Jean's house has termites.
They are, as it happens, very polite termites. They stay scrupulously away from load-bearing beams, so that he never has to worry about his roof collapsing onto his head. He does have to replace the non-load-bearing walls occasionally -- and the porch railing, and the interior doors, and the kitchen table -- but they stay away from the bookshelves, so overall he counts it as a win.
The bedbugs are polite enough not to bite. Jean is pretty sure this should not be physiologically possible, but he's learned better than to ask too many questions. The mosquitoes do bite, but they don't bite him, and they're careful about only biting one animal so they don't spread disease.
He didn't have silverfish until he designated a bookshelf to devote entirely to a collection of really, truly terrible books. It features Fifty Shades of Gray and To Train Up A Child and Dianetics and tie-in novels for various franchises. Now he does have silverfish, but only in the one bookshelf, so that's okay.
His favorites are the bees. (The spiders are his sister's favorite, but she doesn't mind that he likes the bees best. Bees are good too.) He has hives and hives of them, and none of them ever sting him, which is good, because if they did they would die and that would be awful. They make more honey than they need, so every so often he gets to go open up one of the hives (he warns them first, politely, so none get squashed by accident) and fish out jars and jars full of honey. He has a pantry full of it, all different colors, shades of gold and brown and pale and even auburn. Sometimes he shares it with the bugs.
The bees need flowers, of course, but he has forty acres all to himself, and when the grasshoppers know to stay away and the worms know to come and thrive, that can grow a lot of plants. He gets monarch butterflies every fall when they migrate, and he stands outside counting them and crying. He doesn't love them quite as much as he loves the bees, but he still loves them, and there's fewer every year.
They miss him, when he's gone, traveling to act or to attend conferences or to do other things, and he misses them. There's bugs everywhere, but his house has so many, and such good ones. His sister sends him all sorts of strange and foreign creatures: dung beetles with carapaces that shine like jewels, long-legged spiders that weave him clothes of strange fabric, African termites that build clay statues at his command.
They're letting him be, right now, so he can focus on his work, but he can still see them moving out of the corner of his eye, and it makes him smile: small winged things darting irregular paths through the air, or heavier bugs scuttling across the floor, going about their business. He never has to be alone.
Jean clicks out of the ninth article on bee depopulation and squints at the screen, tired-eyed. increasing bee population, he googles.
Ten minutes later, after working through a fruitless page of results: getting bees to breed more
After another ten minutes: bee mating
bee sex
what do bees think is sexy
how to seduce a bee
The first link on the seventh page of the "how to seduce a bee" Google search is fairly dire, though the link looked promising.
Bee Mechanics of Seduction
Queen virgin flies to where thousands of bees are waiting and is with some of the flying men in flight. A male drone puts the queen, ejacates semen and inserts a rash in the intestines. After ejaculation, the bull is pulled away from the queen, but the endoderm is cut from the body and remains attached to the newly fertilized queen. The next stick with the Queen removes the previous endoderm and eventually is lost after ejaculation.
The next male bee with the Queen will remove the previous endophallus and then lose themselves after ejaculate. Male bees can only kill 7 to 10 times during a mature flight, and after death, dron quickly dies while opening his abdomen. Even the troops that survived the death flight will be expelled from the nest because they will kill themselves to achieve their goals.
[READ MORE...]
Tags:beeswax, bees knees, beestar, beeswax wrap, beeswax candles, bees knees cocktail, bees and blooms, beesechurger, bees knees drink, bees and honey, beeswax for hair, beeswax food wrap, bees nest, bees for sale, beeswax pellets, bees in the ground, bees vs wasps, beeswax crunch, beez in the trap, [63 more...]
3 COMMENTS
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deathflight23 [12/31/17 02:04]
IF YOU'RE A PUSSY DON'T WATCH THIS!!!:
There's an embedded video in the last comment. The thumbnail shows a young man, thoroughly pierced with half his head shaved, holding a squirming tarantula hawk between his fingertips.
The video plays.
"–so, I don't normally do bugs."
