Chapter 17 Index Chapter 19

Subject:      CODY: THE STAND-IN, Chp.18
From: (Mithryl)
Date:         1997/08/31
Message-Id:   <5uck9a$9ti$>
Newsgroups:   alt.torture,rec.arts.prose,

                          THE STAND-IN

                      By Cody Ann Michaels
                     c. All rights reserved

                           Chapter 18

                   Smalhausen's Diary (con't)

August 28, 1997

	I heard scatching sounds in the hall and looked out.  Cody was
trying to crawl up the steps.  She looked pretty bad.  I went down and
helped her.  Her big jugs caught on each step as I dragged her up the
steps.  I managed to get her up and through the do or of my apartment. 
She curled up on the kitchen floor.  She looked pretty bad.  "oh why did
they have to hurt me so bad," she sobbed.  There wasn't much left of her
dress.  It was ripped up the front and showed her bleeding cunt.  "You
want to talk abou t it?" I asked. 

	To tell you the truth, I'm not much interested in Cody's problems
any more.  Some people can't change.  She's one of them.  She'll always be
a junkie sex addict.  I only keep her around because of Kelly.  Kelly has
dyed her hair black and is bartending a t a place called Lulu's.  I asked
how she was doing.  Cody said she guessed okay. 


	This evening, my mind is blank.  I can't think of anything.  My
sleep problem is getting worse.  Either not being able to fall asleep or
not being able to wake up.  My dreams go deeper and deeper.  But I can
never remember anything beyond a few bits and pieces.  Usually, in the
morning, there is short space just after waking when I can go back over a
dream and think about it.  But by the time I go to the bathroom, it's
gone.  This amnesia is very strange, especially for something that
consumes so much energy. 


	- Kelly said to wear my black chauffer's uniform.  Vinnie had
booked me to drive for Street Grep.  She had asked for me specifically I
groaned. Driving Street Grep and her snotty girl friends around town was a
real horror.  I usually ended up on the conso le with them doing nasty
things to me while their boy friends fucked me.  Not even their boy
friends. They liked to pick up street winos and make me fuck with them. 
Street hated me.  But I can't say no.  Vinnie would kill me. 


	- This guy was trying to impress this gorgeous chick, who he knew
was into violence and sadism.  So he invited her to his apartment, where
he had me tied up on the coffee table.  I was his gift to her.  The two of
them fucked and hurt me all night long, ma king love on top of me.  I had
to mouth fuck him while she used a double dildo in my cunt. 


	Sure.  Sure, Cody.  God, she has more stories than Scherazade. 
But I want to go to bed.  Twenty years ago, I would have loved this. 
Listening to a good looking chick tell me about how abused she was, but
not now.  I told her she could stay on the kitch en floor as long as she
wanted.  I was going to bed. 

	She crawled into the bedroom after me.  I asked if she wanted to
get into bed.  She said no.  She propped herself up against the radiator. 
There's no heat.  It's summer.  Her hair was frazzled, and she had a
bloody nose.  Her eyes were big, staring.  I wondered if she wasn't just a
little crazy.  There were cuts and bruises all over her arms and legs. 

	I lay down.  And stared at the ceiling.  After awhile, I rolled
over on my belly and clutched the pillow.  Then I turned on my side and
held the pillow against my belly.  On the other side of the room, I could
see Cody slumped over like a big Barbie.  He r legs stuck out straight. 
She was still wearing the high heels.  The stockings were in shreds.  The
top of one was still fastened to the garter belt suspender.  Her massive
crop of henna colored hair fell over her face.  She was either sleeping or
had passed out. 

