Introduction Index Part 2

Subject:      CODY: MY STRUGGLE, Part 1 Home Alone
From: (Mithryl)
Date:         1996/11/01
Message-Id:   <55dbto$>
Newsgroups:   rec.arts.prose,

                               MY STRUGGLE

                          BY CODY ANN MICHAELS
                         c. All Rights Reserved

                                 PART 1

                              HOME ALONE

                         A NOTE OF EXPLANATION

	A few weeks ago, I posted the following ad on the Usenet:

	"CODY'S LONESOME.  TELL ME A STORY.  Green eyes.  Long red hair. 
Big tits.  Long legs.  Likes plenty of pain and violence.  Not necessarily
in that order.  Will reply in kind." 

	After thinking about it for a long time, I decided to publish my
side of the ensuing correspondence in the hope other people will write to
me.  I know some people will be offended by these letters and probably
think I'm totally depraved.  To them, I can only say I'm sorry.  If that
kind of stuff turns you off, don't read them.  Since I often wrote to a
couple people at once, some things might not make a lot of sense without
reading their letters or stories.  On the other hand, as I wrote, not much
I do these days seems to make sense, so maybe it doesn't matter. 



                            Chapter 1

	I have to admit I'm going through a crisis right now.  I've been
doing this for a couple of years now.  When I first started, it was sort
of as a joke.  And also defiance.  I had a lot of fantasies about pain,
cruelty, being beat up and degraded.  I knew they were sick and that there
had to be something wrong with me to think that way.  Ever since I was
eleven or twelve, I've been obsessed with sex and violence.  I don't mean
like you see on television.  That's a real fantasy.  I mean, having some
guy re ally beat me to a pulp and then raping me.  But more than that,
like I wanted it to be in public.  In front of a lot of people, who would
just watch and get off on it. 

	I don't want to bore you, but I finally got my wish.  It was a bar
down in Jersey, and I was fifteen, Anyway, I'll tell you about that some
other time.  The idea was that I would be all dressed up, you know, like
wearing a dress and high heels.  I... 

	This is hard to talk about.  I hope you don't mind.  Anyway, at
first, it was great.  I wrote a lot of stories.  Recently, I bound all the
stories about what happened to me that I printed out.  It was a six or
seven inches manuscript, single spaced.  And those were just my stories. 
Not the ones guys sent to me.  If you'd like, I could send you some.  But
it was like being on drugs.  In the beginning, you feel really wonderful,
but then things start to fall apart.  You get crazy, and you think, maybe
the re's something more.  You have to do more.  Reach for more.  Take
bigger risks. 

	And you can really get creamed.  You can really make mistakes. 
Like walking into a biker bar in a little black slip dress, stockings and
high heels.  And spitting in some guy's beer.  They threw me out.  They
thought I was crazy.  Well, maybe I was.  I don't know what I was on that
night.  Kelly told me about it later.  She's my lover. 

	Did I tell you I got fired from the magazine?  I was an intern on
a fashion magazine.  An assistant to an assistant editor.  They got tired
of me coming to work looking like mashed potatoes and tomato sauce. 
Actually, my boss got off on it, but enough i s enough. 

	I don't know what I'm saying tonight.  I could tell you a lot
about seeing one coming.  The trouble is, I just can't seem to make the
stories make sense anymore.  Everything falls apart.  I'll tell you what
it is.  I remember now. 

	When I first began, I wasn't a submissive.  I didn't even believe
in that bondage shit.  I thought the whole thing was a joke.  And I was
always making fun of the people who were into it.  You know, like tops,
bottoms, safe words, etc.  At one point I ha d half the bondage geeks on
the internet screaming for my blood.  Some even accused me of being a
government agent, trying to set up a sting.  (Which, incidentally, reminds
me, it's not cool to send your name and address, etc. to someone you've
barely met .  You could get offed good that way.  But I'm not a cop.) This
went on for some time.  And then I noticed I was starting to change.  I
started to think more like a slave.  And to actually need to submit.  And
beg.  It's hard to define.  Before, I had wa nted someone to beat and
degrade me.  But now I wanted to want to be treated that way.  You get
what I mean? 

	Maybe it is the difference between being dirt and knowing that I
am dirt.  It's so confusing.  Anyway, the more I became conscious of my
need for subservience, the more difficult it became to write.  Coherently,
I mean.  Meaningfully.  I mean, it was as if my life were becoming a
cluster of unconnected beatings and humiliations rather than a unified
structure of events that I could identify as myself.  I needed to shape a
story as it came out, but I had lost control.  I went home to Florida to
try to reg ain some kind of sanity and think about what I wanted to do
with my life.  After all, I am 19.  I've got to make some decisions. 
Right now I'm thinking of going back to school in the fall to be a lawyer. 
I also want to write.  Not about myself.  About t hings that matter. 
Racism.  Poverty.  People going hungry because a bunch of male white
racists are killing welfare.  Women's rights.  Education.  I mean, I am
not a bimbo. 

	One of my lovers was a guy at ... I can't say where.  Let's say at
a scientific organization in... Zurich.  Close enough.  Was he warped! 
Have you ever been skinned by having crazy glue painted on your skin and
then ripped off?  Oh God, was he wonderful!

	Okay, what am I talking about?  What I want to do.  I want to
drive into Miami to a place in West Dade that has amateur night at the mud
fights...  Oh man.  You can get so wasted.  There is one woman there who
weighs three hundred pounds...  A total sadi st.  Who hates women. 
Especially me.  Just cause a guy she liked got friendly with me one night. 
Oh God, I don't want to remember.  Stop. 

	That's just it.  I can't remember.  I mean, I can.  But I ...

	I'm crying.  Wait a minute.

	One of the games Kelly and I play -- she made it up, was for me to
go on irc and ask people to make up things to do it me.  And then Kelly
would do it.  In RL.  It got like I was a ping pong ball between her and
cyberspace.  Kelly is really in to cyberse x.  But in a different way. 
It's her goal to find a way to establish a connection between virtual and
real.  Sort of real virtual.  And this was her idea of a way to do it. 
See, someone could pretend he was shoving a broom up my butt, and Kelly
could ac tually be doing it.  It got a lot more complicated than that. 
But I don't want to talk about it. 

	So the more this went on, and the more energy I was devoting to
it, the more I was losing control.  It was like things were flying off at
the edges.  Like, I didn't even know who I was.  I was walking around
bumping into walls.  And door frames.  And hav ing my head slammed on the
edge of the table.  And screaming.  And ... 

	She was crazy.  I guess I always knew that.  Maybe that's why I
loved her.  She needed to be protected.  She acts tough, but she's very
vulnerable.  A gorgeous redhead with a drop dead figure.  Green eyes.  Big
boobs.  Long, showgirl legs.  She's a dancer.  Kelly's been dancing in
clubs since she was twelve. 

five foot seven, 120 pounds, 39DD-25-36.  19.

	I hope I'm not boring you.  I'm trying to figure out what to
write.  It's so hard.  Nothing ever happens to me.  I was only fifteen
when I started to have sex.  I got big early.  I was already out to there
in the eighth grade.  I was so embarassed.  Ever yone stared at me.  I had
also gotten tall.  With long skinny legs I didn't know what to do with. 
Everything I did seemed wrong.  I was so clumsy.  And people were always
bumping into me.  And my brother...  my brother said I was a whore.  He
told the wh ote school. 

	I can't tell you anymore.  Maybe this was a mistake, trying to
start again. 

	The other night I was at a bar on the Tamiami Trail.  It was like
that one in Jersey.  I was wearing a see-through fishnet leotard and a
spandex tube skirt.  And boots.  But it didn't feel right.  It wasn't even
deja vu.  It was like I had done that and who cares?  Of course, the guy
who came onto me didn't feel the same way.  For him I was fresh plowed
fields waiting to take his seed.  That's another thing.  You guys always
telling me you're disease free.  I'm sorry.  I can't say the same.  Maybe
we can just be friends.  His fist doubled me up.  My hair fell in my face. 
I grabbed myself and clinched my teeth.  And he pasted me against the side
of my face. 

	I went down hard.  My face was right in front of his feet.  I knew
he'd been waiting for this moment all his life.  I followed my head
backwards towards a table leg and knocked it over.  The next moment, a
foot was coming down on my left hooter.  The crowd cheered. 

