Chapter 12+13 
Index 
Chapter 15
Chapter 12+13 Index Chapter 15
Subject: CODY: THE STAND-IN, Chp. 14
From: mithryl@walrus.com (Mithryl)
Date: 1997/07/25
Message-Id: <5rb6lt$h3o@alice.walrus.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,rec.arts.prose,alt.sex.stories
THE STAND-IN
By Cody Ann Michaels
c. All rights reserved
Part 2
Smalhausen's Diary
Chapter 14
August 18
I hate memory.
Memory is toxic life. Life that has gone bad. Leftovers in a
refrigerator where the power has been shut off, and the maggot eggs have
opened; it is a leaking toxic waste dump of the soul. I can't sleep.
It's getting worse and worse. I go to bed at midnight, and at 3
a.m., I am still lying there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the pressure
of my body lying on my heart. And each time I start to drift off, I
remember something. Nothing bad, mind you. Nothing of any significance.
No significance whatsoever, except that it happened. Once. Sometime.
Long ago. It can be anything. A road not taken. An object on a table.
My grandmother's kitchen. Anything. But it falls into my mind, an
einfallen, with just enough intrusiveness to put me back awake. I hate
it.
It doesn't even have to be something that happened to me. It can
be something from someone else's memory. Something mentioned. Or which
happened. The assholes on Mir, for example, running out of air, or
someone's immigration problems. The list seems to be endless. And
exceedingly trivial. There is almost nothing interesting, let alone
threatening, in any of this, these items. And yet, for some reason, they
seem to provoke fear. A sense of fear. As if I have done something
wrong. Something for which I may be held accountable.I don't know why. I
don't have any special sense of guilt. It's true, I am rather
self-conscious about my art work, my drawings, but I don't feel guilt
about them. It's the people who look at them and see nothing but tit s
and ass who I feel sorry for. But that's their problem. I always say, if
all you can see is tits, then you haven't seen the picture. The picture's
not about tits or sex. It's about this woman. Who just happens to have
big tits. Who just happens to be beautiful. Who just happens to look
like ...
August 17
She has a job in a store across the street. Basically, the woman
uses her as a go-for. Go for coffee. Go for cigarettes. Go for
sandwiches. Tits as big as her head. Streaked red hair. Sullen face.
Enormous eyes. Lips that stick out a mile. She hates be ing stared at.
And knows everyone looks at her. As if she's some kind of freak. Which
she is. She could be making a fortune as a stripper. In a club. Instead,
she's walking up and down the street in a short skirt and a tight white
tee-shirt while th e men sit in the coffee shops, looking at her.
It's an interesting balance. Each one wants her, but all the
others prevent him from having her. Like bricks locked against gravity in
Brunoleshi's Duomo. She's maybe fourteen. Fifteen. Real jail bait. The
black drug dealers talk to her. She has a friendly relation with them.
You can imagine why. What's she trading for street ecstacy? K-9. Super
Glow.
August 16
Cody models for me. We talk about the trouble she's having with
her boy friends. At night, I can hear the sounds of her body hitting the
wall between us. If it was glass, I would see her collide with reality,
squashed against it; see her face flatten and then her tits. Those big
marshmellons pancaked against adamantine. Michael, who likes to drag her
around by her tits, gave her a computer he got from one of his boy friends
before he got his main frame. As a backup. While her Sharp was in the
hosp ital. But it won't connect to the internet. What do I think is
wrong? I asked if she had a modem. She said yes. It works with her
other machine, a 286 with a busted hard drive, so why doesn't it work with
the Leading Edge? I said I'd look at it.
Their apartment is about the same as mine. Except instead of a
studio, they have a big living room. Her roommate, Kelly, came out of one
of the bedrooms as I came in. Hi. Hi. She's a redhead, like Cody. But
not as pretty. Cody is more pixie like. Kelly, on the other hand, has a
hard edge. She's more street wary. Both girls are about the same age.
