Chapter Text
Wednesday Addams believed in keeping her emotions in check. This did not mean suppressing them, rather, it meant being attentive to them, and never allowing them to be undersatisfied or oversatisfied. It was good to let one's bloodlust run occasionally – it was troublesome to be a serial killer. What was a perfect lifestyle for some was a distraction for others. She still needed to graduate from Nevermore, after all, and still needed to finish her latest novel.
Just as she dedicated one hour a night to writing – one hour, no less; one hour, no more – she dedicated the same to the quelling of her bestial, girlish urges. The tickling feeling between her thighs that swelled, as the midnight hour approached, into a cacophony of feeling – clammy and spasming and bordering on senseless.
To this end, the false bottom of her trunk was filled with a number of … implements. Her mother had been quick to equip her with some; the essentials that surely no woman could live without. Dildo. Vibrator. Nipple clamps. Others, she had come to on her own, discovering the strange, distant landscapes of her libido. Things that she knew better than to reveal to others, lest they ever be used to blackmail her with. She didn't mind being blackmailed, but it would cause undue trouble for her roommate, Enid.
This midnight hour, unfortunately, had become troublesome as her body underwent changes even more monstrous than a werewolf's. She could scarcely write with that heat behind her legs and all those … thoughts, racing through her mind like gnats, chewing away at her quiet.
Wednesday had grown bored of her libido, and she needed to take control again. While she certainly believed in the power of her will, she needed immediate results… She called Thing over to her desk, where she had sat stewing in thought.
— Thing, I need you to steal something from my parent's bedroom — she intoned in a low hush. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Enid perk up. Could she ever keep a secret from someone with those ears? At least Wednesday was deathly silent and subtle while managing her arousal, no matter the tools she chose. She whispered her next words even more subtly, as Thing formed a question mark with his finger-body: — A chastity belt. My mother almost certainly has one somewhere. Search everything if you need to. Though … it will likely be lying on the bedside table given her attitude towards modesty.
Thing squirmed as if to complain through charades, but Wednesday snapped at him like a dog and sent him off into the dark and stormy night. She could wait a few more days…
Enid Sinclair couldn't take another day of this. Why, WHY, did it have to start when Wednesday was her roommate!? At least when Yoko was her roommate, she could just turn up her music really loud so that she couldn't hear what she was doing under her sheets! If she tried that with Wednesday, she would have five feet and an extra inch of Victorian orphan girl in her face before she could even think of a cute guy to imagine.
With this thing dangling between her legs now, always nagging her to touch it, she couldn't do anything about it without letting out little noises that she knew Wednesday would hear in a second with her freakishly keen attention.
And look, Enid didn't want to make a big deal out of it, but it hadn't just made her hornier… It had changed things about her desires. In math class, she found herself staring at Wednesday in a way she never had before with anyone. Well, boys, but that was different. This was different! She couldn't keep her eyes off Wednesday's hair, her cheeks, even her ankles, like Jesus!
Enid knew what it was immediately… She had become … hungry for human flesh! She couldn't help it. It was her werewolf urges. Every time Wednesday was near her, she felt this panging in her gut like someone punched her. The way Wednesday's hands poked out of her sweaters… The way her lips looked so full and soft with her plum lipstick… The way her feet dangled over the side of the bed when she was getting ready to sleep… She was irresistible. Enid just wanted to go over there and grab her and … uh, eat her, she guessed. It wasn't really obvious what her feet had to do with that but maybe that was just how all predators felt.
If this kept going, Wednesday was going to notice and … Enid didn't know what. Wednesday always talked about liking serial killers and other messed up people, but if she was the victim, Enid didn't think she would wait around to be dinner.
At least it helped to sneak out to the bathroom and … “rub one out”, like guys always said. Urgh, yuck! Why did her mom never tell her about this?
— Is this it? — Wednesday asked as she snatched up the black sack that Thing pathetically dragged across the floor. He gave a passive aggressive thumbs-up and she made for her desk, eager to look over her spoils.
It wasn't the medieval torture device Wednesday had expected. It was sleek, ergonomic, and designed to cover nothing but her womanhood. The slit at the front, through which she imagined she would need to relieve herself, was corrugated as if in imitation of vagina dentata. Wednesday let the smallest smirk flash across her face where neither Thing nor Enid could see it. Perhaps this would be chic-er than she had realised.
