She lowered herself,
slowly taking his shaft inside her.  Wow, weird, but...  inside her, *yes*!
She stopped.  It was stuck.  She pushed harder...  ow.  OW!

   Tears welled up in her eyes.  She wanted this *so* badly and didn't know
how to make it work.  She bounced at little.  That felt pretty good...  but
OW!  So strange, and...

   Ow?  Oh, fuck it, he was all the way inside her now and she was
bouncing, riding, *fucking* him as he lay there.

   "Fuck it.  Fuck *you*.  Ooh, I'm fucking you, you jerk and you don't
even know I am *so*-- ohhhh...  *so*...  ohhhhhh...  *HOT*!  Ahh!"

   She clenched.  Every muscle.  Threw back her head and-- "AHH!"-- but no
more sound came out, she was too busy coming to yell.

   ---------

   Coming down, relaxing, took a few minutes.  She stayed on top of him and
enjoyed the feeling of his hard cock still filling her.  Aunt Ruby had told
her zombies couldn't get her pregnant-- something in the potion killed the
sperm- and damned if she was going to let him come anyway, but it was just
as well, she might not have stopped to care.  Wow.

   So that's what zombies were good for.

   _________________________________________________________________ Get
your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp 

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