Hey everyone! I thought it’d be fun if I shared with you the only fan fiction I ever wrote, something I penned a few years ago. I think you’ll see that this was a “completely serious attempt” to write a “completely serious fan fiction”. The story is entitled 50 Tastes and Flavors.
Note: This is my fanfic of 50 Shades of Gray. Note that I’ve never read the book or watched the movie. All I know about said tale is that it used to be a Twilight fanfic and is about BDSM. I’m not sure what BDSM stands for. I’m going to assume it means Bloodsuckers (aka vampires) Doing Something Mischievous, which I think would describe this tale quite accurately. Also note I’ve never read Twilight either.
Warning: The following is a lurid tale of sin and debauchery. If I were you, I would put the kids to bed before reading this tale. I don’t care that the kids would only see you reading text and have no idea what you are reading. I don’t care that it’s 10 am and the kids are at school. You should get in your car, pull your kids from school, and then put them to bed before reading this story (this does not apply if you do not have kids).
I grew up in a typical suburban family, so I never even knew of his world. My mother was an aerobics instructor at the local gym and my father was the former middleweight champion of the world. The only world I ever knew was of fitness, nutrition, and exercise. Like most suburban girls, I was a mixed martial artist with a boxing background who needed work on her takedown and submissions. As I trained for the upcoming fight, I worked out at the local gym, the Evergreen Family Gym.
Most days would pass by without incident. I would run for a couple of hours on the treadmill, do some power lifting, do a couple thousand sit ups followed by another thousand pushups, interspersed with a sparring session or two, the typical work out for a girl my age. I made sure to eat a precise combination of fruits, vegetables, whole wheat bread and other such nutritious food to make sure my amino acid levels were precisely balanced in order to ensure that I was in tip-top fighting shape. The typical life of a typical girl. It was not until he began showing up at my gym that my world began to change.
He just started showing up one day, sitting on one of our benches. He was a handsome man with pale white skin and two protruding fangs that hung sexily out of his upper lip. He wore a chocolate colored suit with a red bow tie and was adorned with a dark black cape, unusual workout clothes to be sure, but I was never one to judge. Actually, he never really worked out. He just stared at the women and they moved around the gym. He never said anything, never did anything, really, but he still made all the women feel uncomfortable. All the women, except me. There was something about him that seemed striking, alluring, and perhaps even sinful. Deep down I knew he would awaken the hidden feelings I always had bottled up inside.
“Cheryl, have you ever noticed that weird guy in the cape?” Zach said to me on that fateful day, the day my life would change forever.
“Of course, he’s pretty conspicuous.”
“Yeah, well, could you talk to him for me? He’s starting to make all the women here feel uncomfortable and he gives me the creeps as well.”
“He doesn’t bother me and besides, I don’t work here, isn’t it your job to speak to him?”
“I would, but guys in capes always freak me out and it’s been that way for most of my life. I think it’s because when I was young I thought my father was Superman. And then I grew up and realized he was just a drunk who wears a cape.”
“You totally stole that from Dave Atell.”
“Who? Okay, look, the truth is I weigh, what, a buck ten soaking wet and you could snap most people here in two. I figure if things turn violent, you’re more likely to hold your own in a fight than me.”
“And they say chivalry’s dead. Oh, all right, I’ll do it. Just let me finish up here and I’ll get to it.”
With an approving nod and a relieved smile, Zach went back to work. I continued running on the treadmill until I finished my final mile. After my cool down, I took a deep sigh and began nervously approaching the cloaked stranger. Going into the octagon and fighting a woman out for blood? Easy, do it all the time. Talking to such a dashing and handsome man? Nerve wracking, so nerve wracking that I began to sweat profusely, though admittedly nobody noticed because I was already pretty sweaty due to all the running.
I greeted the man with a stuttering, “Uh, hello sir. May I talk to you for a minute?”
“Good evening. Of course you can talk to me, it would be an honor to speak to an enchantress such as yourself,” he said in an alluring accent.
“Uh, yeah, um, what’s your name?”
“You may call me The Count. What’s your name, my dear lady?”
“Cheryl Mason.” We began conversing, making all sorts of small talk, him talking about the old country and me forgetting why I was speaking to him in the first place.
“A mixed martial artist, you say,” he said, “Why, training for that takes a lot of work, does it not?”
“I’m pretty much here every waking hour,” I admitted to the man.
“Do you ever get tired of training?”
“Honestly, I never really thought about it.”
“Hmm… I know this will seem forward, but would you like to accompany me home. I have something to show you, something I feel you would be very interested in.”
The question took me by surprise. I had just met the man and he was already inviting me to his house. Normally, it’s like, what, three dates before you get to that stage? I don’t know, it’s something like that. Still, there was something about his cold dead eyes, his alluring grin and majestic teeth that had me completely mesmerized. I was like pink putty in his pale white hands.
“Sure. Just, let me finish up my workout, and we can head out of here.”