	I got out of there at five in the morning and crawled home.  I
still can't move.  Just type with the flicking of my left eyelash.  Just
kidding.  But it does hurt to shift.  and enter.  oh shit.  just doing
jfkd;ajaflsdafsadfasdl;gasdrgoadgads;gdaf gaerg
eagv  oh
seee what i mean
no eddie
no more

eddie is cody's boy friend but he has to pretend he isnb't 
so he and kelly fuck through cody
and cody hangs in the balance
her weight resting completely on her tits.
how to do it?

bring her in.

the girl came into the room and looked at him
wjat a,m oi dpogoijg here
she said
a guard walked up to her
and slapped her across the face
with the back of his hand
aimee started toc ry
aimee wake up
it's only a dream
no please
she whined from underneatht the tent
at that moment, she was saved
and the committee rested
take on another.  Do it now.
Show them what you have.
Do it now.
Cody crawled across the ring and kissed Slutgirl's boot
She slobbered on the black patent leather he had ever seen.
There were two kings.  All his life, he heard about the other one.  The
one who had defected to the reds. 
Tjhey brought her back into the room and dropped her.
Now do you understand?

She nodded.

Good.  Now your training can begin.

Kelly reached into the suggestion box.

This one is from a farmer in Illinois.  He wants to know if you've ever
been in a tractor pull.  Of course, the tractors could easily tear Cody
apart.  That's not the object.  It's to keep from tearing her apart by
holding her in tension by pulling on her arms and legs.  Kelly wondered
where they could get four tractors.  She improvised by having Eddie bring
three of his buddies over and they could take the part of the tractors. 
She looked at that?  Was it true?  She wondered.  It didn't have quite the
s ame effect.  It was just four guys pulling on Cody and her screaming and
complaining.  That was what really drove her nuts.  The complaints.  I am
not anonymous.  She screamed.  But who cared.  It was just more of the
same.  We really need the tractors.  But who cares?  She smacked Cody's
ass.  Shutup. 

	She tumbled through the layers of .. what?  I can't remember.  I
think maybe I got a little brain damaged, cause I keep fogging out, can't
remember what I was saying.  Marry him.  We'll work it out later.  And now
it was later.  Her head hit the wall.  The wall the mall.  What am I
doing?  She stumbled home, holding a rag to her face.  Hair falling in
face.  Falling down drunk.  Oh God, I'm sick.  I threw up all over myself. 
I don't think I'm wearing panties.  What happened?  How'd I get here.  I
can't remember.  Maybe that's why I was an easy target.  It really hurt. 
Don't do that again.  I won't.  I pro mise.  He hit her.  Cody went down
on her knees.  Right in front of him.  He unzipped his pants.  He really
gave it to her.  Face fucked.  Oh yes.  I want to lick it.  Begging for
it.  Oh gimmiee.  Pretending you want it.  Wanting to be fucked.  Guys
watc hing.  Grabbing my big tits.  Some guy feeling my cunt.  She's wet. 
I know it.  This is some slut.  Yeah.  She really wants it.  What a pig. 
Wearing yellow silk dress.  Quarter eurasian.  Very pretty.  Two dollars. 
Gimmee too dollar for my daughter's v irgin hole.  Oh god, no.  I hated it
when he did that.  I would get so red.  Daddy, stop.  Please Daddy.  He
ran the razor tip up my chest, making a small scratch, like a lazer.  She
jumped.  Two ton Lizzie had her in the pool.  She was holding her face i n
the mud, while Cody squirmed her little ass, begging for breath.  The ref
told Liz to let her up.  She took her foot off the little teenager's head
and pulled her up.  Cody gagged.  Liz shook her head, making the mud fly. 
Then picked her up and body slammed her on the concrete outside the pool. 

	Cody couldn't get up.  She was writhing in pain.  The crowd
cheered.  Lizzie dragged her across the cement by the hair.  And drop
kicked Cody's face right into the pole on the other side of the pool. 
Cody followed. 

	Lizzie could have crushed Cody in an instant.  But that wasn't the
object of the game.  It was to make Cody thoroughly uncomfortable. 
The big amazon rubbed Cody's face in the cement.
Then smashed her again.

The little high school beauty queen was having a hard night.
It was going to get worse.
Now cutie.

	None of this fits.  I don't know what I'm going to do.  I'd better
figure something out soon, or I'm going to be dead. 

	Tits.  Ass.  Feet.  Kyle liked feet.  He was a master at toe
surgery.  Both inside and on the surface.  He could give a girl a real
pedicure.  He had a pass for CERN.  You know, the big atom smasher.  He
wanted to put my feet in there.  But he couldn't f igure out a way to do
it.  He just wanted my feet.  Not the rest of me.  The toes, to be
specific.  The two little ones.  Everything else had to be out of the
tunnel.  I won't go into the specifics.  But it was wild.  Half of Europe
went dark.  I don't kn ow how we got back to Zurick.  Kick, it's nice to
see you.  What have you been up to.  He had enough names to fill a phone
book.  But they usually only print the first eight.  Got that?  Let's go
on.  As I wantered around Hurope, Kyle would point out cast les and other
places where he would like to take off my clothes and torture me.  He
would really make me yodel.  I hate yodeling.  Yodeling is to a scream
what cupcakes are to what?  I lost the track.  Tits?  Maybe.  Anyway, it's
not screaming.  It's like mail order screaming.  Like McDonalds.  Well,
you know what I mean.  Yodeling is zero.  But he was into it. 

	I felt something picking me up and then going down again very fast
and breaking my back on her knee.  Oh God, that hurt.  Then I hit the mud
again.  It was like a spa.  God they hurt you in spas.  Now that is real
bondage.  And d.  No.  This wasn't d.  It was pain.  And then she pulled
a knife. 

	It scratched my chest as it flicked open.  Oh god no.  She began
to work the blade tip up my ribs.  Letting me know she was there.  And was
just playing with me.  I felt it slide across under my tit up inside
between the chest wall.  o no no honononoojnn o I was shaking so bad.  The
blade moved with my body.  She was picking me up and slamming me and all
the time the knife followed.  Letting me know it's there.  Like a gnat. 
Bobbing around her face.  Always getting in the way.  That was where death
was pok ing, trying to get in.  It would follow her and then back off. 
Then it was there again.  He felt it.  So did she.  It was like they might
really be on a breakthrough at any minute.  There she goes.  Death took
her.  Cody was dead.  Diane had knifed her.  You're fired.  Get out of
here while you still can.  Poking and dancing.  Float like a gnat and
suddenly you're dead.  How'd that work?  Cody lay curled up in front of
the computer.  It didn't work.  Did it?  nooooo. In a hurt little voice. 
Oh Gee, Hone y, I'm sorry.  Here, let me help you.  Don't touch me. 

	It had clobbered her, whatever it was.  Gnats were death.  But
maybe not just gnats.  Other bugs.  Lizzie carved her.  Cody shrieked. 

	The two women met as checkmates in a field of blue.  Checkmate. 
Do you have any idea what checkmate means?  It is not just defeat.  It is
a kind of defeat.  That could only be satisfied by a virgin.  You got to
be kidding.  No.  I mean it.  We have to c ut your heart out.  Lie down. 
Come on slave cody.  You're going for a ride.  Mud followed the fist that
followed the head as it withdrew like a ball and then bounced back again. 
They only show it every four years.  And then it attracts a mob of
fanatics .  They can't get enough of it.  Wham.  She caught it on the
chin.  The ball flew up and came down across her cunt like a bullet and
ended in between her ankles.  Cody crawled along the passage on her hands
and knees.  Is it like this?  No, It's like tha t.  Is this it, mum.  Yes. 
That looks like it.  Acutally there are ten of them, you know.  One woman
couldn't be in all those places at the same time.  Or could shee.  Let me
see if I have this straight, you're really Greta Garbo.  I always wondered
what happened to her.  You have the funniest thoughts when you're being
beat up.  It's like something's come loose and you don't care anymore.  I
mean, it hurts, but it's like you're outside watching.  Watching Cody. 
Get it.  And knowing everything that's ha ppening inside her.  And not
caring.  And then I look for the part of me that does care.  And it's like
another person named Cody.  Who I can torment and hurt.  I can even hold
her up in front of Gloria as she works me over, making my face and tits
more a ccessable.  Watching his fist coming at me, and knowing this isn't
me.  It's someone else.  A different pretty redhead with big knockers. 
Telling some guy to hit me.  And not being able to stop.  Oh god yeah.  O
god yeah do it.  Get away from me, bitch.  He kept hitting me to get me
off.  From coming for him.  Again and again.  Draining him.  Sucking him
dry.  WHAM Sure it hurt.  But it didn't hurt me.  It hurt Cody.  I was
just watching her nose disappear into the back of her head.  Being picked
up with a hand in your mouth and whipped against the ring post. 