We went in Cody's room. One of the machines was on the dresser. The
other was on the floor. Cody sat down and spread her legs wide to
accommodate the computer she used for the internet. This one works, she
said. Both computers were about the same. The floor one was an old
Magnavox. They had two drives each. One for five inch floppies, and one
for 3 inch disks.
But the order was reversed. In the top machine, the five inch was
the A drive, whereas the other had a 3 inch drive on top. Cody looked up
at me. To tell you the truth, I wanted to put my dick in her mouth. But
I didn't know how to do it.
I got down beside her. One of my crutches fell over. Kelly came
to the door. I have to go out, she said. Cody said okay. I wondered if
they were lovers. You look alike, I said. They don't. Much. But it was
something to say. Kelly laughed. Everyone says that. She left.
I was alone with Cody. I could hear her breathing. I looked at
her. What do you think is wrong? she asked. To tell you the truth, I
didn't know. I felt around to see if the cables were in tight. Then I
put my hand on her leg. She was wearing fishn et stockings. Her skirt
had slid up. I could see the sheer white panties under her skirt. Her
long curly hair fell down over her face and she shook her head to throw it
back.
What happens when you turn on the other machine?
Oh it works. It just won't recognize the modem. The CMOS is
fucked up, too. You have to boot through a disk. The CMOS is screwed up
on both of them.
She said she was beginning to feel innundated with computers.
With old crippled computers, was how she put it. Each computer had
something wrong with it. But each worked to some extent. So together,
they basically formed a system. Except neither had Windows.
The Sharp had Windows. But the Sharp was broken. For about the
ninth time. It seems that it basically breaks every week. She was
getting tired of shipping it back to Romeoville. It was true, they paid
for it. But it was such an aggravation, putting it in a box and taping it
up. And waiting for Fed X to come. Waiting for Fedx was like waiting for
Godot. Each time it took 4 hours out of her life. Waiting around. And
it wasn't as if the Windows even worked when she had it. There was
something ba sically wrong with that computer. Something she couldn't put
her finger on. Beyond the fact that it kept breaking. But anyway, in
some ways, it was as crippled as the desktops. Oh, sorry!
It's okay, I assured her. People don't think what it's like to be
a cripple, and have to pretend to not be hurt every time that word is
mentioned. She moved away. I could see I bothered her. I wasn't hurt.
It didn't matter if she used the word cripp le in a sentence about
laptops. Or computers. I wasn't offended. I put my hand on her leg to
reassure her. She leaned forward. And smiled.
August 14
Most of the memories are old memories. They are from times long
ago. They are the sort of things to which a psychologist would say, "And
what do you associate to that?" Nothing. And why not? Because I don't.
Is that so hard to understand? It's not like these are the tips of
recovered memories. Old traumas. Einsehen. They are blank walls. Blank
corridors. Up a box canyon. That's the word. Box. A box canyon. And
what do you associate to a box? A coffin. An unterkofferr. My great
grandfat her was an Unterkofferr. Was he an undertaker? I don't know.
He had a farm at...
More memories. Memories of Hammar. Memories that did not happen
to me. But were brought down from the mountains. Andersonville. I
wasn't at Andersonville, but one of my great uncles was. Great great. My
great grandfather's brother.
Shit. I'm awake again. Why am I thinking of Seigfried Geiger?
I'm not him. I never knew him. I am not my father's son.
Cody is screaming on the other side of the wall. She hurts so
bad. I can hear her crying. My bed is up against hers. She really got
it that time. I wonder if men hurt Kelly this bad. I hope so. She
really deserves it for what she puts that kid thr ough. Someday she'll
pay. A woman like that gets what she deserves. Kelly is a little more
self-assured than Cody. Cody is practically falling over herself, trying
to do what's right. But Kelly is cool and confident. She usually wears
conservative d esigner suits. Very short. Very tight. Cody, on the
other hand, she dresses like a slut.
Cody is the submissive. She's almost like Kelly's daughter. If
they weren't the same age, you'd think the one was older.
August 8, 1997
Cody was beaten up today. Just before our session. It made it
interesting to draw. One side of her face was swollen. Both eyes were
black and nearly shut. Mascara was smeared all the way down her face.
