“Five teaspoons each of: water, salt, sulfur powder, iron, and lime. There, my preparations for the ritual are complete.” Monica laid out her five ingredients on each point of the bloody pentagram drawn on the floor.

            “Okay, but by 'lime,' I'm pretty sure this book means the rock and not store-bought lime juice. And there isn't any iron in ground up pencil lead,” Gina pointed out as she skimmed the recipe. “What's with the sugar? That's not a listed ingredient.” The woman holding a decrepit, leather-bound book pointed to the small pile of sugar formed in the pentagram's center.

            “To make him extra sweet, duh. I'm trying to summon the perfect boyfriend here.” The two women were sitting between their beds in their dormitory, the pentagram sprawled out on a piece of cardboard resting on their carpeted floor.

            “You realize this is a necromancy tome, right? It's for resurrecting dead people, not for finding hook ups.” Gina brushed her brunette bangs from her eyes. She was wearing a bright orange sweater and thick, black frame glasses. She had a red skirt on earlier, but exchanged it for sweatpants after five too many “Velma” jokes from Monica.

            “It said that the first person I bring back from the dead will be eternally bound to my soul as my familiar. If that's not true love, I don't know what is.” Monica wiped the sugar crystals stuck to her fingers onto her black camisole. The only thing else she wore, aside from the metal piercings dotting her nose and brow, were a pair of purple panties. Brilliant blue streaks ran through her otherwise pitch black hair, and just like her nails, her lips were painted dark as midnight.

            “Where'd you even find this thing?” Vel-, I mean, Gina asked.

            “The clearance section at the bookstore.”

            Gina dragged her finger through one of the pentagram's lines and brought it to her mouth. “Really? Ketchup?”

            “Don't smear it! You're gonna fuck up my transmutation.” Monica pulled another ketchup packet out from under her bed and repaired the damage.

            “So, what are you going to do if your undead boyfriend ends up being an asshole? Like, a slave owner or something.” Gina set the necronomicon down so she could light some candles scattered throughout the room. After the proper ambience was set up, she flicked off the lights.

            “I told you. That's what the sugar is for.” Monica picked up the book and refamiliarized herself with the incantation; she almost set the tome alight while holding it up to the burning wick. “Alright, ready when you are.”

            “Fire away, lich queen.” 

            Monica held her hands over the pentagram, rolling her fingers in a manic display. “Morir es vivir. Morir es vivir. Morir es vivir,” she chanted. Gina stared intently as green and purple plasma crackled out of Monica's fingertips. She was under the impression the book was a phony, a cheap read for goth kids to gush over. Tonight was supposed to be a silly diversion; Gina never expected to see real magic. 

            As Monica performed the rite, smoke emanated from the six ingredients, joining the candle's trails into a big, billowing cloud. “Morir es vivir. Morir es vivir. Morir es vivir.” With Monica's eyes clamped shut, it was hard to tell if she realized her spell was working. The smoke twisted itself into a cylindrical shape, the plasma from Monica's hands joining the cloud in a hellish mixture. And then, with a sudden whoosh, the smoke dispersed, the candles went out, and the dorm's overhead lights flickered on.

            The six ingredients were gone, and standing in the center of the pentagram was a three-inch tall skeleton.

            “Hey there!” he greeted. His bones rattled as he waved to the women seated before him. They peered down at him with wide eyes, shooting a couple glances to each other to make sure they were both seeing the same thing. The skeleton looked quizzically at his own hand as he waved it. “What happened to my skin?”

            “He’s so small…” Monica muttered. Her face drowned in shock while the skeleton examined himself. He was pure bone: no skin, no meat, no clothes. He was healthy too, nothing cracked or broken. Gina grabbed the book off her friend’s lap and skimmed the recipe they used.

            “You idiot!” She slapped Monica’s shoulder. “This says tablespoons, not teaspoons!”

            “There’s a difference?”

            “Yes!” Gina rubbed at her furrowed brow and turned her attention back to the skeleton. He had finished examining himself and was now studying the giant women before him. “So, what are we doing with this thing? It doesn’t seem like it’ll make good boyfriend material.”

