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Tom was on the prowl for a new girlfriend.
He’d grown bored with his old one. He’d been with her for six years, eight months and three days. That was a lot of time to invest in creating the perfect girlfriend—but sometimes familiarity breeds contempt. He hardly spent any time with her any more. The challenge was gone. Margaret was everything he’d imagined she could be when he first meet her for the first time at the bus station. She’d proven malleable. He’d trained her, whittling away her undesirable features. But these days she just seemed tired and used up. He used to think of her as four holes: three that he could fuck anytime he wanted and another in his wallet. He hadn’t though that would get old, but somehow, the sexual excitement was gone. He fucked her when he needed to relieve himself, but most of the time he’d just as soon watch a ball game. When had he become such an old fart?
He’d even dyed her hair blonde recently, trying to recapture the old magic from their early days. But maybe he’d gone too far in making Margaret exactly what he wanted. There was no challenge any more.
And so he’d left his old girlfriend hanging out at the house and went out bar hopping for the night. Now it was after midnight, but he was pretty sure he’d finally found a new canvas for his creative fantasies to work on. He’d decided to go a completely different direction this time. Where Margaret had been the kind of girl that could make even a gay man look twice—this girl was a little on the heavier side. Not that Michelle was unattractive, she had pleasant features and a nice symmetry—but she was a little heavy through the shoulders stomach and especially the hips. She was desperate for attention but a bit shy; the kind of girl who came to a busy singles bar early and was still waiting to get lucky when it was after midnight.
And where Margaret had brown hair and brown eyes (at least when he’d met her) Michelle had blonde hair and blue eyes. It hadn’t taken much to get those eyes to look at him adoringly—especially after he’d turned on his spider web charm and bought her a few too many drinks. She was ripe for the picking now. All he had to do was say the words.
“So, do you want to get out of here or what?”
Her eyes widened and she was breathing a little too hard, but she was smiling as if she’d been trying to think of a subtle way to ask the same question without seeming like a slut.
As if that was a bad thing.
It was obvious that she wanted it.
And Tom wanted to give it to her.
“Come on,” Tom said. “I think you’re a little drunk. Why don’t you let me drive you home?”
2
Fifteen minutes after they left the bar, Tom pulled his van between the trees of a nearly hidden driveway and began bumping his way slowly along the gravel drive as it climbed up the side of a very steep hill.
“Wow,” Michelle said, “With all these trees, your place must really be secluded.”
“I definitely don’t have any trouble with my neighbors,” Tom said, looking over at her and grinning. “But the trees thin out a little when we get to the top of the hill, so my living room has a great view, without sacrificing virtually any privacy. I think you’ll find my place rather interesting. There are a lot of things I want to show you.”
“Like what?” Michelle said, feeling a warm glow of anticipation. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had said something to her that made her feel like that.
“Well, for starters,” Tom said, pausing while he got out of the van and walked around to open her door, like a real gentleman. “I’ve decided to take my life in a whole new direction. I’m getting rid of the old and bringing in the new, so to speak.”
“You mean like a new job?” She guessed.
Tom grinned. “You might say that. Not literally, of course, but training someone to be what you want them to be, is definitely hard work. It’s going to take a lot of time and effort; we’ll have to work together on this if it’s going to work.”
“Together?” Geez, this seemed to be moving a lot faster than she ever would have guessed. But she had to admit, “I kind of like the sound of that.” she looked around his living room approvingly. It was large and plushy furnished; not like her own apartment at all. “but, ah… what exactly did you have in mind?”
“A total transformation,” Tom said as he pushed the front door open. “Something experimental; totally new and cutting edge—only no more cutting I think. I want you to get around on your own, totally independent—within the limits of certain bonds, of course… I’ll teach you how to do what I do on the computer, so you can keep things going, while I’m gone. So really, you’ll be like my helper or a maid.”
Michelle had no idea what he was mumbling about—so the best strategy seemed to be to make light of his words. “You brought me here to be your maid? Kinky. Do I get a uniform, or something?”
“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously,” Tom said, giving her a stern and disapproving scowl that was almost frightening. “I’m not going to show you what I do if you don’t take it seriously.”
Was he serious, or was this just another part of some role playing game?
“I AM taking it seriously,” she said. “Really I am. I’ve just never… been someone’s maid before.”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully, as if considering her apology.
“Come on… show me what you do.”
“Fine,” he said, taking her hand and smiling, as if nothing had happened. “Let me show you my computer.”
“You’re computer?” That wasn’t what she’d been expecting at all.