	I lay there for an hour but couldn't sleep.  My heart hurt. 
Finally, I got up and went into the studio.  I didn't feel like painting. 
My mind felt totally useless.  I thought about Kelly.  How different she
was from Cody.  I had known her for a long ti me.  Thirty years.  No.  I
was confusing her with somebody else.  Susan.  Or Elaine.  Nora.  That
girl on the bridge in Florence.  The crazy Irish woman.  Was that it? 
Lianne.  What happened to her?  Colette.  There was one.  That time I saw
her naked.  When she came out of the sauna.  I felt blinded.  Her image
stayed on my retina like a flashbulb for weeks.  Robertson had her.  She
was too insecure to let go.  What do I care?  Her daughter would have been
a terror.  A redhead like Kelly.  Let me see, 1 971.  Four... She'd be... 
Cody's mother's age.  A year older than Melissa.  She'll be thirty in... 
She's thirty now.  Kelly's the only one I've been in love with since I
moved in here.  A long time.  I must have been dead.  Oh, wait a moment,
there was Vanessa.  I loved Vanessa.  Like a pgymy making love to an
elephant.  Grotesque.  But Kelly, I almost thought I had a chance.  The
difference in our ages.  But we had the same brain.  I thought we did. 
Maybe I was wrong.  Cody kept getting in the way.  I could tell she was
jealous.  She didn't like us to be alone together.  It made her insecure. 
I had to put up with her.  For Kelly's sake.  But she was a nuisance.  I
pretended to be in love with her.  To take some of the pressure off Kelly. 
But later I realized that had been a mistake.  Kelly misinterpreted it. 
Then there was a fight.  I had to kill her.  She gave me no choice.  I hit
her with the spanner.  Right between the eyes.  It broke her skull like an
eggshell.  Cody asked me where Kelly was.  I said in heaven. 


	Why do I have these thoughts?  These ugly thoughts.  As if I would
ever hurt these girls.  Or do anything bad.  Or mean.  Or selfish.  Or
hurtful.  Or viscious.  Or cruel.  Or ...  What am I thinking?  Why do I
feel I have to be mean to Cody?  As if I ha ve to constantly dream up new
ways to hurt her.  Or Kelly?  I have these thoughts.  Threw boiling water
in her face.  Stab her.  Push her down the stairs.  Short little impulses
which I would never act on, but which constantly plague me.  With my
mother, too.  I think, I could pick up this knife and stab her in the back
as she bends over to pick something up off the floor.  But I don't.  Or I
think, I could push her as she goes down the stairs to the car.  Or I
could hit her over the head.  Wham.  And it would be over.  Finished.  She
fell and hit her head on the table.  Twice.  She had gotten up and she
fell over again.  And wham.  Right on the edge of the table.  I held my
breath to see if they'd buy that.  Or I could put a pillow over her face
as she s lept.  Hold it there.  Sit on her.  To keep her from escaping.  I
might have to hit her with a hammer.  But then I thought of all the things
she had done for me.  And I felt bad.  Remorse.  That I would do something
like this to my 92 year old mother.  To day, I thought, I could grope Thea
under the table as we had lunch.  I wondered what she would do.  We've
been friends for seven years.  She is totally anti-male.  Especially
American ones.  Her husband is from East Africa.  He wears a ceremonial
robe whe rever he goes.  Our relationship is totally asexual.  What would
she do if I leaned down and kissed her.  She was my first model.  Under
those sloppy clothes she has the body of an angel.  We've never kissed or
hugged.  Unless you count those little pecks on the cheek that people do
who can't stand each other.  We talk about neutral things.  Like getting
laid.  What she's doing for Christmas.  What Nagumba said to the customs
officer.  What happened in the bathroom later.  "They shoved a plunger all
the w ay up his bottom!  Can you believe that?"  I said I couldn't. 
I.N.S. people are such thugs. 

	Anyway, you can see how I feel about her.  I just don't want to
get started again.  I met her the fall of the year Kelly left.  I was
still hurting.  She came to New York.  I had met her the summer before at
a martial arts camp in New England.  She was m odeling for an arts project
on the same campus.  I was totally nuts about her.  Kelly, that is.  Thea
was about the same size.  With curly dirty yellow hair.  I thought it
could be dyed red and she would look like Kelly.  I found her various
modeling gigs .  And she came here.  I had to be very careful.  She was
very touchy.  She was in love with this Mandela or whatever his name was. 
She went back and forth to Sierra Leone to visit him.  He was not from
there but some place else.  Maybe Peru.  But his pa rents were so he could
get a work permit.  He wanted to come to the United States.  I'm not going
to get involved with someone else's life.  Wife.  Whatever.  Besides, she
likes young boys.  He's eight years younger than she is.  By now, he must
be gettin g over the hill in her eyes.  She doesn't want an old man like

	You work the material.  You see what you get.  What was I
thinking?  God, this is good hash she brought me.  That was the other
reason he kept her around.  Because she knew how to score.  He had a
couple of sources.  It was a network.  He knew how to pul l the strings. 
So that everything came back to him.  Role playing.  So that he was Vinnie
and she was Cody.  Him and her doing it until it got very real.  Kelly
wearing a Cody mask.  He was a dago in shirt sleeves.  With elastic cords
around the biceps. Wonder why they did that.  Because the sleeves were too
long, and it held them up so they wouldn't look stupid, big tough guys
with their cuffs hanging over their hands like lace fops.  She gave him a
smile.  He stared back at her.  Vinnie, she was beggi ng, don't send me... 
But Vinnie doesn't talk to you.  He talks to Kelly.  If you have something
to say, tell her.  Vinnie said to wear the short black chauffer's outfit. 
Shiny black thong panties.  Jacket with long tails.  Hair down.  Black
stockings an d high heeled black boots.  And white gloves and shirtfront. 

	Look your best.  Hair combed.  Long dangling earrings.  Eyes
carefully made up.  Lipstick applied.  Lip liner.  Dimple.  Mole. 
Mascara.  Large and luminescent is how they are described in the bulletin. 
Look sharp.  She was gorgeous.  Street looked her over.  Cody stood at
attention.  Kelly made her tremble.  It was clear the girl was afraid of
her new employer.  Street's friends, Megan and Courtney, were going for a
ride.  They made Cody drive them to different night clubs and to stand by
the car while they went inside.  She had to look totally nonchalant.  Like
she wasn't a total wet dream.  In her black chauffer's hat. 

	Guys walked over to her and watched as she polished the headlights
for about the fourteenth time.  Eventually the girls came out and got in
the car.  Street told Cody to drive to the Next Place.  Where they got out
and went inside.  Cody again had to sta nd outside the car on display. 
She leaned against the fender.  Smoking a cigarette.  At this point there
was a break in the reality of the film as the directors had an argument
over whether they should leave that in.  They could be accused of
encouraging smoking.  But it's part of the character.  This isn't someone
young girls would look up to.  She's an escort.  She makes two thousand
dollars a night.  Just for taking a gang of school girls around town. 
Courtney said she had always wanted to see the St atue of Liberty.  At
night.  From the crown.  Cody waited by the helioport for them to come
back.  The wind off the east river chilled her thighs.  There was the
smell of raw sewage in the air.  Cody clutched herself.  Shivering.  She
walked up and down.  She couldn't get into the car because Street always
locked it and took the key.  Forcing her to stand outside, where she was
an endless spectacle to anyone who walked by.  Then they drove downtown to
the Bowery.  They drove up and down the street for awh ile until Street
saw the squishiest ugliest old drunk you can imagine, and dragged him into
the car.  They said they'd give him ten bucks if he'd fuck their driver. 
He said, sure, why not.  He figured it was a guy.  Cody was told to drive
to the west sid e, down by the wharfs.  And stop.  Then Street told her to
get out and come in the back.  When the guy saw Cody, he burst out
laughing.  Jesus, she's pretty.  Cody got in and sat on the console.  She
knew what was coming next.  She held her hands together .  As if trying to
shrivel up.  Street said, "What are you waiting for?  Take off your
pants."  Cody slid the black thong down her legs, catching it in one of
the stocking clips.  And the tops of her boots.  She pulled it off. 

	"Now you ask him to fuck you."

	Cody's tongue was stuck in her dry mouth.  She couldn't.  Street
reached out and slapped her face.  Megan laughed.  She was sitting on the
other side of the drunk in the backseat.  "Come on, Cody.  You have to beg
him to fuck you.  Do it pig.  Piggie Cody." 