In she and Enid's shared bathroom, she peeled off her tights and underwear. It dawned on her only then that wearing either would be impractical now, but that was an acceptable sacrifice. She owned plenty of pairs of pants and long skirts, after all.
Wednesday flinched away from the frigid touch of her own hands as she grazed her thighs, then drew them greedily back, toying with that dull, stinging feeling. Ice cubes on the flesh were best, but this was delightful enough too. She knew the metal of the chastity belt would be all the colder, like the bite of surgical instruments. She should acclimate herself… Her fingers tip-toed up towards her nether regions. (She had always liked that term. Nether regions. As if the souls of the damned would find their eternal punishment there.) They found hotter and hotter flesh as they danced upwards. Heat and cold mixed into one tumultuous sensation that left Wednesday unsteady on her feet, just as when she lounged on the balcony in the nude when the wind was as sharp as a blanket of knives.
A dalliance with her labia, just a brush, as her fingers searched for what they truly desired. Wednesday pressed gracefully on her clitoris, feeling all that pressure and blood rushing around it. Pressing hard, her hips ached outwards as she began to slip to the floor.
She let go, and collected herself immediately. That was more than enough. Wednesday stepped into the chastity belt carefully, like other girls might step into lingerie, and drew it up to her loins. She shuddered as the metal enveloped her softer parts. She had seen that the back was more utilitarian, only a metal ring that spread her just slightly. Certainly chilly, but not an issue. Wednesday wasn't averse to pleasing herself in the Italian way, but she had never been able to climax with that alone. The temptation shouldn't bother her, she thought…
With it on, she flipped her skirt back down and let herself become familiar with the weight and presence of it below. She would notice it when she walked, but it was nothing she couldn't learn to ignore. That was the point, after all, to lock away her sex where it could bother her no longer. Already, Wednesday felt a sense of control wash over her, like she had just disposed of a body where the police would never, ever find it. Nothing more to worry about.
Well, there was one thing. Wednesday returned to her bed and pondered the remaining question: what to do with the key? If she possessed it, that would defeat the point of the entire endeavour. But she couldn't throw it away. Perhaps someday she might find herself with more time for girlish activities, and it would be a pain to search for bolt cutters. She needed to give it to someone… Thing? He lost things far too easily. Pugsley? She didn't trust him to look after sea monkeys. Her parents? They would give her a long lecture about accepting one's passions. And, in any case, family were out of the question. Wednesday loathed the idea of involving them in her non-sex life. Only one person remained on her little list…
— Enid, I have a favour to ask of you — Wednesday said, having marched over to the middle of the room. They had done away with the tape keeping them separated, but Wednesday still found value in personal space.
Enid jumped up from her bed with a puzzled look on her face. — The Wednesday wants something from me?
— Spare me the shock. This is important. I need someone to look after something and you … are the only person I trust within the nearest 25,000 miles.
Enid became distracted, as if she was trying to work out how far away 25,000 miles was, before taking on a cheery look and saying: — Alright, sure! Buuuuuut… — Wednesday whinced internally. — You have to promise that you'll do something for me!
— Like what? — Wednesday said darkly.
— I don't know! I'll think of it later. Maybe I'll make you go shopping with me or let me do your makeup.
— I can hardly agree to terms that are not yet decided, Enid.
— Sure you can. Look, Wednesday, that's my final offer!
Wednesday pursed her lips and said: — Fine. I am indebted to you for one thing and no more.
Enid celebrated with herself, jumping up and down and rocking the whole floor. — So, what did you need, roomie?
With a flash of metal, Wednesday produced a small, unnoticeable key. — Keep this safe somewhere. Do not give it to anyone. Only return it if I specifically ask.
Enid sheepishly took it, turning it over in her fingers, looking for distinguishing marks that she would never find. — What does it open? Did you, like, lock away an evil grimoire?
— A chastity belt — Wednesday said calmly.
— A chastity WHAT? WHOSE? Why do you have the key to someone's chastity belt!? — she shouted, a flush spreading into her moony cheeks. — Wednesday, I don't know if I'm comfortable with this. I mean, I won't judge if you're doing weird stuff with some guy but don't get me involved!
— It's nothing like that. It is my chastity belt — Wednesday said, quite sure it was a reasonable request to make of a friend.
