It had been fewer than two weeks since Gloria’s conqueror worm orgy. The geeks were calling every other day about that damned giraffe and Gloria was almost desperate enough to do it. It couldn’t be much worse than the shit she’d already done. Like they’d said, a giraffe’s dick couldn’t be that much bigger than a donkey’s and she’d taken that mule’s entire cock in her ass. Gloria was thinking more and more about the giraffe as her stash dwindled.
Then Vlad began calling again. His voice always made her feel as if she were covered in slugs. Now it reminded her of six-foot worms hung like stallions that screamed when you squashed them. Gloria could still hear their cries. They had almost sounded like words but sped up like a record playing at double speed. But that couldn’t be, because that would have meant that they were intelligent. She was pretty certain they weren’t.
“No, Vlad.”
“And what is it you think I was going to ask you?”
“Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”
“It is better for thee to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched. Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched … You’re in hell right now Gloria. Your fire is not quenched. It still burns within you, consuming your soul. I can ease that pain for you and set your worm free. I just want you to meet an old friend.”
What the fuck is he talking about? What the hell does that mean, “set my worm free”?
“Just want me to meet an old friend, huh? And fuck him?”
“Of course.”
Gloria could sense him smiling through the phone.
“What is it, a werewolf or something this time?”
“There’s no such thing as werewolves. I want you to fuck a demon, the one you helped me release from that teenaged boy whose flesh he was imprisoned in. He was quite impressed with your talents and wants more. It would be worth a lot of money.”
“No way, Vlad.”
“What are you going to do? Go back to fucking donkeys and cows? You work for me now, Gloria. Me and only me!”
Gloria hung up the phone and tried to shake the slimy trail of Vlad’s voice off her skin. The memory of the boy who’d unraveled beneath her as she rode his bloated and ruptured cock came slithering in from the dark edges of her memory. She remembered how the boy’s soul had screamed from deep within him, only to be drowned out by the roar of the demon as it ripped him apart in its haste to be free. She could still see the innocence in his eyes wink out like a candle flame as his soul expired and the evil came blazing to the fore. She’d played a part in the destruction of that boy, had taken away his innocence with her diseased twat, allowing the demon to take full control, allowing it to enter the world. And now it wanted to fuck her again. Cringing inside, Gloria stumbled up from the couch and into the bathroom to find her heroin works.
She wrapped the surgical tubing around her left bicep and heated up her last balloon of heroin in a spoon held over the stove. To hell with rationing out the little junk she had left, just to keep from getting sick. Gloria needed to get high, as high as she possibly could. She shot her veins with all the heroin she had left. Minutes later she was drifting away. She’d figure out what to do for her next hit after she came down.
If only I had enough heroin to never wake up again, she thought, as she fell into a deep haze.
Slowly the sun slid from the sky and crashed against the horizon, bleeding fiery oranges, yellows, and reds across the sky and drowning Gloria’s roach-infested apartment in shadows. She watched the pyrotechnics through a slowly dissipating drug-haze. By the time the darkness had completely taken over the sky, she was sober. That’s when the geeks called again.
“How about pigs? We’ve got a whole kennel full of pigs that you could fuck for a grand.”
“A grand?”
“That’s all it’s worth. The novelty has pretty much worn off the farm sex thing. People want to see women fucking more exotic animals. Now if you’d do the giraffe, then we could talk.”
“I’ll take the grand. When and where?”
“Back at the loft. Where else? Meet us here at midnight.”
“Why so late?”
“Because it’s already ten o’clock. It’ll take you an hour just to get here and I’m sure you want to freshen up a little for the camera.”
Ten o’clock? Had she really been out for that long?
“Yeah … uh … sure. I’ll be there at midnight, but no more surprises. If I see anything that looks like you got it from Vlad, I’m out of there—right after I kick both of your asses.”