She was trying not to cry.
But her lips quivered. She was in a lot of pain. I made her keep
her bra on. Basically it went over her nips, and pulled her heavy
mammaries back against her chest wall. They were swollen up too, and
covered by angry red and blue marks. They looked like a fruit that had
gone rotten.
I made her stand with her arms over her head and fastened with a
rope to a ring in the ceiling. She was pulled up on tiptoe, and a rod was
placed between her legs to keep her up. It went up into her cavity a
considerable extent so that she looked very uncomfortable.
I began to paint her that way. After a bit, she started to
squirm. Hold the pose. I warned her that if she moved, she would be
severely whipped. There was no fooling around. Did she understand? Yes.
Yes, what? Yes, Frau Erica. Good.
July 29, 1997
There is no doubt that Kelly rules that roost. I was at a party,
and the two girls were there. Cody was on a leash! And Kelly was
laughing and chatting as if she was totally oblivious to the poor girl's
state.
For one thing, she was not wearing panties.
And she was wearing a saddle.
And she did have her arms tied up behind her, and bent upward.
That must have hurt. Out of the way of the rider. And her big juggs were
hanging down, just about where the rider's toe would come in the stirrups.
Cody was bent over, and they were pract ically dragging on the floor. Her
long hair was pulled back from her lovely face, and long lashes fluttered
appealingly. Kelly jammed a booted toe into the underside of the
teenager's tit.
Cody jumped. They cantered around the room. Kelly put on a
display of walking Cody back and forth. Showing how well trained she was.
Making her rear up and then come down. Bouncing her nipples on the floor.
The sharp spurs on Kelly's boots also did not help. She drove them up
into Cody's scrawny ribcage, forcing her to prance and wheel, eyes
flashing wildly and the mane of red hair whipping back and forth.
Horse and rider functioned as a whole. But Kelly was in control./
Totally. As Cody would say. No doubt about it. She was totally
beautiful.
July 15, 1997
The long ride home was spent making out on the back seat. It was
hard to drive from there. We were nearly killed many times.
My head hurt the next morning. What had happened? The Man Who
Lived Backward. You read it. Now use it.
What?
The words came to him in the night. Imprications. Directions.
Instructions on what to do next. Nurture. Praise. Life up. Do not
hurt. Above all, do no harm. Know thyself. Like a Delphic oracle deep
inside. You were there, too. Use that. He h ad seen the oracle and
stiffed one of the trades people. He remembered that. Wonder if that guy
ever got his stuff back. Too bad. I was in a hurry. No. Something
else. Shut up. I don't want to think about this. He sat up. In bed.
Too early to b e in bed. He wasn't tired. Get up. Sit in the dark..
Watch teevee. Fuck it. Nothing on. Can't draw. write.
July 14, 1997
When I got back to New York, I discovered that Cody had the
apartment right next to mine. On the same floor. The girl who lives in
the trailer next to M.'s. I asked her to model for me. She's a model.
Cody?
uh, oh, hi. How're you. Smalhausen! You're here!
Yes. And guess what? We're neighbors. We live right next to
each otherr. Just like in Florida. Do you ever wonder what they talk
about when we're not there. She giggled. She knew what his said about
her. And him.
Then he met her roommate. What a knockout. Hi. I'm George.
Kelly. The two looked at each other. Then they looked at Cody.
noooooooooooo!
July 13, 1996
I said goodbye to Mother and went to the airport. I hate airport
security. That little Jamaican faggot keeps feeling me up. I hate it. I
hope one day, someone blows up in his face.
The flight to New York was fairly uneventful. The girl in the
seat next to mine is from my mother's society. Isn't that true, dear. Of
course it is. Take her into the closet. Nice. Very nice. Closet boxing
is incredible. Especially with a babe li ke Cody. Now we pass her back
and forth across the hall. Basket bouncing is even better. Who's ball do
you think is it? Yours. Pick it up. Move along. She got out of the way
just in time. The bullet was a heat seeeker. Craig missed Craig by two m
ile. He was nearly there. To the mountain of his ancestry. And his
plane hit a glitch. It was off by half an inch. Can you believe. Little
things make big changes. Rigght, Code. y yess i guess so. Basket boxing
is what I meant to say. Big boobs coming at you. Like you're a kid
again. Say, Mooch, is that you? It shure is stinkiy. Where does a skunk
go to get first aid? honey? Here. I can fix it up. No need to go to a
hospital. Why are they tr ying to keep us out. Was it the girls ihn 4 b
that's causing the ruckus? Sweeny Todd? Then the girls got back into the
convertible and drove away. Keeep it up, slut. You'll get your's shatzi.
Coming at you. 7-11. Cheap shot. Cody suffered.
Please. I feel caught between you. Stop hitting me.,
Kelly drop kicked her for insubordination. She was a perfect slut. Later
they would have some more fun and games for the restless teenager. Keep
her down back there. Hurry up. The nurse squirmed on the stage. We all
took her. All seven of us. Had McHenry. Funny, I should remember that.
I wonder what made me. She was a slut. Tommie. A real tom boy. We had
the whole mop handle up our.... He hit a blank wall. Did you read this?
It says she's dead. Kelly is dead. Good. Now Cody can be free .
April 1, 1996
What are you doing?
I'm putting a set of handcuffs on you. Then he hung herr from her
wroistgs Now she'll dance
a pedophile
Why didn't I think of that. Pedophilia. I must have it. They're a cure,
you know? Don't you? I want to get out of this corset. It's cutting me
in half. That's the idea.
Stop struggling. I'm not going to hurt you. He held her down while she
kicked. In betweenbb the trailers.
I wonder if she remembers when I had her.
She was young then. Must have been twelve of fourteen you sort of lose
count. They just keep coming out. Like in a dream. Hello Shofer. I
edie. Gorme Misseure. I ccan't spell any more. What happened to her?
She told me she had been raped. Did you report it. No. Good. Don't say
anything. Go in there. He pushed her down a well.
Of couyurse, there's another level. One you haven't been to.
Yet. It's up to you.
Take herr uup. The keyboard was too fast. His thoughts lingered.
Cody is nothing but a blowup doll in my mind's eye. But Kelly is
real. You sort of have to go through Cody to get to Kelly. She was
between them. This is where you do the slice. He diced her. Strung out
between the two old women. On their chairs.
In front of their sitio. Each waited for high noon in the car park.
They had been exiled from the camp. Now they were sitting in front of a
K-Mart on Congress. But the fight went on.
The two ladies had levitated their entire rigs and brought them down with
meteoric force in front of that shopping center. I was impressed. The
fireball was intense. Lotta people lost their eyesight that day. Just
keep it down. They were talking abo ut the war in a Jewish deli on
Houston. Two grim faced Nazis telling how it had bbeen. In the trailer
park. When they was there. Terrific. I got to have more. Drugge piled
on. Kepp it it up Mark.
Each day Mark read Cody's column and put it out overr the internet. Could
you get me published, too, Marki It was the way you said it. Sure, Bruno,
coming right up. He met his match in that one. Bankg./ She was dripping
pearls. And oysterrs Under
the sea. Down by the Boardwalk, by the beacch. You can't go therrre
after dark. Why not? You'll see.
Making a few changes.
So waht. At least she's geting published.
Not that she has anything to say. She said it long ago. She is obviously
a perverrt. WHat els3 can we say that Cody is a man. The one subjeccct
she neverr mentions. What if Cody were a boy. How could you tell? Is he
getting any of it. Or is he taking it all?
The comely teenager nodded in agreement.
They pulled his pants down and used him as a girl.
There.\
in bed
with nothing on
and him next to me.
Cody wants to be a boy.
So that's it.
Okay.
Let her be one.
He cut off one of her tits.
She looked down.
He cut off her hair.
He cut into her buttocks with the whip.
He lashed the other tit until it was severed from her body.,
He took the tits and jammed them into her mouth.
He grabbed her long androgyonous clitoris and yanked it out from her body.
Making it stretch. Fishhooks in the labia. To make them feel like balls.
