Bagged by the Groceries! by Fannie Tucker
man, it has been way too long since i have read monsterporn. this book reminded me how much fun it is to roll around in the bizarre and filthy world of monsterotica, so a huge thank-you to Sh3lly the Dorky DNFer ✨ Bring on the Weird ✨ and her band of machalo pervos for letting me revisit this extraordinary brand of joy once more.
this is written by one of my favorite monster-smut authors. i think this is my 6th or 7th fannie tucker story, and she always delivers the freaky goods. any hack can write vampire porn or even ogre porn, but it tales a true master to write grocery porn.
if you’re wondering what grocery porn is, please, take my hand.
ashley dubois is just a regular woman married to a successful lawyer. she lives in new orleans in a gorgeous condo, embracing the pampered lifestyle of a trophy housewife – unencumbered by a career or children and free to spend her time making elaborate meals for her breadwinner-husband, whose job provides her with all the finer things in life, but leaves her alone too frequently, a little restless and unravished.
tonight is their anniversary, and ashley is planning to make blake’s favorite meal, so she takes a trip to the local piggly wiggly and buys nine bags of groceries. on the way back to her car, sweating in the heat and distracted by an incoming text from dear hubby (who seems to have forgotten their anniversary) informing her he will once again be working late, she bumps into an old woman with her cart. she is mortified, and tries to offer assistance, but is quickly repelled by the stench of the woman, and her disheveled appearance. the woman demands some of ashley’s groceries, but ashley refuses, and scurries off as the woman crows after her:
“You want them groceries? That’s jes’ fine, girl. You gonna get them groceries!”
ashley goes home to nurse her disappointment and unease with some wine. she’s enjoying the view from her second-story balcony when she hears a noise in the kitchen behind her. startled, she rushes back inside to find her grocery bags tipped over, canned goods scattered, most of the food either missing or tampered with: Creamy white droplets dribbled from an empty carton of yogurt.
she freaks out at the thought of an intruder in her house, despite the deadbolted door, grabs a butcher knife from the kitchen and runs to her bedroom, where blake’s gun is kept. when she is suitably armed, she turns to see the shape of the intruder in the doorway, and points the gun at him, before realizing this is no ordinary intruder.
It was… the groceries
you see, all the missing food has fashioned itself into a six-foot-tall, man-shaped creature with a chest of ground beef, eggplant biceps, and most importantly – a big old cucumber cock.
that would be scary enough, but for me, this is the true horror. from its iceberg lettuce-head, it gazed at her with black olive eyes that somehow conveyed a disturbing intelligence.
yuk, olives. don’t look at me, olives. you are gross.
naturally, ashley is confused by this spectacle and makes her inquiries of the creature, asking “What are you?”
turns out, this grocery-man is none other than a manifestation of zaka – haitian demigod of fertility and the harvest, and these are the kinds of consequences you face in voodoo-riddled new orleans when you bump into an old lady and then refuse to give her any tasty compensation.
but what does this creature want with her?
something about fertile soil and seeds… some light gardening perhaps? like in tucker’s other story Garden Gnome Gangbang
or – oh, wait, what is he doing with those baby carrot-fingers?? oh no!! that ain’t right!
He brought his fingers up, and she saw her own glistening juices on the orange carrot knuckles as his ham-tongue flickered out to taste them.
nothing more erotic than a ham-tongue.
but ashley is powerless to resist, and frankly, she’s pretty turned on by the whole thing, ham tongue and all. and suddenly she’s kneeling in front of this grocery-monster, enjoying a cucumber in an unanticipated manner.
To think I was going to put this in a salad.
zaka is pleased with these ministrations.
“Suckle my fruits, woman,” Zaka commanded. “Taste me.”
now, here it must be noted that the testicles of this creature were made of nectarines in her first description, but have now become plums. which she suckles accordingly, although perhaps not skillfully, as she describes suckling the smooth, tight skin until she tasted the sweet juices.
too hard, ashley! you’re not siphoning gas here!
but zaka doesn’t shriek in pain, so i guess demigods like it rough.
and ashley’s ready for more:
At that moment, she didn’t care if his cock was a cucumber or a zucchini or a fucking watermelon, she wanted it inside her.
i understand how sometimes the heat of the moment overtakes a lady and those endorphins roaring through a body can make someone feel invincible, but come on, ashley – a watermelon is not a suitable sexual partner. for a woman, anyway. it’s fine for a man, as cormac mccarthy has shown us, but for you, not so much.
it’s one of those things you think will be sexy at the time, but it’s really really not.
although ashley does play rough, as evidenced in her forceful plum-suction and in this additional scene of furious produce-lovemaking:
Her back arched as she clenched his butt in her fingers, her nails digging into the cantaloupe’s rough skin until sticky juice dribbled out.
jeez, ashley, control yourself!
but she’s in a carnal tizzy, uttering the bedroom commands of one too lust-blind to see the humor in her utterances:
“Come on, baby,” she pleaded. “Gimme them groceries! Gimme them fucking groceries!”
and the groceries are indeed given. in a variety of ways, and positions, just as that crone in the parking lot had predicted:
“You want them groceries? That’s jes’ fine, girl. You gonna get them groceries!”
and it’s all fine and dandy until this one part. now, i have read a lot of monsterporn and NEVER once have i said “ew” out loud. until now:
Inside her, Zaka’s cucumber cock swelled like a ripe seedpod ready to burst, and she felt something erupt from its tip in thick, warm gouts. A vague image played across her mind: an empty yogurt container lying on its side in the kitchen. Now she knew where the yogurt had gone.
oh, ew. fucking ew. that is a bridge too far. no dairy in the lady garden, please.
but i will allow one pun, even though it’s something of a metaphor-salad. (and yes, i see what i did there)
The thick, hard vegetable inside her pulsated as he emptied the fruit of his loins into her womb.
vegetables shooting out fruits?? what a cuntry!
it ends with an unexpected twist, giving some insight into blake and the weird things that turn him on, which can be interpreted as either the aftermath of a tantrum or a woman’s complete psychotic break.
whatever the case, i shudder to think about what it’s like to experience a grocery monster’s sloppy seconds.
“Shut up, Ashley Dubois. I need to make love to you.”
i sure hope he likes yogurt.
and am i the only one trying to figure out what blake’s favorite meal is? because these are all the items mentioned in the story:
canned goods, meat, bread, produce, yogurt, fruits, vegetables, grains, flour, ground beef, eggplant ears of corn, oranges, baby carrots, iceberg lettuce, olives, nectarines/plums, russet potatoes, butternut squash, ham, cantaloupe
and unless blake is a stoner or a goat, i’m finding it hard to meld those ingredients into a satisfying meal. especially now that they’ve been where they’ve been.
regardless, a wonderful ‘welcome back to monsterporn’read for me, and the exclamation point in the tittle is KILLING me with delightedness.
thank you again, machalos, for taking me under your sleazy wing!