“Don’t worry. That guy freaks us out too. I don’t think we’ll be dealing with his ass anymore. He wanted us to hand over all the copies of that worm tape to him. We told him to go fuck himself. So you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Somehow Gloria doubted that. Vlad wasn’t the type of guy to just go away. Not when he wanted something. If there was one thing being a smack-addicted porn queen had taught her, it was that there was always a reason to worry.
By the time Gloria’s fifteen-year-old BMW pulled up outside the rundown old building, she was in the first stages of heroin withdrawal. Her skin felt as if a legion of ants had crawled beneath it. Her body temperature rose and plummeted. Gloria’s teeth rattled while she simultaneously shivered and perspired. Her legs wobbled as she stepped from the car and walked into the loft/makeshift barn.
“Jesus, Gloria, you look like shit. How much weight have you lost?”
Gloria hadn’t even noticed her body wasting away. She looked at herself in the mirror as she undressed. Her cheekbones were sharp and prominent, her ribcage jutted from her skin, and her eyes had sunken deep into her skull. Even her knees and elbows looked sharp and knobby. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. All the drugs she’d been consuming had completely sapped her appetite.
“You look sick. Are you all right?”
“Do you have any toot? Any blow?”
“Sure. You want some X too?”
“Why not?” She shrugged.
Gloria snorted the blow and dry-swallowed two pink tabs of X. The geeks led her to the pigsty where three four-hundred-pound hogs wallowed in mud and excrement.
“Just get in there and do your thing. Oh, and afterwards you get to suck us off too. Just like old times.”
Gloria turned away to stare at the pigs. Somehow she found them less distasteful.
It took a while to get the pigs in the mood. Gloria sucked their mud-streaked cocks and jacked them off until they finally got the hint and began trying to mount her.
“Okay, roll camera!” Jordan shouted as the largest of the hogs clamped his hooves around Gloria’s waist and slid its long slender cock inside of her.
“Suck the other one off while that one is fucking you!”
“Look like you’re enjoying it, will you? Let it cum on your face. Now lick your lips!”
“See if you can get it to tit fuck you. Get the big one to fuck you in the ass. Turn and spread your ass-cheeks for the cameras so we can see. Stick out your tongue. Yeah, perfect. Hold that pose. Don’t wipe it off. Let it drip down your chin. Perfect!”
They filmed for nearly an hour, with Gloria taking inch after inch of hog-dick in her mouth, ass, vagina, and between her big plastic tits. The camera zoomed in on her as she rose from the hog pen to show the mud and swine semen dripping from her various orifices.
“You know, that was pretty good. I think we can sell this,” Colin said.
“Yeah, it’s okay. But it’s not going to make us rich. They show this type of shit on every other website. People come to our site looking for something special, not just another slut sucking up pig sperm.” Jordan looked at Gloria with disgust and disappointment etched on his face.
“Are we done now? Because I’m tired and I really need to score before I crawl out of my skin.” Gloria was standing naked in the middle of the room, trying to clean the mud and semen off her body with two filthy beach towe
ls.
“I need something to wash that taste out of my mouth. Those fucking things tasted terrible. I’ll never eat bacon again.”
“Get her something to drink, Colin. Then maybe we can discuss the next scene.”
“What next scene? You wanted me to fuck the pigs—I fucked the pigs! Now just give me my thousand bucks so I can get out of here.” Gloria was starting to get that claustrophobic feeling again, like enemy forces were ringing her in.
Jordan nodded. “Just relax. It’s not about the giraffe. I’ve got something else lined up and I’m willing to pay you almost as much. I’ll get us some coffee and we’ll discuss it.” He looked across the room and back at Colin. “Who’s that?”
Gloria glanced up, looked across the room to see what Jordan was talking about.
Oh no.
She hadn’t seen him in more than three months, but she’d heard his voice crawl through her phone just last night, aurally molesting her. The ring of red hair around his bald head, the ridiculously oversized gut hanging over his belt, that handlebar mustache, those cold black eyes, and those sharpened teeth were unmistakable. Her own personal Satan. Suddenly Gloria felt as if the air within the barn was beginning to cook, the oxygen being sucked out. She swooned and fell back against the pigsty.