— YOURS? Why- why do you have… — Enid dangled the key out in front of herself, like it would bite her. — You know what, I don't want to ask! It's gonna be something creepy, and weird, and just super concerning.
— I have perfectly good reasons. — Her roommate seemed unconvinced. — Enid, I need you to do this.
If Enid couldn't help her, who else could she ask? Perhaps there was purpose in having a boyfriend after all, though somehow she doubted Tyler would have been any more helpful, monstrous abomination or not.
— Need?.. — Enid repeated. She thought for a moment, still cringing. With a little sigh, she unwound. — Well, okay. If it's THAT important, I'll hold onto it so that you can't … um, doooo whatever you were going to do. Just promise me you aren't doing this as part of some, like, serial killer ritual!
— I promise, Enid — Wednesday said, trying to sound as sincere as she could.
Enid smiled then, small and content. — Alright, roomie. — She looked over the key some more, apparently no longer concerned it would eat her. — So… I've got Wednesday under my thumb! — she said to some imaginary audience. — Ooooh, I can make you do anything I want now.
— Excuse me? — Had all her trust been for nothing?
— You know, like, I've got you on a leash now with this thing.
— A leash?
— It's a metaphor, okay! Just… If you're ever being difficult, I can just remind you that I've got this! — she said, flashing the key in the moonlight.
— Trust me, Enid. I won't bend to something so insipid. If you imagine I will come to you begging on my hands and knees for sweet release, you are sorely mistaken.
— Not what I was imagining, but okay. Think whatever you want, Wednesday. Just keep in mind that I've got one over you now…
Enid skipped away to her bed like the happiest girl in the world. Wednesday was left stranded in the middle of the room, somehow feeling she had made a grave, grave mistake. But what had it been?
Wednesday attempted not to be bothered by the fact that Enid wore the key around her neck during every waking hour. Why should it bother her? Some of the other students had inquired about its significance, and Enid thankfully had the sense to give effusive answers about mementos and heirlooms. Perhaps, the other students imagined, it opened an old door in her family home, or a jewellery box that her mother had gifted her as a screaming babe. Wednesday alone knew the indignified truth, that the thing dangling from Enid Sinclair fit neatly between her thighs.
But she did not allow it to bother her. Even when Enid flashed it to her while trying to convince her to let her play music in their room, or to take Wednesday to some pop concert, Wednesday stood her ground. She hadn't thought about sex or anything adjacent to it in weeks. Her mind had become a well-groomed place, with nothing there but what she put there. The newly-found hour before bed was spent researching for her novel. How much more rewarding to busy herself with knowledge than with base pleasure. The feeling of the little cage against her legs and waist was forgotten within days, like the scent of an old house, or the crashing of the wind on a cliff side…
Yes, everything was going exactly as she planned. She had sent Thing off with a thank-you card to leave in her mother's dresser, just to show appreciation for the help she didn't yet know she had given Wednesday.
Enid told the teacher she felt sick, and it was true, but she still felt guilty about it. In the bathroom stall, she fiddled with the little key around her neck while her other hand was lower down, fiddling with something else… She still had her clothes on. She wasn't a weirdo. But through her skirt and her underwear, she rubbed slowly, desperate for anything that would make it settle down, or at least stop aching so much.
Her wolf cravings had got even worse. It was like, ever since she did Wednesday that favour, everything had become ten times stronger. Now that she had something over Wednesday, maybe her wolf side thought she was more vulnerable, easier to snatch up and eat… Enid hated it, hated thinking of her friend that way, like a piece of meat!
It was so confusing, having her cravings mixed with the feeling of being horny all the time…
Enid wished she could have stopped her fingers from going down the front of her skirt, down her panties. It was so hot and big, like some slug crawled out of her, but she could barely even focus enough to think it was gross. She just needed to make it stop, to make it… She squeezed the tip of it clumsily. Man, why did her parents make her skip out on sex ed.! She knew that guys touched themselves too, but how did they do it? Enid's body just kept screaming at her to do it properly, to do it more, but she didn't know what more was. She tried to rub along the length of it, like she was massaging it. With the way she squirmed and lost her breath, she must have been doing something right, but it wasn't enough. She rubbed harder and harder, feeling it grow stiff and thick under her fingers…
Enid seized up, holding onto the toilet so she wouldn't fall off, as wave after wave of SOMETHING went through her whole body. She couldn't move her fingers but she felt it throbbing in a big, long pulses beneath them. When she looked down, a faint ringing in her ears, there was some sticky white stuff on her stomach.
