writing about my life

Story: The Blobs

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Alpha blob was a fairly ordinary blob, he had grown up with a regular blob family somewhere east of the great river, after school he had become a plumber and fixed hundreds of blob lubrication systems for many blobs in his local area.

Beta blob too was a normal blob. She used the correct lubrication system for her female parts, coated them with slime and looked after her pheromone pores with a care appropriate for a good honest female blob.

Of course being blobs both these individuals had had attached the requisite level of spines around their soft body cores. Blobs needed spines because there still remained many predators in Blobland and the spines were evolution’s way of protecting jelly-soft blob flesh from the (at times) severely demanding conditions that external life could offer blobs and their lesser relatives. Yes blobs had been hunted by Klakkers for much of their evolutionary history, and it was only relatively recently that the meek blobs had streaked past the klakkers in evolutionary dominance due to the blobs invention of the spines, which succesfully protected the slimy soft Blob core from the harsh predation potential of the Klakkers.

And so it was that young blobs in courtship would frequently find their spines to be an encumbrance which they secretly dreamed would be deemed unnecessary. But the spines were here to stay, being such a crucial defensive measure against the evil and un-blobly Klakkers. So often one would see a young teenage blob protesting against the attachment of ever more spines, and in turn witness its parents ire at the protests of one too young to fully understand the dangers of being a soft unprotected blob at large in the wicked world.

Thus no blob deity would have been surprised when, having met each other and become romantically inclined, Alpha blob and Beta blob started to encounter difficulties in getting as close to each other as they would have liked, given the hard and sharp spines that they found in their way.

Often they would see each other from a distance, ooze quickly towards each other and then nearly collapse in frustration as the spines prevented the ecstatic meeting of their blob lips, in a kiss worthy of the greatest romantic blob poets. “god damn these protective spines” Alpha blob would cry to the heavens, as if tormented by some dictum of the blob gods that went against his best blob nature.

But nonetheless their courtship was passionate and filled with oozing slimy blob longings, which frequently drove Alpha to cry aloud to the heavens in the evenings, and Beta to slime copius trails of scented pearlescent goo across the sleeping pool in her boudoir.

On one occasion the two lovers were unsually overcome with ardour, and, borne on the dangerous winds of madness they made a spontaneous decision to somehow shirk off the spine coats which cultural taboo, based firmly in survival, had dictated must NEVER be removed. The spines fell away and the tender flesh of the blobs met in squishy and orgasmic union. They melded, squirmed, gyrated and squashed against each other for hours. They coated each other in their mutual slimes, the pheromone pores pumped out their magic odours, the fluids and mucus mingled, and eventually two utterly content blobs fell away from each other in the exhaustion borne from their rapture.

This was a dangerous step. The blob elders had been contradicted, all hell might break loose if the newest rebellious generation of blobs saw fit to reject the use of spines en masse. “Do we not have protective measures in place to keep the Klakkers at bay already?” said young blob-spokespeople. There was talk on street corners about the new rage. Gangs of young lovers would parade their nakedness, even flaunting their unspined bodies in front of the blob parliament.

And secretly deep in their layers, Klakkers plotted to capitalise on this new madness. Once and for all the blob race might be enslaved, and suborned into a farmed slave population that would be both food supply and sport for the predatory and sharp fanged Klakkers.

(to be continued)


Written by Luke Dunn

August 15, 2012 at 7:45 pm

Posted in Prose

Tagged with , , , , ,

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