The insect squirms and thrashes, but his grip isn't actually tight enough to damage it.
"But I got this in the mail – and, uh, side note, don't rig things to blow on me right when you send them? If I hadn't caught this you wouldn't have gotten a video, you know? Anyway, it's supposed to have one of the most painful stings in the world."
It's hard to tell whether the waver in his voice is excitement or fear. His eyes flicker from the bug to the camera.
"When I get a tribute from a fan, though...I've gotta follow through, right? For you."
He pauses.
"The note said choke on it. Wanna see me try?"
He lets go. The wasp flies off out of view.
After a second of choking he starts to scream, clutching his face, slumping back against the wall behind him and shaking in waves.
The camera is far back enough that it's not difficult to see how hard he is.
After a few minutes, when there's swelling visible over the top of his hand, the video ends abruptly.
The embedded video redirects him to zlovesyou.red.
It's an oddly bare site, an all black page with index and contact links in red at the bottom. Most of it is taken up by the video player.
In the thumbnail to this one, he's frozen adjusting the camera, with no sign of what's going to be happening afterwards.
He pulls back from the camera. He's shirtless, this time.
"143 donors. You know I fucking love you all, right?"
The camera pulls back a little. Make that 'in his underwear'.
"You all know the rules if you're in the chat, but for everybody else – cuts at least six inches, quarter of an inch deep. Call me out if I miss one. I wanna give you all your money's worth."
He picks up a box cutter from the bed next to him and sets it against his thigh.
"Okay. Here's number one..."
Every one makes him sigh, or shudder, or moan.
They start to run off his thighs, up onto his abdomen and his chest and his arms, criss-crossing, yawning open and pouring blood down onto the sheets.
By the time it's done – 143 cuts in all – he's a slick mess of blood, skin shredded, lips blue.
The oldest video is the same man – a boy in this one, really. He looks about 17, and in the thumbnail his face is completely unadorned.
Over the course of the video, he pierces himself carefully and methodically through the lip, the eyebrow, many times through the ears. He doesn't say a word, and barely makes a sound.
[21:45] wastingdjinni: okay thanks. can't believe new meat is better at this than you guys
[21:46] chimeraglo: Z doesn't stage videos.
[21:46] chimeraglo: And it's against the rules to post stages here
[21:46] chimeraglo: It's disrespectful
[21:46] foggy: lol get your head out of his asshole
[21:47] kira_kira: i wish
[21:47] kira_kira: i'm only still in this place because i'm waiting for him to fucking die
[21:47] kira_kira: it'll be amazing
[21:48] deadleaf: NO ;_; that would be so sad don't say that
[21:48] lemontired: real life doesn't work like that dos
[21:48] lemontired: z's never going to die
[21:49] kira_kira: have you seen his face
[21:49] kira_kira: or heard him speak like ever
[21:49] lemontired: stop being a hatefag
[21:50] deadleaf: i think he's beautiful :(
[21:50] foggy: we already know you want his face in your guts
[21:50] chair: I apologize for everyone else in this chat.
[21:51] chimeraglo: "Just" :/
[21:51] kira_kira: yeah he's just an attention whore with a knife
[21:52] lemontired: i can't believe you just used the word oeuvre unironically
[21:52] deadleaf: um have you ever seen ASMR videos? i think it's like that but for your soul
[21:52] chair: Does a painting need a backstory?
[21:53] wastingdjinni: maybe i just won't take the bone out if you're all just going to ignore me
There’s an itch.
It’s just the barest hint of one, in the back of his mind, like a mosquito bite that hasn’t yet blossomed into a welt, like the absence of your wallet in your back pocket, a faint nudging of his thoughts in the right direction.
Right now, it’s easy to miss.
Memories of sensation are slippery. They're not quite accurate. You can't ever perfectly recall a taste, or a smell. You slide off it, never touch the heart of it until you feel it again.
It's hard not to think about what he saw in those videos. It's natural, somehow, to slip back to remembering it.
It’s another cutting video.
This one seems more intimate, somehow. Maybe it’s because he’s not trying to monologue.
