Conversations From The Fetus Jar:
Vera Vicious

 

he lived a modest life, to say the most. the times were of the wretched & the poor & he was no different than any other. he was lucky to even have a job & for that he was thankful. his job was also an important one. with no work to be done due to a rapidly rising unemployment rate & a general lack of anything else to do sex had become everyone's favorite passtime. people fucked in their homes, in their beds, under their beds, in the shower, in their cars, those that were lucky enough to own one. they fucked in the streets, sidewalks were littered, not with trash, but with naked bodies ravishing each other, moaning into the cum-stained concrete all hours of the day, their hot, sweating skin leaving greasy spots on the sidewalks. while this could be highly irritating sometimes, for milton it was a blessing, a blessing that kept his job at a high demand. milton was a travaling salesman. he went from door to door asking scowling faces if they wished to buy a homemade abortion kit. all that sex produced a lot of babies. a lot of babies nobody wanted. on a good day, he could sell over 100 of the kits. men & women of all ages, colors, shapes & sizes eagerly emptied what little they carried in their pockets, change purses & wallets just to obtain the kit that would enable them to rid themselves of that unwanted nuisance. the kits were relatively simple to throw together: a metal coat hanger & a bottle of lube was the quickest & easiest kit to put together. he sold a lot of those. it seemed to be a favorite among the masses. another kit that sold well consisted of a suction cup attached to a vacuum. it was small, but strong. it sucked a babies guts right out of the womb, he had seen it. the disposal bag was clear so that one could actually see the babies guts getting sucked through the vacuum. this method was popular because one could easily find someone willing to pay a pretty penny for the fetus guts. some people needed food, some people needed money. he also carried a wide variety of abortion drugs with him. they were expenisve, though, so it was rare that someone would purchase these. some people preferred to wait until the baby was born & then do away with it. these people were looked upon as inhumane & evil. the methods for killing the infant when it was alive & well weren't that different from having an abortion. some people would throw the new-born infant into the scummy, polluted river & let it drown. some would sell it to the highest bidder. it would either be eaten or forced into slavery when it was old enough, which would be around 5 or 6 at the latest. not everyone appreciated the public service milton provided. they thought of him as maligant & said that what he was doing was wrong. he thought of it as doing the public a favor. he was fighting for the common good. they couldn't have thousands of little rodents running around everywhere now could they? besides, the same people that criticsized milton & his efforts to fight for the common good, would often come begging for his services. "please sell me a kit!" they would cry. "please, please, sell me a kit! i must get rid of this!" & he would laugh in their faces & then charge them double. even though his service was in high demand, he still only lived a modest life, as did everyone else. times were rough, no one had any money. he could only charge what the average person could afford to pay & that wasn't very much. he never complained though, because he knew he could be worse off. besides, sometimes he would allow the women with no money to pay him with sexual favors. he almost liked that more than money. on a few occasions he even allowed the men to pay him in sexual favors. sex was sex. no one cared anymore. they had a vague understanding of what gender was, but most of the time it wasn't an issue. sex was sex & it didn't matter how you got it or who you got it from. sex was the topic of every conversation, tv stations played pornographic programming all day & night, there were no more magazines or books with words, aside from the occasional collection of erotic stories, all books & magazines contained pornographic pictures. some of these were even put together by families & then sold out of large bins on the street, among all the moaning & groaning & love-spilling. sex, sex, sex. that's all anyone ever thought about. milton was thinking about sex as he made his daily rounds through block #1. he always got a lot of business from these people. while still poor, they were better off than most. they could afford to fuck & abort as much as they pleased. milton stepped over two men pounding into each other in the sun as he made his way up the cracked-stone pathway leading to the first house on this route that day. he couldn't remember the names of the people who lived here, nor did he care to. the only thing that mattered was that they were good customers & almost always purchased one of his kits. sometimes it was the female, who he assumed was the wife or possibly the girlfriend, sometimes it was the male, the husband or boyfriend. they could have even been brother & sister for all milton didn't care. as long as they remained faithful customers, he couldn't care less. he knocked hard on the shabby front door. several minutes passed before he heard the click of a lock, the dangling of a chain. the door opened & the female was standing there naked. hardly anyone wore clothes anymore. they simply weren't neccesary with all the sex that was constantly going on. he glanced her over once. he had fucked her before. twice, in fact. he had fucked her husband once, too. at least he thought he had. her face didn't change expression. it never did. it always had that same dull, shameless, hanging look about it. she never smiled, she never frowned. the only time her expression or tone of voice changed was during sex & even then it was only slightly. she didn't wait for him to speak. "i need two, " she told him. "i want pills this time. last time it got too messy. i don't want to use the coat-hangers anymore." he sat his box down on the warm stone of the front porch & pulled out two small packets. "you know the drill," he said. "take one as often as you need, until you began to bleed. when you start to bleed, you know the infant his dead, it should move itself out within twenty-four hours & then you can take it to the Discard." the Discard was the place everyone took their dead babies & fetus guts. it wasn't unusual for a live one to get thrown into the pile. no one cared. "yeah, yeah, i know" she snatched the two packets from his hands. "listen," she continued, "you want me to suck your dick or something, because i'm broke." he smiled & she pulled him into the house. it didn't take long. she was good, but who wasn't with as much as everyone practiced. within ten minutes he was out the door & headed toward his next destinaton, which was right across the street. this house wasn't as good for business. they didn't always buy a kit, maybe one or two every month. he always went anyway, just in case. he had never recieved a sexual favor from either the man or the woman who lived in the house. both the man & the woman were hefty, & hairy: to say the least they weren't the most attractive people milton had never seen, but just as gender was of no importance neither was appearance. sex was sex & nobody cared as long as they were getting satisfied in some way by someone or some thing. with his box full of kits he walked up the sun-drenched walkway, that surprisingly was void of any intangled couples. the smell of sex thickly coated the air. the smell was everywhere. there was no pollution because no one cared enough to put forth the effort it would take to do the things that would create pollution. but the smell of sex clung to every drift of wind, every morsel of air was covered with sex. most had grown so accustomed to the sex-stench that they didn't even notice its existance any longer. it was the rare sweet smells & the pleasant aromas that they found strange. milton banged the broken silver knocker against the dirty, cracked door. he heard heavy footsteps approaching. the door opened to reveal a plump, bald man, covered in a pink robe designed with little, red hearts. he was wearing glasses & holding a magazine filled with naked girls having sex with monkey's, which was the latest trend in pornographic magazines. milton wondered briefly if he had been masturbating, but quickly pushed the thought from his mind when he noticed the cluster of sores gathered around the man's lips. herpes. almost everyone had herpes or some other std now days. it was the concequence of fucking 24/7, often with total strangers. the man smiled causing a stream of puss to leak out of one of the sores. "hello, milton! i was hoping you would stop by today, " he said. "anelle & i have, uhm, a little problem that needs to be taken care of. " he folded the magazine under his arm & threw milton a stern look over his glasses. "of course," milton said, trying not stare at the phlem-leaking wound. "are you familiar with my kits & how they work?" "yes, of course," the man said. "i don't want anything too messy. i think we want the suction cups this time around. i could use some extra money & i know of some people who are looking to buy some guts." he narrow-eyed him over the rims of his glasses. "excellent choice, mr.!" milton exclaimed! "now, how will you be paying for this?" the man looked down & shifted his feet, almost bashfully. "well, you see, i was hoping that, uhm, i could do you a, uh, favor," he said shyly, quietly. milton stared at his missing neck, his triple chin, his leaking sores. he gulped. he wasn't like most people, he knew his limits & contracting herpes was not something he wished to do. he stared blankly back at the blushing man. "i'm terribly sorry, mr. rembella, but