“It’s a new start up company I tried,” he said, “but it’s really taking off. All I do is fill the orders and take the packages into town for mailing.”
“Is this the experimental thing you wanted me to help you with?”
“No, of course not,” Tom said. “That part’s just between the two of us. I just wanted to show you this so you’d understand that I’m not just some bum. I can afford to fulfill all the dreams I have for you. So things will be different this time. I want us to be more like a couple, and I really don’t think I can do that without you. Well, that’s not entirely true… I could go find someone else, of course, but you’re already here and... You’re going to be perfect.”
It was a little strange, but it sounded like a compliment; and she hadn’t had one of those in a long time.
“Perfect?” She asked, looking down at her own body disapprovingly. “Do you really think so? I always thought I was a little… you know.”
“Trust me, you will be perfect,” he said. “You have a lot of positive elements I can work with. You have beautiful skin, and your features are very symmetrical. It’s a good foundation that I can build on.”
“You make it sound like you have a professional gym in your house.”
“It’s in the basement.”
“Really?”
“There’s plenty of time for that later; don’t worry, I’ll whip you into shape. You’ll be perfect before I know it.”
Michelle chuckled. “You have a way of giving very strange compliments, you know that.”
“I don’t deal in compliments; I deal in results. Come on,” he said, guiding her back out of his computer room and back down the hall to another door, which was also locked.
“You have strange walls,” she observed, noticing the tile on the walls. It reminded her (vaguely) of a dragon’s scales.
“Strange but useful, given our project,” he said, “but now I have something very special I want to show you. You see, I want you to be a bigger part of my life than my last girl friend has been… I mean all she does is hang around. All she’s good for was taking care of my needs, if you know what I mean… And resting my head on her stomach, although even that....”
“Don’t you mean on her shoulder?”
“I want you to be more.”
“Yeah… part of that new direction you mentioned, huh?”
Tom stuck a key in his bedroom lock, then he seemed to look back at her for dramatic effect, grinning. “Michelle, I’d like you to meet, Margaret, my old girlfriend. I’m afraid we don’t really see eye to eye any more… Now, I know you’re probably going to say it’s because I glued her eyelids together before sewing them shut…”
“What did you say?” She asked. She hadn’t really been paying attention because she’d been a little distracted by his rather large bed.
“…but it’s more than that, really,” Tom said as he pulled the door closed with a click. Then he walked across the room to his closet. “We just don’t connect like we used to,” he said as he began to open the old fashioned, swinging doors. “Oh, she still sucks a mean cock. And she’s developed incredible control over the muscles in her pussy and ass… but I have a theory that those are skills anyone can learn, if you train them right. I’m sure you’ll soon discover what I mean. The right motivation makes all the difference.”
His words were finally beginning to register, and they stopped Michelle in her tracks. A moment later the closet doors opened enough for her to see that there was someone inside. For a long moment, what she was seeing refused to take focus; her mind simply couldn’t register the contradictions of what she was seeing. Then slowly, the horror of it took shape.
A girl without arms or legs was hanging from her long blonde hair. Somehow, a bit of red ribbon was hanging from her crotch, although Michelle couldn’t see how it was attached. Beneath her was a small bucket, that stank of piss and perhaps other things. Her eyes were sewn shut, but her mouth gapped open, like a baby bird, waiting for its mother to stuff food in its mouth. The poor girl squirmed on the end of her tether, but the movements didn’t seem to be fearful. Strangely, she seemed eager for Tom’s presence. When he placed his hand on her shoulder, she twisted the bottom of her torso out towards him, as if desperately trying to make contact.
“Quiet down,” Tom said, as he looked back at Michelle. “There’s no reason for you to scream. I told you, I’m planning to take you in a whole new direction. This isn’t what is in store for you.” He pointed at her as he said the word you and she noticed that he was holding a syringe in his hand.
Then she noticed herself in the mirror and realized (for the first time) that she was screaming. But strangely, her voice was coming out in a hoarse little squeak that she could barely hear. “You’re insane,” that voice said. And she couldn’t help agreeing with it, although another part of her mind seemed to be warning her that calling a crazy person insane might not be the best strategy if she wished to escape.
Suddenly, the hyperventilating part of her mind seemed to catch up with the rest of it and take over. She gasped, drawing in a deep ragged breath and she could feel her body trembling now, as her knees literally knocked together with what should have been a painful thump.
She began backing way from Tom.