	Cody's breath came hard.  plll spplese fuck me.  Her words were as
slurred as his.  The drunk slobbered.  Sure.  Why not.  He crawled over to
the console and pushed her down.  And shoved his dick in her cunt.  And
fell asleep.  On top of her.  The girls laughed.  Cody struggled under the
sleeping drunk.  She was impaled on his penis.  It was out straight.  And
stayed that way.  She was humping.  Trying to get it further inside her. 
Jack it off. Make a baby.  Her face was contorted and her eyes stared.  He
had pushed the jacket back off her bare shoulders so it pinned her arms. 
Cody fought to stop him, but she was no match for someone so strong.  The
girls played with her tits as she was raped.  Or pulled her hair.  Or
pinched her face.  They were so m ean.  Later, she drove them home.  Again
she had to stand outside Street's townhouse while the young starlet
entertained her friends.  Then she had to drive each one home.  Back to
their apartments and condos.  Street was the last to go home.  At the door
, she kissed Cody on the lips.  The young chauffer stood there without
resisting, let herself be held by this older woman.  Who was kissing her. 
It just went on and on.  She stood there afterward, long after Street went
in the house.  Then she drove away .  "It was real, baby," Street told
her.  "I mean, really real.  I had you, slut.  Now we're even."  Cody
thought, "We haven't even gotten started, cunt."  The two girls were
deadly enemies.  Street had a talent for making Cody uncomfortable.  Like
rentin g her from Vinnie.  Or like offering her to friends.  Joe.  Joe
wanted to impress Courtney.  So he gave her Cody.  The two of them fucked
the distressed teenager, and made love on top of her bleeding body.  It
was a real turnon.  Vanessa raked deep gouges in Cody's flesh.

	Cody was put backwards over a bar stool and one fucked her mouth
while the other fucked her wet cunt.  Street noticed a guy in a bar and
asked if he would like some extra money.  He followed her to where they
had Cody.  They watched from the car while he beat her to a pulp.  Cody
was on her hands and knees.  He gave her a kick that flipped her on her
back, and then he stomped on her stomach, not for the first time that
night.  Street gave him his money.  "It was fun," he said.  They wondered
how they wer e going to get home.  Cody was in no shape to drive.  And
they had no idea where they were.  There was a bar on the other side of
the highway.  They managed to cross without getting killed.  And went
inside.  Several pairs of eyes looked up.  Courtney, Me gan and Street
stood there like does caught in a headlight.  Frozen.  Young.  Vulnerable. 
Sexy.  Easy. 

	They said their chauffer was even better.  They had two guys go
across the road and bring Cody back.  See.  Didn't we tell you.  They held
Cody up between them.  Her head hung down.  Street sold her at twenty
bucks a pop.  Top or bottom or both.  Cody wa s draped across a barstool
with head hanging down.  And her ass over the other side.  She protested
as she was raped.  It went on and on.  An endless cycle she could not
break.  Why?  Why not?  What was so hard about it?  Why did she always end
up getting fucked?  She banged her head against the radiator.  It hurt. 
Where am I?  Smal?  Are you there? 

	How'd I get home?

	Snak.  oh god, they hit me.  Cody was draped across a blackjack
table.  Cards were pushed up her cunt.  They had caught her cheating. 
You're only cheating yourself, it was hard to ignore something like that
if it comes to real fighting, I'll be there.  She's like a master.  She
withdraws behind her veils.  He unpppluged the current.  The collar makes
you think.  Could this be me? 

But it's getting closer.  I can feel it.  She's coming here soon.  I have
tog et ride of the evidence.  Madrid.  62.  A long way away.  The CIA. 
Hey hey, the cia.  Long before it became an american standard, it was The
Office Of Overseas Defence.  The O-O.D., in other words.  Got that?  I
guess.  Go on.  They took the doll and put it in a box and hid it un der
the bed.  The doorbell range. 
now go to bed.

