Tim Frank

Totem

After they’d fucked, Eugene drank in the experience with all his senses by wallowing in the damp patch, swaddling himself in the sweaty sheets. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Shelly strapped on her bra, collected the money from the nightstand and stuffed it into her purse.

“Hey,” he said, “let me take you to dinner. I want to treat you like the queen that you are.”

“Mister, you know the rules,” she said, rising to her feet.

“Fuck the rules, we belong together. You just took my virginity; we have a special bond now. In fact, come to Bali with me. I’ll buy the tickets now. We can make love on the beach, drink cocktails from coconuts, leave this world behind.”

“You’re sweet but please, be realistic.”

“I am being realistic, you’re the love of my life. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Promise me, the first girl you shag in real life? Don’t marry her. You’re a sweet guy, don’t sell yourself short.”

And with that, she tramped out of his room, adjusting her G-string as she made her exit.

“Shelly!” Eugene called after her.

But she was already gone.

Eugene thought about her all day at work. He was twenty-seven and a successful lawyer. He had the odd fair-weather friend, but love had always eluded him. Now he’d been hit by the thunderbolt. However, he wondered if he could ever defile Shelly again – she was just too perfect. But he couldn’t resist visualising the sweat dripping over her porcelain skin – slowly down her neck and onto her pendulous breasts. No, he had to see her again and have her once more. After just one taste, he’d become addicted to her moist lips and creamy thighs. Clocking off from his job in the city, he decided to pay a visit to Shelly’s massage parlour in Soho, after first shovelling down a heavy Chinese buffet followed by several pints of cider.

As he entered the parlour there were a few men seated in the waiting room, perusing hardcore porno magazines, glazed expressions on their faces. Eugene approached the reception desk, occupied by a middle-aged woman wearing varifocal lenses. Eugene asked for Shelly.

“Sorry,” she said, “she’s busy. But…”

“I’ll wait,” Eugene interrupted.

“…we have many other beautiful young ladies for your delectation. Here are some photos.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll wait for Shelly.”

Eugene squeezed himself in between two of the other customers. One of them, with a pencil thin moustache and a cravat, leaned in conspiratorially and whispered in Eugene’s ear, “Shelly’s really something else, isn’t she?”

“What?” Eugene said, “What did you just say? Who the fuck are you?”

Shelly’s pimp overheard the conversation and, wanting to avoid any drama, appeared at his office door and motioned for Eugene to join him.

Inside his office, the pimp leaned back in his swivel chair, reached for a chewed-on cigar, and said, “I hear Shelly has made quite an impression on you.”

“I guess,” Eugene said, all cagey, wringing his hands.

“Listen, it’s fantastic you like her so much, it’s what we’re here for. However, we encourage our clients to spread the love around and not get too attached to any one of our girls. We’ve had problems in the past with some, let’s call them, insane clients, you see.”

The pimp smiled devilishly, his teeth all jutting out at random angles.

“Hmm,” Eugene said, “you’re her pimp, right?”

“You could call it that.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you, because the thing is, I want Shelly.”

“I understand, I do.”

“I mean, I want her to be all mine. Forever.”

“Oh. Well, now…”

“Hear me out. I can make it worth your while, I have plenty of money and I’m willing to splash the cash. I’ll treat her right, I promise. The truth is, I’m in love with her and I want to marry her.”

“Well, Eugene, your experience is quite common. Shelly is a lovely girl. All our girls are lovely, however. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I just can’t give you what you want. Simply no way. How about this, why don’t you try Jasmine, seeing as Shelly is otherwise occupied? Give her a test run tonight, and I promise your obsession with Shelly will be cured by sunrise.”

“I don’t need a cure. I don’t want a cure.”

The pimp sighed and said, “Let me do you a deal. Have Jasmine tonight and I’ll fix you up with Shelly tomorrow. Then we’ll see how to proceed at a later date.”

“I think I’ll pass and just see Shelly tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you at least meet Jasmine and see how it goes? You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. You don’t even have to do anything; it will be a way of passing the time until you see Shelly again. Trust me, I know about these things.”

“Well, I guess it can’t do any harm. Just this once, mind, seeing as I have nothing else to do. Because I warn you, I won’t give up on my Shelly, she’s burnt into my soul. Do you have a picture of this Jasmine?”

“Of course,” said the pimp, flicking through a laminated sex menu and then sliding it over. The page was labelled “Jasmine the Exotic Girl of your Dreams”. Despite the elaborate lighting and a loose red slip draped over her body, Eugene could tell she was pretty much anorexic.

“She’s lost a lot of weight recently,” the pimp said, “used to be over two hundred pounds. Some guys go for that, other guys go for the opposite. Either way she’s a real firecracker. You like her?”