“Where are you going?” He asked, in an exasperated voice, as if he were talking to a troublesome child. “There’s nowhere to go. We’re in a secluded woods, miles away from anything. And I’ve gone to great lengths to make sure that no one else knows where it is. I have a mail box in town… I haven’t even told my family or friends about this place. And I’ve made the rooms sound proof, as you’ve noticed, so there’s no chance that anyone can hear you.”
Michelle’s fingers clutched at the door handle.
He was getting rid of the old and bringing in the new—just like he’d said.
Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Her brain screamed silently. I can’t end up like that!
Her fingers slipped as she tried to turn the door handle, so she turned around and gripped it harder—but that only made it obvious that the door was locked.
“You really need to calm down,” Tom said.
“You want to do that to me, don’t you?” She whispered, looking back at him in horror.
“You haven’t been listening to me, have you?” he asked, shaking his head and giving her another of his frightening scowls. “I told you: I’m going in a new direction this time.”
“Out with the old, in with the new.”
“Not literally. There’s no reason to get rid of things that work, and even if she’s not much of a pillow any more, because she’s so bony, she still sucks a fine cock.” He held out the hand that wasn’t holding the syringe and motioned her to come forward. “Come sit on the bed and we’ll discuss your new role as my partner.”
Michelle knew she could overpower Tom, he was much stronger than she was. The smartest thing she could do would be to play along. There was an aluminum baseball bat in the closet; that looked like a promising weapon. All she had to do was find an excuse to get close enough to grab it. Maybe she could pretend to be fascinated by the poor girl hanging from her hair in the closet. Could she do that? It seemed to be the kind of thing he’d want from her.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, she forced herself to move towards the bed, which brought her closer to the closet and the bat.
“Can I look at her?” Michelle asked, taking a tentative step towards the hanging girl.
“Of course you can,” Tom said with a pleased smile. “I want you to feel free to use her too, you know. Sometimes I get bored with her and forget to feed her. And I suspect she wouldn’t mind taking care of your needs as well. She really does have a talented tongue. Would you like me to set her on the bed so you can give her a try?”
“No… no,” Michelle said, walking towards the girl and placing her hand against her side. “I want to take a look at her in her… native position first.”
She could feel the poor girl’s body trembling with anticipation. It didn’t seem to mater whether it was Tom touching her—she was desperate for any attention, from anyone.
“She’s so pretty,” Michelle said.
At one time, it was probably even true.
“Does her bucket need emptying?” she said, pretending to look as she reached for the bat that was leaning against the wall, only a little more than a foot away.
Behind her, she could hear Tom moving towards her quickly. She clutched at the bat, but it toppled, landing in the pile of his dirty clothes. A moment later, he was grabbing her around the waist. Toppling forward, she scrambled to get a hold of the bat, knocking over the bucket in the process and covering herself with the smell of ripe piss. Tom was pulling her away from the bat, rolling her towards the other end of the closet so she couldn’t reach it. This, however, brought her closer to a tennis racket, which she hadn’t noticed before. Desperately she grasped for it, realizing as she picked it up that it was actually smaller and easier to swing than the bat would have been. She let him pull her out of the clothes she was tangled up in, since it gave her more room to swing.
Her back hand caught him in the side of the head.
When he screamed and let go, clutching his ear, she kicked up as hard as she could into his crotch. There was a satisfying sound, as her foot connected and he collapsed, curling up into a tight ball. Taking advantage, she hit him several more times with the tennis racket—as blood few everywhere, nearly invisible as it splattered against the blood red walls. After a few moments of taking her fury out on him, she calmed enough to think about the bat again. Tossing the tennis racket aside, she reached for it. It felt heavy and solid in her hands as she swung it over head, bringing it down against his side. There was a cracking sound—and she knew she’d broken a rib, but his body didn’t even flinch. He was done, his head, face and body covered with blood.
Damn, there was so much blood.
She hadn’t exactly beaten him to a pulp, but she didn’t expect him to ever get back up again either.
At that moment, she realized she was smiling, and somewhere in the back of her mind it occurred to her that the idea of killing a man should have been more disturbing, but it wasn’t. For the first time in several minutes, she felt completely calm.
3
Michelle lay on the floor beside the couch. The armless girl she’d recently rescued was lying on the couch in front of her. A small platter of food was sitting on the coffee table, not far away.
Even though she was expecting her to weigh less, it was surprising (and a little alarming) just how little Margaret weighted—and not all of it was because she was missing her legs. Tom obviously hadn’t been feeding her anywhere near enough.
