Grow Your Own Girlfriend!

"Go out with YOU? Are you crazy? I wouldn't go out with you if you were the last creature -- and I do mean creature -- on the face of the Earth! Get a life, loser!" With that, Gloria Van Arsdale turned on her heel and strutted off. Harold watched as her pert blond ponytail and sweatpants-clad butt wiggled down the quad and out of his sight.

"So much for the old 'the worst she could say is no' theory," Harold thought dejectedly to himself, as he hung his head and made his way back to his grad-student office in the basement of the Physics Building.

Harold's buddy Deepak was waiting for him there. "Why the long face, dude?" Deepak asked.

"I'm lonely. And by lonely, I mean horny! I need a girlfriend," said Harold.

"And by girlfriend, you mean a blowjob," Deepak corrected him. "I feel your pain. I'm on a major league dry spell myself, dude."

Harold sat down and buried his face in his hands. "I'm striking out all over the place, Dee. I know I'm a geek, but aren't there women someplace who are into geeks? I'm sure I heard that there were, like on Jerry Springer or something. You know, some sort of geek freaks. There has to be!"

"I'm afraid not, my man. But, today is your lucky day. I learned something very interesting in my Alchemy class today."

"You're taking an Alchemy class? They teach that here at the University?" Harold was rather dubious. The University, where he and Deepak were enrolled, offered a wide variety of classes, but they tended to stick to reputable sciences and technologies.

"No, no, not here at the University. I'm taking it down at the community center."

Harold rolled his eyes. Deepak, with an undeclared major and a taste for the bizarre, was far more interested in alternative sciences than Harold the hard-nosed physics major could ever be.

"Dude, listen to this. Ancient alchemists used to make their own people. Their own people, man! We can make our own girlfriend, dude, how cool would that be? They're called Homunculi. We could make one, a chick, and it'll be our girlfriend!" Deepak crossed his arms and looked pleased with himself.

Harold rolled his eyes, but humored him. "Okay, and how do we make this Homunculi, then?"

"Homunculus. One of them is called a Homunculus. A bunch of them are Homunculi. Here's the recipe. I wrote it down." He scrounged in his backpack and pulled out some notes. "You start with fluid of sputum, egg white, dew, and some human blood and semen."

"Ewww."

"Shut up. Next, you mix it with arcanum of human blood and animal tincture...."

"Whatever the fuck those are."

"...and you seal them all in a jar. Then you bury it in a pile of horse manure, for five weeks, starting on the first full moon in March. At the end of the five weeks, voila, you have your little Homunculus. They're only about two feet high. Depending on the size of the jar, I imagine."

"You're crazy."

"Yeah, and you're horny. And so am I! I say we do it. What have we got to lose?"

"Our minds? Okay, okay. What the fuck. I'll try anything once."

Harold had no doubt that Deepak was crazy, and his scheme didn't have a chance in hell of working. But he was horny, and had no better ideas, so he decided to go along, if only for the amusement factor. Harold and Deepak made themselves a list and set about collecting the necessary ingredients for their homunculus. They decided that "fluid of sputum" was just ordinary spit, and could be supplied at the time of assembly. Egg white and dew were easy to acquire. Semen was not a problem; they each had more than enough saved up! But neither of them was particularly eager to open a vein for the necessary blood, and they had no idea what an arcanum was, either. Animal tincture, likewise, was problematic.

"Okay, Dee, I've got a question. How do we guarantee that it will be a chick? And how do we make sure that it will be horny? Or that it will even like us?"

"Well, maybe we should use female blood. And instead of animal tincture, we'll use some of our own hair and fingernail clippings. That way, it'll be in its genes to like us, so to speak."

"Female blood. Right. We can't even get a chick to give us her phone number, man. How are we gonna get one to hand us a pint of blood?"

"You just leave that to me. I'll meet you back here in the lab tomorrow after class, and we'll light this candle."

Harold spent a restless night in bed back at his apartment, fantasizing about the female homunculus that they were trying to create. Would she be pretty? Would she give good head? Would she have her own birth control? Oh, who was he kidding. This didn't have a chance in hell of working in the first place! He eventually drifted off to a fitful sleep. The next day, he did his best to concentrate in his classes, and met up with Deepak in the lab at 5 p.m.

Dee was there waiting for him, tossing a pint jar full of blood from hand to hand.

