FatElvis
01-16-2013, 07:16 PM
Aging
Part I
In a third story apartment, in an impoverished area of the city, a woman named Doris lived her whole life alone within two rooms. The walls of both rooms of the apartment were gray and wooden. There were no windows and very few lights in the apartment, and those lights that were present were mostly burnt out. In the room leading into the apartment sat only the barest furnishings. There was no TV, very little that could be called a kitchen, and the entire room more resembled a rustic cabin than an apartment in a busy city. In the bedroom a bleak, lightless bookshelf, filled with books her mother owned but Doris never bothered reading herself, dominated by its massive size. Directly across from the bookshelf was Doris' bed: frilly, ornamental, expensive and ruined beyond repair from decades of use. The entire apartment was old, but felt even older due to its amateur design and total neglect since construction.
Doris certainly didn't care about the state of her apartment. She could barely even be bothered to take care of herself, which made her look far older than her true age of 51. All Doris had ever craved was solitude. And now, thanks to careful saving and leftovers from her inheritance, she was finally able to retire from her hated job as a dentist's assistant. Now Doris could spend nearly all of her time alone in her apartment, basking in her own juices. She didn't even have to leave the apartment for groceries, a handsome young man fetched them for her. What was his name again? Bah, who cares!
The doorbell buzzed. “Hello, Miss... um – Hello Doris! I have your groceries for you!”
Doris grit her teeth in irritation. “Just leave them at the door, I'll get them later.” She looked around the room, “I'm busy right now!”
“Oh well sorry to bother you,” the young man said pathetically. “But I need this week's payment. You see I have to get my father's medication and I-”
Doris flung open the door in a barely contained rage. “That's fine then, here is your money.” Doris looked to the ceiling, “Thank you.”
Bewildered, the young man sat down the groceries at the doorstep and took the money from the woman's hand. “Um, again – sorry to disturb you, Dor- Mam.”
“Thank you!” Doris rang out shrilly, impatient for this unpleasant bit of human interaction to end.
The young man finally left, trying not to hurry away and appear overeager to leave. He thought to himself how sad it was that people started losing their minds when they grew old. “How old is she anyway,” he wondered, “70, 80 years old?”
Doris held the door close waiting for the young man to get out of sight, then when she was sure he was gone, she peeked out from behind the door and bent down to get her groceries. “Ouch!” Her back suddenly hit a sharp nerve and rung out in pain. Doris winced and waited for the pain to subside before bringing the groceries inside.
She brought them over to a small desk she used as a counter, and careful not to let the canned fruit and vegetables spill out, sat them on top. When she pulled away she cried out again. This time it was her arm that hurt. It felt like she had pulled something along the bicep area. She pulled back her sleeve to examine it and found a growing purple spot on her upper arm. Doris couldn't be bothered to care though, so merely sat back down in her chair and stared across the room, waiting for the daze of peaceful sleep to overtake her again.
Part II
Doris felt her stomach growl. She rose out of her creaky chair to eat her everyday meal of Wonder-Bread and canned food-stuff.
“Argh!” Doris fell over onto the floor. Her ankle had given out. Now she had hit her nose against the floor causing an effusion of blood to spread out beneath her face. What was making her body deteriorate? Doris lifted herself off the floor and heard a loud crack, then felt a strange pain in her face.
“Oh no...” Doris hobbled her way to the bathroom area and looked into the mirror. A 6 inch splinter had wedged itself into Doris' cheek, starting at the eye socket and working its way down past the lips. It looked like someone had stabbed her in the face with a chunk of wood. “Oh god.” Doris carefully grabbed hold of the part of the splinter protruding from her skin and tried to drag it out. “Ow!”
The splinter wasn't budging. Doris pulled a little harder, but still the giant splinter wouldn't move. Doris began to panic. This thing had to be removed now. Doris grabbed tight onto the end of the splinter and braced herself. She pulled as hard as she could and the splinter begrudgingly began making its way out of her face. After an inch the pain became so great that Doris started screaming. She kept going though, and a giant tear rode along the splinter's exit. Blood began pouring from the wound as Doris continued to yank as hard as she could. Finally she could pull no longer. The splinter still had two more inches to go before it was released. Doris decided she couldn't take any more pain, so she grabbed where the chunk of wood met her skin and bent it until it snapped off. She had released most of the splinter from her face, but decided it was easier to leave the last bit in there.
Doris looked down through her teary eyes and saw the huge scar she had created. Blood wasn't gushing as hard as before, but it still dripped into the sink, pooling red at the drain. Not knowing what else to do Doris painfully rubbed soap into the cut and washed it out with hot water.