	I don't know.  I feel like an old junkie.  Can't get high anymore. 
But what do you think?  Think I should quit?  There's lots of things I
haven't told yet.  Things a lot of congressmen would just as soon not have
me talk about.  How they got voter turno ut by promising free Cody.  Do
you know destroying a senator isn't hard to do.  You just have to put the
right spin on it -- and have the cameras running.  Yes, that's it.  A
little to the left.  Now you boys have got to be here at least a half hour
befor e he comes.  Rick.  Move that light over the door.  Don't block the
camera.  Nice view of the bed.  Right, Tex.  Well, of course its not done
exactly like that.  You learn a lot working crew.  I was on lighting.  I
didn't have a clue what I was doing.  T hey told me to lie down on the
bed.  I said, right.  Gotcha.  Would you like to lie down?  Are you tired? 
You must have had a hard day.  I knew all the phrases.  Hi mister.  Want
whoopi?  Now there's a thought.  She laughed.  You're not supposed to
laugh .  Whoops.  Sorry.  This one was into street fighting.  He wanted to
be a punk so bad.  He was the gang leader and she was supposed to be the
leader of the other gang, and they were supposed to rumble.  At first he
let her win.  And then it got to be a ha bit.  And then he had her
whipping his ass.  Then ... wear... leather.  That fist was going to come
from a long way back.  Each moment she took another faltering step towards
the abyss.  Wham.  Like lighting struck her.  Up between her legs.  A long
silve r cattle prod.  WQWHAM.  Her brains riccochetted between the insides
of her temporals.  It completely took her out.  It was a long walk home. 
I wished I was back in New York.  I began to see myself again.  Like a
motorcycle queen.  In black leather.  Wit h a whip.  And Wehrmacht cap. 
You know, with a big high front.  I wast ein fieldmarshalletten.  And this
was world war two.  Specifically the battle of Stalingrad, wherever that
is.  I hate war.  This guy had obviously been in the military police. 
Ther e are a lot of subtle ways a field marshall is different from a cop. 
He broke my final resistance.  There was a lot of mud.  Gloria was lifting
me into excelcies one more time.  WHAAMMMM.  She kept breaking the little
hustler back against the bar.  Cody tried to put up a fight, and Kelly
doubled her up.  I think we got that one.  It was like catching quarks
with your toes.  At CERN they are searching for the ultimate small thing,
and I was supposed to catch it.  You can imagine what that did to the rest
of me.  Trying to keep it all in.  The leather sheath they made for me. 
Tying me in.  Pressing my belly against my spine like another tit,
dividing it in half, into two mounds, each terminating in her cunt.  That
was how she pole danced.  Moving it up.  All the way to the ceiling. 
Holding it there.  Sliding back down.  Cody tried to kick her, but Kelly
was too fast for her.  Cody wasn't sure at first what had happened to her. 
Lizzie picked her up and slammed her down again.  Cody's 120 pounds wasn't
a ny match for the other.  It was like being beaten up by Roseanne.  Now
that would be total annihilation.  Roseanne would break her in two.  You
know about mushing?  This is a hundred times worse.  I had come completely
unstuck inside myself.  Lizzie could have sold this ride to Disney and
retired.  But she couldn't get enough of her own energy.  She was plugged
into it.  Going round and round again.  Two hundred thousand electron
volts playing with my tootsies.  Come on, Big Boy.  Ten cents a dance. 
You can imagine the ride I gave them.  The Swiss couldn't get enough. 
Everyone wanted to dance with me.  I was so beautiful.  Linda Echevarria,
eat your heart out.  Can you imagine the mail she must get?  People send
her everything.  Stories.  Carloads of wa termellons.  Bombs.  I opened
it.  Oh, thank you, Ted.  It was wonderful.  They bandaged my head
togetherr\ it was like being on TWA 800 man.  You could always go much
higher.  As far as you wanted.  And there would be death.  A gnat buzzing
against her f ace.  She brushed it off.  It came back.  She hit at it
again.  You could never get them.  Sometimes they came in clusters. 
Poking at her.  Buzzing around her.  She needed a bath.  She was covered
with flies.  The tractors held her in place.  Stretched o ut.  In
traction.  Their motors running.  Each making infinite adjustments back
and forth.  Stretching her out and then relaxing.  Then doing it again. 
Slowly at first.  But then faster.  Each driver carefully keeping in
control of how far out she could go without ripping.  Kelly watched. 
Every now and then testing to see how tight Cody was. 

	What she did was to pick up a handful of dirt and hold it over my
midriff in her fist.  And then let go one speck of dirt.  I would watch it
in fast forward as it entered me.  And then bounceed back.  The idea was
to see how small you could make it and I would still react.  I don't mean
to bore you, but I got that out of an old movie about a young woman in
Macao who was forced to work off her gambling debts as a whore in a
Chinese bordello.  I can't remember.  Not that.  Gridlock.  The whole
European pow er structure trembled.  Oh God, you should feel my abs. 
WHAMO.  Come on, guys, get done.  I have an appointment with my storyboard
editor.  Hello, James.  How are you?  She smiled at him.  He put his hand
on her side.  She felt his hand touching her ribc age.  La Cage aux
folles.  See it.  Raleigh, eat your heart out.  Naw naw.  They held it on
the state line.  Just over the border in Springfield.  Don't you adore,
Bert?  I can't get enough of him.  Alright.  Come out of there.  Take her
down by the dock and bury her.  See that no one sees you.  Now how am I
going to do that?> Every one is looking.  Like I'm some kind of freak.  I
didn't plan it this way.  I'm sorry.  Don't hit me.  It really doesn't
have anything to do with sex at all.  Like, this is no t erotic, fellows. 
I really mean it.  Fuck off.  Gerry!  Stop.  Life bore her onward against
the obstacles that flayed off her skin.  Carved her flesh.  I am but a
soft warm matchen in your power.  Sig Heil.  They loved it when I played
Nazi.  You can do anything to a nazi and not feel bad.  It's even better
if you're s.s.  They sang love songs to me as they turned me into strudel. 
In the end, I was Hitler's daughter.  And they were marching on Berlin. 
They held at the Elbe and the Russians took her.  I could tell you stories
about what they do to pretty concentration camp keepers when the war is
over.  Well, how was I supposed to know she was twelve.  Going back down
into the slut bucket of Europe.  Helga the bitch of Bitzberg got it first. 
Then Irm gard fell to the tank corps.  And I was next.  The Americans
threw me back. Please, I'll do anything.  General Patton will never know. 
She flailed at the barbed wire entangling her.  She was in deep trouble. 
She rang up her friend who was the Councelor General and asked for a
reprieve.  The search lights swept the frontier.  We've got to get out. 
Sorry.  Orders.  Sorry, mam.  Don't beg.  Cody was desperate.  I won't go
into that.  Orders.  Tell him it's her.  Tell her he can't come to the
phone.  Tell him she's desperate.  He smiled.  And let her go.  Cody
wiggled off.  Sometimes you catch them and you throw them back.  It's the
fishing that's important.  Not the fish. 

	Your's truly,




	It's there every morning when I open my eyes.  The first word I
think.  Slut.  Before all the others.  Slut.  Then comes "whore". 
"Tramp".  Pig.  Not very intelligent.  But then I'm not supposed to be. 
Am I?  "Dirty."  That gets used a lot, too.  Dirty slut.  Dirty whore.  As
I get more and more awake.  Before I realize what I'm doing and stop
myself.  Try to.  It's like trying to stop a runaway stagecoach.  You
know, like when the guy jumps down between the horses and tries to put on
the brakes.  You could really bust a heel doing that.  I see myself down
there, digging seven inch stilettos into the dirt, my legs buckling, going
down under the hooves.  Stinking bitch.  Being cut to ribbons. 



	Why am I doing this?

	I get up and look in the mirror.  Whore.  I look like death warmed
over.  Hair all over the place.  Black eyes.  Split lip.  Geez.  Tony
really got his ten dollars worth.  My shoulders feel like I have bowling
balls for tits.  I can't even touch them... 

