Chapter 14 Index Chapter 16

Subject:      CODY: THE STAND-IN Chp.15
From: (Mithryl)
Date:         1997/08/23
Message-Id:   <5tn7ba$kvj$>
Newsgroups:   soc.subculture.bondage-bdsm,rec.arts.prose,

                          THE STAND-IN

                      By Cody Ann Michaels
                     c. All rights reserved

                             Part 2

                       Smalhausen's Diary (con't)

                           Chapter 15

August 20, 1997

	Memory lost.

	What happened.  I blipped several entries.  How could I have done
that?  I don't even know what they were.  Just a sense of the loss.  Loss
of the incomprehensible, the resolving chaos.  I remember, at best, the
headers.  One was Jupiter.  Or Saturn.  Th e other was "Year 1".  But when
I woke the next day, they were gone.  Only the last act, in which the
young Nazi girl is dragged down to hell by her dead suitors remained.  I
cannot believe that happened.  That I would have forgotten to save.  To do
an F1 0.  I F10 like crazy.  Why would I have forgotten now.  But I did. 
Now there is a hole in memory where the missing data resided. 
Irretrievably lost. 

	Why does that bother me?  Why does it feel like there is a pit in
the depths of my stomach where something is missing?  Have I not just
said, I hate memory?  Then why is it so important to collect it, every
little detail, as if saving up against the comi ng ... what?  Crisis? 
Depression?  Recession?  Apocalypse.  When everything is annihilated? 
When all that will be left to sustain is ... what?> Memory? 


	Tonight there is a Taggart.  So I will have something to watch. 
The Scottish detective.  I like it because they give one no quarter in the
language department.  You have to watch with utmost concentration, or
listen, to catch the remnants of English wit hin the brogues.  Today in
the paper there was an article about why people watch mysteries.  I didn't
read it.  I do because it gives one a point of reference.  Something to
question besides one's soul. 

	I did two more paintings of Cody.  I am trying to get back to
Willie.  Two days ago, in the mail, I received a two volume bound set of
his Bizarre magazine.  A reprint [Taschen].  I was a bit disappointed. 
The pages are the original size.  Approximately 8 by 5.  For some reason,
I had been expecting large, coffee-table books.  It could have been done. 
On the spine of one book is a drawing of a woman in a tight corset with
her arms held up behind her shoulders by a spreader bar that goes across
her back.  She is gagged and wears stockings and extremely high heels. 
The corset is demure by today's standards.  On the spine of the other book
is a woman in riding outfit holding a whip. 

	What struck me about these pictures as I studied them was the
contrast with the freedom I allow Cody in permitting her to wear only a
short dress and garterbelt.  Her body is almost completely free in these
paintings, even though my shoes and boots have much higher heels than
Willie's.  These books are from or begin in 1946.  There was a much more
rigorous discipline then required of young women.  These corsets -- there
are many illustrations -- are narrow enough to give a girl a 12 inch
waist.  I don't even think Kelly could stand that. 

	It might be interesting to try, though.  Kelly, of course, does
not model for me.  She's too good for that.  After all, that's what she
has Cody for, isn't it?  To abuse and whore her out to the cash customers. 
Yes.  Kelly is a sharp businesswoman.  I h ave to give her that. 

	The girl with the whip is wearing spurs.  The other girl looks
terrified.  I wonder what they did back then?  Was bondage more acceptable
in those days?  Or just not as noticeable.  These magazines were meant to
sell in drugstores and tobacco shops.  The cost was thirty-five cents.  On
the cover of an early issue was a redheaded girl in a black gag. 

	Willie was a master of bondage and the bizarre.  But I prefer
Stanton.  His women seem more real.  And more vulnerable.  And also, they
are much larger.  Wylie was more interested in fashion.  A kind of fashion
as he saw it.  Whereas Stanton went in more for sex and violence.  One
cannot imagine Willie drawing a picture of a woman being hit in the tit.
But Stanton is really quite good at it.  Kelly is very good at inflicting
violence on Cody, which only makes the idea of doing it to her more
interesting. They say to be a good dominatrix, you must first be a
submissive.  If so, Kelly must have endured a horrible childhood.  I can
only imagine what it must have been like.  I just wish I could draw it. 