"What the fu... where did you get the blood?"

"I have my ways, dude," Deepak said. "One of my buddies works at the health service. I supply him with some weed now and then. I laid a bag of some nice Thai on him, and he snagged this for me. Am I good, or what?"

"I'm impressed. I'm glad to see that you are using your dope connections for good, instead of evil. How do you know it's female blood?"

"That's what I asked for. Let's hope Angel didn't fuck me over, or we might be limited to anal sex with our new little buddy!" Harold grimaced and hoped that Deepak was just joking.

They got a large jar out of one of the supply cabinets in the lab. They poured in the pint of blood, and then both spit in as much saliva as they could summon. Harold poured in the test tube of dew that he had collected that morning, and Deepak cracked in a raw egg, carefully separating the yolk. Next, they used a fingernail clipper to harvest some slivers from each of their hands, and scissors to snip samples of each of their hair. The mixture was starting to look quite disgusting.

"That's almost all of it, dude. One ingredient to go."

Harold looked at Deepak. "I know. The semen. Do you want to do it, or should I?"

"We want her to crave both of our cocks, dude. We should both contribute, I think."

There wasn't much choice, so they each dropped their pants and started pounding their puds. Harold wasn't completely happy about stroking his shaft in front of Deepak, but he did want the experiment to have every possible chance of success. He closed his eyes and pictured Gloria Van Arsdale and her bouncing pony tail. Only this time, it wasn't bouncing off into the distance; it was bouncing up and down in his lap, as her full, pouty lips slid up and down his shaft, and her cool white fingers squeezed his nut sack. He could almost smell her perfume as he kept his eyes screwed shut and his imagination working at full speed. He thought about her cute little tushie, her pert breasts, her slim waist, and that magnificent sexy mouth that was gobbling his member by proxy via his own spit-lubed fist. Finally, he felt his juices rise and knew it was time to come. He opened his eyes and aimed for the jar, and spewed an enormous, thick, white glob of man-milk. And another. And another! It just kept coming, until he'd deposited a thick layer of jism which completely covered the contents of the jar.

Deepak was in the process of blasting off as well, and also managed to produce a prodigious quantity of semen. Together, they must have raised the level in the jar by close to an inch. "Whoa, dude, we did good!" Deepak observed. "That's what you get when you go months without any sex." Then he took a glass stirring rod and carefully mixed up the nauseating concoction as he pulled up his trousers.

"Okay, one more, SECRET, ingredient," said Deepak. "It isn't in the official recipe, but I want to make sure our little honey is as horny as possible." He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small zip-lock bag. "Cantharides! Also known as Spanish Fly." He sprinkled it into the jar and gave it a few more stirs. Harold wondered if they had any legitimate classes at all at that community center.

"Now what?" asked Harold. "It isn't March, we don't have any horse shit, and I don't feel like waiting for five weeks. How are we going to incubate the little bastard?"

"Well, the recipe was from the middle ages. I'm sure we can hurry things up with modern technology. Don't you have any ovens in this lab of yours?"

"Sure, we have the curing ovens. Nobody will disturb these tonight." He hefted the sealed jar in his hand, squinted at the oven, and made a scientific wild-ass guess. "I'm gonna say 12 hours at 300 degrees F should be about equivalent to five weeks in a pile of warm horse dung. Does that sound good to you?"

"Sure, why not? You're the geek; I trust you." Deepak checked his watch. "That means we should meet back here at 7 a.m. to see what we've spawned. See you in the morning, dude."

Harold spent another restless night, but this time he dreamed. He dreamed of a two-foot high goddess, with long golden tresses, a face like an angel, and a voice like a crystal bell. She took him by the hand, and wafted him to the heavens, where they danced among the stars and held each other close. They kissed deeply, and gazed into each others' eyes and souls. He awoke with a smile on his face, before remembering the stupidity of their homunculus plan. "That idiot Deepak. There's no way we are going to find anything in that oven but a warm jar of bio-hazard!" Nevertheless, he pulled on his jeans and t-shirt and headed for the lab.

Harold and Deepak arrived at the same time, and went right to the curing oven. Harold spun the locking mechanism, opened the door, and reached in with a pair of insulated gloves. He pulled out the jar and set it on the lab bench. They both stared in disbelief.