	No.  Stop.  I don't want to do this anymore.

	There was something about your story, the way the woman was
treated, it made me feel strange.  Nothing like the way I see myself. 
Even when I changed the name.  Made her Cody.  The way the guy what's his
name, changed her insides.  Whatever happens to m e is always so dirty. 
So negative.  If you know what I mean.  It's almost as if I'm afraid to
have nice things happen to me.  Reading it, I thought, boy could I do a
number on myself with a machine like that.  I almost wished I'd thought of
it.  Maybe so meday I will.  A lot of my stories get complicated like
that.  Boy, do they get complicated.  It's like a cat getting tangled up
in a ball.  I get some really bizarre ideas.  But they're never nice like
yours was.  I think there's something wrong with me.  I just like to see
Cody get hurt.  Of course, I'm Cody.  But ... oh, I already explained all

	I don't know what to do.  They're always with me.  Running through
my mind.  The words for what I am.  I must be sick.  Lying there, next to
the pool.  They don't even have any meaning anymore.  Just noise.  Every
once in awhile, I sort one out.  "Filth. "  I'm not.  It's like trying to
argue with the air conditioner.  I'm home alone.  It's late afternoon.  I
look around.  The shadow from the house is creeping over the pool.  When I
was twelve, my step-brother Alex and his friends raped me here.  I was al
ready big with these things hanging on my chest.  Alex was ten.  I
wouldn't let them.  They dragged me over to the edge of the pool and
shoved my head under the water.  I fought and kicked.  I could feel them
pulling my bikini bottom down off my ass cheek s.  Then they pulled me up. 
I still kept fighting them, so they turned me over on my back, and Alex
got in the pool and pulled my head by the hair so my face was just out of
the water.  He would pull it under and then let it back up and then pull
it down again.  So I could never get a breath.  Then he would let me
breathe and then I was under water again.  After awhile, I didn't know
what was happening.  Joey or someone was feeling my tits.  And someone
else was fingering my cunt.  That's how they fucked me.  They took turns. 
One holding my head and the others giving it to me.  When they were done,
they watched me crawl around on the deck.  They had fucked me again and
again.  Boys can fuck forever.  They never get done.  These ones were just
resting be fore the next round.  I was crawling in front of them.  I
couldn't get up.  I was too scared.  Alex called me a whore.  They said my
breasts looked like pigs.  I was crying, but my wet hair was in my face so
you couldn't see.  I called Larry a bastard.  H e came over and grabbed my
hair and kicked me with his bare foot in the face.  It knocked me into the
pool.  They made me crawl out over the side like an animal.  I knew they
wanted to make me feel as dirty as they could.  Make me feel like they
wanted to see me.  I couldn't figure out what that was.

	What that was?

	Let me think.  Whatever it was, it was beautiful.  It had a
requisite of beauty.  The fact that I was the prettiest girl in school had
something to do with it.  The fact that I had long curly red hair and
green eyes was definitely a factor. 

	What does that mean?  The fact that I dressed like a tramp also
had something to do with it. 

	No.  Stop.  Stop.  Stop.  Shut it off.  Don't go on.

	She waived her hands in front of her head.  No.  No.  No.  No. 

	Alex came out of the house.  "What's the matter?"


	"Well then, why did you call?"

	"Nothing.  I'm sorry."

	He shrugged his shoulders and went back inside.  He could never
understand his sister.  She was crazy.  He honestly thought she was losing
control.  He just wished she'd go back to New York and leave him alone. 
He was tired of her fantasies.  And she co nstantly embarassed him in
front of his friends.  His mother hated her.  They had never been on good
terms, but lately, things had gotten poisonous. 

	Cody always parked her motorcycle right in the middle of the
driveway.  One day Luann had run over it.  Cody was furious.  Alex assured
her it was an accident.  He said he'd pay for it.  Fortunately, the
Mercedes had not badly damaged it.  They could ren t Cody a car while it
was in the shop.  They got her an XL200 converible.  Silver.  She almost
hated to have the cycle back.  So Alex agreed she could keep the car.  He
didn't get much thanks.  Cody still accused him of raping her when they
were kids, him and his pals, and acting as if she hadn't had anything to
do with it. 

	"What's the matter?"


	"It's her, isn't it?"

	"No.  It's nothing."

	"Maybe if I talk to her."

	"No!"  He could imagine what that would do.  Things were bad enough
as it is.  "Just forget it." 

	She had been so...  What?  Pretty?  Was that why he tormented her? 
Grabbed her.  Tried to pull her pants down.  Grabbed her tits.  Made fun
of them.  It felt good to squeeze them.  He liked seeing the look on her
face when he squeezed the nipple.  Or tw isted it.  Her whole face
wrinkled up.  And she'd make this funny noise.  Like she was sucking in
wind.  And going "ow" at the same time.  Was that pretty?  No.  It was
something else.  But what?  He liked it more than when she was pretty. 
But it wasn't really ugly, either.  Or even in between.  It was more like
a different dimension.  It would happen so fast.  Then you'd do something
else to her.  And she'd do it again.  Sometimes even more.  You could
change it.  Make it more or less.  Whatever it was.  The little girl
twisted away.  Alex liked little girls.  He liked studying them.  It was
something he'd always wanted to do.  He ran a lot of experiments on Cody. 
Was that it?  That she was interesting?  She kept him interested.  All the
little things she did.  Like squirm on the pool deck after they had raped
her.  That was cute.  Or the way she crawled when she gave them each a
blow job.  She was good at that, too.  That twelve-year-old mouth had a
real talent.  She was a pig. 

	Like an animal.  Another component of Cody's overall makeup.  She
was incredibly beautiful and yet she was like a dirty animal.  She
belonged in the dirt.  It embarassed him to have a sister like that. 
Especially at school.  He made a practice of making people know how
disgusting he thought she was.  He didn't want to be associated with her. 
He wanted them to know that.  So he told everyone Cody was a filthy whore. 
Cody would let anyone fuck her.  Even dogs.  After school, he made her
prove it. 


	Jesus, she's really going to do it.

	Stop it!  Oh god, please stop.  I don't want to....

	It's like trying to claw my way up when they held my head in the
water.  Coming up for air.  I nearly lost consciousness.  Oh God, don't do
this to me.  It hurt to live again.  I wanted to stay down forever.  He
pulled me up.  My lungs pumped frantically for air.  And then I was down
again.  Stop it!!!!!!! 

	"Going out?"

	"I'm just going downtown."

	I rode into Miami.  A club on Trail.  After I was fifteen, Alex
let me alone.  My step mother's boy friend took over.  This was before my
father died.  That's why she hates me.  Well, he was more my age than
her's.  I forgot.  What were we talking about?  I get a little spacy.  My
low self esteem?  Your story?  What I'm wearing.  Right.  What turns you
on?  Black leather.  Tight skirt.  Low blouse.  Wehrmacht Cap.  I get
tired of descriptions.  What I look like.  What I'm wearing.  I'm tired of
the whole schmeer.  I want to do something else.  This sucks.  It's
boring.  Why can't I write something important?  Yes, my father was the
state senator.  No.  Actually, I'm not anything.  I guess you could say
I'm a democrat.  But I don't vote.  What for?  I thi nk Clinton sucks. 
Look what he did.  He killed welfare.  I mean, he's gonna.  That sucks. 
What are those people going to do?  Thigh high boots.  I forgot those. 
Black leather.  And fishnet stockings.  Stop it. 

	I slapped his hand away.  He'd been trying to grab my tit. 
Actually, he had his hand up under it and was lifting it.  He slapped my
face.  Back handed me.  Then pushed me back against the bar.  I'd been
trying to have a serious conversation, and all he wanted was to feel me
up.  aaaagggggh.  And hurt me. 

