Posted by NL on July 19, 2004 at 14:50:05:
Why They Killed-- Part 5
Why did I kill, you ask? Why did I kill, I say? I killed as one purging the planet of a woman who was just too damned stupid for her own good-- a woman who spoiled my day and bedeviled me and caused me to feel acute anxiety. In the process I purged myself, and had a right good time, a good sexual time I must say, in the process. It was all like a thrill ride in a theme park when things go very very wrong and the little trolley cars go careening and flying free while people who came out for a good time, to commemorate the founding of Ohio in the Famous Battle of Ohio theme park scream for real and arms and legs and bits of bashed brain go sailing into the empty air, and you yourself are on that ride of doom, in the last car, and you just know yer brains are gonna fall in flecks way down below, speckling cotton candy and funnel cakes and corn dogs, some of which are gonna get eaten anyways, gray matter or no gray matter. And then somehow the thing "grinds to a halt" and you are saved, although still dangling in the air but those firemen are on the way and you realize that it is all going to be OK after all. And you just got the best ride you've ever had-- the best ride you ever will have.
OK, from my Dad, old Ostvald Spengler I got the little appliance store and i kept it just like my Dad had it, specializing in vacuum cleaners. We had parts for every kind of vacuum cleaner, and serviced every kind of vacuum cleaner, and reconditioned and sold just about every kind of vacuum cleaner. Except, we didn't have any new stuff. No, we were like into the older models, the kind with steel and tin and very little plastic in 'em. If they did have any plastic it was likely to be bakelite or some cheesy stuff with unresolved polymers, making 'em feel greasy all the time. To save money and support my cocaine habit I fired all the help. There was a good inventory and shit fire I could do it all. If I couldn't do it all I could get my wife in to help me behind the counter.
One day a very strange fellow brought in this vacuum cleaner like gadget, looked like an early cannister model Electrolux. This guy was tall and skinny and sweated and blushed and he had his hair too long and too greasy, like unresolved polymers all over his head, and his dungarees were high-water and he had white socks and his teeth were too big for his jaws and kinda stuck out so he couldn't close his lips without stretching them, and besides that his teeth were furry looking, like he never brushed them and had plaque encrustations like coral reefs all over them. But he did have a nice shirt, a nice polyester golf shirt, in green and gold, except he wore it with the tails out and it had a real long tail in back like a flap that hung over his ass like some sort of trap door. He was barely strong enough to lift his gadget onto the counter, and as soon as I saw it, I knew it weren't no vacuum cleaner, although it was clearly set up to do some suction. But I put on my customer face and said "HOWDY! HOW-DOOO!! What can I doooo fer YOU?" I was loaded up with coke and ready to rumble. "Errrr, um, yessss, meeester, ah, Spengelier... you can feeeex? Is got very very leeeetle suction power, you know-- verrrrry leeetle how shall I say---SCHLOOOOOOP!" And then he showed me this little conical attachment on the end of the hose-- I say little but the first thing I thought when I saw it was: that's just the right size to cup over a tit! And the bells rang! It was a breast developer, one of those old suction models they used in the fifties! I've alway wanted one of those! I've always wanted to get one for the wife. I've always wanted to attack her with a breast develper, surprise her in the shower and while she screams and raises her hands to fend off a knife thrust, surprise her by ramming the snout of a four-and-a-half horsepower breast develper's suction nozzle into her left tit. I convinced the little guy to swap me his vintage boob sucker in exchange for a modern used hoover shop vac that just so happened to have a similar type nozzle. I convinced him that his old gadget was a mere piece of junk and beyond repair, and so he was happy to leave with the shop vac-- and we pretended all the time that we were talking about "vacuum cleaners" so as to minimize the poor geek's obvious embarrassment. I figure he might have used his appliance to jack himself off. Undoubtedly he did the dirty deed with no filter of any sort, no bag (and at that point I did not even know whether something like that, adapted as it must have been from a true and honest vacuum cleaner, would have any provision inside for a dust filter or bag) and the spunkum must have gummed up the motor. But I knew I could clean it up and have it working perfectly.