“Of course, my dear, I shall stay here, doing nothing in particular.” By the time I finished my workout and showered up, the evening had already turned to night. My prince had not moved a muscle, as he sat there motionless, valiantly awaiting my return.
“Okay, I’m ready to go,” I said, “Do you live around here?”
“I live only about a minute away. Do you just want to follow me? Where’s your car?”
“Car? I also live close by so I just ran here. You live a minute away and you drive to the gym?”
“Why run when we have technology?” he asked with a wink. He had a way with logic.
“Why don’t I just give you a ride to my house?” Silently I nodded and he drove us to his house. It actually took a minute and a half, but because the man was so charming I decided not to argue semantics. His house was a tall white house with a traditional triangle roof and a brown door, the only thing making his house distinguishable from the rest of the houses on the block.
In fact, it turns out I lived only a couple doors away from him. I had a yellow door, in case you were curious. Of course, I didn’t let him know that at the time. Still, while the outside of the house was the same as the rest of the neighborhood, it was the inside of the house where the true sin and debauchery lied.
“My humble abode, my dear,” he said as we entered the house. He led me past the living room to his kitchen. He flipped the switch, but the light didn’t go on. “Hmm… a light bulb appears to have burned out. I keep a bunch in the garage, it should take only a minute for me to get a new one. I’m very sorry, Cheryl. A minute please.”
He entered the garage and I was left to my own devices in the dark kitchen. I searched around a bit and the kitchen and it seemed normal enough at first glance. I noticed the cupboard. “Should I?” I asked to nobody in particular. “No, I shouldn’t, it would be rude to look, but then, well, I do wonder what kind of protein shakes he drinks or what brand of wheat toast he buys. Perhaps a little variety would do me good.” Gleefully, I open the door but what I saw shocked and confused me to the very core.
What I saw was nothing but brown boxes. An entire cupboard full of brown boxes. After having recovered from the shock, I grabbed one of the boxes and even though it was dark, I was able to discern the contents based on the size and the sound coming from inside. “Cereal boxes?” I glanced down and noticed a white label. “Nutritional facts?” I could not believe my eyes.
24 grams of carbohydrate? 12 grams of sugar? Very little protein. 171 milligrams of sodium? Sure, it’s low in saturated fat and cholesterol, but it hardly compares to my breakfast of oatmeal, wheat germ and grapefruit. The cereal was mostly empty calories.
Suddenly, the door to the garage opened. “I’m sorry, it took me a minute to find the light bulbs. Apparently they were behind some old paint cans and…” He drifted mid-sentence and I was caught red handed. “Um, what are you up to?”
“I’m in despair! The count who I just met and invited me to his house has caught me going through his cereal and is angry with me, which leaves me in despair!” I’m not sure why I responded that way.
“That was needlessly melodramatic,” was his response. “Besides, I don’t think anyone is going to get the reference.” His eyes darted to the cereal, and his mouth formed a sly grin. “So, you’ve found my cereal. Wonderful. Come here, my dear, let me pour you a bowl.” Before I could say anything, he led me to the kitchen table and sat me in one of his oak chairs. “Uh, just give me a minute to change the light bulb. I’ll just stand on one of these chairs, and, uh, actually, I know you just sat down, but could you help hold this chair for me as I go up? It’s an old chair. It’ll probably be okay, but since you’re here and just in case…” I was too rattled to protest and besides, it would have been rude to deny the host’s request.
“Thank you very much,” he said after finishing changing the light bulb and turning on the kitchen light. “There, much better. Please sit down, my dear, I’ll get you a bowl.”
I sat as he delivered a bowl and spoon to me. He opened the box that had been in there and and slowly begin to pour. In a sultry and seductive voice, he said, “I’m sure a woman like you has never experienced a taste like this.”
I was uncomfortable and nervous. “Um, I probably shouldn’t. I’m on a strict diet.”
“Nonsense, you’ll enjoy this, trust me. Let your inhibitions go.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a jug of white substance that looked like milk, but no milk I ever drank ever came in such a jug.
“I’ve never seen soy milk poured from a jug like that,” I said as he poured the liquid onto the cereal.
“Oh, my dear, this isn’t soy milk. This is the regular kind.”
“Regular milk? Like what, 1%?”
“It isn’t 1%, my dear.”
“No! 2% milk? That has so much fat!”
“Whole milk.” His words but a whisper, but they penetrated my very essence. It was as if I were hit by a hammer.
“Whole milk? I can’t eat this, think of the fat. I’m training for a fight. I-I just can’t!”
“Have you ever tried my dear?”
“Well, no, my parents were very strict about their diet and never let me eat any empty sugars, only the good kind.”
“Are you afraid you might enjoy it? Come, just take a bite. One bite is all I ask.” He smiled warmly and gazed into my eyes.
“Well, I suppose one bite wouldn’t hurt.” Slowly, I grabbed the spoon, and took a bite of the cereal. The feeling was practically orgasmic. The sensation went up my spine, which really isn’t surprising, because I believe all sensations go up the spine, but still, it was pretty great. I never tasted anything like this before. I would describe the sensation as fifty tastes and flavors. I’m not sure why I’d describe the taste as that, but I would.