she stepped down and caught her panties on the hook.  She was now sliding
backward into the abysss.  A crime against nature.  Happens all the time. 
No one cares.  I can hurt and you don't care.  I do, Mother.  I do.  But
it's just such a nuisance coming down here every time you burp.  I feel
like a yoyo.  She released him.  He held on.  It was getting windy up
here.  Maybe they will both go together.  Mother and son.  In a flaming
carwreck.  She couldn't get out.  Because of the seat belt.  And he died w
ith her.  Trying to get the seat belt off and save his mother.  It's a big
divide.  Something you have to get over.  Now go.  Go on now go.  I'm not
the selfless little person you wanted to lay down and die I'm a real
person.  See me as such.  I can't, Mother.  Cody's in the next trailer.  I
must get in to see her.  Before the bomb goes off.  Shards of camp were
all over South Florida.  It's a separate state down there.  Completely cut
off.  It's been years since I've heard from anyone in Florida.  I think
they're all tied up.  And can't move.  The hurricane had 150 mile per hour
winds.  Force four.  It jammed Gran's trailer into the Hundred Acre Wood
and broke it in half.  The new camp formed around her.  T he wreckage. 
The skar.  The face of the earth.  Focused on him through his mother. 
What did it mean?  He wondered.  Was it something I said.  Now I was hot. 
The girl cringed.  Not like that.  I hit her with everything I had.  It
wasn't enough.  I could tell.  She was insatiable.  Are you taking your
pills?  She sent them to him in plastic \bags.  Up somebody's ass.  They
were mules.  And I had to wait days for them to shit it out.  In the
meantime, they stayed with my aunt.  She's my cousin by an earli er
marriage.  This goes under the girl's fingernials.  It makes them
brighter.  Shine.  Little battery imploded tear drops eating into her
skin.  The rain invigorated her.  And made her fingers short circuited. 
It was the mist forming on her delicate ski n that made her aware that
they were at last going to bomb Moscow.  The big planes lumbered out of
their air conditioned hangars and ambled out onto the airstrip.  And took
off towards Moscow.  It was finally going to happen, what they were made
for.  Big honeycolored mellons hung from their wingtips.  Cody's face was
on all of them.  She was the commander.  Come in please.  Space  Dot com.  Right.  I knew it had to be she.  We did it right
there on a garbage can.  She put up quite a struggle.  She was that serial
killer's girl friend.  I haven't seen him.  Leave me alone.  I don't know. 
Come on.  Cut it out.  I'm only a little girl.  They fucked her right
there on the hood/ of the big limo purring under her behind.  It was warm
and it lit up the night as the innocent school girl writhed on the Rolls.
Cody stepped into the board room where the meeting was to take place.  She
stood in front of the table and looked down.  Innocent.  On a leash. 
Showing them what she was.  Very nice.  Take her down.  The shoot went
from one shot to the next.  Courtney waved from the other side of the
room.  Cody struggled, but she was no match.  The same phrases keep
appearing and reappearing.  Something cyclic was happening.  But what> in
the far reaches of the barn. 