            “What are you talking about? He’s adorable!” Monica gushed. While the women talked over him, the skeleton bent over and scraped some ketchup onto his finger. He tried eating it, but it just dripped through the hole beneath his jaw. “Look at the curvature of his pelvic bone, the diameter on those eye sockets, the thickness of that humerus, how smooth his parietal bone is, and that jawline! Gina, I netted a fucking stud!” Gina buried her face in her hands, praying none of this was real. Monica turned back to the skeleton and waved. “Hey, little fella! My name’s Monica, and this is my best friend, Gina. How are you?” Without muscles, the skeleton couldn’t smile, but Monica was pretty sure he was smiling at her.

            “Hi! I’m Zeke.” He held out his hand to shake Monica’s; she pinched his bony palm between her index finger and thumb and followed through the gesture. “I’m not sure if you know what’s going on, but I think I might be dead.”

            “Yeah, I brought you back to life,” Monica explained. “Do you know how you died?” The skeleton tapped his chin with his collagenic finger, making a rhythmically satisfying ticking sound.

            “I remember being at a party and getting drunk. Everything between that and waking up here is a blur.” The giant woman held her hand out for the skeleton, beckoning him to walk up the fleshy ramp. Though Monica wore a welcoming expression, her figure was imposing as hell. Her hand was large enough to fully engulf the puny man, her feet were large enough to stomp him flat, her bulbous head hung over him like a celestial body, and her breasts, well, Zeke wouldn’t mind getting lost in her chasmal cleavage. He stepped onto her waiting palm, curious what the magical goth had in store for him.

            The lift was bumpy at first as Monica adjusted her hand’s pace. She didn’t want to give the guy whiplash, especially since he had no muscles to support his thin neck, but Zeke was light as air, so it was difficult to gauge how fast she should move him. His heart raced as he gazed upon the curvaceous landscape slowly passing by him. Oh wait, he didn’t have a heart. Well, something in his soul was stirring at the sight of the young woman. Eventually, he reached her prodigious face. Her breath poured through the gaps in his rib cage like a warm summer breeze.

            “Whatever happened to you, you’re safe now.” Being so close to Monica’s face, Zeke could see every pore in her skin, every wrinkle beneath her tired eyes, and each individual root of her hair and eyebrows. Likewise, he was close enough to her nose for her to catch his scent, an appealing aroma both sweet and tart. “Okay, this is gonna sound weird, but c-can I taste you?”

            “Monica, no!” Gina protested. “Don’t you realize how unsanitary that is? Who knows how long he’s been decomposing.”

            “I know. Never. This isn’t his real body, it’s just a replication made from the stuff we gathered.”

            “Great, so you’re putting pencil lead in your mouth.”

            “It’s just graphite! It doesn’t hurt! Stop being such a killjoy.” The logical part of Zeke’s brain, er, mind, told him not to enter the mouth of a giant stranger, but a mysterious urge compelled him to enable her. Though he had only just met Monica, he felt he could trust her, like their souls were connected in some way.

            “Sure thing. Let's do it,” Zeke decided. “Getting licked by a cute girl is oddly low on the list of weird things happening to me recently.” With a delighted squeal, Monica's obsidian lips parted, allowing her tongue to slither out from its hole. She pulled Zeke in and dragged his body down her tongue. Her round, midline piercing bounced against his skeletal frame like a mallet drifting along a marimba. The muscle itself was warm and unrelenting in its girth and power. Zeke could feel large globs of her saliva eking through the gaps in his body and filling up his orifices.

            Monica couldn't stop licking. Her suspicion was right: he tasted just like key lime pie. Every lap she took filled her mouth with that signature sugary tartness. She kept up her assault so fervently, she didn't notice her piercing break through his ribcage like a wrecking ball. Her excitement was so invigorating, she couldn't help but crush the skeleton to bits within her tightening grip.

            “Oh no!” she shouted as she broke from her euphoric stupor. The shattered bones trickled from her hand onto the cardboard below. It would take several hours to glue each piece back together. “Oh no, I'm so sorry!” Monica failed her arms in panic, mortified that she just killed her undead boyfriend. “Gina, what do I do!?”

            “Gimme a sec, I'm looking.” Gina flipped through the necronomicon in hopes of finding an answer. Monica was ready to burst into tears at the sight of Zeke’s desecrated corpse.

