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Saw XLVII - by elroycohen (~BBW, Force Feeding, Lactation, Horror)

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elroycohen

Steampunk Psycho
Joined
Feb 23, 2007
Messages
464
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~BBW, Force Feeding, Lactation, Horror – Yet another version of a scene from the horror franchise.

[Author’s Note:] This is my little homage to the Saw franchise that is coming to a close I believe after this fall’s 3D installment. It was kind of the ultimate guilty pleasure for horror fans. After about the third movie the plot made little sense even if you had seen all the movies, but I kept coming back in hopes of a return to the quality of the second film, or at least a cool trap or two.

Part of me was hoping the studio would continue to crank out sloppily written movies just because eventually they’d get to a feeding oriented trap simply because they’d run out of everything else. Since they’re not here’s my offering, like it or not. (Just a hint: If you take things too seriously odds are you won’t care for this story – Don’t say I didn’t warn you).


SAW XLVII
by elroy cohen



Just on sight alone Marina Kilgarten stood out amongst the pasty white, stuffy retirees who had the time to spend at the country club’s outdoor patio during the middle of the day. With her skin tanned a deep bronze, her long, lean, youthful physique and model good looks, drinking alone at a table she was the polar opposite to the many wrinkled couples enjoying the fresh air at the exclusive club.

Closer inspection revealed that Marina was even more different then one would notice at first glance. With a row of empty cosmopolitan glasses, a large sunhat pulled down over her dark sunglasses that did not quite hide the tracks of mascara caused by recent tears. Marina was not like the other carefree members who were smiling and talking amongst themselves. She was brooding alone, wringing her hands when she wasn’t lifting a drink to her lips

Different though she may have been, the other members and the staff at the country club had come to get used to Marina over the last few months. Most even tried to ignore her, if they could. They knew her as the bitter, angry three time divorcee who was not even thirty years of age yet was able to blame each failed marriage on the other person. It was a sad story really. Marina did milk her first two husbands dry and then toss them aside like trash when she became enamored with someone richer or better looking, but this last husband she truly had felt something for. He had been good looking, rich and did as he was told splendidly. She thought she could settle down with him. Sure he was the son of some real estate mogul and that did not hurt (not that she needed any more money), but when Marina said “I do” for the third time on a beach in Hawaii she really felt she meant it.

Unfortunately Stephen did not. He filed divorce papers eight months later, citing irreconcilable differences. Marina knew just as everyone else did the real reason was some vapid blonde with tits the size of grapefruits.

For the woman who felt she was the epitome of beauty and class it was hard to take that someone would opt for someone other then her even if she was fully aware of just how overbearing she could be. She spent the first few months after the divorce sitting in the eight thousand square foot “bungalow” she got in the settlement and drank and devised ways to make Stephen and his new girl’s lives miserable. She harassed him with phone calls and spread rumors that his new squeeze was cheating on him while she herself had one night stands with as many hot young studs that would have her in an attempt to make Stephen jealous.

None of it worked and all she accomplished was to gather a group of greasy pool boys and bartenders who kept trying to call her for a second date.

It was just recently that she had started taking her drinking binges outside the security of her estate. And everyone at the country club wished she would have just stayed home. She was self-centered rude and belligerent when she was sober. Most avoided her company when she had been “happily” married to Stephen. Now that she was drunk and alone it was almost too much to take.

On the early afternoon she happened to be emptying the club’s bottles of alcohol alone at a table she had just finished her spa treatment inside where she had reduced a poor pedicurist to tears and was currently working on the waitress.

“Hey cow, I’ve had my glass empty for almost five minutes now. Care to come do your job and get me another drink,” she screeched across the patio. Other members turned to flash her annoyed looks, but all figured with her money and connections it would not be worth doing much more. “Yeah, just turn around, jerkoff,” she spat at an older man in a golf shirt who was having an iced tea with his wife. “What are you guys doing here anyway? Having a late lunch? Or another lunch? You keep letting that cow of yours snack at all hours of the day and you’ll have to ride separate golf carts because she won’t fit in yours.”

As the older man meekly turned back around to calm his slightly overweight wife down the poor waitress came over to Marina’s table. “Clean this stuff up, cow. I can’t believe you’re so inept at your job that I would have to tell you how to do it, even though I’ve never had to lower myself to being in the service industry.”

Cow was Marina’s name of choice for everyone that was not her. People she did not like were called it right to their face. Even friends (the few she had) were referred to by the farm animal behind their backs. It was something she felt safe in calling everyone seeing as how she was a size 0.

“Yes ma’am,” the waitress nodded. Before she could get the second glass onto her tray Marina swept her hand across the table and knocked the remaining glasses onto the stone floor where they shattered loudly.

“Too slow, cow! I hope they dock your paycheck to cover the cost of those. Now run along and get my drink and then you can clean this mess up.”

Marina burned a hole through the back of the poor waitress’ head as she scurried back to the bar balancing the two empty glasses and then swooned in her chair as her vision blurred slightly when the lady disappeared into the shadows. She was an experienced drinker but this afternoon she was pushing her limit. “If I was her I’d loose some of that meat off my thighs,” she said to no one in particular about the curvy server’s legs. “Those puppies have to be chafed bad by the end of the day.” Then Marina laughed, it was a horrible rattling gruff laugh. Pleased with herself she checked her phone. No messages from Stephen. That switched her mood back to foul and she started looking for the waitress to yell at again. “Where is that cow?” she asked, again to no one. “How long does it take to mix up a drink?” With her anger seething over now, Marina rose from the table and with a slight stagger walked to the bar.

The bar was a long tropical themed one that ran all the way to the building where an opening let people follow the bar as it switched to a more sophisticated one inside the walls of the club. Marina went through the opening when she saw the outside portion unstaffed.

“Christ, where did she go? I bet she went inside to spit in my drink. I’ll have that cow fired.”

Inside there was nothing but the sound of Marina’s jewelry clinking as she swayed past empty tables. With the weather so nice not a soul was inside. Plus it was hours before the after work rush so even the staff was light. Chairs were still up on tables from the night before.

“Hellllo,” Marina called out, leaning over the bar. No one answered. Marina did see an open walk-in cooler back behind the bar. The light was dim and her eyes were still adjusting from the sun, but Marina could see a tall martini glass garnished with a pink straw and purple umbrella sitting on a crate of lemons. “My drink,” she hissed. “That bitch set it down to make me wait. She’s probably in there making out with the bartender instead of doing her job.” Marina stumbled around along the bar a bit before finding the swinging door to the other side. “I’ll have that cow fired.” Marina stormed in to the cooler fuming mad, but quickly lost her fire when she stepped in the doorway and just beyond her drink was a large mask leaning against the cold steel wall. It was a long boar’s head with two long yellowish teeth jutting out from the lower jaw. “Oh my God,” Marina gasped, just as the door to the cooler closed leaving her in complete darkness.
 

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