Pygmalion
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Pygmalion
Clarissa was a sullen lump that watched TV most of the day with her mouthopen and a surprised look on her face. She had not always been like this butJames had to admit with hindsight, the potential was always there. John hadintroduced him to Clarissa at the office party where she seemed full of funand ended up back at James' apartment where they spent the night together invigorous copulation. She had introduced him to acts he had only heard his friendssalaciously discussing in the bar after work. James realised with his appallingrecord with women, if it wasn't for Clarissa all those exotic acts he had experiencedwith her, would still be some vague longing in his inadequate imagination.Even accepting the debt of gratitude he owed her, he found he could not deceivehimself. She disgusted him.
He poured himself a carrot juice and walked across the polished wooden floorto the large sliding windows that led out onto the balcony. Sliding open thehuge pane of glass he looked round at his open plan apartment furnished withicons of twentieth century design. For all his financial success and all hisimpeccable taste, he could not change his pinched acne face or his short sightedvision that required almost spherical lenses. He pushed his thick glasses backonto the bridge of his nose at the thought of his unresponsive eyes and walkedout onto the balcony that looked out over the Thames. What was the point ofit all if he could not attract the woman of his dreams? Clarissa remained satin front of the TV that dominated the wall like a cinema screen. He lookedround at her sat there in her luxury lingerie. Like him she needed more thanmoney could buy to be attractive.
Voices chirped from below, he looked down. Charlotte, his neighbour downstairs,was entertaining a friend. He leaned over the balcony a little more to seethe cleavage of the two women below as they leant against the balcony rail.Charlotte had a fine pair he thought but her friend's grabbed his attention,as they where so large and uplifted so much, her nipples were almost exposed.As he strained his neck a little more to get a better view, he accidentallyspilt the carrot juice. He watched in horror as the great globule of orangeliquid splattered in the cleft of the two enormous mammary glands. Retreatingfrom the rail he froze so not as to make a sound and give himself away.
"Eek!" was the initial shriek from below, followed by the sound of someonedancing up and down "Oh god oh god oh god bird shit!"
"Yuck! That's funny bird shit."
"Maybe its bird diarrhoea?' said a trembling voice "wipe it off wipe itoff!" The commotion continued.
James very slowly tip toed back into the apartment, praying he wouldn'tmake a sound. Once inside he slid shut the window in silence before he at lastallowed himself to exhale. His eyes burnt into the back of Clarissa's headas though it was all her fault. Her breasts were formless, he thought, movingoff at a tangent. Well they weren't formless, that was impossible as they existedbut they had no aesthetic form, he debated to himself. He irritated himselfat moments like this for his lack of clarity. All his success had rested onclarity of thought and decisive action but alas, that was in his work lifeand for some reason he found those qualities inexplicably absent in his privatelife. Numbers, he was happy with numbers, one had to get into great depth beforethey confused but they still behaved predictably. Clarissa remained gawkingat the TV, encased in a world of her own.
'You gormless slut.' He hissed. No response. He went over to the kitchenetteand putting his glass down on the counter, opened the cutlery draw. Everythingwas in its place and so to hand which was how he liked things to be. Takingout the carving knife he felt the blade. Like a razor he thought. He creptacross the room until he was square behind Clarissa. Holding the knife in twohands he held it aloft before bringing it down on Clarissa. The knife glancedoff her head as his knuckles hit her crown, knocking her forward onto the floorbefore it ended up stuck in the couch. Immediately he jumped over the couchand landed on Clarissa's back, thrusting the knife into her. There was notso much as a squeal, all she could manage was a little fart sound. A strangemixture of carbolic and stale breath filled his nostrils, he heaved a little.Standing up he took the knife and washed it in the sink of the kitchenettebefore replacing it in the correct position in the drawer. Time for a celebrationhe thought, pouring a whiskey from the decanter that had sat on the drinkscabinet, he swallowed it in one. He straightened his hair and tie before puttingon his jacket. It was early evening and late enough to think about gettinglathered in the wine bar.
The lift stopped at the floor below his and in stepped Charlotte and herfriend. Charlotte was a beauty, the mythical English Rose, pale porcelain smoothskin and rich. Her crystal accent chimed money when she spoke. Her friend howeverwas butt ugly with an upturned nose that resembled a snout and large teeththat seemed to make closing her mouth impossible. Despite this, on his scaleof expectations she was up there, she was a looker. She was at least fiftypounds heavier than he was, though at least thirty of those pounds were herbreasts, which cantilevered out with the help of some undergarment superstructure.The other twenty was on her arse that acted as a counter weight to her breastsand enabled her to have a proud upright posture. With udders and haunches tomatch, she was a cow concluded James but what was he if not a warty toad?
'Hello James!' said Charlotte in her normal way that gave the impressionshe was always happy to see him. Happy that she would never have to sink lowenough to sleep with him he thought. 'This is Jasmine.' She said introducingher friend 'Jasmine this is James, my upstairs neighbour.'
'Hello.' Said Jasmine holding out her hand. The same crystal accent thoughtJames with relish. Jasmine was suddenly becoming increasingly attractive asshe spoke!
The lift opened into a small foyer that led out into the street that wasseparated by a skin of glass. Outside they pushed themselves through a throngof people that visited the old dock area for the museums and gift shops thathad been part of its gentrification. As they meandered through the crowd theyall found themselves a little way down the street at the entrance of Mason'sWine Bar.
'Ah James.' Exclaimed Charlotte over enthusiastically 'You are in need alittle medicine too?'
'Just one of those days.' Said James, remembering Clarissa lying on his apartmentfloor 'I'm in the mood to get bladdered.' If he thought Charlotte's sociabilitywas an invitation to join them he was mistaken. As he went to sit on his normalperch at the bar, the women went and sat near the window and waited for thewaiter. He ordered a Merlot but it didn't taste. Not that there was a problemwith the wine, it was the fact he was alone, he needed something stronger.Jazz was being quietly piped round the bar, usually he never noticed the musicbut today it was reminding him how much he hated jazz. Like chalk squealingon a blackboard he thought but to admit to such blasphemy amongst his peerswould have made him a target for mockery. How noise without rules can be describedas music had always foxed him. He looked towards the women who were busy competingwith each other in the gossip stakes, neither seeming to take a breath shouldadvantage be surrendered to the other.
James occupied himself by blowing silent raspberries, a way of fending offboredom and so depression. He was conscious the alcohol was making him sinkrather than lifting him as he continually scanned the room. It was then, henoticed the women had company. At some point a male or more accurately, a studfor Charlotte had joined the women. He looked round for a second male but theredidn't seem to be one, the trio was sat evenly around the small round table.What initially he had took as a personal blow now had his imagination workingovertime. Charlotte's friend Jasmine was playing gooseberry. If Charlotte didn'twant Jasmine out of the way you could bet your Porche the stud did. The thoughtand the alcohol had warmed him. There were certain things a man had to do andtelling a woman that if she made the right moves, she could end the night witha virile hot sweaty male was one of them. He ordered a refill and saunterednonchalantly between the tables and over to the group by the window.
'Yes?' Said a blond haired, square chinned, Australian beach bum lookingup at him. James looked blankly at the three faces looking at him in expectation.He decided he hated Australians but this didn't help his immediate problem,of him looking like a complete imbecile, as he stood there with his mouth open.Charlotte nodded slightly as she gave a broad artificial smile, willing himto answer. He was aware of a vacant space expanding in his head and suppressingall meaningful thought. Swilling the wine round his glass he imagined flyingacross the room and giving the Australian a scissor kick to the head.
Jasmine broke the silence 'Were you going to ask me for a drink?' she saidguessing correctly. By this time James had lost his capacity to talk. His preoccupationin moments like this, as to why he never experiences such a problem at work,only increased his social handicap. Jasmine began to look embarrassed as theincreasing length of silence made her appear desperate. Her discomfort increasedhis discomfort until he was totally paralysed.