	Oh God, the poor people never had it like that.  He beat me to a
pulp.  I didn't know what I was thinking when he got done.  No.  Wait.  It
wasn't supposed to be like this.  WHAM.  Was I remembering or was I
dreaming?  I ran some water into the sink and dipped my hands into it. 
The water came up cool and refreshing and I wet my face with it.  I pissed
in my hands and had to lick it.  I was clawing at consciousness, trying to
wake up.  His fists hit me again and again.  I knew it was this.  This was
what made it, held it together.  He stopped and I fell on the floor.  They
just watched me for a long time.  While I crawled around.  My yellow silk
dress was up around my waist.  There were marks all over my boobs.  I
don't know why they didn't kill me.  Tha t would end it.  They wanted to
keep playing.  Game wasn't over until Cody died.  She was dead.  Her
emaciated body thrown down a flight of stairs into the courtyard where the
dogs could tear her.  Her gigantic tits flopped and rolled arcross her
ribs and belly.  The knife cut her open.  She fell on the floor.  Come in
here.  He barked.  Kelly came into the room.  She looked exactly like the
dead girl on the floor.  Come on.  Give me the gun.  Her prints were all
over it.  She had to obey.  She stepped ov er the corpse and knelt at her
feet.  First they had to undress her.  It was almost like beiing an
undertaker.  They took her down the steps.  She touched Cody's left
breast.  The girl breathed.  Then her other.  She breathed again.  The
girl came to.  Wh ere am I>?  Now we'll find out.  Come in Cheese.  Cheese
made an opening and they passed the girl through.  The remains were found
in an icebox down in the quarry.  She was alive when she went into it. 
The next time he saw her, she was dead.  Someone had put a contract on
her.  You move up a post.  Got that?  Of course.  Bippo come in.  Monty
you stand over there.  He won't be back.  Why not?  Because he's dead. 
Cody stood up and walked over to the door.  Thanks for the ride, Sucker. 

	Dead men walking.  There are a lot of those.  You've got to
remember where the battlezone is.  And where it isn't.  She dived for
cover.  Someone turned and shouted.  The Harley jumped the fence and took
off.  She came down on an oil slick and skidded in to the drums.  The
whole place went up.  The men were out there with the ack-ity acs.  Right. 
Guys who couldn't get enough of Cody.  She sucked them dry on the wet
parking lot.  They were like a gang of gas tanks ready to explode.  Take
her down.  She fo und herself on her butt in the dirt.  You stinker.  She
came up and a fist took her out.  Blood from her broken nose colored the
water.  They fucked her again.  The blonde took her out.  Onto the dance
floor.  Cody was a gawky fawn vibrating under her udd ers.  Her tits hung
down.  Kelly showed her off.  How much am I bid?  Wiggle your ass, slut. 
Move your pretty white ass all over the place.  She applied the cattle
prod.  The high stepping teenager danced around the stage.  Cody lay on
the pool deck with her eyes closed, remembering how it had been.  She felt

	I got up and went in the house and tried to wash it off.  I didn't
want to get hurt anymore.  So I just kept showering and

And what?


	What was it.  You must remember.

	I don't know.  There wasn't anything.  Oh, that's a lie.  There
was lots of things.  Yeah.  Yeah sure.  Like going to school.  Like, give
me a blowjob.  Stop talking so much and get on your knees.  Oh god, why? 
Just get off me.  You're hurting me.  That hurts.  They all convey pain. 
What was happening to me.  But I couldn't feel it.  I knew it was
happening, but it was like it was someone else.  Not me.  Shut up and keep
sucking.  That's it.  He didn't care how I felt.  I was just raw meat. 
Carlos tho ugh was a different story.  Carlos was deeply concerned with
every nuance of my feelings as he drove me through a wall head fist. 
Without breaking my skull.  He wanted to know exactly how I felt.  So he
could make it worse.  Carlos is a sadistic madman.  He lives and dreams
about conveying his name to posterity like deSade and Sacher-Mascoch. 
Unfortunately, his name is Smith.  Which doesn't exactly ring bells. 
Smithism.  Not the same thing, is it?  He was a Smithist.  Boy, does that
set 'em off.  Not. 

	That's the difference between pain and feeling.  Pain is where
feeling breaks down.  It comes apart at the seams.  Cody was completely
naked.  She came up for air.  Her session with Carlos cost a thousand
dollars.  She paid it off by

	Yes?  What is it?

	I just realized.  I'm a whore.

	Now we're getting somewhere.  What kind of whore>?

	Cody flailed her arms.  I think I hit Joey Butt in the face. 
Stink Butt.  That's what we called him.  He pressed it down on my face.  I
had to eat him.  Want to see how I did it?  I've got a really long tongue. 
Want to see it?  Want to fuck it?  Fuck m y face.  Go on and do it.  Make
believe it's a cunt.  I can do things with my mouth you will never get
from a cunt.  I sat there licking my lips with my tongue, pushing it out. 
Showing my teeth.  Letting him imagine what I could do.  And then I got
down and started opening his fly.  Real slow.  Getting into the smell of
his underpants.  Oh god, how ugly.  I was going nuts for his cock, up
inside me, and here I was asking to suck his dick with my mouth.  I was
having a war inside.  I wanted to be fucked i n the worst way, but my
stupid mouth kept getting in the way, saying it wanted it.  Fuck me.  No. 
Shut up.  Fuck my hole.  Begging for it.  Taking it in.  Wrapping my lips
around it, forcing them to shutup.  Tapping the underside of the nubbin
with my tongue stud.  Hi.  Want to dance? 

	Everything I had in my cunt came through my mouth.  It was like an
oil strike.  A geyser of raw fucking fury coming up through my insides and
out my mouth.  Powder Puff, you should have seen his face when I got done. 
That nigger didn't know what hit him .  I love sucking black cock.  You
know, I'm O. J.'s alibi.  He was with me the night it happened.  Boy, was
he confused when he got to Chicago and found out his old lady was dead. 
How'd I do that, he wondered as he flew back to Hollywood.  I was playing
golf.  Wasn't I? 

	I get such weird ideas.

	My stomach hurts.  I'm hungry.  I went and got something to eat. 
Okay.  There's no more. 