August 10, 1997

	I heard Kelly screaming in the other room.  What's the matter? 
They destroyed my files.  My pictures.  17 photo shoots.  Gone.  They had
taken out the mother board and changed the hard drive.  Without telling
her.  She was having a hysterical outpouring of rage.  Cody didn't look so
good either.  They had taken the pictures from February to June.  From the
printouts I had seen, they were pretty graphic. 

	Kelly, it turned out, was a fan of Jim.  Jim, if I remember right,
was a Swiss engineer or draftsman.  He drew machine parts for a living. 
And he drew women in bondage as if they were the contorted parts of
incredibly complex machines.  Kelly liked to t ake one of these designs
and tie up her roommate in approximately the same shape or pose.  Then she
would take pictures using Cody's laptop.  There were several thousand
pictures on that hard drive. 

	Now they would all have to be done over.  I asked if I could help. 

July 13, 1997  xxxxxxx xxxxx, Florida  10 p.m.

	Last night.

	Sitting on the porch.  Light breeze.  M. in bed.  Thinking about
Cody.  What I'm going to do with her.  This sequence.  What do I want from
her this time? 

	That's easy.  I want Kelly.

	I want Kelly Morgan to crawl into my studio and beg me to fuck
her.  And she will, too.  Because with Kelly, I don't have to feel guilt. 
I know what she is.  And I don't have anything to do with it. 

	Cody, I might feel a little responsible for.  But Kelly is totally
on her own.  The only way I am going to get her is make her believe she is
doing what she wants to do. 

	Which might not be so easy.

	On the other hand, it may be easier than it sounds.  We'll see.

	Cody is sitting on the railing of the other porch.  Even at the
beach, she looks like a slut.  Long red hair dangling.  That profile in
the moonlight.  Swinging one leg over the side.  She's not wearing heels
tonight.  Or even stockings.  In fact, she's wearing a pair of denim
shorts.  And a halter with red dots.  She's bare foot.  The shorts are
very brief.  Her belly button shows.  And her tits are bulging out of the
halter.  She's very casual.  She ignores me.  Here, we pretend not to know
each other.  No one knows we live across the hall from each other in New
York.  Each time we return, it is like a surprise.  Cody?  Hi.  Oh, Mr.
Smalhausen.  How are you?  What are you doing in New York?  I live here. 
Oh?  In fact we're neighbors.  I live right ac ross the hall from you. 
You could see in her face she wasn't sure how to handle that.  Oh yeah? 

	This is my roommate.  Kelly, this is Mr. Smalhausen.  From
Florida.  I told you about him.  He lives next to my Gran.  My mother
does.  I live in New York.  I just go down there to visit.  Oh?  You're
always there when I am.  Yeah.  It's a coincidence, isn't it?  I guess so. 

	You were there at Christmas, too.

	That's right.  I remember.

	She looked at me.  Kelly smiled.

August 5, 1957

	Grover and I went with Mary to Regis.  To visit her aunt.  While
we were there, Clorise offered us some school supplies which she had in
the basement; they were from her late husband's office.  There was quite a
lot of stuff.  Grov loaded it into the car .  When we got back to W.,
Clorise called and said she had been robbed.  Mary was flabbergasted.  She
took all the stuff we had taken, and said we couldn't have it.  But why
had Clorise told us to take anything if she didn't mean it?  I took her
husband's edition of French etchings.  I had never seen pictures like
those.  Grover found several boxes of cannibis in his laboratory.  Isn't
this...?  If we smoke it....  Yes.  And an ugly large syringe for horses
and cows.  In a tin box.  There was also sulphur , Potassium Nitrate,
carbon, and something else, I forget.  I had already made enough bombs to
know we had made a great find.  We lugged the containers down to the car. 