            “Hey, it's all good! I'm fine,” Zeke's disembodied voice said. The top half of his skull rattled as he spoke, his speech unimpeded by his dislocated jawbone. “I don't seem to be able to move, though.”

            “Thank God!” Monica scooped up the tiny bone fragments into her cupped palms. “I was so worried I broke you.” Her massive lips came bearing down on the crumbled skeleton, embracing most of his pieces in an enveloping kiss. Black lipstick smeared across his pallid fragments as she pressed him against her pillowy lips. When she finally pulled out, several bones lied stuck to her blackened vermillion like white sprinkles on dark chocolate frosting. She rolled her tongue across her lips, knocking most of them back into her palms. Though Zeke had no blood nor skin, Monica was certain his skull was blushing in her hands.

            “Found it,” Gina announced. “Says here, ‘if a thrall becomes damaged, simply recite the incantation: memento mori.’”

            “Memento mori!” At the sound of her voice, Zeke's bones flew into a flurry, hastily putting themselves back together until he was complete once more. No scratch or crack remained amongst his pallid framework. “There, all better.” Zeke sat down in the woman's palm and examined his own, each phalanges, carpal, and midcarpal bone returned to their proper position with the simple utterance of an idiom.

            “This is wild,” he muttered. “The afterlife never sounded this rad in Sunday school.”

            “I wonder how much punishment he can take?” Gina mused. “If he’s going to be your boyfriend, he should be able to support your weight, don’t you think?”

            B-boyfriend? Zeke thought he heard something to that effect earlier, but the word still made his soul stir. He was single when he died and never had much luck with women when he was alive, so being resurrected as a goth chick’s boy toy was certainly a welcome surprise.

            Suddenly, Monica's fingers gripped around Zeke's frame. It was a tight hold, but the skeleton noticed it was only so tight as to not break him, the woman having a better grasp of her lover's durability. “You're right,” she said to her friend, “and I have the perfect idea of how to test his limits.” Monica stood up and tossed her tiny lover behind her onto her bed. Falling through the air, even at a short distance, felt strangely exhilarating. Air rushed through every gap in his body, chilling him to the bone. It was like feeling the wind rush through one's hair, only applied to the entire body. 

            Zeke landed on the bed with a creaking thud. The soft comforter cushioned his fall and kept all his bones in place, not that it would matter for long. Looming a foot above him was the fullest moon he had ever seen, only somewhat clad by an old pair of purple panties. Monica's bare cheeks barreled out from the panties' edges, each one more than large enough to fully engulf the skeleton's puny existence. She playfully slapped her ass, sending ripples through her dancing fat.

            “How's the view from down there?” she teased, peeking over her shoulder to catch Zeke's stone-faced reaction. “Want a closer look?” His dry, emaciated body longed for the thick mound of flesh and fat suspended above him. Even without a face to express how awestruck he was, Zeke's carnal yearning was still perceptible to his soul-mate, and the colossal woman wasted no time in fulfilling his desire.

            What to her was the simple act of sitting down was a meteor strike to shrunken man. His fragile body immediately caved in to the immense weight thrust upon him. His skull cratered until it was in unrecognizable pieces. His arms and legs cracked at every seam. His ribcage was decimated upon contact, and his spine dislocated at every knot. The world as he knew it was no more, replaced entirely by the soft and warm flesh of Monica's butt. 

            Knowing that she could repair her boyfriend at the drop of an idiom, Monica relished the crunching beneath her. She lifted herself an inch off the bed and slammed back down, bouncing up and down on the mattress and smushing Zeke further into the comforter. A complete sense of overwhelming authority flowed through her. To her miniature skeleton, she was equal parts a benevolent goddess and unrelenting cataclysm. The power she held over Zeke was unlike anything she could get out of a traditional relationship, and the fact he was so willing to submit to her, or at least recognized how futile resistance was, only strengthened her feelings toward him.

            Monica went from bouncing on the mattress to grinding her ass against the bed, ensuring there'd be nothing left of the skeleton once she was done. As his body multiplied into more and smaller pieces, Zeke could feel his consciousness shift. When whole, his entire body acted as one, just at it would when he was alive. But as he broke apart, even though he'd lose mobility in his separated parts, he could still feel sensations through them. Every granular piece essentially had its own magical nervous system, allowing him to feel Monica's weight, and her warmth, from every angle of his decimated remains.

