I've been posting my unpublishable slushy stories on this website. It's my fun page of fiction.
Here is a Chronological list of Stories with the type of transformation involved in each story.
I write a blog of story ideas that I am working on or thinking about.
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22 Febuary, 2010
The only woman I ever loved had the voice of a songbird, lips like caviar, skin like the finest silk, and a heart filled with love for me. I know that now after all these years. But in those days, I was young. I could waste love and not worry about getting it back.
I lay strapped to a steel table, prisoner of Mao Tse-Tung and the communist Chinese. "Lying CIA spy. Yankee dog." Wei-Ling's face distorted. "You stole secrets and sold them for money. You no better than your Judas, see hoow much your thirty pieces of silver will get you."
"All the while we made love in your bed, you were waiting for me to make a mistake. Is this the way you return my love by betraying me to a bunch of commie stooges? You love that fat pib Mao more than you loved me." I taunted, like a fool, I taunted. She raked her nails across my face and down my chest. The guards pointed at my half-erect manhood, dare her to mutilate it. Dogs, they'd like that. I was twice the man they were. She turned away, tried for the emotionless lie, tried to hide her tears.
"You bad lay. I fake every orgasm." I should have yelled that was untrue, that I knew better thtat I would be her love slave if only she would let me live. Life is cheap when you are young. I look back and know that at that moment, I fell in love with her again. I wanted to declare it. But she betrayed me; my pride wouldn't forgive. No I had to exact a punishment at all costs. Fools rush in. I baited a trap to destroy her and sprang it. Payback is a bitch.
"My darling, my love" I said in soft, languorous tones. "Must I tell you all my secrets? Must I declare my love for you again? I love you more than life itself. I am your slave. I am your puppet. My fate is in your hands." Her face softened. She approached and touched my cheek. I had her right where I wanted her and so I sprang the trap. "I had dog balls implanted. You're going to have puppies, bitch." The guards roared with laughter. Score one for the not-so-helpless spy. Rage filled her. Spittle flew from her lips. I had one more stab to her heart, one more knife to slip into her back. "Dried up Commie cunt! Dragon Lady! I've had better pussy in a five dollar whorehouse."
Wei-Ling stumbled backwards. A guard took money from his wallet and waved it at her. My victory was complete. I had routed my enemy. Or so I thought. I never expected blowback. I just expected death. A lesson I'll never forget. Remember -- words once said can never be unheard.
"Then die, Richard Grayford, die. I will hate you beyond life and even beyond death." I saw tears streak her face as she turned and ran. A technician plunged a syringe into my body. The black fluid spread paralyzed my body. That day, I discovered the hollowness of victory. I found true regret. I died three times; once for my country, a second time from the blackness of my heart, and the last time for leaving my love. I was a fool that day. Even the dead have memories, even the dead have remorse.
I opened my cold, dead eyes. I stood inside a glass tube barely wider than my shoulders. Its surface reflected my body -- sans hair, sans skin, sans life. They'd taken my skin. All that was left was red muscle, white tendon and grey bone. A blast of nitrogen stripped moisture from my body. A wire snaked out of my chest. It twitched in time with the beat of my heart. Or was it the reason my heart still beat.
"You open eyes. You survive inoculation with microbe? Usually exhibit men stay asleep but you, you wake. You'll live forever." The technician laughed. I didn't understand the meaning of his words. My skin felt tight, wrinkled and rubbery. It stretched over my muscles and tendons.
"First remove skin, now dissolve fat and dry you. Tomorrow, make all plump with silicone. You become great Chinese communist athlete displaying muscles and tendons. No one ever know you really Yankee spy. You bring great honor to Communist Party."
The tangy chemical smell filled my lungs, burned my body. I felt my heart pumping not blood but fat-dissolving acetone. Fire consumed each artery, each organ. Water, that gift of life, vaporized from every pore. The coldness desiccated my body. When my heart raced, the control wire shocked it back into rhythm. I watched my blood change from scarlet red, to pale pink, to deathly white, and then to clear as they drain my body. My soul shriveled as my body dried but it did not leave my body.
They pumped up my muscles, gave me a ripped, buff torso, huge arms, thick thighs and bubble butt. They sliced my skin away to show all my muscles and tendons. They covered me with clear silicone to create an everyman, to reveal my inner workings. I became undistinguished, free from race, timeless and eternal. In time, I fell into what I thought was the final sleep. The sleep to end all sleeps. The sleep from which no traveler returns. But I was wrong. I am awake to this day. I tour the world, half of my body separated from itself. Millions have looked at my pieces, viewed my viscera, and yet, they do not see me. I am not human but an anatomy lesson. They clean me and shine me but I do not feel or move. I am an object of horror or fascination or learning in their eyes.
But my love, my precious love, I still see her face when she visits. I see the tears in her eyes and I want to declare my love to the world, I want to beg her forgiveness and fall at her feet. But that will never happen. She has grown old over the years. The wrinkles on her face, the gray in her hair mark the years for me. The woman I love, her voice like a songbird, her lips like caviar, her skin the finest silk, her heart filled with sorrow for all eternity while my heart cold and lifeless lies cut open and on display for everyone and no one to see. They cannot understand a silicone heart.
1100 words more or less