'Why don't you just butt out matey.' Said the Australian. James struck aKarate pose and made a low humming sound, followed by a yell as he karate kickedthe Australian's head off his shoulders. Unfortunately this episode only tookplace in his head and his only real response to the Australian was to remainopen mouthed and fixed to the floor.
Jasmine decided if she was going to get a male, she was going to have totake a little more initiative. 'I'll have a drink with you.' She said witha forced smile as she braced herself for another knock back.
A couple of people pushing past James as they made for the exit broke hisself-destructive spell 'Wonderful.' He said in quiet amazement. Jasmine gotup to join him as Charlotte gave her a wink of encouragement, understandingshe did not have the attributes to be too choosy. James peed in the Australian'sglass of wine and put up two fingers up at him or at least he wished had thecourage to do it. He took Jasmine gently by the arm as one would an old ladyand led her towards the bar where he was most comfortable. James returned tohis perch and guided Jasmine onto hers where they sat and began coo at eachother, while Charlotte and the Australian took the opportunity to leave.
James shut the door behind himself and let a smug smile broaden across hisface. A little more work on Jasmine and bingo! He took off his jacket and threwit across the chair while loosening his tie with broad expansive gestures.He quick stepped over to the drinks cabinet with his invisible partner in histhrall. 'Tonight you shall surrender your honour Mademoiselle.' He said witha Cluseauesque accent. Just as he was about to pour himself a night cap whilecontemplating the dark arts of seduction, there was a knock on the door. Itrather disquieted him, as though he was being spied on. He composed himselfas quickly as possible before going over to the door and looking through thespy hole. Jasmine's face looked more bloated than it was in reality by thewide angled lens. Hurriedly he fumbled the door open.
'It appears Charlotte is still out with Cobber!' A tipsy Jasmine exclaimedrather loudly.
'You don't have a key?' Asked an unsettled but excited James.
'Of course I do!' she said 'That's why I'm here.'
'You'd better come in.' He said.
Jasmine wobbled through the door a little uncertain on her feet 'For a momentI thought you was going to leave me out there.'
'No no.' he said apologetically 'Come in and make yourself comfortable.'Just then he remembered Clarissa was on the floor on the in front of the couch.Taking hold of Jasmine's shoulders he directed her in the direction of thedrinks cabinet 'Why don't you pour us a drink.' She obediently allowed herselfto be guided and wobbled like a duck over to the drinks while James rushedover to the couch. Clarissa was still lying prostrate where he had left her,her surprised expression fixed towards the ceiling. He got down on his kneesand shoved her under the couch, making sure no errant limbs were exposed. Strugglingback to his feet he thought Christ! Only a drunk could miss her.
Jasmine turned propelling herself almost full circle before correcting herself.'Damn!' She bellowed, causing James' heart into a fit of frenzied palpitationsas he assumed she had spotted Clarissa. 'I don't want a drink.' She said emphatically'I want a fuck!'
Lord mercy, he thought. Fantasy is one thing, the actual act of congressquite another! Perhaps Jasmine discovering Clarissa's butchered corpse wasthe least of his worries. In a single movement she had unfastened and steppedout of her scarlet pencil dress. The vision of Jasmine striding towards himin her black micro thong and black lace bra with its invisible engineeringthat propelled her breasts forward like zeppelins looked positively dangerous.Before he had the chance to yelp help! He could feel his face being suckedoff while she rubbed her hands feverishly though his hair. There was no otherchoice but to submit to the marauding amazon or to chance ending up in a similarcondition to Clarissa. It didn't really matter, whether he was submitting orbeing savaged he could not see what difference it would have made. His shirtwas being ripped off his back while at the same time he was being robbed ofhis trousers. As far as he could tell she had three hands. Just when he thoughthe had her roaming hands in checkmate, up popped another hand insistent onmolesting him from another angle.
'Rip my thong off!' Breathing her command all over him. 'I'm your slut!'With his head firmly fixed in the cleavage and her thong being so small, ittook what seemed an eternity to find it. Eventually he grasped the flimsy garmentand yanked it off. 'You brute!' she accused. Then taking his head plunged itbetween her thighs. He gargled helplessly as she pressed his face in her dampcleft. Not taking the chance on male incompetence at unfastening a bra, sheripped hers off. Then taking hold of James' ears, lifted his face back up tobetween her breasts and began to slap him violently about the head with them,before wrestling him through the door and onto the bedroom.