After all this Doris was exhausted so hobbled back to her chair, forgoing her meal entirely. She put her hands on the arm rests to sit herself down, and felt more pain in the palm of her hands. She looked at her palms and found they were all cut up themselves, in places revealing tendons and muscle, from having been severely damaged during the splinter removal. At this last sight of bodily damage she sank into her chair and passed out.
Part III
Over the next week more unexplained injuries occurred to Doris. Bones broke, tendons snapped, and blood leaked from all of her orifices. Also a new, disturbing trend had started: little chunks of herself kept falling off, as if she were made of stale, crumbling bread. The one respite from her constant trauma was the escape to sleep and dreams.
While Doris slept she dreamed of the young man who brought her groceries. In Doris' dream the young man walked into her apartment and made her feel beautiful. He touched her with delicate fingers, praising everything about her, and Doris let herself go. He was on his knees, worshiping what was between Doris' legs. He held her between his arms and she knew she was loved. It was beautiful, magic, and a complete fantasy. Doris woke up.
“That little ****,” she thought. “He would never, ever, love me that way. Nobody ever has, and nobody ever will.” Doris seethed, her eyes overflowing with bitter tears. Normally she wasn't so weepy, but lately Doris had become rather sloppy.
In fact little had seemed to matter since that incident with the splinter. Normally she was quiet as she could manage, but now she ranted and raved at the top of her lungs for hours, until she would start coughing blood so violently that she couldn't continue. Her masturbation had increased, taking on hatefully perverted themes she had never experienced before. She still didn't dare to leave her apartment though. If those bastards wanted to get her, let them come for her. She wouldn't make it easy; that was for damn sure. Doris had no idea what she meant by that, but it certainly felt right to scream it at the walls of her apartment.
Doris stood up and attempted to feed herself. When she reached for a can of vegetables she broke a finger, and when she reached for the Wonder Bread she found it wasn't where she thought she had left it. Doris looked for the bread, turning around and around like a dog chasing its own tail. She forgot what she was looking for, so sat back down in her chair. Her stomach growled again, and then she repeated the ritual almost exactly the same as before.
The doorbell buzzed, “Hello, Mam! I have your groceries for you!”
“What?! Who? Where are you?” Were they coming for her?
The young man sighed, sadly. “I'm outside your door, Mam. I have your groceries. Why don't you open the door and I'll put them up for you.”
Doris grabbed the heaviest can she could find and approached the door.
The young man continued, “You can pay me next week. I understand if you're... preoccupied.”
Doris flung open the door and the young man gasped; Doris was completely naked and had lesions covering her entire body.
She rose the can above her head.
“Mam! Stop!”
Doris brought the can down upon the young man's head, which knocked him to the ground. She stood naked over him bringing down the soup can again and again, until she was completely exhausted and fell to her knees, her hairy bush hovering above the young man's busted head. Now, that part is over with.
When the young man awoke he was naked, bound at the wrists and ankles, and sat on his knees facing a large bookshelf. Through his headache he heard Doris' voice.
“...loved me? Ha! You never even saw me until tonight.”
The young man interrupted, “Mam, what are you doing? Let me go.” He shifted around in his bondage.
“Oh, you're awake!” Doris paused. The young man heard something rustle against the wooden floor. “Now we can have fun.”
“Mam, please, let me--Ah!” The first crack of the whip hit his back. “Oh ****! Let me go you crazy old *****!”
Doris' whipping arm had exploded with pain after that first strike.
“All those years alone! Why couldn't anyone notice me!? Why did everything have to be so miserable?!” Doris wailed, working herself up into a frenzy.
Doris brought the whip down again and again, taking special care to strike the young man's buttocks and genitals. She was overcome with ecstasy. Nothing had ever felt this good before. She saw the skin of her whipping arm sliding around, that it had torn itself open and was now spilling blood along the wooden planks of the floor. She was a monster, and she was savoring every moment of it.
The man pleaded for Doris to stop, but instead she used her other hand to masturbate while continuing to whip the young man. She whipped him as hard as she could, and as long as she could, until finally his body stopped breathing. That day, Doris felt, she had lost her virginity.
Epilogue
Doris wobbled, and then fell face first onto the ground, her head partially flattened by the fall. Her weak, stringy body seeped into the boards.
A day later the police showed up looking for the young man, and there they found Doris on the ground where she had fallen. They peeled her off the ground, her skin clinging to the floor like cheese pizza, and her right eyeball pulled out sticking to the ground.
From then on she was mute and partially vegetative, but because of the heinous nature of her crime the police put her on trial anyway. She was pronounced guilty and taken to prison. Now at prison she spends her time under her cot, staring out with her one eye at all that she can see. To her destroyed mind each sight is new, and each object is fascinating in itself. There are no more thoughts, only an infant's wonder at the world within view.
Part I
In a third story apartment, in an impoverished area of the city, a woman named Doris lived her whole life alone within two rooms. The walls of both rooms of the apartment were gray and wooden. There were no windows and very few lights in the apartment, and those lights that were present were mostly burnt out. In the room leading into the apartment sat only the barest furnishings. There was no TV, very little that could be called a kitchen, and the entire room more resembled a rustic cabin than an apartment in a busy city. In the bedroom a bleak, lightless bookshelf, filled with books her mother owned but Doris never bothered reading herself, dominated by its massive size. Directly across from the bookshelf was Doris' bed: frilly, ornamental, expensive and ruined beyond repair from decades of use. The entire apartment was old, but felt even older due to its amateur design and total neglect since construction.
Doris certainly didn't care about the state of her apartment. She could barely even be bothered to take care of herself, which made her look far older than her true age of 51. All Doris had ever craved was solitude. And now, thanks to careful saving and leftovers from her inheritance, she was finally able to retire from her hated job as a dentist's assistant. Now Doris could spend nearly all of her time alone in her apartment, basking in her own juices. She didn't even have to leave the apartment for groceries, a handsome young man fetched them for her. What was his name again? Bah, who cares!
The doorbell buzzed. “Hello, Miss... um – Hello Doris! I have your groceries for you!”
Doris grit her teeth in irritation. “Just leave them at the door, I'll get them later.” She looked around the room, “I'm busy right now!”
“Oh well sorry to bother you,” the young man said pathetically. “But I need this week's payment. You see I have to get my father's medication and I-”
Doris flung open the door in a barely contained rage. “That's fine then, here is your money.” Doris looked to the ceiling, “Thank you.”
Bewildered, the young man sat down the groceries at the doorstep and took the money from the woman's hand. “Um, again – sorry to disturb you, Dor- Mam.”
“Thank you!” Doris rang out shrilly, impatient for this unpleasant bit of human interaction to end.
The young man finally left, trying not to hurry away and appear overeager to leave. He thought to himself how sad it was that people started losing their minds when they grew old. “How old is she anyway,” he wondered, “70, 80 years old?”
Doris held the door close waiting for the young man to get out of sight, then when she was sure he was gone, she peeked out from behind the door and bent down to get her groceries. “Ouch!” Her back suddenly hit a sharp nerve and rung out in pain. Doris winced and waited for the pain to subside before bringing the groceries inside.
She brought them over to a small desk she used as a counter, and careful not to let the canned fruit and vegetables spill out, sat them on top. When she pulled away she cried out again. This time it was her arm that hurt. It felt like she had pulled something along the bicep area. She pulled back her sleeve to examine it and found a growing purple spot on her upper arm. Doris couldn't be bothered to care though, so merely sat back down in her chair and stared across the room, waiting for the daze of peaceful sleep to overtake her again.
Part II
Doris felt her stomach growl. She rose out of her creaky chair to eat her everyday meal of Wonder-Bread and canned food-stuff.
“Argh!” Doris fell over onto the floor. Her ankle had given out. Now she had hit her nose against the floor causing an effusion of blood to spread out beneath her face. What was making her body deteriorate? Doris lifted herself off the floor and heard a loud crack, then felt a strange pain in her face.
“Oh no...” Doris hobbled her way to the bathroom area and looked into the mirror. A 6 inch splinter had wedged itself into Doris' cheek, starting at the eye socket and working its way down past the lips. It looked like someone had stabbed her in the face with a chunk of wood. “Oh god.” Doris carefully grabbed hold of the part of the splinter protruding from her skin and tried to drag it out. “Ow!”
The splinter wasn't budging. Doris pulled a little harder, but still the giant splinter wouldn't move. Doris began to panic. This thing had to be removed now. Doris grabbed tight onto the end of the splinter and braced herself. She pulled as hard as she could and the splinter begrudgingly began making its way out of her face. After an inch the pain became so great that Doris started screaming. She kept going though, and a giant tear rode along the splinter's exit. Blood began pouring from the wound as Doris continued to yank as hard as she could. Finally she could pull no longer. The splinter still had two more inches to go before it was released. Doris decided she couldn't take any more pain, so she grabbed where the chunk of wood met her skin and bent it until it snapped off. She had released most of the splinter from her face, but decided it was easier to leave the last bit in there.
Doris looked down through her teary eyes and saw the huge scar she had created. Blood wasn't gushing as hard as before, but it still dripped into the sink, pooling red at the drain. Not knowing what else to do Doris painfully rubbed soap into the cut and washed it out with hot water.
After all this Doris was exhausted so hobbled back to her chair, forgoing her meal entirely. She put her hands on the arm rests to sit herself down, and felt more pain in the palm of her hands. She looked at her palms and found they were all cut up themselves, in places revealing tendons and muscle, from having been severely damaged during the splinter removal. At this last sight of bodily damage she sank into her chair and passed out.
Part III
Over the next week more unexplained injuries occurred to Doris. Bones broke, tendons snapped, and blood leaked from all of her orifices. Also a new, disturbing trend had started: little chunks of herself kept falling off, as if she were made of stale, crumbling bread. The one respite from her constant trauma was the escape to sleep and dreams.
While Doris slept she dreamed of the young man who brought her groceries. In Doris' dream the young man walked into her apartment and made her feel beautiful. He touched her with delicate fingers, praising everything about her, and Doris let herself go. He was on his knees, worshiping what was between Doris' legs. He held her between his arms and she knew she was loved. It was beautiful, magic, and a complete fantasy. Doris woke up.
“That little ****,” she thought. “He would never, ever, love me that way. Nobody ever has, and nobody ever will.” Doris seethed, her eyes overflowing with bitter tears. Normally she wasn't so weepy, but lately Doris had become rather sloppy.
In fact little had seemed to matter since that incident with the splinter. Normally she was quiet as she could manage, but now she ranted and raved at the top of her lungs for hours, until she would start coughing blood so violently that she couldn't continue. Her masturbation had increased, taking on hatefully perverted themes she had never experienced before. She still didn't dare to leave her apartment though. If those bastards wanted to get her, let them come for her. She wouldn't make it easy; that was for damn sure. Doris had no idea what she meant by that, but it certainly felt right to scream it at the walls of her apartment.
Doris stood up and attempted to feed herself. When she reached for a can of vegetables she broke a finger, and when she reached for the Wonder Bread she found it wasn't where she thought she had left it. Doris looked for the bread, turning around and around like a dog chasing its own tail. She forgot what she was looking for, so sat back down in her chair. Her stomach growled again, and then she repeated the ritual almost exactly the same as before.
The doorbell buzzed, “Hello, Mam! I have your groceries for you!”
“What?! Who? Where are you?” Were they coming for her?
The young man sighed, sadly. “I'm outside your door, Mam. I have your groceries. Why don't you open the door and I'll put them up for you.”
Doris grabbed the heaviest can she could find and approached the door.
The young man continued, “You can pay me next week. I understand if you're... preoccupied.”
Doris flung open the door and the young man gasped; Doris was completely naked and had lesions covering her entire body.
She rose the can above her head.
“Mam! Stop!”
Doris brought the can down upon the young man's head, which knocked him to the ground. She stood naked over him bringing down the soup can again and again, until she was completely exhausted and fell to her knees, her hairy bush hovering above the young man's busted head. Now, that part is over with.
When the young man awoke he was naked, bound at the wrists and ankles, and sat on his knees facing a large bookshelf. Through his headache he heard Doris' voice.
“...loved me? Ha! You never even saw me until tonight.”
The young man interrupted, “Mam, what are you doing? Let me go.” He shifted around in his bondage.
“Oh, you're awake!” Doris paused. The young man heard something rustle against the wooden floor. “Now we can have fun.”
“Mam, please, let me--Ah!” The first crack of the whip hit his back. “Oh ****! Let me go you crazy old *****!”
Doris' whipping arm had exploded with pain after that first strike.
“All those years alone! Why couldn't anyone notice me!? Why did everything have to be so miserable?!” Doris wailed, working herself up into a frenzy.
Doris brought the whip down again and again, taking special care to strike the young man's buttocks and genitals. She was overcome with ecstasy. Nothing had ever felt this good before. She saw the skin of her whipping arm sliding around, that it had torn itself open and was now spilling blood along the wooden planks of the floor. She was a monster, and she was savoring every moment of it.
The man pleaded for Doris to stop, but instead she used her other hand to masturbate while continuing to whip the young man. She whipped him as hard as she could, and as long as she could, until finally his body stopped breathing. That day, Doris felt, she had lost her virginity.
Epilogue
Doris wobbled, and then fell face first onto the ground, her head partially flattened by the fall. Her weak, stringy body seeped into the boards.
A day later the police showed up looking for the young man, and there they found Doris on the ground where she had fallen. They peeled her off the ground, her skin clinging to the floor like cheese pizza, and her right eyeball pulled out sticking to the ground.
From then on she was mute and partially vegetative, but because of the heinous nature of her crime the police put her on trial anyway. She was pronounced guilty and taken to prison. Now at prison she spends her time under her cot, staring out with her one eye at all that she can see. To her destroyed mind each sight is new, and each object is fascinating in itself. There are no more thoughts, only an infant's wonder at the world within view.