He carves long, deep vertical slashes down his torso and legs, digging the blade of the folding knife so deep it’s surprising he never hits a major artery or opens his body cavity. He whimpers and moans through the whole video, with the occasional “fuck” when the blade scratches bone or catches on something.
He’s drenched in his own blood, painted bright red and shaking hard, when the page refreshes automatically and the next video starts to load.
There’s a sense of loss, when he shuts his computer, of unfulfilled hunger, something necessary being taken away.
Not all of it goes away. His blood is still hot under his skin, full in his veins. His pulse feels like it shivers his whole body.
The images of Z’s open body linger, an afterimage on his mind’s eye.
(This is a new type of beautiful. It's a kind Jean didn't understand before. But he must be starting to understand, now.)
in his dreams he slits his own wrists and it feels like a song
his blood spills out over his lap and soaks his clothes and pools glowing with color on the floor
he kneels in front of him and drinks from one wound, cheeks and lips and chin stained and dripping, and then bares his own wounds and invites him in
He wakes up, chilled to the bone in his sweat and crawling with ants.
He gropes for his computer, squints painfully against the brilliance of the light.
What was that email again...?
from: clover.anytime@shininghour.com
to: body@zlovesyou.red
subject: who are you
do you actually answer emails
He knows better than to ask what are you.
The landing page contains a countdown to the next stream and a history/favorites section and an embedded IRC client (set to log him in as secondsting, not currently connected) and a random video counting down to play and the number of referrals Jean currently has (zero) and some navigational bits and pieces.
Of course not. People are blind and deaf and mute and senseless. They can't hear a bat singing, can't feel the breeze of a bee winging its way through the air or the drumbeat of its feet as it dances, can't taste the footsteps of an ant or smell the trail of a moth, can't see the way light combs through the air -- beauty isn't for humans.
When he's back home, he logs into the chatroom again.
[13:58] padparadscha: tributes is a stupid thing to call them and i don't know why anybody does it
[13:58] padparadscha: it makes it sound like you're in a cult or something
[13:59] kira_kira: you are all in a cult
[13:59] kira_kira: you cut yourselves and film it and post it on the internet because something something z
[14:01] deadleaf: omg
[14:01] draculet: jsdklfhdsjkhgfjk
[14:01] lemontired: OUR NEW KING
[14:01] foggy: lmaoooooo
[14:01] palais: holy shit
[14:01] lemontired: THE MAN THE LEGEND
[14:01] padparadscha: okay that was pretty good
[14:01] deadleaf: doot doot doot doot doot doot doot!
[14:01] foggy: owned
[14:01] gobago: i'm sending a refer
In the picture, Z is sprawled on a bed, leaned back against the wall. The sheets are stained with blood, and there’s a scalpel and a coil of bloody wire abandoned on the bed next to him.
One of his arms is flayed from halfway above the elbow, like a gory opera glove. He’s trailing his skinned hand down his chest, leaving a glistening trail of blood behind.
He doesn't try to monologue in this one.
In the beginning of the video, he cleans the skin of his arm, his palm and the back of his hand and between his fingers. He's meticulous about it.
When it's done to his satisfaction, he moves the camera with his other hand, crawls onto the bed, picks up his scalpel.
He slices careful lines down his arm, over his fingertips and palm, around his wrist, separating everything into neat sections, gasping softly.
Blood is already dripping off his fingers when he starts to cut away skin.
He gets louder and louder the more he cuts and peels away. When he gets to the tricky sections between his fingers, he picks up the razor wire and wraps it around his other fingers, pays no mind to the way the wire cuts into them as he slides it under the skin.
He has to stop to catch his breath, whimper and muffle the noise, by the time all the muscle is bare.
He halfway sobs when he takes his cock in his bloodied hand and starts to stroke himself with it, shudders like he's freezing to death. He can't support himself upright at all, anymore, and he slumps back against the wall.
He can't keep his eyes open, not the whole time, but when he manages to lift them he looks right into the camera, supplicant and idol at once.