Colin glanced up from watching the recorded footage on the tape and shook his head. “It’s that fucking Vlad guy. The one who sold us the worms.”
“What the fuck’s he doing here?”
Colin raised an eyebrow, shrugged.
“Hey, man—I told you we don’t have any more use for your services. So what the fuck are you doing on our set?” Jordan hadn’t moved at all, and Gloria suspected Jordan must have sensed something. After all, Vlad was rather formidable.
Vlad approached them, ignoring Jordan’s question and focusing directly on Gloria, shaking his head as he walked. “I’m very disappointed. Very. Gloria, my sweet. What did I tell you the last time we spoke?”
Gloria pulled the towel closer to her body, almost hugging it, as if it could shield her. It draped across her breasts, covered her torso.
“I seem to remember telling you that you work only for me. Am I mistaken? Did I not say this to you?”
“I, um.” Gloria swallowed. She didn’t know what to say to him—was his question rhetorical? Did he know exactly what he’d said to her—as she knew? Of course she remembered him saying that, had thought it strange. But should she admit it to him?
Colin approached Jordan and stood beside him, arms crossed over his chest, facing Vlad. “My partner asked if he can help you. You haven’t answered.”
Vlad smiled, revealing his razor-like fangs, and Colin backed up a step. “I was talking to Gloria. Surely you fellows have better manners than that.”
Colin nodded, lower jaw unhinging slightly.
“Good. I was beginning to worry.” Vlad turned back to Gloria. “Let’s go.”
She rose up from the floor and snatched her folded clothing from a chair.
“Hey, wait a sec,” Jordan said, shaking his head as if waking from a deep sleep. “Gloria’s working for us. I don’t know if you’re her pimp or her goddamned father and I don’t care, but you can work out the money with her later. Right now we’re making movies.”
Vlad cocked his head. “Is that so?” He walked over to one of the tripod-mounted cameras, looked through the lens, and then turned the camera toward the men and switched it on. “Let’s film then.”
Vlad slowly turned his head until he was facing the three hogs that had been released from the pen. He raised his hand and nodded, and the hogs raced across the room, sliding along animal feces and piles of straw, their hooves clicking when they made contact with the hardwood floor.
The men barely had time to scream as the hogs attacked in a mad frenzy, knocking Colin and Jordan to the floor, tearing at them with frothing jaws, biting into their faces, ripping out their throats. The men were shredded into unrecognizable pieces.
Gloria’s shock was broken and she doubled over to vomit.
When the hogs were finished, they sat obediently beside the body parts and waited, as if for Vlad to make another command.
Vlad ignored them, took Gloria’s hand, and led her into the street and away from the loft.
*
“You smell like pig shit,” Vlad snapped, pulling Gloria through darkened streets, tripping over litter strewn about on the sidewalk. “Is that what you like? To smell like pig shit?”
Gloria stopped, yanked her hand away from Vlad’s grip. “Fuck off!” She pulled her hand against her body and massaged the wrist. “You don’t own me. No matter what you think.”
“Oh, but I do. I do own you. I know everything about you, Gloria. Everything.”
They stared at one another, a bizarre showdown in a dark alley, two urban gunfighters.
It unnerved her that he wouldn’t look away, that he held his gaze far longer than she ever could, and she averted her eyes, studied the mound of dogshit smeared across a discarded sheet of newspaper. Her cheeks burned, and she glanced up again. He was still staring.
“You’re like a goddamned serpent. They don’t blink either.”
Vlad’s mouth curled into a smile.
Then she realized he’d somehow gained the upper hand, that she had leaned forward almost in supplication and was looking up at him from that position. Almost as if she were bowing before him. Or cowering, like a whipped puppy.
“What do you want from me?” she whispered, afraid of his answer.