            After a couple minutes bouncing and grinding, Monica lifted her ass off Zeke. “How does he look?” she asked, turning so her butt faced Gina. The skeleton had been reduced to a white dust splotch plastered against her bulbous cheek.

            “You look like you just sat on a powdered donut,” she giggled. As strange as this all was, Gina enjoyed watching her bestie dominate the helpless specter. “I'll admit, you're making me jealous. Now I kinda want my own personal undead boyfriend.”

            “I can make another one! I have a surplus of all the ingredients. Oh!” Monica remembered that the stain on her butt was technically still alive. “Memento mori!” It took a moment for the dust to pry itself off Monica's rear, as if it were holding on for as long as it could, but eventually, the white powder removed itself from her skin and reformed into the familiar form of a three-inch skeleton on the woman's bed.

            “I appreciate it, but maybe another time,” Gina said. “It's late, and I have morning classes tomorrow, so I'm heading to bed.” Monica scooped up Zeke in her hand and held him to her face.

            “And how are you holding up?” she asked.

            “That was awesome! Do it again! Do it again!” His bones rattled as he cheered.

            “Calm down, silly. Gina's right, we should get some sleep. But, I promise there will be more where that came from.” Monica tossed Zeke back onto the bed and made for the bathroom to wash up. Gina laid down on her bed across the room and buried her head in her pillow.

            Once Monica had finished, she turned off the bedroom lights and leapt onto her bed, sending Zeke bounding into the air. Monica caught him and brought him to her chest, wedging her man between her extravagant tits. She turned to lie on her side, sandwiching the tiny skeleton within a velvety pocket of fat.

            “Sweet dreams,” she muttered, closing her eyes and drifting off. She looked a bit odd with her makeup and piercings removed, but no less cute. Zeke couldn't close his eyes; he had none to shut. He lied there, still, blanketed in bosom. No longer alive, the skeleton had no need for sleep and was thus incapable of it. As monotonous as a sleepless night could be, being snuggled within his new girlfriend's cleavage was surely the best way to spend it. 

            Zeke's mind wandered, floating through memories of his old life. If that frat party was his last day alive, he hadn't lived a very long or fulfilling life. In a way, it was probably best that he died when he did. He was the type to live in the moment with no plans for the future and no ambitions to guide his path. Finding himself stuck as a giant woman's plaything, one she pleasantly referred to as a boyfriend, was probably infinitely preferable to the mediocre existence he would have eked out were he not dead.

            Monica's heartbeat rang through the hole that once held Zeke's ear canal. It's rhythmic pulsing lulled the little guy into a trance. Under the beating spell, morning came quicker than he would've liked.

…

            The following afternoon, Monica sat in a lounge chair in the student center's main atrium, waiting for her best friend to finish up her last class. She had on a low-cut, sleeveless tank top; black, as her brand required. A leather collar was wrapped around her neck, and tied to the front of it was a small, thin rope leading down her chest and forming into a noose. 

            “Seriously?” Gina asked, popping out of seemingly nowhere. “When the hell did you make that?” She pointed at Monica’s cleavage where a tiny skull was poking out. Monica tugged at the rope, lifting her boyfriend by the neck out from his cozy retreat. 

            “I skipped my Human Evolution course. This was far more important.” The skeleton waved at his new friend, Gina, who politely returned the gesture, albeit not with a straight face.

            “Oh my God, that necklace is so cool!” A blonde student in yoga pants and a pink crop top had approached the pair, enraptured by the goth's chic accessory. “Where'd you get that?”

            “I made it,” Monica boasted, still dangling the skeleton above her chest. Zeke waved at the woman to which she waved back astonished. “If you want, I could make one for you, but you'll have to wait. My friend here gets first dibs.”

            “Really? That’d be great!” The woman pulled out her phone to share her contact info. “Take all the time you need, Halloween's still a few weeks away.”

            “Will do! Oh, and are you single?” Monica inquired. The woman blushed, taken aback by the sudden question.

            “Y-yeah,” she giggled, brushing her hair from her eye. “Why do you ask?”

            “Excellent! I swear, with one of these bad boys, you’re guaranteed to meet your special someone.”