I closed up the shop early that day and went to work on my valuable and interesting collectable. There was a big empty space in there where a bag could have gone, and sure enough, there was an ancient bag in it, but it was absolutely fucking plasticized and sealed impermeable with dried polymerized gism. God in heaven, it stank too. I put on my double thickness electrician's gloves and pulled out the old bag with needle nosed pliers and carried it with the pliers out to the alley and dropped it in the dumpster at the very farthest end, away from my shop. I was very glad to have met no one out there while I did that. All I really had to do after that was give the motor, which looked to be about one horse, a good lube job. I cut a few filters to fit inside to keep any foreign matter like blood or nips hehe, out of the works and reassembled it. And that's where the coke got in they way, I guess, because I just had to see how this thing would work as a jerk off machine. I'd read about electric suck-u-lators that people kept in their sock drawers back in the fifties and I'd never run across one of those, but here was something of that era with that cheesy black and white erotic quality to it, although the body of this dandy little boob stretcher was covered in coats of glossy two-toned pink and black baked enamel that would have done a fifty-five chevy proud. I snorted another line, and turned the shop lights low and stripped naked and I have to admit I was a little scared but I was coked up and ready to rumble. I had a partial erection already. I had the vacsucker plugged in and I had the cone attachment on and held it up to my cock and flipped the switch. It was noisy but it sounded good and made a healthy high rpm vacuum cleaner whine and I only felt a little cooling breeze blowing around my tool as the thing sucked in air. I'd have to put the tip of my penis right up against the plastic---
As far as my wife knew that night, when I finally made it home, I had merely had an extra-ordinarily bad day at the store. The nightmares were bad and I woke up screaming several times during the night, but the next morning I was more like my normal self though still shaken and still walking bent over. I really should not have gone in to work. But coke is pricey and my wife, poor stupid thang, thought I only drank too much coffee, and in the store, back in the back, way back, was the only place I could snort a line. Also, my dealer was supposed to show that week, although I was not sure when. First thing you learn is, you always have to wait. As soon as I got in I headed for the back, got out my stash and snorted a line. Coked up, I was ready to rumble. I handled the breast developer with enormous respect, putting it on a back shelf, back, way back, out of the way. Someday I'd get even and surprise my wife with it, like I intended. HEEE HEEE! It would suck her tit to hell and gone! It'd be red and swollen as my wee-wee! HEEE HEEE!
Sometimes I forget that God hates me. I forgot that day-- too coked up, I guess. My first customer wanted some bags for a Eureka-- she said: "Honey, I gots to get some of them ol' time paper bags for one uh them there old style steel and concrete Eureka cannister type vacs they made back in 1947." At least, I'd swear to God that's what she said. I said, "Well, honey, they didn't make no steel and concrete Euraka cannister vacs in 1947, least ways, not like you are describing to me. This here is the kind of vacuum bag Eureka uses, and they are round, see? They go around the motor inside and they are, the bags are, like a uterus shaped kind of thing." I hated the way that old lady looked at me, like I was stupid and didn't know shit. Old, yeah, but damn, she had the tits! Big knockers! "No, no, no, young man, don't you talk to me like that! My old Eureka is shaped like a rocket ship and it has tail fins and it is made outta steel plate and my oh my it is soooo heavy it makes my arms ache to drag around. It has a baked on finish of pink and black enamel that would grace a old Cadillac Eldo." I said, "Lady, I learned this business from my Dad, old Ostvald Spengler, maybe you heard uh him, and I do think I know something about vacuum cleaners and I swear to God Eureka don't make, didn't make, never will make a vacuum cleaner like you are talking about-- every Eureka vacuum cleaner is patterned after the shape of those flying saucers that filled the skies after WWII. In fact, that's where they got the inspiration. What you are talking about is more like a flying sausage!" And she got hot then. She said, "Don't you dare get obscene with me! I sue your ass! I file charges! You want me to get out my razor and cut off you flying sausage, that bastard fly no MOH! NO MOH! You goddamn flying sausage go flying out to the garbage pail with the dog turds, that the only place it fly!" That was it. I guess I snapped. I was all coked up and ready to rumble and suffering from post-traumatic stress. I told that bitch to wait right there, I had just what she needed. I came charging outta the back room with that old breast develper plugged in and switched on, and I was screaming YAAAHHHHHH! and I clamped that nozzle right over her left tit, and at first it pushed her back, but then she got sucked forward and her eyes got real big and the motor whined like it was under a load and her mouth opened and her eyes rolled up in her head and she fainted. But she didn't fall until I turned off the suction. I quickly drew the shutters and hung up the "Gone Fishing" sign and stripped that gal naked-- WHAT TITS!-- she had such big boobs it was unreal! I turned the breast developer back on and plugged it over her fat left boob-- with no clothes in the way, the suction was tremendous! Working with the speed and precision of a coke head I cranked up the two biggest shop vacs and got one cupped over her other boob and with the aid of duct tape and the baggies the coke came in I got the other one sucking over her face-- her ribs just seemed to cave right in. But I couldn't fuck her. My cock was too sore and too damaged still from the previous day's experiment. So all I could do was watch. And then I remembered...