Jasmine lay looking up at the ceiling traumatised while James lay on her,his head buried between her breasts in shame. Neither one wanting to startthe post mortem for fear of its revelations but both knowing something neededto be said.
'Its like an empty salami skin.' She complained 'Am I so repulsive not evenyou can't salute me?'
James missed the hidden insult, as his head remained pressed between herbreasts totally humiliated 'Noo' he said weakly 'It's not that at all.'
'Did I come on too strong?' Quizzed Jasmine.
'I'm not used to a woman with such strong wants, needs and desires.' He admittedas he clumsily tried to explain.
She took a hold of his hair and lifted his head so she could look him inthe eye 'Are you saying I'm a nymphomaniac?'
'Nooo.' His voice trembled. 'You just scared me.'
'So you DO think I'm a nymphomaniac!' With that she spun him off her likea wrestler escaping an opponent. James landed with a bang on the floor andfelt the full weight of Jasmine as she stood on him as she left the room 'Ineed a drink.' She said exasperated 'I've never been told I was a man eatingslut before.' If only she was she would be in her seventh heaven she thought.James lay winded on the floor, struggling to get his breath after being deflatedby Jasmine's dynamic weight. After a short while he gathered enough strengthand dragged himself onto the bed like a half drowned sailor pulling himselfaboard a dinghy. Burying his head into the pillow in the absence of Jasmine'sbreasts, he desperately thought how he could escape the situation with justa modicum of his ego intact. Meanwhile out in the lounge he could hear thechinking of glass and Jasmine moving around agitated muttering constantly butwhich he could only pick out sketchy snippets.'….never been so insulted…..I'ma turn off…that Mr Weedy is no…' Grabbing a second pillow hepulled it over his head to form a protective cocoon. In the end he found itimpossible to blank out the world or was he just conscious of Jasmine standingin the doorway. He extricated his head from the sandwich of pillows and lookedtowards the door that framed a silhouette of Jasmine. She was holding up whatappeared to be a shadow that had shed its ethereal nature and had taken ona more solid form.
'Is this yours?' She asked accusingly.
'Heh heh heh…' He tried to laugh 'It was just a prankish thing froman office party.' There was something unconvincing about his explanation whichstemmed from his own lack of belief.
She fingered the crotch of the shadowy figure 'Ugh! Its slimy.' Before smellingher fingers 'Yuck!' she said recoiling.
'Its not what you think.' He protested with little belief.
'You fuck this but you can't fuck me?' She said pleading for an explanationthat made some sense to her.
'Well ..yes..but.. its er..' His tongued knotted as he squirmed.
'Jesus! You need therapy.' She lectured.
What the hell he thought. He might as well be honest, he thought, thingsjust couldn't get any worse. 'That's Clarissa. She's the only woman I haveever been with.' What was he saying? Was he requesting, a straight jacket?'I killed her this morning.' Yes he was, he wanted to be certified.
Jasmine turned on the light, illuminating Clarissa who she held by the neck,the rest of her dangling, likes a piece of flayed hide. James looked at Clarissa'ssurprised expression with a hint of nostalgia. She had never made any demandsof him, never made him feel inadequate, she was always there ready and willingin his darkest hours. If he felt pitiful, he looked pitiful and more than hethought he did. The sheer sight of such a weak male brought the therapist outin Jasmine. She gave him a look that suggested he wasn't much but he was allshe had which sent shivers rippling through him.
'You.' She commanded pointing a finger at him 'Stay here.' She waited foran acknowledgement but she could see from the wreckage on the bed he was inno condition to wander off anywhere. 'When I shout you, you come into the lounge.Okay?' He gave the slightest nod, which was all she required. Turning she closedthe door behind her leaving him in the bedroom alone. He let out an audiblesigh of relief as he lay back and felt his body relax. There was nothing leftto worry about, his humiliation if it was not total before was certainly totalnow. In a matter of hours the world would know he fucked blow up dolls. A serenefeeling had fell upon him like a gentle mist. It must be something like thefeeling that befalls a person coming to terms with their imminent death.