	The kindness expressed in your letter was deeply moving.  I'm not
sure how to respond to it.  I'm usually pretty good with words, but
lately, they've gotten all bunched up inside, or when they come out, they
don't seem to mean anything. 
	People have reached out and tried to help me before, but always
I've rejected them.  Like I don't need this.  I can take care of myself. 
And I can, but... 
	See.  It's bullshit. 
	Cody Ann is bullshit.  A little word whore with nothing really
important to say.  Maybe I am braindead. 
	The last week has been pretty intense.  Kelly came down.  She's
staying with us.  That put Alex in his place.  He's afraid of her.  We lay
out by the pool and make love in the hot afternoons.  Kelly couldn't
believe what had happened to me.  She completely blamed Alex. 
	Oh shit, I can't stand this.  Forget it.  It's so unbelieveably
	Alex said he hadn't had anything to do with it.  Which, in a way,
is true.  Alex hasn't touched me since my dad died.  He's really not into
big girls.  I was fifteen at the time.  He just wanted to show me who was
boss.  Him and Luanne.  That's his mothe r.  I already wrote about that in
another story.  I can't go back and do it again.  It's so fucking boring. 
If you want, I'll send it to you.  Kelly was in jail at the time. 
Otherwise she would have cut his fucking balls off.  She still blames him
for me being so fucked up. 
	He just about shit when she got out of the cab and walked up the
driveway.  Kelly was wearing his favorite costume.  A deputy sheriff's
uniform with a short skirt and high heeled boots.  I don't know who was
happier to see her, me or Alex. 
	I think I told you, Alex is into little girls.  I mean little
little girls, like I was when... 
	Alex achieved puberty early.  I think he was seven or eight.  He
just started coming and his balls dropped.  And he got interested in
girls.  I mean, really interested.  Like obsessed.  But I think he
fixated.  Because he never grew up.  His body got older, but he's still
fucking little girls.  Which in Florida can be a big problem. 
	Guys in Florida who fuck little girls have to be punished. 
	Which is where Kelly came in. 
	Alex is carrying a lot of guilt.  Which goes all the way back to
what he did to me.  Which included, for one thing, turning me over to
	I was in the eighth grade.  I already had a large pair of Florida
honey-dews hanging off my chest.  And my legs had gotten real long.  I
felt like a colt that has just come out of the womb and is trying to stand
up.  Especially in high heels.  I don't kn ow why I was wearing grownup
lingerie and stockings in the eighth grade.  It just seemed like the thing
to do.  Girls like to show off.  My brother was a pain in the butt, too. 
He was always telling people I was a whore.  Which embarassed me.  I
wasn't.  They made me do that. 
	But I was like always on display.  I walked around and I always
felt like people were staring.  Looking at me.  Like I was the center of
attention.  The focus of the class.  Like they was looking through me at
someone else.  Kelly. 
	Kelly was an inverted image of me.  I knew it as soon as I saw
her.  Her hair was like a medusa of coiling copper snakes.  She was
wearing boots.  And carrying a whip.  They said she had had disciplinary
problems in another class.  So they put her in her e.  I stared at her. 
And then saw that she was white trash and walked away. 
	Her smell followed me home.  The next day, I could sense her all
around me.  Closing in.  Trying to get at me.  Taking the tip of my nipple
off with the tip of her whip. 
	They would trade me back and forth across the demarcation of their
turfs.  Like they were playing tennis.  Kelly would send me home with her
wounds, and Alex would reply with his.  Each day I was like a Christmas
parcel of cuts and bruises ready to be ex ploited.  It was like they made
love to each other through me.  Kelly and her pals used to like to dress
me up in black lingerie which she got from the boutique her mother worked
for.  And then beat me to a pulp.  Alex liked to examine the damage and
add to it in his perverse little way.  He was a real sadist. 
	In the morning I would be returned to Kelly, who would make me pay
for being a whore. 
	All day long, I followed her around like a dog.  On a leash.  I
was Kelly's dog.  Before she came, I had been class monitor.  But now I
was Kelly's bitch dog. 
	My head's spinning.  I just realized I hold my breath when I'm
writing.  Which may account for something.  Alex needed to tell her about
Casandra.  Oh yeah.  That was his latest.  Eleven.  Beautiful dark brown
hair and grey eyes.  I could see why he like s her.  Oh God.  Kelly rolled
her eyes backward.  Not now.  I just got here.  Fuck you, pervert. 
	Hello Luanne.  She threw her arms around my step mother.  I felt
betrayed.  Kelly knows how much I hate...  Luanne hates me.  Well, they
came from the same side of the tracks.  My father.... 
	I stood there in the doorway, feeling strange.  Like it wasn't
anger, but not really.  It was anger.  Boiling rage.  My lover and
step-mother in bed together.  I hate you, Kelly. 
	And this was back then.  Now they're even more inseparable.  It's
like Kelly is the step-daughter Luanne always wanted.  And couldn't get. 
Because of me.  It gets complicated. 
	Do you always write with your nose closed?  Someone asked at a
lecture I was at.  And I said I hadn't noticed.  Then someone asked about
my eyes.  I said I was blind folded.  How about my ears.  Silenced.  Then
how?  I said you've seen Star Wars, haven't you?  In that moment Cody
entered into enlightenment.  They were sword practicing.  And she stopped. 
And Kelly stabbed her.  And Cody fell into the swimming pool.  And the
water got all red.  She was down there a long time before someone dragged
her out .  Maybe she got brain damage.  Deprevation of oxygen is a serious
condition.  It can make you think funny thoughts.  Like, I'm lying on the
bottom of a swimming pool stretched out with my belly bleeding, and no one
is doing anything. 
	The stunning redhead climbed painfully up the ladder, clutching
her belly.  Alex met her at the top with a kick in the face.  Tons of
images flashed through her mind.  I saw all of them.  Myself as the high
school prom queen.  Kelly was my date.  I saw m yself in the Atlanta
Olympics practicing rhythmic gymnastics.  That was me.  For Rhode Island. 
I couldn't get on the American team, so I went with Rhode Island's.  As a
weight lifter.  That was me with the ball.  You know, when you throw it up
in the air and it comes down, skims my crotch and stops dead between my
ankles.  You have no idea what it feels like, but the crowd goes nuts.  I
got a 9.88. 
	Olga got the gold. 
	Svetlana got the silver. 
	And Gundrud got the bronze. 
	And I got screwed. 
	What are you fucking talking about? 
	I was just thinking about Atlanta. 
	What about it? 
	I got fucked by the judges. 
	What else is new? 
	And they fucked me. 
	What do you mean?  Hand me the lotion. 
	I didn't get a medal. 
	But I'll bet you got a gold star.  Do my back. 
	I soaked her back with golden olive oil extract, feeling how her
ribs stuck out of her emaciated body, slipping my hands under to fondle
her big tits.  Kelly moaned.  I thought how interesting it would be if I
was using Drano instead.  What her reaction would be.  I imagined Kelly
throwing herself into the pool in a futile attemp to stop the burning.  I
imagined her begging me to help her.  Trying to climb back over the side
of the pool.  And kicking her in the mouth.  Or pouring more Drano on her
pretty supermodel face.  I didn't think I'd have the guts. 
	But some time you just have to do what you got to do.  I said,
excuse me.  I have to go in the house.  Kelly said to go in the pool.  I
said I didn't mean that kind of going.  Kelly said not to leave her.  I
said I'd only be gone for a minute.  Kelly tie d me to a pool chair and
perched it out on the diving board.  Then she and Luanne went into town to
shop.  I fried.  I was there for six hours.  In the hot sun.  With my head
pulled backwards -- she'd done a really super knot job -- and my legs
spread wid e apart.  Part of the chair protected me from the glare.  But
not my cunt or face.  I didn't dare move, because of the precarious
balance.  If I fell in, I would not be able to get out.  I wiggled, trying
to keep my crotch from being cooked.  But there wa s no escape.  Unless I
decided to go in the pool and take my chances. 
	I was scared.  I didn't want to.  But after a couple of hours, it
seemed the only way out.  I was crazy.  I would do anything.  Fuck me. 
Fuck me, I screamed.  It was the only way to get cover.  On a diving board
it is real special.  Especially if they h ave natural rhythm.  The hotter
they get, the better it is.  It's a whole olympic event in its own rite. 
You don't even get a medal. 
	Those are the real olympics.  Where there are no medals.  Just
pure hot sex.  I was going up and down, and he was going down and down and
up, and it got very confusing.  Then he introduced a four beat, and his
band came in in the background.  Lester Lani n.  And the Hup Cats.  Big
local group.  Hire out for garden parties.  And Luanne is fucking the
drummer.  Except now he was fucking me.  Out on the diving board.  While
the other guests were in the house.  Luanne followed them out and looked
at what they were looking at.  It was not a pretty sight. 
	So now she hates me.  I was only fourteen.  It wasn't my fault. 
	She didn't much like me fucking with her son, either.  She said I
led him astray.  Put bad thoughts in his head.  Which is bullshit.  He
learned that stuff all on his own.  I'm the one who suffered.  If she
didn't want Joey fucking me, why didn't she say so.  Well, she did.  But
afterward.  Right there in front of everyone.  Luanne had a shrieking
hellfit.  She was such trash.  I was embarassed. 
	I said he raped me.  Luanne told me to shut up and go to my room. 
I could see no one believed me.  Suddenly someone put a hand on my
shoulder.  It was Luke.  Luke said he believed me.  Which is just great. 
Luke is a total loser.  Who cares what he beli eves?  I smiled and thanked
him.  But I was dying inside.  I'd have felt better if he'd hit me.  But I
knew he wouldn't.  He was the class nerd.  My dress was soaked.  I had
fallen into the pool.  And my hair was a fucking mess.  The next thing I
knew, Lu ke hit me and I went flying backwards and hit my head on the
ladder railing.  She nearly tripped.  I'm waiting for her.  Now.  Go on,
Darling and dance.  She danced.  Up on the bar with her panties showing. 
Pretending to be a hooker.  I'm not.  This isn' t me.  My self image
shattered in the glass as the mirror broke.  Hormone picked me off the
floor.  Hormone is the butler.  He cleans up the next day.  Cody was
sprawled across the sofa, her face white.  She'd never thought of herself
that way.  Snow Whit e.  Happenstance.  She choked on an apple.  Courtney
shoved it in her mouth.  They had to use a hammer to get it in.  The girls
were gunning for each other on the super highway called home.  What was he
saying.  He was called home.  Who was?  Arny.  The g uy they're burying. 
Oh is that who that was?  I thought it was a table.  Shut up. 
	You didn't write that? 
	I did. 
	What did he say? 
	I think he's still spinning. 
	Let me see what you're talking about.  I left everything to
Victor.  Of course.  Why not?  Victor, you old dog, you.  I'm coming for
you.  There was a shootout on Main Street.  An endless turmoil of
shootouts.  She had participated in so many.  And the s pecial effects
were not put in afterward. 
	It was all real. 
	Her jaw cracked on the concrete. 
	Kelly just so loved punching Cody out.  Later, they became lovers. 
	wha... what happened? 
	You got knocked out. 
	By who? 
	The man who hit you. 
	I've counseled a lot of young women, Cody, but never anyone like
you.  My, what pretty legs you've got.  No, Vic.  Don't.  Afterwards, she
forgot about those scenes in the bedroom.  She'd been going there before
his wife died.  Oh my God, don't tell that .  They were both a couple of
perverts.  She was in her eighties.  And so was he. 
	What they did to the child, I can't tell you.  It was awful. 
Don't bring her here.  Keep her outside.  Now, come in.  How nice to see
you.  Won't you sit down?  I like your hair.  He touched her.  She looked
at him.  Another one.  She sat down and cross ed her legs. 
	That was when he made the remark about her breasts.  And they
stood straight out.  Cody had a problem.  Every time someone looked at her
tits, they got bigger.  Cody couldn't control them.  So they would get big
every time she thought about sex.  And the n he'd touch her.  And they
would go down.  Like with Luke.  He turns me off.  I can't get interested. 
Even after he hit her.  That was it.  He had hit her.  After that, she was
brain dead. 
	Kelly made him take full responsibility. 
	Then she punished him for the ones this time. 
	Monster.  Pervert.  And so on.  She called him every name in the
book.  Alex groveled in the driveway.  Kelly didn't care one way or the
other what he did.  But she had a lot of damages to collect on for
herself.  Alex had to dress up in one of my father 's suits and pretend to
be Crawford.  It was hilarious.  The last time I had seen my father was in
the coffin.  That's when Alex made me have sex with him.  Right there in
the coffin.  When the guests -- the mourners -- walked in.  Oh God, you
should hav e seen Luanne's face.  But she's a lady.  She took it all in
stride.  Cody had had to come down and stand in the reception line.  As
Crawfood's daughter.  Everyone knew her.  She was the belle of the county. 
Hi.  Glad you could come.  This is my brother, Alex.  Hi.  So nice to see
you.  I've just been fuckihg the corpse.  Glad you could come.  Oh hi.  My
father talked a lot about you.  I could send you to jail for twenty years. 
Alex, this is Mr. Spofford.  I had her in there.  Shut up.  They dragged
me through the bars of Miami's South Beach.  I was special.  Shut up! 
	I'm going nuts, remembering.  I don't know who's against me.  All
alone.  Here.  Where?  Come over here.  He put his arm around her and
dragged her into the booth.  Cody fought like hell.  That's what he had
paid for.  He wanted her to fight.  Desperatel y.  Before he killed her. 
No.  Cody backed away.  They kept coming.  She climbed into the coffin. 
They closed it.  Stop it. 
	I'm sitting on the pool deck, with my word processor.  The sun is
bright, but I'm under the roof of the porch.  Alex is away.  Kelly and
Luanne went to the mall.  I'm alone.  I feel totally alone.  Everything
else is still.  Maybe I've gone deaf.  No.  I t makes a noise when I move
the knife.  It isn't me.  It's something else.  Sucking the sound out of
the air.  The hot summer air.  Makes a good extract.  I rub it over her. 
She starts to quiver, then lies still.  Then opens her eyes.  Then all
hell brea ks lose.  I didn't even try to hold her.  I didn't want to get
it on me.  Medusa coils of Kelly's hair whipped the air around her head. 
Her face registered a number of complections.  Get it off of me.  I
couldn't.  Even if I could, I wouldn't.  I wanted to see her in deep pain. 
Kelly threw herself at me.  But I jumped away.  She was clawing her skin. 
Pulling off great handfulls of it.  She was a maiden possessed.  She threw
herself at the chain link fence and brounced off.  She hurled herself at
it aga in.  Shrieking at the top of her choking lungs.  Kelly ran about
the pool deck, knocking over furniture, and falling into the roses. 
	She went back to the fence, trying to get out.  The links sunk
deeply into her charred breasts.  She was like that other, what do you
call it, it starts with m.  Melissa?  No.  Media.  Yeah.  They roasted
her.  Or was it?  I forget.  Anyway, she had a cl oak of many colors, and
when she put it on, they threw her into the pit.  Kelly was covered with
Drano and she went in the pool. 
	The chlorine just made it worse.  I sat on a bar stool and
watched.  When Alex came running out to see what was happening, I blew him
away with the shotgun.  Fucking pervert.  Child molester.  Florida
justice.  Luanne was last.  I saved the best for last .  She was in the
bedroom.  I put the shotgun between her whore legs -- and worked it up. 
Pretty soon half of it was inside her.  And I had the hand on the trigger. 
My father's shotgun. 
	I could see the fear in her eyes.  And the pleading.  She started
to grind her hips, making love to it.  I don't think she could help
herself.  She was just that kind of a whore slut.  The bed under her was
soaked with cunt drool.  Luanne wrapped her leg s around the double
barrel.  All his life, my daddy suffered from a condition of premature
ejaculation.  Through the open window, I could still hear her girl friend
choking and begging.  I said it's been an intense week.  I'm coming back
to New York next week. 
	I suppose, just to avoid having a swat team kick my door down in
the middle of the night, I should add the disclaimer that all of the above
is a story, like in fiction.  It didn't happen.  And isn't going to. 
Although, who knows, I never make anything up.  Life is a cliche. 
Everything I've ever written comes from the movies or newspapers. 