Eugene analysed the photo, squinting.

“Yes, yes, I think I do.”

Jasmine’s room was located on the third floor of the massage parlour, and he was welcomed by the scent of strawberry lube and cinnamon incense as he entered. Jasmine was seated in an armchair in the corner of the room wearing a satin dressing gown with her crossed legs exposed. There were the soft sounds of whale song playing from the Echo Dot.

Eugene took a seat on the bed and played with his pocket pen knife.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here, my heart belongs to another.”

“Relax, I don’t want your heart. I’m just here to show you a good time.”

“It feels wrong.”

“We can talk for a bit if that makes you more comfortable?”

“I’m in love with a girl who works here, Shelly.”

“Ah, Shelly,” she said, “popular girl.”

Jasmine stood and slid her gown off, stepping out of it as she approached Eugene. The light hit her in such a way the loose skin hanging from her belly was revealed.

“Let me take your mind off her…”

She straddled him, loosened his tie and unhooked her bra. Her tits were somehow floppy and shrivelled at the same time.

After a period of fumbling around, Eugene finally said, “Stop. I’m sorry, but I can’t get it up. This wouldn’t happen with Shelly. I don’t know how I could have betrayed her.”

Jasmine rolled off Eugene and wrapped herself back up in her gown.

“What the fuck is the deal with Shelly, anyway, huh? I mean what’s she got that I haven’t?”

“Well, she’s just so beautiful and kind and gentle. She’s just the perfect girl.”

“Really.”

“Yes, and I feel we’re made for each other, you know? Soulmates.”

“Right. I get it, I get it, you’re hooked. What do I care? I didn’t lose all the weight for your approval. I’m sure you’re eager to see her as soon as possible, then.”

“Of course.”

“I think I can help you, because if you love her so much, it’s only reasonable I tell you where she is right now.”

“Would you?” Eugene said, unable to contain his excitement.

Eugene followed Jasmine’s directions to a run-down motel on the edge of town and booked himself into a room. He didn’t have a plan and decided to let instinct guide him, knowing the love between him and Shelly could not be denied.

It wasn’t long before Eugene picked up on the loud moaning sounds, which seemed to be coming from several doors down. With some sense of trepidation, he went off to investigate, following the noise as it grew in intensity.

Creeping along the balcony, he finally arrived at its source.

“Oh, Shelly!” a man’s voice called out.

Eugene peeked through the gap in the curtain. Two men were kneeling opposite each other on the bed – old men with turkey necks and balls hanging low, slapping back and forth as they both laid into the woman on all fours in between them. It was hard to make out in the dimness of the light, but one of them had something tattooed upon his wrinkled, saggy ass.

…S
…H
…E

…Shelly?

Despite all evidence that this was in fact his Shelly, Eugene had still yet to see her face. Maybe there was still hope that it wasn’t her in there. Maybe it was just some other whore who also happened to be named Shelly, presently getting shish-kebabed by a couple of geriatrics.

Several sustained groans later, the old men rose from the bed and staggered off into the shower together. It was only then that Eugene was able to verify the identity of his beloved, who was now busily wiping their loads off her face.

He bent over double and puked up his Chinese buffet right there on the spot, retching with brutish force.

“Hello?” Shelly called out. “Anyone there?”

She covered herself with a sheet as she rose to crack the door.

Eugene wiped his mouth and tried to compose himself before she could undo the chain. Slowly standing up straight, he was confronted by the sight of a horrified Shelly standing there before him.

“Shelly, we have to talk…”

Half an hour later, police sirens blared through the neighbouring streets as they advanced towards the motel. A smattering of customers loitered in the parking lot. They maintained a frosty silence and gawked at the old man sprawled upon his back, stomach gutted, innards unravelled in a bloody mess. Two policemen arrived on the scene and rushed to his side, one of them quickly reporting into his radio that he was dead. They reached for their batons and tasers and followed the entrails, leading them to the open door of the motel room.

The room was pitch black and the lead officer flicked on his torch, methodically sweeping it back and forth through the darkness. Quickly he zeroed in on a pair of bloodied feet upon the carpeted floor.

Moving the light up the man’s body, the officer gasped at the sight of his mangled crotch, before finally shining the beam upon his face. Stuffed in his mouth was his own cock and balls, blood and cum mingling in a gory pink froth as it dribbled down his chin.

The officer took a deep breath as he reached for the wall switch and flicked on the lights.

Eugene sat up from the blood-soaked mattress with a grisly smile upon his face. Beside him was Shelly, lying naked on her back. The girl had been completely decapitated.

“Hello officer…” Eugene said, holding her head on top of his like a totem pole.

“…have you met my fiancée yet?”