Inside the jar was a small humanoid figure. It was cramped into a fetal position in the 18 inch jar, and they figured it would be slightly over two feet tall if stretched out. If it was human or not was subject to debate, but it was certainly humanoid. It had two perfectly formed legs, a graceful torso, and two arms with delicate but proportionally sized hands. It was apparently female, for it also had two breasts, perfectly proportioned to its torso.

The face was the most striking part of the creature. The facial features completely filled the front of the head, leaving no room for a forehead. The chin was weak, but the mouth was full with plump, red, moist-looking lips, and there was a delicate nose with flaring nostrils. The eyes were closed, but the lids indicated that it possessed large, widely-set, and slightly bulging eyes, located near the top of the face. If it was alive at all, it was unconscious.

Neither of the two spoke for long minutes. Finally, Deepak broke the silence. "Whoa.....," was all he could manage. Harold just nodded his agreement.

Eventually, they knew that it was time to set the creature free, if it was truly alive. Harold carefully unscrewed the lid, and poured the contents -- creature and encasing fluid -- out into a sink. It lay limply in the bottom. Harold and Deepak stared at each other, then at the creature, then back at each other, wondering what to do next.

Suddenly, the creature jumped to its feet with a bloodcurdling scream. "Aiyeeeee!" it shouted, in a powerful, high-pitched voice, and launched itself out of the sink and onto the floor of the lab. It began running this way and that, zigzagging among the lab benches and equipment, and bouncing off the walls that it occasionally encountered. Harold and Deepak scurried after it in a panic, not knowing what they would do if they managed to capture it. But after a few minutes of pursuit, it stopped short, in the middle of the floor. Harold and Deepak stopped as well, holding their breath. The creature looked at them, one after another, and back again. It seemed to make up its mind, and then it leapt through the air and thudded directly into Harold's midsection, knocking him to the ground.

Harold lay on his back, the animated creature straddling his pelvis, and wondered what would happen next. The creature planted its mouth on the lump in his trousers, and sucked for all that it was worth. Naturally, nothing much happened through the thickness of his denim jeans. But the creature was not long fooled. After a few moments, it grabbed for the waistband of Harold's trousers and tugged; buttons and zipper teeth went flying! In moments, Harold's boxers lay bare, and in a few seconds more, the creature had likewise shredded those. His dick was naked to the air, inches from the delicate mouth of the artificial creature! Harold stared in disbelief, barely daring to breathe.

What happened next was inevitable: the creature plunged its mouth onto Harold's stiffening cock, and inhaled it deeply into its throat. What it lacked in technique it made up for in enthusiasm: the moist sucking action of its mouth pulled Harold's pud down deep into its throat; the suction brought his manhood instantly to life. There was no tenderness, no love, no sense of relationship; just an intense urgent need to suck the essence out of Harold's cock. Harold, of course, was familiar with the need for pure carnal release, and lay back on the floor, letting the creature have its way with his rapidly hardening organ. The creature sucked and sucked, slurping his bone deep into its mouth, and applying a peristaltic motion on his shaft that soon had the juices rising in his loins. Harold felt his balls swell and his prostate spasm; he felt the jism enter the chamber of his love launcher; he felt the sucking on his cock prepare him to ejaculate a monster load. As the unholy creature sucked harder and harder on his cockhead, he knew that the time had come, and his hips began to buck. He spurted a long thick rope of semen into the gobbling mouth of the strange little creature, which hungrily swallowed every drop. It continued to suck and gobble, extracting every possible drop of Harold's spooge. When Harold was completely dry, if finally lifted its head from his lap, and looked around. Harold was glad to have his balls drained so completely, of course, but didn't feel much better than if he had whacked himself off.

"Ayeeee!" the creature cried, and began running around the lab once more.

"Whoa, that was cool!" said Deepak from across the room, and instantly regretted it. The homunculus turned its large glistening eyes on Dee, and launched itself at him before he could duck or defend himself. It bowled him over onto his back on the floor, and ripped his trousers off, just as it had done to Harold only moments before. Deepak's trousers soon lost their buttons and zipper teeth, and he lay naked to the ministrations of the creature. It then applied its sucking mouth to Deepack's pud in a virtual rerun of its assault on Harold.