	What else?  An envelope filled with stock certificates.  Clorise
was the richest woman in Regis.  I didn't think she would miss them.  I
took one of her corsets.  It was from the 1890s.  When she had been the
belle of Center County.  Well, anyway, she wa s bugged.  They stripped me
bare!  Women tend to be a bit dramatic in my family.  The old lady was
obviously exaggerating.  She still had 34 rooms and four bathrooms and a
cellar.  Just nothing in them.  Except the painting of her in Sarasota. 
They had a house there.  Clorise is standing in front of the mantle in a
yellow dress.  A gown, really.  Except you can see everything through it. 
They had a private railway car, too, and you can see it reflected in the
mirror as it stands on its private siding in the front yard.  We left her

	So why should she complain?  I ask you?  Grov said he didn't want
anything.  Except we hadn't told Mary about the cannibis, the syringe and
the gun powder.  And the etchings. 

	We had sort of held back.  Mary was a good old soul, but there
were some things she couldn't quite fathom, such as why we would want to
have visions.  And why I was nuts about pornography.  And why we would
want to make bombs.  Or wear a corset.  Okay.  We were 17.  We didn't
quite know why either.  It just seemed like the thing to do the summer
before we went away to college.  We were fresh out of high school and the
whole world lay before us, fraught with possibility.  Not possibilities. 
Just one big possibility.  It was everything.  And we embraced it.  We had
taken the old lady's stash, and now she was furious.  The other stuff we
could have, she said, but she wanted her weed back.  Like now! 

June 15, 1957

	Now what?

	It's over.  I'm out.  12 years.

	The commemoration was fabulous.  Actually, it was a bore.  But
Grover made it special.  And the Parker sisters were there.  Neither
graduated.  But Alex was in last year's class, and April is yet to come. 

	Donny was there, too.  And David K.  Both were in last year's
class, but came back to watch their friends graduate.  They were both
Mary's students. 

	Afterwards, my parents had a party.  And after that, we went
downtown to the dinner.  April was there.  And Alex came in later.  With
Jimmy.  He owns the Buick showroom on Third Street.  His son graduated two
years ago. 

	How much is left?

	I also saw Ann.  She is much prettier than either Alex or April,
and in a different kind of way.  I don't quite know... Patty. 

June 10, 1969

September 3, 1978


October 1977
March 3, 197
	The fire
	After the fire
the lights were out
Waist cinch
High Big Boobs
rope pulled up into her koose
arms pulled back in a cinch
eyes bulging with fear.  Discomfort.  Pain.  Pulling herrr shoulderrs
back.  Forcing her.  Fastening the gag. 

the heat was on.  Sizzling in the radiators.  They had not fixed the
wiring in this one and the three that were gutted. 
I led her about the muted carpets.
Her high heels ...

	Come now, Ann.  You can do better than that.  That tummy cincher
really pulls you in.  But with the rope pulled between her legs, I
couldn't have sex. 

I untied her.  Kelly Ann Morgan.  Slap.  Her head went sideways.  She
avoided the blow and swung back at him.  That was a mistake.  She should
have gone with the flow.  Aren't you, KellY?  y Yes George.  The mighty
Kelly was kneeling at George's feet, begging him to kick her. 

	You like that, don't you Kelly.  When I kick you?  And hurt you. 
y yessss
Let's try this.
She had the apartment across the hall.  He could just slip this around her
as she goes by and drag her in to be painted.  He's like that.  Very
exubernt if you know what I mean. 
Frauubermeireriseinjudenmachen sie,,

The street names neverr remained the same for long.  It was ojnly in a
stasis that they did not change.  Is that right, Kelly?  Yes, mein
ubermeister i aagagggragrge dsdon't breakk it
it's valuable
Clorise was the doyen of ourr brood, mein grosmutter's schwester kleina. 
18 years.  Mein grosamutterin was geselbst.  Ya wohl Nick Wahr.  Hi ya
nick?  Hiya schatzi. 

Reality check.  Am I still here?  I am.  Now I know why I did this in the
first place.  But is it applicable now?  I must try.  For 18 years they
had been apart, but now they came back together again with the force of a
bear trap.  And clampped her tits in the teeth.  You can hear the
involuntary squalling from Track B. 

