Appetites of Women Haters
It never would have occurred to Junky that the increasing toils of those who struggled, daily amidst his own routine, could have left him feeling so unmoved myself if he had not been called into the private meeting with the company's vice president, for a discussion of necessary changes that would lead to severe cutbacks.
Junky took every newly discovered interest that the world had to offer, a little more seriously, and with higher intensity, than most. The latest was a project that he and a friend of his, Jeremy, completed. Just as easy as aiming a camera at someone, it could shrink whatever it was aimed and shot at. While events in the world around them were plaguing the minds of many, and the climate of his own company was shaking up coworkers around him emotionally, leaving the popular topics of conversation to economics and work, Junky's personally resources were solely occupying the fascinating explorations that he and his friend would endeavor each night as they drove around town shrinking anything female, with tasty potential. After the first week of their nightly patrols, the pedestrians on the lower number streets began to notice a dwindling in the loitering hooker population, which was soon felt by the underworld's economical health. Many of those probes for income were on the dissecting table back in Jeremy's basement cut into pieces. Those parts that were not beginning to smell as they dried up on the table were soaking in formaldehyde and under microscopes for study. Jeremy nor Junky were biologists and although they were surely competent, garage scientists on their own time, they had no interest cutting up tiny women for any other reason than to add spice to their fetish, while making a little mess of ovaries in slow drying decay, Collaterial glands (a few that had not been thumb squished in a pleasure filled manner, and smeared on the table), and globs of stretched and torn cellulite dipped in various acids and stirred in different types of creams, or merely, mushed around with thumb prints. Junky and Jeremy were at an age where college days were sometime in the past, yet they could still play like junior high kids.
Upstairs, the two had just returned home to Jeremy's, and Junky began scrambling through the cookware until he found the Wok. He sighed as he dumped his catch from the business district out into the pot as it began heating over the gas flame. He held two tiny ladies back with his forefinger, choosing them at random for no particular reason. As sizzles and screams began to gather in the pot where tiny dresscoats began to smell the kitchen up with smoke, Junky effortlessly fanned the air around him before turning on the overhead stove, fan, and reaching for the lemon pepper, and chicken fried steak, gravy. Without even looking into the pot, he wearily stirred veggies, spices, gravy and about twelve women, all together as their screams subsided to states of painful torpor. Junky looked at his friend with a blaze expression. "Dude!"
Jeremy answered with the widening of his eyes.
Junky replied, "This is getting pretty weak."
"Why don't you take yours downstairs and play with them, like I'm going to?"
"That's so boring." Junky yawned as the screams completely stopped, and he stirred occasionally.
"See ya'!" Jeremy took his little box down to the basement with him.
Junky looked into his pot, turning into a sea of barf green liquid, as even some rib cages, spinal cords, and skulls were dissolving into the stew as such items would get snatched up on the spoon, to be rolled off most of the time, and picked out to be flicked, carelessly, into the sink. Junky eventually poured the mess into his bowl, took the first two bites before relentlessly wasting the rest of the pot into the sink as he pushed it over the edge. Took two more healthy gobbles of what was in the bowl, not even starting on a fourth of it's contents, and then dumping that into the sink as he remembered that the reason he was not hungry, was the hooker sandwich he had downed as a mid day snack, some time after lunch. He remembered that he wasn't going to do the raw eating thing again, because some of the women had nasty course hair that took him over an hour to completely pluck and string out of his teeth, like a bad dental floss.
"We're going to have to take another trip to the city tomorrow, Jeremy!" Junky opened the box before both their eyes, as Jeremy was chopping the bitchy redhead in half at the waist, in order to take some dissecting pokes at the sexual organs. Jeremy readied the body hammer to crush the half, still squirming but paused to see that Junky had only one tiny woman left. Very defined smile lines, with long brown hair and a creamy soft face. The lineaments of someone who smiles softly, and carries the sweetest of hearts. It almost brought Jeremy to tears to see her expression, as tiny as it was in this world, now.
"One?? I thought you had two left after your meal. You always save two for pleasure."
Junky's eyes filled with regret as he replied, "Well, yeah, she was kind of a bitch. Screaming and threatening. She shouted a metaphorical obscenity at me and I turned it into a reality."
"You squashed her? Chewed her up?"
"Not exactly." Junky pulled his pants and underwear half way down in front of Jeremy's seriously puzzled look. "DOCTOR DOCTOR I'M HAVING LABOR PAINS," and Junky followed with a fart "(THPPPP)" popping the mutilated woman with an angry facial expression on her face, into his underwear.
"False alarm," said Jeremy. "You just crapped your pants."
Junky looked at the catch of his underwear, with gloom, "I've taken healthier dumps."
Jeremy shook his head, laughing, as he began spooning and picking into the chest a petite woman with short red, curly hair (as if her appearance really mattered to him), and managed to balance her tiny Aorta on the small sharp pin that he had stuck in, before placing it under a microscope. "This makes me so horny," he said as he looked at it, before rubbing it haphazardly on the slide and poking back for what was left of the valves and a piece of vena cava. "Well, that covers the heart in this one." He grabbed up a brunette with long braided hair, "NEXT!"