Hot sore balls swelling up, getting big, making her cunt swell with a new
kkid. Grabbing him by the ba lls. Pulling him upsidein herself Like a
balloon sucking in air. The bballoon breaks, you die. He kept herr heart
beating rapidly as though she were scared. Or scarred. Who did this to
you, child? She couldn't tell. She spread her legs to show him the
wounds.
He tugged on the hooks.
Her penis soared.
August 12, 1952
We were somewhere about the future
Pull back.
Give her air.
Attack.
It was a push pull situation. The troops wavered across a no man's land
of thatch and wwet streams. You ccould fish in that one. Up in Michigan.
On a motorcycle. Trying to get to the border. Doubling back. Where was
I? Each day I would go out ridi ng. I hit a ditch and rolled overr.
Come with me. We danced a tango of death in the middle of those rows of
barbed wire. They hooked my guts out. Entangled me. As IO went out fopr
aboput the sixth time. It's important how you estimate and when. Go
with it. It sped you around and around and you come down here. Hello.
You want to get married?
You could do it, Smalhausen.
You could do it. I'm telling you. Hi. Hi. You want to get married. n
No. She saw him in an entirely differrnt light. What are you doing here?
Asking you to marry me. b-But I'm engaged. I know. I... This is so
strange. That's what you said whe n you came out of the bathroom door
with the whip in your hand. She laughed. You really want me to marry
you? That's what I said, isn't it? There was an edge to his voice. That
almost alarmed her. I have to go, she said. Fine. He shrugged. She tu
rned. And he pulled out a gun and shot her.
May 19, 1937
hi
hi
They were so shy. They were in love. And the whole world knew it. Eva
and Hitler. They only met twice. Then sommething went wrong, and
everything fell apart. I couldn't help myself. I wasn't dinner.
Forboten. To tell. I went down on my knees bef ore Mighty Hitler. And
he betrayed me. I'm still here. In a box. At UPS./ I've been here for
weeks now. When are they going to send me? I knew about it then. He was
riught. She wasn't coming back. She had not known about the strike when
she ship ped herself to a client in Texas. Perishable Fruit. We called
it. Because of Cody's big cupcakes. How many times can you say it?
Boobs. Princesses. Oil Wells. Millionaires. She can't help it. She
saw it when it was done. Not afterwards in the movies.
Sort of takes the edge off it. Bouncing from one computer to the next.
All those machines people kept giving her to take the place of her main
frame. Now duck. We have incoming.
A horn blew in the courtyard. It lifted its sound into the
atmosphere.
Yodl came back from the store.
Did you get the eggs uberherrobenfrauergemeister, gazaks. I'm telling
you. You speak Yiddish? Oh yes. Then let's do it. It was a compact
with the Devil, but it gave us some breathing room. We've got to get
ready for the next war. It's coming. No o ne wantts to hear it. They
were on the border. Stalin went to bed early. You call that a war? I
can fart louder than that. The old boy turned in. Are you concerned, he
was asked. No. This mother lover is full of shit. That's not his
writing. I'm sure of it. Il Papa was deeply concerned. With the fate of
a nation, something dies. In you. Something left over is all that's
left. A sticky condom. They were fucking in here. That's all you are,
Smalhausen. An afterbirth prick cover. Jesus. Did you read that one?
And who wrote that? They never know. It's written into the doccument who
wrote it. They don't hang on at the end.
They let it go and the horn plays at midnight.
Someone was playing Cody Live on the other side of the wall.
I could feel it \
each time the rambunctious teenager hit the wall.
he couldn't sleep.
Why not?
Cody was making a racket.
Turn that shit down.
That never occurred to them.
That she was being slammed around a box at ninety miles an hour. I should
say not. The girl's bed was sort of a loft. There was a big monstrous
lump at the back of his bedroom. It sucked in all the energy under the
bed. And gave nothing back. It was also sort of like a stage wheree the
entire room could be under surveillance. One misstep and she could be on
the floor. The guy was really hurting herr. I put my fist through the
wallboard and grabbed her by the neck. I could hear her screams as she
was dragged in.