You didn't throw out your beta did you?

Betas are hot items nowasday.  For instance, there's this guy in Los
Angeles who recycles my shit.  He's making a fortune out of it.  you
should see my website.  It looks like a 1948 whore house.  come on in my
elden schatzi tourst getrappen.  Sucker! 
Cody delivered Kelly in a package even Jim couldn't put on paper.  What do
you mean, it's exactly the same Except Jim's are black and white etchings,
and Kelly is tied up exactly like the girl in the picture. 
I like the way her eyes pop out.
I held the drawing up.
I wasn't sure.
Kelly's legs wwere behind her neck, but at sort of an odd angle.  And the
tube, the tube was an interesting variation.  Cody had used copper piping
so it wouldn't corrode.  We got into an arguement over whether it was two
poles or one pole all the way thr ough.  Of course, Cody won.  The pipe
had a sort of flex in it so it could be bent whenver Cody slapped her
roommate.  Or squatted over her face. 

Kelly was doing a great job working her tongue around the pole and licking
Cody's nether lips as her cunt did the same thing.  Kelly's clit was
standing out like a prick.  I thought she was going to jack off.  There
was a series of rings in it leading up into her body.  We had had another
argument over where the tube was supposed to go.  CCody wanted to put it
through her cunt.  But I thought the ass would be better because it would
give me open access to Kelly's private parts.  Cody said that's all you t
hink about, isn't it?  Sex.  Doing things to my lovely Kelly's body.  Want
him to do that, Kel?  Lick faster.  She squeezed her legs shut around the
helpless redhead.  Kelly's muffled slurburs came faster and fasterr.  In
the meantime, Cody played with Kelly's cunt.  Tossling the red fur and
slipping a finger up inside the spread lips. 

	What do you want to do to her?  Tell me that first.

	I said I wanted to pulverize her pubic area with a meat hammer.

	Oh, go ahead.  That will be funn to watch.  Won't it Kel?

	I knew that Kelly was screaming around the pole.  I could see her
belly muscles contort, and her tits stick out.  But all I heard were
muffled sobs. 

	I poured meat tenderizer on herr wet crotch before I brought the
square hammer with the teeth down on her cunt. 
Her bloody cunt afterr that.
Now untie her.
See what she does.
We watched Kelly jump and twitch through the night.
She had fallen from a hayloft and broken her back.
But the corset held her in place.
It was like watching a fire climb the walls.  Gutting her out.  Kelly was
obscene. I had never seen a woman conduct herself like that before.  It
sort of disgusted him.  He woulld rather have her in a dormitory full of
frat boys than behaving like this.  Cody also seemed entranced, watchingg
her mistress crawl across the floor towards her.  Keep her away.  Oh my
God, my worst nightmare.  Get herr away from me.  I

	It's okay, Cody.  You had a bad dream.  That's all.  You'll be
alright.  o kel, we've got to move.  I'm telling you.  He's doing
something to me.  I can't help it.  I just know I'm going to hurt you.  Is
that too tight.  Shut up and keep tying.  He wante d her to tie him up in
the garage.  He was such a klutz. This is never going to work.  If I do
that, you'll strangle.  That was the idea.  He wanted them to find him
like this.  He just didn't have the guts to admit it.  In that moment,
it's like a flash goes off, and you're never the same.  I'm telling you. 
You are Barbie forever.  Or Sweeter Gwen.  Or Blunder Boobs.  Ah, now
there's a story.  Blunder Boobs.  Teenage crime fighter.  Men can't get
past her boobs.  Her star spangled titty boppers.  Do you
 get the humor in all this?  Can't you take a joke?  I was pretending. 

June 23, 19978  The Feast of the Impossible.

	They hold it every century.  Don't miss it.  The crowd gets to
you, and you swim in it.  It's a religious experience.  Many people die
and have to be carried from the playing field.  But now I've got to go. 
Mystery calls.  F10. 

                 "This town is so meannnnnnnnn."

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