She winced when she thought about Tom’s body. Ugh! She wasn’t looking forward to getting rid of it—in fact she was still rather confused about how to even start. No, tonight, all she wanted to do was relax and not worry about the things she knew she’d eventually have to do. Shaking her head, she put those thought out of her mind and touched the spoon to the poor girl’s lips again.
Surprisingly, Margaret turned her head away, as if she were too full to eat any more. This seemed odd, given how little she’d eaten; and how eagerly she’d held her mouth open in the beginning. Even the first bite of food seemed to surprise her, however. Michelle couldn’t help thinking it was because the girl wasn’t accustomed to being fed when she wasn’t hanging in the closet; or maybe it was because she was being fed a kind of food (real people food) that she wasn’t used to eating. Whatever the reason, however, having it in her mouth seemed to disturb her.
No wonder the poor thing was so thin.
Tears began to fall as she contemplated what the poor girl’s life must have been like—and what it would be like going forward.
Michelle intended to treat her much better than Tom had, but still, the girl couldn’t see. She didn’t seem to hear or speak, either. Her skin was incredibly sensitive, however; she clearly yearned for contact with another human—any human.
Michelle wondered if there was anything that could be done to help her.
The girl’s legs were gone forever, of course. Nothing could grow them back. And she could see the cut in her throat, which implied that Tom must have done something to her vocal cords. He’d probably also done something to her ears, which was why she didn’t seem to be able to hear. Or maybe she’d been born death. Maybe that was why he’d rendered her mute—so he wouldn’t have to listen to her strange voice.
In the morning, she’d begin the gruesome task of cutting the threads from the girl’s eyes, to see if her eye sight could be salvaged—although Michelle didn’t really expect much. Tom had mentioned something about gluing her eyes together, and the adhesive probably caused permanent damage.
Having been a nurse, at one time, Michelle was reasonably confident that a hospital wouldn’t be able to do much for the girl; certainly nothing that she couldn’t do just as well. And, if she turned Margaret over to the police, she would loose this house and the internet business that virtually ran itself. Not to mention the endless questions they’d ask about Tom’s death. When people learned what happened, there would be unwanted media attention. Her family would wonder what she’d been doing at a bar drinking with a strange man. Her co-workers would find out as well, and there would be the strange looks and mutterings behind her back.
It wasn’t the same at all, but she’d experienced something like what she feared would happen back when she was in high school.
No, it would definitely be better all around if she could avoid all that. Going back to her old life, however, didn’t seem practical. She couldn’t leave Margaret behind, but she didn’t see how it would be possible to take her home. Hospitals often had hidden cameras, so she could very well just drop her off somewhere.
The only real solution was to stay here and take care of Margaret herself. She’d taken a look at Tom’s computer business, and he’d not only been right about the thing virtually running itself—everything was drop ship and automated—but during the time since the last time he’d taken care of it, he’d sold several hundred dollars worth of inventory.
It was enough to live on; enough to put a little away in savings. And the house really was rather nice. It had a fully equipped gym in the basement, and she could purchase a few pieces of medical equipment to help her with Margaret’s needs. She would no doubt be able to give the poor girl far more attention than they would at even the best facility—and that was assuming she didn’t fall through the cracks and there was some government agency willing to pay for her housing and treatment.
No, it would be far better to take care of the girl herself. It wasn’t much, but she would spend the rest of her life doing what she could to make the girl’s life a little more enjoyable.
The only problem with her plan was the question that still remained: What was she going to do with Tom’s body?
3
When he opened his eyes, Tom’s body felt bruised and sore and his head felt as if someone had bashed it in with a hammer. Lifted his face off the carpet, he felt a painful twinge in his side that almost made him cry out in pain. He’d never had one before, but there was no question in his mind that at least one of his ribs were broken.
Pressing his hand against the pain, he sat up a little further. He felt a little woozy and he was covered in sticky dried blood. Gently, he touched his fingers to the large knot on the crown of his skull and before he even looked, he knew his fingers would be covered with even more blood.
“Damn,” he muttered softly, “Something must have gone wrong.”
He couldn’t remember anything that had happened the night before, but he figured it was time to find out just what went on.
As he rose to his feet, his muscles and joints ached—as if someone had been wailing on him pretty good, but luckily, aside from the ribs, nothing seemed to be seriously damaged. It was just a little stiffness and a lot of soreness. He’d experienced worse after a long night spent drinking.
He went to the night table and checked for his gun. It was still taped under the drawer, right where he’d left it, so not a jealous boyfriend or anything. Still he checked to make sure that it was loaded. Then he started walking down the hall, determined to find out just what happened and set things right, if he could.
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