“Well, do you like my cereal?” my mysterious friend asked.
“I…I want to eat your cereal!” I suddenly blurted out.
“Hey, that’s my slogan!”
“You see, I may be known as The Count, but my Christian name is Count Chocula!” He turned the box around so the front was facing towards me. I muttered the words “Count Chocula” that were written near the top of the box and observed a picture of Count Chocula pouring milk onto cereal.
“So you’re Count Chocula? Is this homemade cereal or something?”
“Not exactly. You see, I’m the spokesman of Count Chocula cereal, part of a balanced breakfast. I work for General Mills, but I’m a great believer in the product. I am not ashamed to admit, I truly love this cereal, perhaps even more than my love for excellent cable television.”
“I must admit, I love this cereal too. This taste sensation, it’s nothing like I’ve ever eaten! I want to finish the entire bowl.”
“Go ahead, my dear.”
“But, it’s so unhealthy.”
“I know, but that’s what makes it so good. Sure, it’s sinful, but so pleasurable, is it not?” Many thoughts were swimming through my head. I loved the cereal, I truly did, but I knew I shouldn’t eat the cereal, I shouldn’t finish the bowl. My entire life, I ate the right foods in order to get my body to operate at its full potential and maintain top fighting form. I shouldn’t form bad habits and start eating badly. But, only one bowl wouldn’t hurt. Just one bowl, and that’s it.
Admittedly, I’ve always been curious what it was to eat unhealthy foods, those thoughts were always hidden in the recesses of my brain. Those impure thoughts. What does a cookie taste like? Would I enjoy a donut? Is it really normal for a kid to get a cottage cheese filled avocado for her birthday rather than cake? Slowly, without a word, I began eating the rest of the bowl.
“Good, very good,” the Count said. “I’ll be back in a minute.” I hardly even noticed that he entered the garage as I was busy devouring the contents of the bowl. He returned with two objects in my hand as I was drinking the remaining milk. “Ah, finished already, wonderful. Let me set up these TV trays and I’ll pour you another bowl of cereal.”
“Another bowl? Really, I shouldn’t. Wait, TV trays? What are TV trays?”
“You never heard of TV trays?” The Count was incredulous. As he moved to the living room, he began manipulating the metal objects in front of his couch, “They’re just things you put in front of your couch so you can place objects such as bowls or other items on as you watch television.”
“Television? I didn’t have one growing up, and I really shouldn’t start watching it now. Really, I should go.”
“Please, just join me for a show. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Just grab your bowl and sit down next to me. I’ll pour you cereal. Look inside yourself. Don’t you want another bowl of Count Chocula cereal?”
I did. God help me, I did. Hesitantly, I grabbed my bowl and my spoon. With a heavy sigh, I moved towards the couch and sat down next to one of the trays.
“Wonderful, just wonderful. Indulge, Cheryl. Indulge.” He turned on the television. “Ah, the ‘King of Queens’! Wonderful, what a funny show. It’s about a fat guy who married a hot woman but the hot woman hates him because he’s fat and lazy! Truly a masterpiece.” I was fascinated by what I saw. The show was incredible! Every action, everything that I saw was incredibly mesmerizing. I didn’t even notice that The Count had already poured me another bowl of cereal and had poured a bowl for himself.
“Television is truly wonderful,” I said.
“Indeed it is. By the way, this couch reclines. Just allow me to move the trays and there we go. Press the button on the side of the couch.” I did as instructed and a stool like extension appeared beneath my seat, and I was able to sit back on the seat.
“Wow, I’ve never felt so comfortable.” I felt at peace. “This sensation is unlike any other, I’ve never felt so, so relaxed. What is this sensation? What do you call this?”
“It’s called ‘vegging out’,” he responded. “After a hard day at work, I find it most relaxing to ‘veg out’ in front of the TV. I’m sure you wonder why I went to your gym. Deep in my soul, I knew I found someone like you. Someone who has never experienced the joy of ‘vegging out’. I felt it was my duty to find that person and introduce her to a world she has never known. A truly wonderful world.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much for showing me this world. Thank you for allowing me to enter the world of ‘vegging out.’“ He smiled at me and we watched television the rest of the night, watching a wide variety of shows and movies, eating cereal as we watched. Eventually, it got late and we both fell asleep while watching a wonderful show.
We awoke late in the morning, and as I awoke I knew after experiencing this world, there was no going back. I quit going to the gym, quit my fighting career, and got a job with the Count at General Mills as a member of the marketing team. Every day after work, the Count and I would go to his house and “veg out” watching television and eating cereal. The gym is but a distant memory. That part of my life feels like it was lived by a completely different person. I never looked back, and I thank The Count for this new life.
If you enjoyed this story, then perhaps you’d be interested in reading more by pressing the “short story” tag below or clicking this(short story) link or this(genre and tags) link or this(story list) link. I would also urge you to share this story with others and comment below. Please check out my books page as well by pressing here. Thank you for reading my story.Follow: