Wrath James White presents Poisoning Eros I & II (3 page)

She could have gotten out but she hadn’t saved any
of the money she’d earned—so much of it went up her nose or into a
vein—and she couldn’t imagine herself as a truck-stop waitress or
crawling back to Ryan with her tail tucked between her legs and her
red blood cell count plummeting. So instead, she made her way back
east and fucked animals and whatever the hell that thing was she'd
been ravaged by the night before. It was a living, and thanks to
the heroin she hardly felt the pain in her body or her pride.

*

A week passed, and Gloria had
managed to put the strange ordeal behind her, for the most part.
Her bruises had all but healed, and so had her torn and partially
prolapsed anus and vagina. The fifty thousand was almost gone.
Converted to hard liquor and hard drugs.

The two geeks called. “Hey, Gloria! We found a
giraffe! We’re trying to figure out how we can rig up a harness
underneath it so that you can fuck the thing. Its cock is like
three feet long! If you can do it we’ll pay you a thousand dollars
a foot!” He apparently found that immensely funny. “But seriously.
If you can’t fuck it you can give the thing head for the usual
thousand. We’ll call you tomorrow.”

Gloria hung up, fell back onto the bed in tears. Her
life had become a horror show. A giraffe? Those sick fuckers! But
she knew she’d do it. Soon she’d be out of money, out of drugs. She
was almost broke again and in the last week her habit had doubled.
Whereas she previously only made just enough money to keep herself
from getting sick, with the fifty gees she’d had enough to actually
get high again and so she had, two or three times a day. Those
fucking geeks could make her do anything now as long as they could
keep her in horse.

The phone rang again. Gloria rolled over and
hesitantly picked it up. “Yes.”

“Gloria?” His unctuous voice crawled over her skin
like a bucket of leeches.

Gloria shivered. “Who is this?” But she already
knew.

“Bill Vlad. You made a film for me last week. It was
sensational! I’ve sold almost a million copies already. You’re a
star again!”

“Are you serious?” Gloria’s vanity reawakened.

“Absolutely.”

“How come I haven’t seen it on the shelves in any
video stores?’

“Most of my clientele don’t frequent video stores.
They’re clamoring for more, Gloria. How’d you like to make another
fifty thousand?”

The answer was never in question. She called the two
geeks back and told them to fuck the giraffe themselves.

*

The teenaged boy was lying on a bed, chains wrapped
around wrists and ankles. His thin body was covered in welts and
bruises, and his breath was a cloud of steam, despite the
oppressive heat and humidity of the room.

“Whoa! What the fuck is this? How old is that kid? I
don’t do kiddy porn!” Gloria turned to leave. Bill Vlad stepped in
front of her to block her exit, twirling his moustache like some
silent film villain.

“And I don’t do kiddy porn either, my lovely.
Stuart’s seventeen. The age of consent in this state is
sixteen.”

Gloria looked at the boy, who was writhing on the
bed, growling, tugging at his restraints. “It doesn’t look like
he’s consenting to me. Why’s he tied down?”

Bill Vlad smiled. Gloria noticed that his teeth were
filed to points. She shuddered, remembering the invisible thing
that had gnawed at her breasts and clitoris.

“Because he’s possessed.”

“What?”

“Stuart there has a rather nasty demon inside him. I
want you to have sex with that demon.”

“My god. You’re crazy.”

“No. Not at all.” Bill smiled again and pointed at
Stuart. “Don’t you want to be a star again?”

No
, she thought.
Not like this. It’s not
worth it
. She was sure Stuart was a child. Even if he was of
legal consenting age, this was wrong. It was disturbing and
nauseating and probably illegal. She glanced up at Vlad and
believed it very unlikely he was going to let her leave without
doing what she’d been paid to do. But too much of that new payment
had already been promised to her dealers even before she’d touched
the money. She couldn’t afford to quit now.

Gloria pulled her dress over her head, her massive
breasts slipping from a bra sized somewhere in the middle of the
alphabet. Vlad smiled, wiped the back of his hand across his bottom
lip and set up the video camera.

The bed leapt off the ground nearly a foot and
skirted three feet closer to Gloria, sliding across the splintered
and warped hardwood floor like a Ouija board planchette. She felt
her legs wobble as she stared into young Stuart’s eyes, which had
rolled up into his head, revealing only the whites. Those white
orbs followed her movements; it was clear that he could still see
her.

She crossed her arms over her bare chest, nipples
tickling her skin, her body trembling in cold and fear and
excitement. This was new territory; there was no mistaking that.
Even if this was some kind of trick, it sure as hell was
convincing. Gloria has never been particularly religious—she’d
given up on God years ago when it was clear he’d given up on her
first—but this was just too …

Vlad cleared his throat but didn’t say anything. He
obviously wanted to give Gloria some time, but she guessed he
didn’t mean forever.

It was time to earn her money. The drugs had kicked
in and were earning their worth. Gloria slipped out of her
underwear and moved onto the bed. Never mind, she thought. Tricks.
All tricks. Fuck this already, I need my money.

Gloria crawled up the boy’s hairless torso, kissing
his flesh along the way. Her saliva boiled wherever it landed on
his skin and her tongue began to blister. She moved back down his
body. Her face was inches from his cock when it began to elongate,
ripping the skin as it swelled to a length nearly that of the
donkey she’d fucked little more than a week ago.

Sallow fat and strawberry-red muscle fiber oozed
through the tears in his skin as his cock swelled, now thicker than
a wrist and as long as a child’s arm. Blood and semen ran down the
sides like lava from an erupting volcano.

Gloria slid her tongue over the head, and the cum
was thick and chunky, like curdled milk. The boy howled and his
skin began to tear everywhere, his body leaking blood onto the
mattress.

Gloria jumped up. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this!
What the hell is wrong with this kid? Does he have some kind of
disease or something?”

“I told you. He’s possessed. Now climb up on his
cock and fuck the devil out of him!” Bill Vlad laughed, and licked
his razor sharp teeth until his tongue bled.

Gloria turned back to look at the boy’s enormous
suppurating cock, and then at his body, which was now crosshatched
with slashes and welts from his forehead to his groin.

“Jesus,” she muttered, climbing back onto the bed,
visions of dollar signs dancing in her head. Disease or no disease,
she had to fuck this kid. She straddled his engorged muscle and
slowly lowered herself onto it. It burned into the center of her
body as it slid deeper and deeper, skewering her. The boy began to
convulse, thrusting up into her so hard she could hear bones
snapping in his back and pelvis, could feel her own organs shift.
Blood trickled from her own mouth as the boy’s cock thrust deeper
and deeper. She tried to climb off but was trapped, impaled on the
massive organ.

The boy’s breath reminded her of the time a
methamphetamine lab had exploded in her old apartment and the
entire place had burned down, with half the tenants still trapped
inside. The smell was death, smoke, burned flesh. It was disease
and decay, like cancer patients rotting from the inside out. He
coughed a cloud of noxious smoke into her face. His tongue snaked
out of his mouth, extending nearly a full ten inches and coiling
around her gumdrop nipples.

She looked at his eyes. Bulging, bursting blood
vessels created a kaleidoscope swirl, and the pressure proved to be
too much. His eyes exploded, leaving only bloody craters in his
face. Gloria sobbed and turned away but continued to ride the boy’s
massive cock, still unable to climb off of it. His tongue raped her
face as his cock pulsed within her, scalding her like a white-hot
poker, like drinking gallons of boiling oil, like a rampant fever
turned inward. She was beyond screaming. Smoke billowed out of her
mouth.

The boy’s nose exploded, one nostril resting on each
side of his face. His smile stretched until the corners of his
mouth tore, his cheeks ripping all the way back to the hinge of his
jaw. His chest split, the ribs cracking and tearing through his
torso, displaying his intestines, his pulsing heart.

He broke his restraints and grabbed Gloria by her
hips, pushing her onto her back. He thrust harder, deeper, even as
his skin ruptured, even as he literally fell apart, still he fucked
the aging porno queen. His insides poured out onto her body, and
still he fucked as if on remote control, his face an unrecognizable
mash above her own.

Gloria found her voice again and screamed, over and
over. Bill Vlad was right beside her with the video camera,
grinning like a boy watching his first stag film, taping
everything.

Something huge tore its way out of Stuart’s body,
finally disengaging Gloria from the boy’s cock, knocking her to the
floor.

“You’re mine,” she heard Vlad say. “You work only
for me. Understand?”

She passed out after glimpsing the dark shadowy
thing that was fleeing the room.

*

Back inside her apartment. She woke staring at
another fifty thousand dollars stacked on her nightstand. Her lips
curled into something of a smile, despite the headache—although it
was nothing compared to what she expected to have. She had no
delusions that last night had actually been a dream (nightmare?),
that it had been some extraordinarily bad trip from a dust-laced
hit of whatever the fuck she’d taken. The dull aching in her cunt
was too much of a reminder that last night had been real.

But real what? She could accept that something had
happened, and all she knew was that she didn’t want to dwell on it.
Heaven and hell were the farthest things from her mind these past
twenty-odd years. The spiritual, and whatever trappings went along
with it, were overshadowed by the poignancy of her everyday
existence. Some part of her believed that the previous night might
have been a supernatural experience, but her pragmatic side refused
to believe it was anything more than a drug-induced
hallucination.

And he’d call again, she knew. The man who called
himself Vlad—how quaint—wasn’t finished with her. She was sure of
it.

Gloria fingered the stacks of money, stroked it like
a lover, inhaled its perfume.

Fifty gees were no longer enough.

But she also had to admit that she was intrigued on
some level by what Vlad might offer next.

*

The terrible happened. Vlad didn’t call. Not the next
day, nor the day after that. Two weeks passed, and then three,
which eventually morphed into months, and Gloria gave up on ever
hearing from him again.

Poverty was a strong incentive for desperate moves.
Her landlord had threatened eviction—she was months behind in her
rent now—and she was blowing dealers for dime bags of pot. So she
thought about the geeks and their giraffe and wondered if they’d
hire her again. She couldn’t wait for Vlad any more.

Their apartment, where they did most their filming
outside of the barn, was a huge loft in the West Village, in an
industrial area where they wouldn’t be disturbed by neighbors or
police. The door was unlocked for her, as always, and she entered
the building.

“Here’s our star!” Jordan took her hands and pulled
her inside the room. “How’ve you been, Gloria? We considered taking
your advice but didn’t want to fuck the giraffe ourselves. Thanks
for offering though.”

She didn’t bother responding to that. Instead, she
said, “So what’s the deal?”

“Animal gangbang. Think you can handle it?”

She shrugged and then nodded. “I’ve done worse.”

Colin looked up from working on setting up the
camera and laughed. “Worse? That I’d like to see.”

“How much?” she asked.

“Two thousand.”

“Not enough. I need ten.”

Jordan shook his head, flashed his charming (so he
seemed to think) smile. “No way, Gloria.”

Gloria waited before responding, knowing this stall
tactic often made people uncomfortable. Jordan didn’t seem to care.
“No one else on this planet will do the shit that I do. And you
know you can’t turn back from here, can’t go back to simple doggy
fucks. Your audience will never accept that.”

His smile faltered. “Three thousand.”

“Seven.”

“Five. Final offer.”

Gloria nodded. “Five.” She was playing with him.
She’d do a few things with the animals but would hold off a bit.
There was a lot more money than five thousand dollars to be
had—these guys were making a fortune off of her. Time to share the
wealth.

Jordan took her hand and led her across the room.
Gloria had already heard the various noises coming from this side
of the loft, so she had a general idea of what sort of animals were
back here. A pack of dogs? A cow? She wondered how they managed to
get their hands on these animals. How was she supposed to fuck a
cow? Maybe they’d just have her play with the teats or
something.

“Start off with the dogs,” Jordan said. He went over
to the dog kennel and released three of them onto the set.

Several cameras had been mounted on tripods, and
Colin went around the set, checking them all.

“Let me know when you’re set,” Jordan said to Colin.
To Gloria: “Time to get undressed. Right?”