“I want you to stop with the drugs, first of all. I want you fresh, clear-headed.” He held out his hand. “This isn’t a good neighborhood. Let’s go.”
Stop with the drugs? Who’s he kidding? Just a moment’s hesitation before she gave her hand again, let him pull her down the alley.
*
He brought her home, made sure she was inside the building before disappearing into the night. He hadn’t wanted anything after all, she guessed. Just for her not to be with anyone else.
When she was sure Vlad was gone, Gloria left her building, intending to score. There was the money from the two dead freaks, but it wouldn’t get her far. She knew she’d end up doing whatever Vlad wanted. That goddamned addiction was strong than any repugnance she might have felt.
The geeks were dead—there went her X connection. Pot did nothing for her. The only thing she could really afford was crack, but she hated messing with that shit. It wasn’t even that effective anymore.
Even at that hour, Times Square was lit up with neon signs and harsh streetlamps. Even cleaned up—Disney-fied—it still was a shitty area. She stepped inside the headshop on the corner of Forty-first and Eighth Avenue. The tiny store was adorned with magazine racks filled with porn, bootleg videos and DVDs in piles near the floor, and a glass-covered counter sporting the latest in drug paraphernalia.
“I’m looking for Manny,” she said, leaning over the counter.
“Busted,” the man working the store told her. “Earlier tonight.”
“Fuck.” Gloria rubbed her hands over her face. “Who’s around?”
“No one. They all got busted.”
“What do you mean, ‘all’? How can that be?” She knew these guys didn’t hang out together. There was no way the cops could have rounded them all up, not on the same night.
He shrugged, looked around. “Just go home, Gloria. Things are weird right now.”
She tried the liquor store next door, the deli, the bodega. They all said the same thing: the dealers were gone. Busted.
This was bad. So bad … and she had the feeling that no matter where she went, it would be more of the same. Her head pounded, vision blurred. She managed to make it to the curb before throwing up into the gutter, spewing remnants of a dinner that had consisted of cheap booze, expensive drugs, and pig semen.
God! What had she done with her life? She stared at the vile mixture draining away in the street and began to sob, hanging on to the back end of a parked taxi.
When did she become this? When had this become her life?
The vomit was burning her chin, and she wiped it away with her palm. Even the front of her jacket was coated with it.
She once had a life … Had someone who loved her, someone who knew who she was, what she did for a living but was willing to love her anyway. Ryan.
When she’d first met him at the Adult Film Awards in Vegas she’d thought he was just another sleazy producer. One of the hordes ogling the talent, trying to get sucked off beneath the table by a few of the more impressionable young actresses, in exchange for the promise of a starring role. It turned out he was just the old college friend of a porn producer who’d dragged him to the awards ceremony to show off for him.
She remembered taking an almost instant dislike to the fat, overdressed producer in the sharkskin suit and snakeskin cowboy boots, who sat wobbling around in the chair next to the handsome young man like some Irish-mafia version of Humpty-Dumpty. The producer’s breath had smelled like cigar smoke and rotting pork and he had greeted her with a familiarity that suggested they had done business before, snaking one of his chubby ham-hands around her waist and pulling her close. Planting a clammy kiss on her cheek and a pat on her ass. Gloria had been so enamored by his companion that she’d endured the awful man’s sophomoric groping and allowed herself to be dragged over to his table.
“Gloria! You look absolutely delicious, as always. I have a friend I want to introduce you to. Gloria, this is Ryan. He’s flown all the way from New York just to meet you. He’s a big fan of your movies. I tell you, Ryan, this little gal has got the best head in the business, and I’ve seen them all. No one sucks a cock like her. She won Best Oral scene two years in a row.”
The overly gregarious butt broker had practically shoved Gloria into the chair next to Ryan, who looked just as flabbergasted as she felt. Ryan had risen as she sat and then settled back into his chair like a man is supposed to do when a lady joins the table, but it had been so long since anyone had treated Gloria like a lady.
Wrath James White presents Poisoning Eros I & II Page 4