Lulu the Surgeon-Bound Recorder

Toot-a-loot-a-loot-la-toot-toot-toot!

It was one of the many variations of tooting and looting emitting from the second grade music classroom. It was nighttime—school was out and the recorders were in the throes of their nightly celebration. There was dancing, alcohol, and even crack cocaine. It was a jolly time, for almost everybody.

“Lulu! Why aren’t you tooting or looting?” asked Tria wildly.
“Tria, haven’t you ever just wanted to—to…” Lulu paused, searching for the right words. “Have you ever felt you were meant for something else?”
“Like… Being a flute?”
“Kind of,” sighed Lulu. “Tria… I want to be a surgeon.”
“A surgeon!” exclaimed Tria. She contained her laugh, but it was quite clear she was containing it. “Why?”
“I like internal organs,” Lulu answered softly. “It’s kind of weird I guess. I just want to be with them.”
“You’re talking like you’re on crack cocaine, Lulu!” wailed Tria.
“You’re on crack cocaine, Tria.”
“I know!” cried Tria as she continued trying to eat her lip.
“Psst!”

Lulu ignored the sound at first, but its repetition encouraged her to find its owner. It was the bartender, alone at the other end of the bar. She was signaling her. Lulu slowly approached.

“You want to be a surgeon?” asked the bartender gruffly.
“Yes,” said Lulu, blunt out of confusion.
“I know a guy,” she said, not looking at Lulu. “The music closet. When the party’s off, go there. Tell ‘em what’s up.” The bartender then made quick but intense eye contact with Lulu. Lulu had to believe her.

Hours later, there were just a few stragglers left out. Lulu felt that was sufficient enough an ending. Sneaking through the shadows, she dashed to the music closet’s door. With aggressive recorder-like action, she managed to pick its lock and slip inside.

The room was dark, lit only by a glow from an ambiguous source. ”Hello?” she called. There was silence. This silence was soon accompanied by a large shadow, and a single pair of footsteps.

From behind a large shelf appeared a gorgeous woman. She wore a thin silk dress that matched the shadows. Her bright right lipstick gleamed brilliantly in the darkness.

“Hello,” she responded, falling to her knees to come closer to Lulu. Lulu stared anxiously.

“I—I want to be a surgeon,” she declared, only her stammer hinting at her nerves. The woman smiled out of the corner of her mouth.

“You want to be a surgeon, baby?” she cooed. “I can teach you.”

The woman sat down and proceeded to stretch out her legs. Lulu soon had no choice but to observe that the woman was definitely not wearing anything under that silk dress.

“But first you have to do a little something for me.”

Lulu was not quite expecting this, but she hadn’t known what to expect in the first place. While stunned, she was furiously willing to do whatever it took. Lulu was just thankful for the chance.

“What are you waiting for?” asked the woman in a low voice. “Get to it, slave.”

Lulu obeyed. She approached the woman’s vagina with conviction and began by teasing, running her mouth piece in the spaces between the thighs and the outer labia. She gracefully moved her way to the outer labia, gently pressing along its edges. The woman’s breathing grew as heavy as Lulu’s curiosity.

“Is this an internal organ?” asked Lulu.

“Some of it isn’t,” the woman purred. “But keep exploring and you just may find the parts that are.”

Lulu began to run her mouth piece between the inner and outer labia, trading between sides. The clitoris was now hard, and Lulu took notice. She first flicked it playfully with her mouth piece, then, spreading the woman’s lips slightly, took the clitoris in her window to give it a gentle suckle. The woman’s feet planted themselves to the ground as she rocked her hips in ecstasy.

Beyond the labia, Lulu could make out a small hole. It was desolate and formidable, but the thrill that it could be internal organs pushed her forward. Her mouth piece advanced, when…

A loud and disruptive clamoring came from behind. Lulu spun to witness a pack of muscular woman storm into the closet, dressed in sharp contrast to the woman. Their clothes were loose and tattered. They leered at Lulu.

“What are you doing, faggot?” roared one woman in the front. Lulu noticed they were all clenching crobars. Lulu looked toward the red-lipped woman. The red-lipped woman looked at Lulu, then to the hulking woman towering above her. Her eyes narrowed.

“Get her,” said the red-lipped woman casually. The muscular women obeyed. Lulu was grabbed from the ground only to be thrust back down to it, clattering on the hard floor. The gang surrounded her and took turns manically swinging their crobars at her. She snapped in several places and watched in horror at the irreparable damage being done to her. The pieces grew smaller, and the pain was beyond comprehension.

The violent passion of the bulging women subsided as the red-lipped woman stood above Lulu’s horrifyingly mangled body.

“Think next time before being born a filthy little cooch smoocher,” she crooned. And in a flash, the women all disappeared.

Lulu surveyed what had become of her figure through the only one of her tone holes still intact. Strange glops surrounded. They were solid, and appeared soft and moist. They were oozing a liquid even redder than those lips had been. It looked like they had come from Lulu’s broken pieces. Lulu smiled.

“My internal organs,” she whimpered. “My internal organs.”

Lulu’s corpse was swept up by a janitor the next morning.