	"Having said that, let me also note that I am concerned about Cody
(be she real or fictional), and that I have come to care for her over the
course of our correspondence.  I think that she is deserving of more
compassion (and perhaps even respect) than y ou have shown her.  I *know*
that she is deserving of more understanding on your part." -- Bill
	"By the way look what you did here (quoting me):
	  'The kindness expressed in your letter was deeply moving.  I'm  
not sure how to respond to it.  I'm usually pretty good with words, but
lately, they've gotten all bunched up inside, or when they come out, they
don't seem to mean anything.'
	"Can you see it.....two lines and you sound like an actual person!" 
-- Rick
	"You *must* believe that you are worth more than bullshit - I can
tell that you are. But somehow you have to break loose - or you will
regret it very much in twenty years (as I told you before) - and believe
me you will still be horny lovely woman when y ou are forty - I know that
seems a ridiculuous thing to say, but it isn't."  -- Keith

	Sigh.  And what makes you think I'm going to make it to forty?

	I know that's melodramatic.  And you are all, no doubt,
collectively right.  I do deserve more.  I just don't know how to get it. 

	Understanding?  What begetteth understanding?  I forget.  Parson
Collins would have known.  But I don't feel like remembering that now.  In
fact, I don't feel like remembering anything. 

	When I got off the plane, they took me to the hospital.  I was
hemmoraghing massively.  Every opening in my body was plugged up.  I
hadn't shit in a week.  The doctors said my colon was punctured in three

	Doesn't this bore you?  Who wants to hear about my troubles?  God,
I was sick.  My hair was litterlly streaming down my face.  The only thing
keeping me going was the drugs.  I O-Ded in the first class toilet.  The
pilot radioed ahead to have an ambulanc e waiting on the tarmac.  They
didn't even go to the terminal.  I guess it saved my life. 

	I keep clawing my way up out of the cesspool.  Like I'm trying to
return to the land of the living dead.  My parents' world.  You know,
where everyone... 

	Thank you for saying I write well.  I don't feel like I do.  Right
now, I haven't the slightest idea what to write.  Or what to write about. 
I'm not trying to write well or even tell stories.  I'm trying to find
something out.  Maybe it's what you're telling me.  I don't want to hurt

	The stewardesses were very nice.  They said it didn't matter I'd
thrown up all over their nice clean plane.  I don't know where all that
puke came from.  I hadn't eaten for four days.  Unless you count the two
Miami Dolphins the night before who shit in my face and made me eat it. 
One of the stewardesses said she had all my c-ds.  I think she thought I
was Tori Amos. 

	I am Cody Ann Michaels.  I am not Bob Dole talking about Bob Dole. 

	Wait a minute.

	You know, it's funny.  I'm not a bad person.  And I don't go
around like someone out of a Greek tragedy shrieking that the world is
coming to an end.  People like to be with me.  I have a lot of fun.  I had
a good time writing most of these stories.  But what I can't figure out is
why none of that comes through.  It's like Cody is always like the clown
who gets it in the face.  The pie full of shit.  Why is that? 