When he comes, covered in blood and sweat, eyes dripping but not quite like someone who's crying, his whole body shakes.
The video ends with him kissing his own palm.
The chat is buzzing, discussing the video. Foggy praises the explicit content, specifies some details of exactly how he enjoyed it and gets in a brief fight with chimeraglo about whether said details are appropriate feedback. Kira returns to inform everyone he hopes Z's arm rots off. Deadleaf gushes about how beautiful it is under Z's skin and how seen they felt. Palais says they're going to take some skin off and post it as a tribute.
[21:37] lollicabra: ok jeeze dude
[21:37] foggy: what is being a drone though
[21:38] deadleaf: he's beautiful on the inside and the outside
[21:38] deadleaf: and not just um that way u//_//u
[21:38] kira_kira: hooooly fuuuuuck
[21:38] kira_kira: why do you all like this garbage
[21:38] chair: Beauty is more than appearances
[21:39] padparadscha: this is kind of...creepy, guys.
[21:39] secondsting: Deadleaf gets it.
[21:39] secondsting: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drone_(bee)
[21:57] wastingdjinni: no that's not what i meant
[21:57] wastingdjinni: you have an EMOJI and i bet you haven't even cut for him
[21:58] lemontired: dude, he gets to pick who he wants to talk to
[21:58] wastingdjinni: I LOST HALF MY FINGER and he doesn't talk to me
[21:58] foggy: lol we all saw you talking about how hot that was yesterday
[22:08] wastingdjinni: http://pic.ly/vd/89a301/
(It's an amateur effort, taken with a cellphone camera, one shaking, freckled hand cutting into a pinky finger, sounds of pain and lust. It's a little beautiful, because of what it is, even more because of who it's for, but other than that...)
An awful lot of videos on particular sharing sites are tagged with zlovesyou and zlovesyou.red and tribute. Some of them are from familiar names.
wastingdjinni is, as far as his channel is concerned, mostly a pair of hands and a red-freckled body. He's very prolific. It's all cellphone video of cuts and burns, getting progressively worse as the time goes on. In that most recent video, there's a leftover blister on his hand that hadn't fully healed. "Please watch."
lollixcabra is a compact latina with a fluorescent undercut, filming shaky handheld camera footage. She jumps from a rooftop and lands hard on one leg, films the unnatural jut of the bone from skin – "this is for you" – the next video is her jarring the break against a doorframe until she screams.
chimeraglo, an unremarkable brunet, has a script for the beginning of each video – "This is an offering. I give it freely and expect nothing back." and so on. He spills blood into a bowl and drinks it, strangles himself to unconsciousness.
deadleaf is pale and beauty-marked, with a round, sweet face. They cut, mostly, nude and blushing, trying their best to look into the camera, and talk about how good it is and how beautiful it makes them feel and how happy he makes them. "Thank you for loving us." "I was so sad before I found you."
There are thousands more.
from: body@zlovesyou.red
to: clover.anytime@shininghour.com
subject: re: TRIBUTE
tribute
noun
trib·ute | \ ˈtri-(ˌ)byüt , -byət\
Definition of tribute
1a: something given or contributed voluntarily as due or deserved especially : a gift or service showing respect, gratitude, or affection
from: body@zlovesyou.red
to: clover.anytime@shininghour.com
subject: re: TRIBUTE (don't need to break yourself)
get one good clip? see how it feels
you're like a bug͠ bu͟zzin̨g̀ ̢a̧r̕o͜und̶ ̢in ́th̕ere but you've got the right ¿frequencies?
i bet you'll ¿know it when you see it?
He thinks about it.
He finds himself driving into town, buying a camera and tripod and lights and reflectors and diffusers.
It's a couple of days' work, learning how to do it right, how to set everything up, taking test videos of nothing in particular. But he's going to do it right.
Afterwards, he logs back into the chatroom.
The setting is inside some kind of rustic building: authentically rough-cut red brick floor, smooth white plaster walls. Jean is sitting cross-legged, his whole body in view, softly illuminated by a warm light that avoids casting anything into shadow. He's naked, but unselfconsciously so, like a child or an animal might be naked.