Harold, still sitting on the floor and gasping for breath, watched the creature as it sucked and slurped a gigantic load of jism out of Deepak's cock, happy that his own ordeal was over. Getting sucked off was nice, of course, but the abruptness was a lot more than he had expected! And a kiss or two would have been appreciated. He watched as the little golem hungrily tugged on Deepak's root with its mouth, acting out of pure instinct, needing another load of spunk and thinking of nothing else.

"Dee, I hope you're enjoying it!" Harold laughed, thinking that he, having given the creature all of his deadly sperm buildup, was out of the woods. He watched as the tiny creature, with the disproportionate face and delicate limbs, devoured Deepak's cock. Before long, Deepak was shouting out in orgasm, and his thrusting hips pumped round after round of sperm into the horny little homunculus.

As Deepak stopped thrusting and lay still, the creature again got to its feet and glanced around the lab. It looked once more at Harold.

"What? No, not again!" he yelled in horror. "You've already got all I have to give!" He held out his palms in protest. But the creature was ready for round two, even if Harold was not, and was soon all over him once more, sucking and tugging on Harold's tortured tool.

"No, no!! Stop it!" Harold cried, trying to pull the determined creature off of his crotch. But he could not disengage it from his cock. He felt the sucking, the pulling, the slurping. His tender dick was still hyper-sensitive from the first round, but he couldn't stop it all from happening yet again. Eventually, he felt his juices once more rising, and his hips bucked. Another blast of jism erupted from his loins, and was quickly swallowed by the horny creature.

Deepak was already looking around the room for a weapon. He grabbed a glass stir rod, the closest thing he could find, and brandished it as the creature plunged toward him. The homunculus lunged and bashed the stir rod aside, and soon had its face once more buried in Dee's crotch. Dee gave up to the inevitable, and let it suck out a second, much smaller load from his gonads.

Meanwhile, Harold was just recovering from his ordeal. He glanced up to see the creature again running toward him, its obscene red lips open wide to swallow his cock once again. "Dee! Do something!" he shouted, before being tackled once more.

Deepak did something indeed. He bolted for the exit while the creature was otherwise engaged. "I'll be back as soon as I can, dude!" he yelled. "I'm going to find help!" And with that, he was gone.

"Noooo! You bastard!!" shouted Harold, before he lost consciousness, feeling for all the world as if his dick was being pulled through a knothole in a picket fence.

For the next half hour, Harold found himself drifting in and out of consciousness. Every time he woke up, he saw the homunculus straddling his pelvis and licking its lips. It would rest for a moment or two, and then plunge down onto his cock once more. Mercifully, at this point in the cycle, Harold would generally pass out. He had no idea how many times the ordeal was repeated. He prayed for a merciful stroke or heart attack to end his suffering, and of course for eternal damnation for that bastard Deepak.

Finally, Harold awoke to shouts. Human, male shouts. Deepak was back, along with two others. Harold didn't know them. They were both tall and muscular, and wore rugby shirts. They were manhandling the homunculus into a burlap sack, which they then secured with a chain.

One of the two turned to Deepak. "Thanks, dude! You're the best. We'll get you the rest of your money by tomorrow, okay?"

"No problem, guys. Tomorrow is fine. But don't screw me, or I'm gonna want her back!"

"Oh, we won't fuck with you, dude! You'll get it, every penny." And with that, the pair was out the door, carrying the squirming sack between them.

Harold tried struggling to his feet, thought better of it, and lay back again on the floor. At least he could manage to zip up what was left of his trousers. "Okay, Dee," he said. "Not that I'm ungrateful that the little hellion is gone and all, but what the hell just happened?"

Deepak looked smug. "Just the greatest idea I ever had, Dude, that's all." He made a few preening gestures, adjusting his collar and tugging down his sleeves. "When I left here..."

"You mean, when you abandoned me to my near-death."

"...I called up some fraternity brothers of mine. They have a house of fifty or so guys. All horny as hell. I asked them what they would pay for a nymphomaniac who would keep them in blowjobs round the clock. They offered me a hundred bucks."

"Brilliant!" said Harold. "So she's gone, and we have fifty bucks each!"

"Not exactly," said Deepak. "I turned down their offer. A hundred bucks? For a treasure like our little cum-gobbling golem? I just laughed at them."

"What? I'm laying here on the ground, getting my internal organs hoovered out of my body, and you're negotiating? Why I out to kill you...."