Enid panicked and unfurled some toilet paper to wipe it off. Oh my G-d, she was just jerking off in the girls' bathroom! What was wrong with her? She must have stunk so bad… She was already a teenage girl, already a teenage WOLF girl, and now her- her- her DICK smelled like nothing she ever smelt before. She really did have a dick, like a guy. Oh G-d, oh G-d, oh G-d! Enid put her clothes back on properly and ran to the sink to douse her face in cold water. What was she going to do? Why would any guy ever want to be with her if she was like this? She would have to run away and live on her own in the woods…
Enid ran until she reached the dorm room and threw herself into bed, hiding under the covers. Wednesday wouldn't be back for another half-hour. She could scream if she needed to and no one would hear…
Wednesday… If Enid couldn't even control her dick, how could she control the rest of her body! It wasn't safe for her to be here, living with her.
Maybe Enid was the one who needed a chastity belt. She snickered at the little joke, and her face became wet with tears.
Wednesday felt … odd. At first, she suspected she had contracted a contagious disease from Enid, (who had been regularly flushed and sickly, but denied being at all under the weather.) Several self-administered tests confirmed what no sick person wished to hear, however: she was perfectly fine. Why was it, then, that it felt as though there was a lead weight inside her brain? And worse yet, that she could barely write a hundred words during her writing hour without her thoughts devolving into erratic, breathy visions of inexplicable things… Vampiresses with too-tight corsets and long fangs, preying on vulnerable young women. She was a fan of Le Fanu, but Wednesday would much rather Carmilla remain inside the book.
During botany class one day, a monstrous specimen of plant wound itself up her leg and refused to let go no matter how firmly she threatened it with death. Flora had never been so fixated on her before, not as it fixated on girls who wore far too much floral perfume. The school's replacement botany teacher, a miniature old woman who must have been at least one-hundred-and-fifty, told her it was named virgin's killer. Wednesday didn't like the sound of this.
As the bell tower rang out to call in lunch, she stole away to one of the girls' bathrooms to look herself over, hoping she was merely infected with some magical malady. What Wednesday found, no longer distracted by lessons, was a patch of wetness in her pants. In one of the stalls, she pulled them down with clinical care. If only she had found red, discovered that the family doctor was wrong about her amenorrhea. But there was only a clear, slick liquid that clung to the inside of her thighs and wet her pubic hair far worse than sweat. Wednesday ran her finger along the dentata of the chastity belt, and came away with a string of saliva-like girlish essence.
This wasn't what she had planned. She touched the chastity belt, trying to readjust it, but the smallest shock of it against her clitoris was like having her ear yanked. This wasn't what she had planned at all… Wednesday pulled her pants up again and brought her knees up to her chest, perched on the toilet so no one would see her feet under the stall door. She needed time to think.
Stop freaking out, Enid! Everything was great. Everything was cooool. Her mom would definitely blow up if she found out she was smoking weed with Yoko, but Enid had way bigger issues. And the only way to deal with that big issue in her pants was to CHILL. OUT.
She laid spread out on the floorboards, staring up at the candle-lit chandelier hanging from the roof, watching the flames flickering like there was a ring of them just above her head… It was sort of calming.
— So, has your “roomie” been getting on your nerves? — Yoko asked, taking a puff of her weed cigarette.
— Huh? Wednesday? — Enid said. — No, Wednesday's great! She's been way friendlier this term. We've really got a good thing going on. I think she doesn't even want to throw me out the window anymore when I'm recording my vlog.
— Huh — Yoko said. — That's surprising.
— Why?
— Whenever you see her, it looks like you're fighting the urge to kill her.
— Well- um- — Enid stuttered. — You know, everyone fights. Sometimes she, um, leaves the toilet seat up! Don't you hate when someone does that?
Yoko took another puff and said like she'd thought about it for hours: — Why would Wednesday leave the toilet seat up?
Damn it! Argh, yeah, why would she? Enid only did because of her… Okay, Enid, focus.
— Hey, can I have the weed cigarette again? — Enid asked.
Yoko glanced at her, eyes hidden behind her glasses, and said with a smirk: — That's not what it's called, you know.
— I don't care what it's called! — Enid barked, sitting up straight with her eyebrows knit together like an angry sweater.
Yoko shrugged and passed it over. Enid gagged before she even tried to breathe it in, but she powered through it. Man, how did Yoko and the others get used to this? It tasted just like the stuff that Enid stole from her dad's office when she was really little, except it wasn't just on her tongue and in her throat. It was everywhere. She swore she could feel it in her brain.
A weird tingle passed over her whole body, and Enid felt a little better. Breathe, Enid, breathe…
Yoko's room was almost pitch black, lit just by candles and lamps with dim, red bulbs. If she was in the mood, it would have creeped her out, but Enid just stared at all her decor like she was watching paint dry. Skulls sat on shelves. Taxidermied bats hung from the rafters. There was a giant painting over the fireplace of some creepy dead guy. It was all … kind of lame. Yoko was cool, but it wasn't really scary.
Now, Wednesday's side of their room – that was scary. If she didn't know a 16-year-old girl lived there, she would think it was haunted by a ghost. The way her typewriter click-clacked before bed. That spooky cavern that her bed was hidden in. Her record-player-thingy that she played old music on. It was so much moodier. It gave Enid the creeps and … well, that was more Goth-y, right? It was meant to be scary! Wednesday's gloom felt authentic. With Yoko, it just felt like a style…
— Yoko… — Enid started slowly. — Do you ever worry about hurting someone you care about … because of … the things you want?
— Someone I care about? Like Divina?
— Uh, sure, like Divina. — Enid was thinking more platonic but maybe it was the same in this case.
— Never. Divina and I tell each other everything we want, and we just … work it out.
— Huh… So, even if you want something…
— Something weird? — Yoko asked, snorting. — Yes, Enid, I get my freak on with my girlfriend. I assume you don't want to know that just out of curiosity, so: who's the new boy?
— Boy? No, no, wait, I'm talking about something tooootally different. Urgh, nevermind! You'll just get the wrong idea.
— Whatever you say, Enid.
Enid laid back down with her hands across her tummy, hoping that if she tried hard enough, she could just hold it all in. She couldn't tell Wednesday about her cravings. That would be insane. She would get a load of silver bullets through her chest, not Wednesday being understanding. What would it even mean for them to “work it out”? Maybe … Wednesday could cook for her? Is that how it worked? It might trick her brain into thinking she ate Wednesday. No, that was dumb!
There was no getting around it. She just needed to push her hunger down deep, deep inside her until it could never get out… Then she would be happy for the rest of her life and everything would be perfect! She could finally ask Wednesday to go swimming with her without worrying that she would end up being put down…
— Hey, Yoko, do you know how to go vegan? — Enid asked, turning over to her.
— Enid, what is up with you today? Are you on drugs? — Yoko asked.
The girls laughed until the people in the dorm next door came to tell them to shut up.
The weekend arrived. Wednesday lay in bed like a convalescent child, blanket pulled up over her nightgown-bound body. She had sent Thing to Enid's side of the room, but hadn't told Enid about her … affliction. It was simple enough to hide. Enid didn't ask about Wednesday's fashion choices so long as she glared maliciously enough. A mask to cover her flush was practically background noise to her.
But her condition refused to improve. There was a heat between her legs as if she had swallowed fire, and a throbbing like a migraine that threatened to split her skull into two neat halves. Under the covers, her hands disobeyed her, and ran down her sides, down to her thighs, and back up again, over and over, smoothing over her clammy skin as if it would fix anything, as if Wednesday simply had a few frayed ends.
If this continued any longer, she would be in a mental asylum by next week, raving and spasming in senseless madness. She imbibed a concoction prepared from plants stolen from the greenhouse, but to no avail. Alchemists had discovered hundreds of aphrodisiacs, but it seemed none of them had ever imagined one would desire the opposite.
Her hands drew closer to her front, tracing out the dulled edge of the chastity belt through her sleeping dress. A disgusting kind of drool leaked onto the sheets below. Yet more laundry to send Thing off with. It was unceasing. Every hour of every day, there was that constant wetness, a reminder that neither will nor cunning had been enough to stave off her unfortunately human side.
She brought her hands over the metal shield of her maidenhood, and pulled it hard into herself. It only made it worse, but the allure of that small moment of stimulation was irresistible, like a child scratching at a mosquito bite.