	I don't have anything to tell you tonight.  At the hospital, they
were fascinated with my insides.  The interns took hours giving me a
colonoscopy.  And making sure I didn't have breast cancer.  Do you know
those guys work eighty hours a week?  Is that n uts?  These are people who
have the lives of dozens, maybe hundreds of people in their hands, and
they're wandering around looped out of their minds with sleep deprivation. 
At one point, they thought I was Crusty the Clown. 

	This is the kind of thing I want to write about.  Medicine, the
way we practice medicine in this country, is nuts.  One doctor asked me
where I got my training.  I said John Hopkins. 

	They're all on pills.  Uppers.  Downers.  Out of towners.  The
latest is TWA 800.  That's its street name.  You could get anything there. 

	This is where I start telling my brain to shut up.  I don't want
to go on like this.  Yadadiyadadiya da.  daaaaa. 

	What do you want to hear about?  Tits.  Ass.  Sucking cock?  The
Dolphins?  All the cliche things a guy can do to a girl?  God, it poured
out of me.  Afterward, I felt empty.  Like there was nothing inside.  I
lay there in the dark and stared up at the ceiling.  Where was this?  The
morgue?  An operating room?  The basement?  A locker at Grand Central? 
Oh, they don't have those anymore, do they?  I got to thinking about all
the places someone could hide a body.  If it was me. 

	I didn't mean to be mean.  (One of you will know what I mean.) I
just don't like to be intellectualized.  There's a difference between
saying something and talking. 

	I'm blank.  Completely.

	I'm trying to think.  Why do I do this?  I've got to put some
limits on my life.  I mean, it's one thing to have a broomstick up your
butt, but did he have to break it first?  Oh, I know.  It's because the
pain makes it real.  Yeah.  The only time I know I'm alive is when I hurt. 

	Funny.  I'm getting dressed.  I was thinking.  Why some people are
like that.  Especially me.  Kelly picked out a little white silk tube for
me to wear.  It's practically transparent.  And tight.  Everything sticks
out.  And shows through.  And black und erwear.  No.  Kel. 

	I don't want to.

	My shrink wants me to look at these sessions with Kelly and figure
out why I always let her boss me around.  We're the same age and size. 
There's no reason why Kelly should always have the upper hand. 

	"You're also smarter than she is."

	I said I didn't know.

	"Weren't you an all-A student?"

	"Well, yes."

	"And Kelly is a high school dropout.  Right?"


	"So you're better than she is.

	"Aren't you?

	"Well, aren't you?"

	"I guess so."

	"Kelly is an animal."

	Lizabeth crossed her legs.  She hates Kelly.  I sometimes wondered
about what Lizabeth would do to Kel if she could.  I asked Kelly if I was
supposed to wear boots or shoes.  The limo was going to be here at ten
thirty.  Kelly said the seven inch heels w ith padlocks on the ankle
straps.  Long black gloves.  A short green cape.  The governor was going
to be there.  Try to act natural.  Only Maroi;lyn dfasgag gfz what
ja[[jha[[emned it was fabulus Did you see Pataki? 

kelly put her in the bathtub
she was bleeding profusely
don't bring her in here
from deep in the bowels of the tranchcoat's mouth
he turned her out
inside out

	He has a blonde girl, preferably short and slim, staked out above
a pit. He uses muscle relaxant injections to permit him to get his whole
arm up the girl's cunt, then proceeds to force his hand up through into
her body cavity. With the aid of just a sca lpel, he turns the girl inside
out, pulling her innards out through her cunt. He is very skilled and the
girl survives for an agonisingly long time. -- Kyle

	Cody, you shouldn't have done that.

Im sorry
what did I do
someone has to pay
maybe you
	Like I waited for him to come back
don't you know?
what now?
i looked at him
and smiled
Come on bundy, hit her again
why do you think she looks like that.
because of what he done to her
WQhy do you think I come on like this?

Like my father is a total boob
the minute the lights go off, BAM
right in the kisser
he cleans the studio up with her
and she crawls right back.
And I hit her again.
And she crawls back
and I hit her again
and she keeps on coming back

	Get up on your feet, Cody.  You can walk.  Get up.  Get the fuck
up, bitch.  And she gets up.  All by herself.  No one makes her do it. 
She doesn't have to get up.  It's sort of fun watching her try.  Come on,
Cody.  You can make it.  Get up.  Get up.  Get up.  There wasn't much left
of the yellow dress she'd insisted on wearing. 

	I stared at myself in the mirror.  What was I doing?

	I suppose you wonder why I'm voting for Dole.  Right?

	Well, first off, the idea of an old man who dumped his wife and
neglected his only child while he was trying to suck up to Dick Nixon,
telling young people how they should raise their kids is mildly
exhilarating.  By the time Dole gets out of office, thi s country will be
flying.  For one thing most people who vote are just like Clinton.  They
know he knows all their routines, because he's been there himself.  So the
only escape is old Dole.  Who everyone can get around.  The old fool.  But
the congressme n are scared.  Because he was one of them.  And they know
he knows all their games.  So the country is hanging in the balance
between who knows and who knows what.  Has anyone noticed, Bob Dole has a
claw for a hand?  I mean, nobody mentions it.  They don 't know whether
it's his real hand or a protestic device to which various implements can
be attached.  Like a rotor.  With a dildo on it.  Very few actually know. 
There's his doctor.  And Lizabeth, his wife.  Lizabeth one.  And Lizabeth
two.  They were b oth named Elizabeth.  Dole kept them separated in his
memories.  There's an idea for you.  A character named Dole.  Who has two
wives who both have the same name.  What do you think his thoughts would
be like?  Beckett.  Kafka.  All those guys.  Joyce.  W hat they could do
with old Dole.  Yeah.  It sort of makes you think.  Maybe I'd better not
make fun of him.  I wonder if it hurts.  Especially when he takes it off
at night.  And how the pain affects his mind.  Maybe he's not so bad after
all.  He's just trying.  You got to give him points for that.  He's doing
the best he can.  Just like J.R.  He was our first crippled president. 
Only no one knew.  And after the war, they were all surprised they had
been dealing with a cripple.  They never forgave him.  Now they want to
put him in a wheelchair.  To show he was crippled.  But when he was alive,
he never knew he was crippled.  No one told him.  He just thought it was
meant to be this way.  And everyone believed him.  He was so good with
words.  After the war, it was like waking up and finding out you were
working a corner in downtown Berlin.  Just across the line from the
Russian sector.  It drove them mad. 

	What had happened?  I wondered.  Oh yeah.  Come and get me, tutsi. 
Those who tried died trying to cross the line.  The Americans killed them. 
Later, they built the wall.  To protect themselves.  From getting out.  I
don't know.  Suddenly it all made se nse.  I knew where I was going.  My
mother deflected.  Solid state particles hummed in the distance.  I was
getting out.  TWA take me awaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. 

	I had the ability to examine past lives.  The trouble was, I
wasn't sure which was mine.  I mean, they all looked alike.  Covered with
green and gold marti gras makeup that had been stowed in the haul.  How
had that got all over them if the explosion was supposed to have been at
the front of the plane?  And which one was Kelly?  The one still
breathing.  Kelly, what happened?  Are you sure this is Kelly?  They
showed me her dental records.  Actually, they were mine.  Kelly's teeth
were full of cavities.  Mine were perfect.  I didn't like to touch her. 
Okay.  Take her back to the apartment.  We'll figure it out later.  Eddie
walked her down the steps.  Kelly was babb;ling something about...  Yes,
Kel, we know.  Shut up.  Let me think.  And don't forget t he whip.  Oh
God, why me?  Because that's what he asked for.  That's not what I said. 
Why me?  Why not you?  You could go.  They'll never know the difference. 
Cody, cupcake.  Look at me.  I raised my eyes.  And she slapped my face. 

	I was crying by the time they came for me.  The girl took me
downstairs.  And passed me into the car. 



Give me a number and we'll talk sweets...just a payphone I can call you 
at in a hotel or something. Think about it and I'll call you Monday. 
I'll be out from tomorrow till then.  I've thought alot about your 
bones and cartilage snapping under my touch...your squirming and crying 
as I slowly destroy your body and watch the look of pleasure in your 
eyes as they roll back in your head... I want you beneath me...I have 
ways to give you what you want that you have never dreamed of my sweet 
young one...I have alot of anger to you want my passion? 
Do you want my pain? Do you dare?  Give me a voice...prove to me you 
are real...I'll prove to you every word I've said with pain you've 
never dreamed of.

Do you dare?


Introduction Index Part 2