Before Jeremy went to bed, he always made sure never to attempt cleaning up the mess, because part of the fun in this was leaving all the teeny parts scattered, in an unorganized manner. He had three live ones left, and Junky, one. Jeremy kept various kinds. One had the fairest skin that was dreamy soft to the touch. She could have sold for an outstandingly high price on the black market for tiny women, if their existed such a thing. Another had tough, very rugged skin, with some muscular structure to her. A mixture of genetic structure and some bad eating habits, with regular exercise, Jeremy guessed. He had actually learned a few things through all of his tiny autopsies, whether he wanted to or not. The fact that he now realized this was beginning to cool him down, which became a severe threat to the potency of his over sexed, masculinity, and quickly resorted to the assurance of being aroused, that dangling his tiny naked ladies, could bring. The third one was terrified at this whole ordeal. An innocent woman of forty plus who he had initially cast aside as he said, "Ick, you're too old!" That minor element of westernized social jingoism might have saved her life, but unfortunately, his own heretical nature would be her doom. After he tired of the soft, tissuey flesh of the younger, and sandpaper himself with the raspy blond chic off the streets, he decided to drop them aside to witness the very short haired, brunette, who began her strokes with soft gentle caresses until the crazed, "don'twannabe" biologist/dissectionist crushed her up against the hard cockmaster, still getting aroused as she literally came apart until her screams of pain became ground beef. He was a little sickened at what he had done, when it was all over, but at least the witnesses had passed out from hysteria and did not have to endure what Junky had entered the room to say. However, the girls came to consciousness just in time to hear Junky talk about deeper matters.
"She's beautiful. I've found for the first time that I try to squeeze, as I have been able to crush so easily before, and yet her expression in my big hand, stops me. She smiles too. She's so soft, warm, and precious. I've never known an emotion as this. I don't understand it. I just want to cherish her. Keep her safe. Buy her a doll house. A nice one, with real furnishings. Wake up to her smell every day, and have long conversations with her. What do you think?"
Jeremy paused and his expression was pleasing as he patted Junky on the shoulder. "What you are talking about, is, romance buddy!"
"Oh, no!" Junky, "I think it is more selfish in orientation, really. It's those baby blue eyes of hers. They are like jewlry. They gleam out at you, and you know she is more than just a doll as the ends of her very soft brownish hair tickles your forefinger so sensuously, that I blow against her hair for more, only to find that she is an angel in my breeze, and yet all this, I can say is mine, as my heart throbs in a way I've never felt before at the sound of every sigh, or gasp she makes. We have spent enough time talking, that I know I could go on like that for hours. It tears my heart to part us. To drop her in the box and close the lid. To be away from her as long as I have now, is killing me. To feel the waves of propogating lust of too hearts of passion, breaking beyond our simple opaque forms, and becoming one, beyond the limits of size and space. I know I must have her. Keep her. Care for her. I don't understand this feeling, Jeremy."
Jeremy nodded. "That sure sounds like you've fallen for her to me."
"You really think so?"
"Yes, please," Jeremy looked deeply into Junky's eyes as even the tiny ladies softened up and were very hopeful that these men who had captured them, could know compassion, "bring the girl here and let me observe you together. I can prove it to you."
"Okay," Junky said real fast as quickly jumped up and whipped his pants down, "(PFFTHPPPP)," he farted her twisted bloody self, out on to the bed, only an inch from the tiny girls who fainted again, "there she is, see for yourself!" Junky laughed hysterically.
"Oh, geeze." Jeremy plopped himself back on the bed, turned the light out, and said, "Why do I keep falling for this one, every single time." He kicked the fainted women off of his bedspread, on to the floor, "Close the door when you leave, please, I gotta get some sleep. You'll never take any thing seriously, will you?? Not even the important things."
"What is life, if you can't just play and enjoy yourself? What is all this worth if you can't have fun all the time?"
"Well, I still have two tiny girls to play with. You played badly with your toys, and now you have none left. And, there'll be no going to the city tomorrow, so you'll just have to suffer without."
"Uh," Junky smiled as he began walking out, "that's fine with me. I don't really care about going anyway. Uh--oh, I forgot to mention, something went squish under my foot just now and when I turned around to see what it was, something squished under my other foot."
"Goddamnit," Jeremy muffled into his pillow, but too unimpressed and overly tired to move or do anything, "I guess we're going to the city tomorrow."
"Jeremy, I'd like to make a stop some time on our mission. I want to see a psychologist."
"Wow," Jeremy actually turned his head, astonished, "what brought this on? You finally going to find out what's wrong with you?"
"No, I want to find out why we both torture and kill our little captives, and it doesn't make me feel sick anymore. What's worse, is all the fun is gone. We have to find out what's wrong with us."
"Fine. "Junky closed the door and turned out the hall light, before assuming the guest room of his friends house.