Enid still possessed the key. She could end this. Spells of arousal in the night were nothing compared to this all-consuming madness. Wednesday rose from her bed, legs weak beneath her.
— Enid… — she called shakily across the room.
— Wednesday? — her roommate replied, putting down her phone and coming to meet her halfway. — Are you okay? You seem really sick…
— I'm fine. The key. Do you have it?
— Ohhhh, I get it — Enid said with a mischievous look. — I was right! Now you're crawling back to me… Mwahaha — she mock-laughed.
— Enid — Wednesday said lower, glowering. — Where is the key?
She reached down the front of her pajama top and pulled it out. After a moment of struggling with her fingers, she unhooked it. Wednesday made to snatch it from her but Enid backed away before she could, smirking like an impish thing.
— You have to say “thank you, Enid”, first — Enid said, tut-tutting her.
— For what? — Wednesday growled.
— For taking care of it for you. And, for graciously returning it to you when you need it.
— I don't “need” it.
— You don't? Well, then I guess I won't give it back — Enid chimed, throwing the key in the air and catching it again in mockery.
— Enid- — Wednesday snapped. — I'm not afraid to take it from you.
— Fiiiiine. I was only teasing anyway — Enid said. She threw it up again. — You still owe me that pr- — Panic flashed across her face as the key fell not into her hands, but careened past them, down to the floor. A tink of metal against the wood. Both girls watched, as if each passing moment were a photograph in series, as it bounced on tip and end, and bounced again, and then fell between the floorboards down into who knows where.
— Oh no — Enid blurted out. — Wednesday, Wednesday, wait! — she cried as Wednesday stood utterly, perfectly still, not a single muscle in her body moving.
— I had hoped that, as friends, I would be able to trust you with something like this, but I see now that this was the hopelessly mistaken delusion of a girl with a thoroughly addled mind.
— I … I'm sorry, Wednesday. I didn't mean to lose the key. I promise. Let me try to find it! — Enid begged.
— Thing — Wednesday called. — Bring me the crowbar in my trunk.
Step one: use the crowbar to take off the belt. Step two: reprimand Enid mechanically.
Wednesday snatched the crowbar off him as he dragged it, and bunched up the skirt of her nightgown around her waist to break off the little heart-shaped lock.
Enid hid her face in her hands, the entirety of it turning red like a tomato, and yelled: — Wednesday, stop! You're going to hurt yourself! Look, it's not the end of the world, okay?
— I'm sure that it is easy to say when you are not the one locked in the chastity belt — Wednesday said, letting the crowbar clatter to her side.
— No, I mean… There's other ways to … “get off”, right? — Enid stuttered, peeking through her fingers.
— And those are? — Wednesday interrogated, knowing that Enid knew less about sex than the average five-year-old knew about the permanence of physical reality. Tormenting someone would take her mind off the heat, the throbbing.
— Well, there's that thing where you do it with your butt… — Enid said, strained and slow like a buzzer would sound if it were the wrong answer.
That thing where you do it with your butt. Wednesday supposed it was as good a description as any.
— I've never been able to orgasm from that — Wednesday said.
— Wh- okay! Kind of TMI! — Enid said, eyes growing as wide as dinner plates.
— We are far beyond “TMI”, Enid — she said, knitting her eyebrows together.
— Good point… Well, um, — She swallowed loudly. — Maybe you just need to do it with someone else?
It wasn't an insane suggestion, though she had never expected to be discussing something so explicit with her roommate. It was common wisdom that masturbation was lesser to sex with another.
Enid continued: — So, you know- if there's any boys you like, you could ask them. I heard that guys are really into th-
— No — Wednesday said sharply. — You are the one who caused this and you will be the one to fix it, Enid.
— I- ME!? — Enid said, laughing fakely. — But, I couldn't even- I don't HAVE one of those.
Wednesday shot her an annoyed, knowing look.
— How? — Enid said in total exasperation. — Have you been spying on me!?
— I… — Wednesday said, stopping herself to collect her thoughts. — Since I began my chastity, I have been able to … smell it.
— Oh my G-d, I'm gonna kill myself! — Enid cried, curling up in a ball on the floor to pull at her hair. — This has to be some kind of nightmare…
Ridiculous. She should be kicking her where she sits. She should be hitting her with the crowbar. So why did Wednesday feel so overwhelming a desire to comfort her?