After a short period of silence Jasmine bellowed 'James!' and before he couldrespond she repeated herself with a scream 'James!' James sat up like a nervousrodent on hearing an approaching tomcat. Fearful of the predatory female inthe next room but more fearful of not obeying her, he braced himself as hestood up. 'James!' He jolted like he had been prodded with an electric wand.
'Coming.' Came his trembling reply. Nervously he advanced towards the door,scared as to what he might find on the other side. Gently pushing open thedoor he peered into the lounge. At first he saw nothing but Clarissa thrownover the back of the couch like a discarded skin. Taking a few more intrepidsteps into the room he saw a figure on the floor in front of the minimal designedfireplace where a gas fire attempted realistic flames. The figure was motionlessas a corpse but retained the vibrancy of a body bristling with latent energy.He inched closer should the body detonate. On closer inspection it was Jasminelying in the same passive pose in which Clarissa was fixed when inflated. Herface was painted heavily with makeup mimicking Clarissa's surprised expression.Red spherical blotches decorated her cheeks and exaggerated scarlet lips circledher open mouth. She had contoured her body with lines of mascara to indicateseams. The overall effect prompted a stunning reaction in James, bypassinghis brain and penetrating deep into his psyche. His stomach felt like it wasbeing gently kneaded and growth took place between his legs with astonishingspeed and strength. With this growth in his stature came a parallel growthin his confidence.
'Don't dare move!' He commanded and then threatened 'Or I'll deflate you.'She immediately understood that she was not to react in anyway to his attention,something she found disturbingly erotic. It was the antithesis of her wholemanner. Normally she shrieked, no she screamed in ecstasy or at least she thoughtshe would if she was given the chance. He parted her legs slightly as he kneltbetween them. Her eyes fluttered in anticipation 'Don't!' He said sternly,giving her a keen slap to the thigh. She felt her state of arousal heightenat this admonishment and began to blink purposely when necessary, like shehad a doll's weighted eyeballs.
It was a savage night and if Jasmine were Clarissa she would not have survived,however she saw no reason to complain. In fact the man handling had turnedher into a pressurised volcano that periodically blew. If she had been in amore rational state of mind as opposed to being totally lost in carnal pleasureshe would admit to being impressed by the animal James had turned into. Shehad never before been picked up like a waif and served up on a table or thrownacross the back of an armchair to be attacked from behind. Nor had she beenforced fed an angry member while hanging from a banister. It was as exhilaratingas it was dangerous, for she was often in danger of suffering concussion byher own breasts. As for James, he had amazed himself, his chest puffed up withpride with how much power his scrawny body packed. But the body has its limitsand eventually their energy was sapped and they both fell into a deep and satisfyingsleep.
Jasmine's angelic snoring woke James who had fallen to sleep with his headon her bosom. She was laid on the rug in front of the fire with her limbs spreadout like she had been pole axed. Her substantial breasts were rising and fallingin a steady rhythm, as if choreographed at some Swiss finishing school. Hewas amused how at intervals her nose would twitch before she would give a snortand then resume snoring again. It all gave the impression of a blue blood mannerismthat could not be faked by lesser people. Her snoring was posh and he was impressed.In the reverie the dolls make up on her face had somewhat smudged as with theseams of mascara that defined her statuesque bulk. This however did not diminishthe overall effect on James as its stimulus was still potent. She was gorgeoushe thought! He stood up where he could study her better, she was all womanand she had been satisfied by he, all man! Turning he went out onto the balcony,naked as a monkey in a jungle and looked out over the Thames. His batteredmember somewhat sore from the night's events was soothed as it dangled in thecool morning breeze. Cupping his hands he put them to his mouth while fillinghis lungs before bellowing a Tarzen yell across the river. AaaahhhhhhaaaAAAaahhhhhhaaaAAAaaahhhHHH!!!!!!
Geraldine
- 03.06.2020
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