i'm afraid that i can't accept that as a form of payment at this time." he tried to give him a friendly smile, hoping that he would understand & not make a scene. standing there in the sun's heat, both men in nervous shiftings. mr.rembella looked uncommonly embarassed. most people didn't bother to get embarassed these days. he maneuvered his massive weight from right to left & milton cold almost hear his left limb groan in dread & pain. finally he spoke, "but, you see, i have no other way to pay you." eyes down; shameful, but without reason. shame, another emotion not often felt in these times. "well, " came milton's reply, "i'm afraid that i cannot sell you any of my remedies then." he was secretly hoping that mr.rembella would understand & quietly, yet regretfully, close his door & continue masturbating all over the crisp black & white held in his hands. however, when his face began to fold & unfold, come undone at the seams, falling into little ticks & twists, lips snarled into a red-red curl, it became obvious that no such event would be taking place this afteroon. before dear milton could grasp the time to react, mr.rembella had thrown is semen-stained paper onto the sweating concrete & had grabbed him by the throat. his face blew into his, he could almost feel the irate heat raditating from within the folds of lard that made their home inside the large man's face. he spoke, breath hot, sticky & thick-foam like spraying into milton's openly exposed pores. his only defense, & it was a futile one, was to seal his eyes shut in an attept to prevent any ragged spit from spewing out of the man's mouth & into his eyes. "listen, you sonovabitch," words slurred in anger, barely managing to roll off his tongue & snuggle out between his teeth, into milton's clenched eyes, "you will give me what i want!" his grip tightened, perhaps as a warning sign that his needs would be met or the regret miltion would feel for denying him would be immense. although it was hard to muster out even a single vowel under such circumstances, milton realized that he must say something to control this beastly man or else it would be end of him. "misteeer," choke, grip, try to inhale, "i ca-" sockets seemed to be ripping somwhere in his throat. his body was sending signals to give in! give in right now or this will be the end of you for sure! what the hell, he thought in between struggles for life. "ok-ay," he plunged from his mouth. these words seemed to be taking a few seconds to puncture through the anger painted on mr.rembella's jello-like face. he made no move to release his grip, his stubby fingers protested against giving in & continued to wrap more strongly around milton's fragile neck-bone & flesh. "mr, re-" things were fading now. the red face of his attacker was changing from red to pink, olive-greens and midnight blues & dear g-d! his eyes were spinning wheels of black & white. there was no stopping him now. he was a blind fool, his anger over-shadowing all else. the humble, fading pleas barely escaping from miltion would have no effect on this lard-man now. he was a goner for sure. the colors were all a blur, a melting pot, everything molding into one swirling kaleidoscope of screaming colors & shapes. they were screaming at him to flee, to run away from this horrible man because he was squeezing the life right out of the poor bastard. his ears were becoming so stuffed-up that he could barely hear what the screaming colors & shapes were saying. no, it wouldn't be long now. not long at all, & our miltion would perish at the hands of mr.rembella, your friendly neighborhood obese-sucking perpetrator. "fuck it," milton's body said, depsite his begging for it to live on just a little longer. his eyes were tired of straining, tired of following around all those mascarading, incoherent shapes & colors, so they slid to the back of his to die next to his brain. his ears were tired of hearing the screams they couldn't understand so they self-descructed inside his head. his blood wasn't at all pleased when his heart ceased to beat so it decided to run away by way of the holes the ear-explosions made. it didn't take long. poor milton was shutting down one organ at a time. in only a matter of seconds, his neck gave in as well & what was left of his body went limp at the mercy of those two stubbly, little hands. mr. rembella held on for a few seconds longer just to make sure the last scrap of life had fled from his ruined body. when he was satisfied he released his grip & allowed the remains to fall to the ground beside the box of homemade remedies. he sighed, he smiled, he licked his chubby fingers as he let out a fat & hearty chuckle. & then he took the kit & the body into the house where he would salvage milton's remaining good parts; some to eat & some to sell to those less fortunate than himself.

 

 

Copyright © 2005 Vera Vicious
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"