Wednesday crouched beside her, and hated herself for saying: — Enid, stop making that horrible noise. There is no reason to be ashamed of it. I've read about the phenomenon… Certain female werewolves develop a pseudo-penis.
— Don't call it that! — Enid sobbed.
— Forgive me… — Wednesday said, the minuscule mote of human empathy inside of her winning despite the odds. — I dislike the term as well. It privileges reproductive capabilities as the standard by which to judge the purpose of organs. What you have should simply be called a penis.
— No! That's what you're not supposed to call it! — Enid revealed her face, cheeks dappled with tears. — Wednesday, I'm a girl. I'm not supposed to have one of those! Pseudo or not.
— Enid- — Wednesday resented the world that had done this to her roommate, that had compelled her to hate herself. Yes, on occasion Wednesday hated Enid, but what Wednesday admired about Enid was that she refused to be anyone but herself, even for her. To see her crushed like this was unforgiveable. — Help me, and I will prove that you were meant to be like this.
Enid wiped away the tears from her red, hot eyes. — I can't… You don't know how I've been lately, Wednesday. I've been a monster.
— A monster? — Wednesday said, toying with the ridiculous word.
— I've felt things about you that no one should ever feel… Horrible things… Things that would make you never trust me again…
— Enid, are you … sapphicly infatuated with me? — Wednesday asked, taken aback.
— INFATUATED!? No! I just want to … to … you know … eat you — she said, trailing off into a small, sheepish voice.
— I don't understand. Semantics aside: you are sexually interested in me?
— No! — she shouted more desperately. — I'm being literal. Eat! Bite! Chew! Chomp on! Devour!.. That's why I went vegan. I've been trying to control it. Trying to keep you safe…
— While I'm touched by your consideration, I struggle to believe you would do any such thing.
— You don't know that… — Enid mumbled. — I could hurt you, Wednesday. Like Tyler…
Wednesday brought a hand to Enid's face, but not to cup her cheek in some sentimental gesture. She opened her mouth just wide enough for a single finger, and set one gently inside, between Enid's perfect white fangs. Her roommate looked as though she had suffered a heart attack. Enid's face grew so red that Wednesday feared for her health. Her brain might be boiled from without.
— It doesn't even sting — Wednesday said. — If you are a monster, you are not a very good one, Enid.
— Wemsthay… — Enid tried to say.
Wednesday quirked her head, waiting for her to speak.
— Tape your hinga oub of my mouv! — she ordered.
— Oh.
— Please don't ever do that again, oh my G-d — Enid yelped, covering her face again.
— Why? Did it hurt?
— No! Just- let's forget about it! — What a strange girl. — I get what you were trying to say. Maybe I don't want to eat you…
— Definitely not. I can't imagine you being a ravenous wolf. You're more like … a very stubborn puppy.
— Don't call me a puppy! — Enid barked. The way her mouth turned up at the ends confused Wednesday. Why was she begging for mercy while smiling? — I still don't understand what these feelings mean, but it makes me feel a little bit better that they aren't hunger… Oh my G-d, Wednesday, I'm so sorry for making this about me. I just remembered this is all my fault…
— I will not deny that, but … perhaps I was as foolish as you.
— Really?
— Seeing you practice such ruthless self-denial was illuminating.
— I don't really know what that means but I'm glad. Though, hey, you broke your promise that it wasn't some weird thing!
— Can you ever forgive me for my deception?
— Weeeell… I think so. Yeah — Enid said, throwing her arms open. Wednesday pressed herself slowly into her embrace, like dipping into freezing cold water. Enid held her tight. Why was this happening? Wednesday could smell the fruity fragrance of her sweater, and the sweat clinging to her skin. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed. — So… — Enid started. — Were you serious about wanting me to “help you” until we found the key? Or…
— Deathly serious. Do you intend to shirk your new duty to me? — Enid released her from her fruity embrace. Something warm and furtive sat in the midst of Wednesday's brain, like the hearth of a grand old home.
— No… But, we're friends, and- you're not a lesbian!
— I can be … flexible — Wednesday admitted. — And it's because you are my friend that I trust you. Perhaps I shouldn't, but I do.
— Flexible? Wednesday… Are- are you… — Enid's words were caught in her throat. — L- sapph-
— No — Wednesday snapped. — There is no world in which I would ever be infatuated with you. You are loud, pushy, delusional, socially unaware, and altogether annoying.