	But it's not.  Kelly put Cody through a series of poses before she
told her to step down.  Cody meekly obeyed.  She had a lot of problems. 
She's slightly neurotic.  Brain damage.  Massive contosions to the skull. 
It had to be him.. It has his m.o. writ ten all over it.  But he's in
Europe.  I tell you, it's got to be him.  Go on.  Ask for his autograph. 
She had to go up and ask for people's autographs.  In a skirt and necktie. 
Collar. Cuffs.  Little school girl.  Tits hanging out.  They don't make
gir ls wear a bra until they're eighteen.  Before that, they're thought to
be in a state of innocence.  At the same time, they're legal to fuck when
they're ten.  A lot of perverts like to fuck much younger girls.  She
laughed.  As the acid was poured in Cody 's mouth.  You look at a dream
from the other side.  Before you have it.  Not after.  Afterwards, it is
gone.  Into the future.  Where the raw materials of the past are made up
and put togetehr.  Then you allow yourself to be drawn in.  Like a meat
grinde r.  Sucking you down.  Grinding you apart.  Sending the extrusion
to the mill.  Where it is worked and reworked until it becomes a full
fledged script.  It's a meticulous process; there's no way around it. 
Fascinating.s, one that has to be totally accura te.  From there, it's up
to you.  Then it goes the other way.  You set up shop.  You find the
guilty person.  You file your report.  You go home.  Like a good cop. 
Don't mess around.  I helped Cody drag Kelly's lifeless body back into
their apartment.  Y ou want her.  You can have her.  Fucking dead Kelly. 
Go ahead, Smal.  Why don't you take her?  You always wanted to.  Fuck her
dead naked body.  Cody kicked at one of Kelly's big jugs.  Well, go on
now. go.  Do it.  If that's what you want.  There she is .  You'd better
fuck her now.  You'll never have another chance.  Cody kicked Kelly hard
in the crotch, as if Kelly were still alive and could feel it.  Maybe she
could.  Maybe in her drugged crazed mind she thought she really had it. 
Or had it coming.  This town is so mean.  It took a young girl's hopes and
crushed them., And then it knocked her across the room.  Boy he really
hated her.  He stuffed her up against the car.  With his fists.  Holding
her up.  Cody bounced off the Damler.  Another fist ca ught her on the
chin.  She went limp against the hood.  He impaled her backwards on the
ornament.  It had been replaced with the top of a lampstand., It went
right through her.  Like a ghost.  She's frying in hell for his soul. 
Nice arrangement.  The on ly one.  You've got to push the envelope.  She
was an expert in karate.  He taught her the moves.  But not all of them. 
How'd she get this?  He hit her in the face.  And this.  Knife cut.  On
the legs.  She was creased.  Nice thatch of hair.  He felt up inside her. 
Wet Yet?  Wet Yet acuctioned her off.  You won't be going back to England,
my dear.  I've sold you to pay off my gambling debts.  These gentlmen will
see you to your carriage.  My wife is staying on for a few more weeks. 
This girl is Mischel le.  She will take you to your quarters.  Melanie
followed the young acolyte to a deeper chamber where she was disrobed and
made to feel quite at home.  Then Cody began to work her over.  Come, my
dear.  Don't keep these gentlemen waiting.  You know what they'll do to
you.  But it will never fit your expectations.  You have the option of
looking at me differently.  Why don't you do it.  She farted.  Do it now. 
I was in an art gallery somewhere and they were showing my pictures.  But
I didn't recognize an yone.  None of the people I always wanted to know
what a great artist I was.  They didn't come.  Or maybe they were dead. 
Here I was a raving success, and all the people I was doing it for were
dead.  So what good was it?  My paintings were huge.  They t ook up whole
gallery walls.  And they were all abstracts.  There wasn't a woman in the
bunch.  Then they became figurative, but they were still of buildings and
objects like water jars and fountains.  No women.  I thought, what do I
want to do?  Go on pai nting women for the rest of my life or do something
serious?  Like art.  Real art.  Jackson Pollack and all that.  The trouble
is you want to do things that somebody else had done.  Be yourself.  Be
popular.  Be anything you like.  A clown.  With his pant s falling down. 
In a square.  Somewhere.  anywhere.  There's a party going on.  Do it. 
I'm telling you, this stuff will sell.  Was this a dream> I wondered. 
Let's get back to the hardstuff.  Kennedy quit.  The next guy believes in
witchcraft.  How abo ut him?  Governor Terry Brown.  Late of the Court of
Azzies in Salem County.  Bring in the witch.  And burn her.  Let's get
back to basics.  What are we going to do with a dead body?  Why don't we
just call the police and let them handle it.  They're set up for stuff
like this.  At a roadblock outside of town, they were stopped and asked
for their license.  Every belt cost twenty-five dollars.  Want to buy one? 
It was a primary roadblock.  After you got past the primary, there was
still more action.  Chi lls and spills.  Random shootouts.  Bodies in
motion.  Tumbling about.  In the dryer.  What happens when this stuff
wears off?  You get a different body and are reborn.  Let the spirits
enter in.  Legba is a tired old man who cannot get up.  They all embr ace
Legba.  Legba is the doorkeeper.  Without him, none of the other spirits
can get through.  So better be nice to Legba.  Then come the others and
the spirits come in.  The dancers dance with the spirits inside
themselves.  It very nice. 

	When you feel the spirit inside you, you are reborn and the spirit
lives in your new body.  So now your body is the temple of the spirit. 
How do you treat it?  Do you treat it good?  Or do you take drugs and
smoke beer?  My smoke is the best smoke in th e house.  Occasionally they
fight.  A fight breaks out.  The girls scream and hollar.Then it's over
and I am beholden to you.  You thank the man and he gives you the money. 
Then you call in and they tell you where to go next. 

	She crotched down in a doorway while she used her cellular phone,
as if trying to hide.  Hi, hon.  How arya doing? 

	The dispatcher gave her an address.  It was nice hearing a human
voice where she was.  Somewhere along the docks.  There was a parking lot. 
It was a place to bring tricks.  The wind blew her skirt up around her
thighs.  The ultimate male fantasy.  Finding a woman who was so
completely alone no one would protect her.  He handed her over to his girl
friend to use as an ashtray.  Courtney was impressed.  She dragged the tip
of the cigarette along one of the girl's scrawny ribs.  Cody jumped
accordingly.  Very fine stuff. 

West Side highway.w

Chapter 17 Index Chapter 19