He's holding a glass, with a little water and the last melting remnants of some ice in it. The video appears to have caught him in the middle of drinking it, relaxed, paying no attention at all to the camera.
He tips the glass up, drinking the last of the water; the film catches the way the condensation glistens on the sides. The last of the ice lingers on his lips for a moment, melting there, before slipping into his mouth to be swallowed.
When he takes a bite out of the glass, it's with so much of the same casual relaxation that it's almost impossible to notice, for a moment, what he's doing. The glass on his lips looks just like the ice, until his lips begin to bleed.
He chews the glass slowly, meditative, like someone absentmindedly crunching ice on a hot summer day. Blood runs down the corners of his mouth; he opens his mouth to show the shards on his tongue, draws them out with his fingers, paints the blood down his neck and collarbone in streaks.
Another bite. His eyes are closed; he's attending to the sensation, fascinated. He sucks on the fragments of glass, shivers, lets them fall into his lap in a bloody rain.
He makes his fingers bleed, breaking off a larger shard; holds it to his lips, licks and caresses it, somehow more sensual than sexual. He's almost infantile, wide-eyed, exploring the world with his mouth, feeling out the different shapes and textures as blood drips down his chin.
The video is almost half an hour long; the only noise is the soft crunching and tinkling of glass. He never speaks, never looks at the camera; it's not until the last few minutes that he begins to be, visibly, slightly aroused, and he never reacts to that at all.
[20:50] foggy: what
[20:51] deadleaf: wowww o///o
[20:52] deadleaf: this is really good
[20:53] lollicabra: this is the weird shit
[20:53] pikograf: what the fuck is this chat. who are you people
[20:54] palais: you’ve got such a first-timer face, it’s cute. how’d you do the lighting
[20:55] foggy: okay but
[20:56] foggy: crunch crunch
The link leads to what looks to be webcam footage.
Z is sitting in a battered desk chair, leaned forward with an elbow on the desk, in a room just cluttered enough to look like someone lives there – covers pulled down on the bed, door slightly ajar, yesterday's clothes tossed on the floor. There's the occasional noise of a click, not much else, for the first ten seconds.
It plays on.
Z watches raptly, fingers flitting over his neck and collarbone, back up to his face.
He starts to bite at his lip – gently, at first, but then harder, enough to leave marks, little indents from his canines that linger.
He looks yearning, wanting, worshipful, hungry.
[21:39] z: https://pic.ly/pc/20847471
It’s a picture from just below the eyes — his lip is shredded, actually slashed in one or two places, and he’s sticking out his bloodied tongue to show the deep bite mark at the end. The one hand onscreen is holding a stained knife.
[21:52] deadleaf: um so you clicked a link to make your account right? that was a referral
[21:52] deadleaf: you need an account to get into the livestreams and stuff
[21:52] deadleaf: and every link only works once
[21:52] deadleaf: you get new ones sometimes but you can give them to other people
[21:53] gobago: people use it like reddit gold kinda
pikograf logs off shortly after that.
Another wave of late-night users arrives, with a fresh batch of compliments and links and insults and gory imagery. Apparently this is when traffic really starts to pick up.
Some are unconditionally adoring, fascinated, lustful. A few are skeptical or frightened or put on airs of boredom and edgier-than-thou jadedness. Some, much like kira, seem to hate Z passionately.
Kira doesn’t hate Z. Kira adores Z. He understands, now.
He doesn’t understand the bored ones. How can anyone be bored by beauty?
He joins in the paeans and watches the videos and offers helpful advice and, eventually, falls asleep where he is, lit softly by the gory scene on his monitor, bugs crawling affectionately over his face.
[9:22] z: what, you break into my house and fill it with bees and it's a surprise party
[9:22] deadleaf: https://imgfly.io/images/29034fh
[9:23] z: oh my god its little pouches







