— But… Isn't that why you like me?
— That's entirely different — Wednesday said. She grabbed hold of Enid's head and wrenched one of her eyes open to examine her. — Perhaps your lycanthropy is giving you strange ideas.
— Hey! Wednesday! — Enid yelled, flailing.
Wednesday let her prey go and sat placidly on her knees. — Whatever takes place between the two of us will be completely and intractably platonic. Think of it like … a girls' night.
— You make it sound so easy. Are you really comfortable doing this? Shouldn't your first time be with someone special? And not … a stranger.
— But you aren't a stranger.
— I know, but I'm not, you know, part of your life! I'm just your roommate. I'm just … passing through… You'll get a new roommate eventually. You'll leave Nevermore. And then your first time will be with someone you don't even think about anymore. I don't want to ruin it for you, Wednesday.
— Enid, you are inextricably woven into the fabric of my life. You have made yourself a figure in my personal mythology. You saved my life, and there is no future in which I am not forever indebted to you.
— Aww, Wednesdayyyy — Enid cooed, smooshing her own cheeks as if redirecting some urge to do it to Wednesday. — That's the weirdest and sweetest thing you've ever said!
— Are you happy now that I have showed you my girlish and vulnerable heart?
— A little — Enid said, so giddy that she was vibrating. — I knew you had one in there somewhere.
Wednesday pursed her lips. She was becoming too soft. She needed to set the world in balance again. Strike. She said quizzically: — I notice that you had seemingly no qualms about losing your own virginity to me.
— Well, that's because- you're you! It's like if I had my first time with Taylor Swift. — Wednesday quirked an eyebrow. — I could brag SO much if I had my first time with Wednesday Addams.
— You will not tell anyone what we do, especially not to brag, or I will-
— I'm not being serious- please don't try to kill me in my sleep! — she yelped. — I would just brag in my head.
— Hm… — Wednesday hummed. — I didn't know you thought I was so … “cool”.
— Everyone thinks you're cool, silly…
— Many would beg to differ.
— Well, I guess you're just an acquired taste.
— Oh? Perhaps you do want to eat me after all.
— Noooo — Enid whined. — What's with you today and nitpicking everything I say?
— It's punishment for losing the key.
— Oh, right… I'm still really sorry, Wednesday. I was just trying to have a little fun. I can't even remember why now.
Wednesday had begun to form a vivid picture of why, but Enid could discover that on her own.
— If you're sorry, then make it up to me.
— By…
— By helping me satisfy my arousal, yes.
Enid hid her face in her hands and squeaked: — Eek! I keep forgetting… It's like something you dream and then you sort of half-remember it in the morning and you can't tell if it really happened.
— You must have curious dreams — Wednesday teased dryly.
Enid gave a low growl as a response. — Anyway, when did you want to do it? — She was so afraid of saying what “it” was. What an unfortunate creature.
— I was thinking tonight — Wednesday said, surprised it was in question.
— Now!?
— Now.
— I was thinking tomorrow at least! I mean, we're both kind of gross and sweaty at the moment, no offense.
— None taken. I could smell you from the other side of the room.
— And this is TOTALLY not the mood. I've been crying and you've been … Wednesday-ing out.
— You make a compelling argument, despite your choice of language. Perhaps I could wait few more days. Our conversation does seem to have allayed my nymphomania, if only temporarily.
— Your “nymphomania”… Okay — Enid say, as if she were allergic to syllables.
— Hush. How does next Sunday sound? You and I can both clean ourselves and perhaps I could prepare … an ambiance.
— I was going to hang with Yoko then but … I owe this to you, so, alright. It's a date.
— It's not a date.
— Right, NOT a date. It's another thing that's totally different and that I'm not allowed to tell anyone about.
— I'm glad you understand.
As Wednesday lay awake in bed that night, wholly unable to sleep, she tried as she might to retrace her steps, retrace the path that had led from her troubled thoughts that night several weeks ago, to this night, on which she had agreed to have sex with her closest friend. Wednesday was not sure she would ever understand.
At least her mind and body were at peace, for a time. Her thoughts drifted gently to questions of a scientific character… No one had yet published a treatise on the nature of the female werewolf penis. If she were the first – it would look wonderful on her resume.