Rasputin in the Disco

Rasputin feels the madeira flow through his veins and the sweetness and the liquor make him feel fucking alive. The room is dark and it flickers and flashes in bright colours, there is dyed or painted paper fixed to the lanterns, the mirrors on the walls, one of them shattered, send out scraps of multi-coloured light in a thousand directions as the movement of the dancers shakes the wall its chains are attached to.

Rasputin stamps his feet and swings his head, his arms raised (one, holding a glass, tentatively) and his face shows a bliss he only ever feels when his body is engaged in these bestial, essential, human pleasures.

Like dancing, like drinking, like fucking, like prayer.

The room is full of beauty, beauties, beautiful women, beautiful young women. They aren’t beautiful because they’re young, he thinks as he stares, his body shaking and sweet wine splashing from his large right hand. They’re beautiful, he believes, because they’re women. Because woman is beautiful, because woman is life. Femininity is divine, he muses, his eyes focused on the bouncing tits of a blonde actress renowned as a hedonist. Femininity is fertility, Rasputin thinks, his head nodding to the bass and his shoulders twisting to the melody. We must love the beautiful, divine, female, he thinks, and to prove this to God we must make love to as many women as will have us.

Rasputin is taller by a foot than everyone else in the room. His beard is five times bigger than every other man’s, and the gold crucifix that swings from his neck beneath it looks like a broken pendulum as his jerky movements keep it in motion.

The dance has him gripped, his feet, his knees, his chest, his arms (he drains the last of his madeira and flings the glass towards a wall; there is a gentle twinkle of smashing glass and a booming laugh from one of the smarmy fucking aristocrats who follow him around trying to lick his bootstraps or his balls), his whole body seems to roll and shake and shudder. Sweat drips from his eyebrows, his heels tear into the wooden floor, almost splintering it beneath him, his robes float, his eyes light up and he doesn’t stop. 

The band finishes a song and in the moment of silence before the next he doesn’t stop moving, just shouts ‘Bol’she! Bol’she!’ and continues dancing to silence.

The musicians on the low stage share a look and start to play again, but Rasputin is demanding ‘Bystreye!’ over and over again. He wants the music faster, he wants more of it, he wants it constantly.

Deep breaths, pumping feet, plucking strings, fingers and arms moving with the speed and an intensity that Rasputin wants, and he floats, drunk, licking his lips and looking at the bodies of the women around him, listening to the music that fills the air, blinking into the lights that surround him from a thousand directions, the shattered mirrors, the coloured lanterns, the glow that seems to emanate from his own eyes. Rasputin dances, and Rasputin dances hard.

Making Mother Proud

Gerald couldn’t believe the beauty in front of him.  He was absolutely terrified to be in the same room with such an attractive woman.  His mother always harped that he would never be able to find a woman that would be into him, and those words haunted him his entire life.  Gerald looked up to the heavens and thought, look at me now Ma, as he gave the cutie a sly smile from crooked lips.  Sweat started to bead up on his forehead and run down his side from his underarms.  The nervousness overtook him, and he had to excuse himself.

Gerald went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror at himself.  In a low volume he chastised the reflection that stared back at him. 

“Get it together motherfucker. This is the opportunity of a lifetime you’ve always dreamed of. Don’t blow this. You are the man. Show Ma that you CAN be a man.”

After a few short, hard punches to his face, he flushed the toilet and exited the bathroom.  Once back in the room, Gerald apologized for the interruption and returned to his seat next to the dream girl.  He stared deep into her eyes, and relished in the moment.  Gerald anticipated her saying something, but quickly placed his finger over her mouth and gently shook his head.

“No, no. You don’t have to say anything. Your beauty speaks a million words even without a sound.”

Gerald thought to himself, that was good.   Not wanting the moment to fade, he thought about kissing her right then, but halted.  A plethora of scenarios ran through his head.  What if she turns away?  What if she laughs?  What if she vomits?

In spite of all of his negative concerns, Gerald decided to risk it, and went in for a kiss.  When his lips touched hers, he immediately fell in love.  This was Gerald’s first kiss, and it was everything he could have imagined.  Best of all, she didn’t withdraw, laugh, or vomit.

Her lips were soft and full, and Gerald gently licked and sucked on them.  He used his tongue to explore her mouth, gently biting her bottom lip upon withdrawal.

Gerald was getting extremely hot, and began to explore her body with his hands as he continued kissing her.  He moved his hand up the side of her body, under her gown, to her breast, and sensually massaged her with every caress.  The absence of panties and bra excited Gerald even more, and gave him the confidence he needed to take things further.  

She really wants it, Gerald thought, as animalistic urges took control of him.  His breathing quickened and heart raced, as he ripped at the material just enough to expose a breast.  Gerald maniacally sucked at her nipple, as he feverishly rubbed and gripped every portion of her body that he could grab.  He mounted, and struggled to pull down his pants and spread her legs, while still tonguing her slightly parted mouth.

Just as he was about to penetrate her, the door opened, and a hysterical, loud voice could be heard.

“What the fuck are you doing?  Jesus Christ!  Get off of her!”

It was Frank, the proprietor of Resting Days Mortuary.  

Gerald worked for Frank for about two months and had been an exemplary employee.  That is, until Frank had to leave to run an errand and left Gerald alone for the first time. 

Frank was absolutely horrified.  He pulled out his phone and called the police, while he covered up the body and pushed Gerald away.

“Yes, this is Frank Lorretto from the mortuary.  I’d like police assistance immediately.  Defiling of a dead body.  Yes, defiling a dead body!  He’s here now.  Hurry.”

Frank picked up a metal rod from the table beside him and held Gerald at bay.  Neither of them spoke much while they waited.  Frank shook his head, looked at Gerald in disgust, and surveyed the rest of the room.

A few minutes passed and a knock could be heard at the front door.  Frank motioned for Gerald to head that way as he followed.  Frank opened the door and two policemen were standing there.

“Thank God, officers.  I caught my employee having sex with a corpse.  I want him off the premises right away, and I would like to press charges.  I run an honorable business here, and the dead need to be given the respect that they deserve.  How would you feel if she was your wife or daughter?”

Neither cop knew how to respond, but tried to remain professional as possible as they looked at Gerald.

“Is this true sir?”

Gerald was embarrassed, scared, and visibly shaken.

“Yes.  I’m sorry.  I couldn’t help myself.  She was just so beautiful.”

The cops handcuffed Gerald, put him in the car, and one of them informed Frank how to go forward with the legalities.

“Thank you officer.  I appreciate your fast response.  I am in shock.  He seemed like such a  personable guy and was always great help.  I was under the impression that he wanted to learn about this profession.  Now I see that it was for all the wrong reasons.  I just don’t know how I’m going to tell the family.  Like I said, no one deserves this treatment, living or dead.  I have hours of sanitizing and repairing to do tonight because of him.  Again, thanks for your assistance officer.”

Frank shut the door behind the officer and went back into the cooler.  He looked around and attempted to notice anything else that Gerald may have contaminated.  He nervously made his way over to the body of the woman, reluctant to look at her.  Frank stood over the woman and shook his head.  A single tear ran down his cheek and fell to the floor.  He looked down on the woman, and spoke in a reverent tone.

“I’m so sorry.  I should never have left you with him.  I’m just glad I got back when I did.  Let’s get you fixed up.  What do you say?”

Frank retrieved numerous sanitizing agents and his makeup bag, then spent several hours righting the wrongs that were done by Gerald. 

When he was finished, Frank stepped back and observed his completed work.  He proudly smiled wide, then began to disrobe.

“Now where were we beautiful?”