TYWD's 2nd Second Level Asignment
The O’Connell Chronicles: The Dinner Party by H Dean
Chapter 1
Francis directed his guests into his study, introducing them to his artwork. All were properly impressed and filled with questions as to how this magnificence was achieved. (Even though it becomes clear later what the "artwork" really is, I feel that a bit more information could be given here, especially in the light of the guests' reactions.) Francis directed his guests into his study, introducing them to his artwork. There were three (?) pieces in the room, each showing young girls in different predicaments. They were perfectly still, and apparently insentient.
"Are they all real?" a voice asked.
"Of course," answered Francis. It was possible on closer examination, to see they were alive and breathing. "I've a friend who…he is the...um...director of a facility that creates these masterpieces,” he added for everyone's benefit (This is an awkward switch between answering one person's question and then broadening his reply for everyone to hear.). “I have another piece in the works, as a matter of fact."
His guests milled around first one piece and then another, touching the objects and mumbling to each other <their comrades> delete.
A tall, elderly woman <of an older generation> delete stood over what appeared to be a marble statue depicting a nymph pleasuring two satyrs. Smiling she bent down and peered at <into> delete the nymph's closed eyes and whispered something. The eyes opened, startling the woman. It might be appropriate to insert something here about the nymph's eyes showing the agonies she was enduring, or her hate and anger for Francis for doing this to her.
"So hideous," she whispered. "Francis, I'm curious, how do you...well, how does she eat or..."
Francis smiled as he moved <strode> delete towards the older woman. "As you can see, one satyr has his cock in her mouth and the other in her ass. I won't go into all the plumbing, but there is a small machine that pumps food into her stomach and another that cleans her out."
"I must have one!" the woman <she> delete exclaimed.
"Perhaps that can be arranged, Beatrice," Francis said, a broad grin of satisfaction on his face. Only he noticed the amusing ambiguity of her statement.
Just then, a tall, dark haired man pointed to the display he was standing next to and asked, "How did you manage this one?"
<"How did you manage this one?" asked a tall, dark haired man.> delete
"Ah, this one...my most recent piece," Francis said, striding over to the man. They were standing in front of a beautiful young girl who was trapped in a giant spider's web. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was cut in the style of the early 50's. The top half of her dress and her bra were torn to expose her right breast completely. The bottom half was split right up to her waist, revealing her panties. The mandibles of a giant mechanical spider could be seen above her. "I had to have this adjusted somewhat. The spider web<bing> delete originally fed into her fingers, but that proved to be a bit problematic. It feeds <They feed> delete <into> delete through the back of her hand now. I'm rather partial to the change: It allows her fingers to move freely <now> delete."
“It’s quite exquisite,” the man replied admiringly <,> delete.
“Thank you. I wanted her to appear much like a painting,” Francis said. “My initial thought was of Fay Ray in the clutches of King Kong. Then I settled on an image from an old pulp fiction fantasy novel I read as a young man. I can’t recall the name of the book but the image of a nearly naked girl trapped in a huge spider web was rather…well, it stayed with me.”
As if on command the girl's fingers wiggled, garnering a smile from her captor. Reaching out, the man stroked the girl's leg, prompting her from her state of slumber. Her steel gray eyes blinked open, taking in the rare sight of strangers.
"Please, help me," whispered the girl, suddenly hopeful for freedom.
A chuckle of sadistic satisfaction rose from the gallery of people.
"Marvelous!" Beatrice exuded <issued> delete. "Such hideous beauty. Such sadistic pleasures you must find in it <this beauty> delete."
"More than I can express," Francis related. "Many is the night does Francis really speak like this? that I have taken my seat across from her, enjoying her exquisite suffering while my dutiful Desk brought me to full satisfaction."
"Desk? Who or what is Desk?" she asked <the woman> delete.
Francis turned his gaze to the small desk at the far end of the room. It was made of dark oak and appeared well crafted and sturdy. From the center top of the desk, just beneath the desk’s top piece could be seen the lower portions of a woman. Her bottom jutted out slightly and her feet spread wide and disappeared into the desk's thick legs.
"She has relative freedom until locked into <her> delete place," Francis told his audience <the small crowd> delete. "When not in use for my sexual pleasures or cleaning, she is there. When unattended she has a pump attached to her bottom to clean out her wastes TMI."
"I assume that her upper half is useful when she is fixed into <ensconced by> delete: ensconce implies comfort[/I] the desk?" chuckled one of the guests.
"Please, feel free to look," Francis told the man.
One by one Francis's (it is incorrrect to use an apostrophe without an s in the possessive singular, even where the word ends in-s or -ss ) guests made their way <path> delete to the other side of the desk to admire its most impressive attributes.
"It appears you have modified the girl quite severely," Beatrice <the older woman> delete said.
"Ah, yes. She is, in fact, a Christ-like figure," Francis answered <retorted> delete, smiling. "Her hands and feet have rather large holes through them, titanium tubing filling the holes so they remain open and useful what for?. Her breasts have been greatly enlarged and are, in fact, still growing thanks to an implant her creator calls ‘silly string’. Her lips have been shaped and enlarged, and her teeth have been replaced with a synthetic material."
"You said she has duties other than being a desk," Beatrice said. "Which means she can be removed from it. It also means that you trust her to be free in the house. That's a bit risky, if you ask me."
"Her mind is not what it once was. In fact, she has little recollection of the girl she was before she became what she is now," Francis told her. "Her only want in life is to be a pleasure toy. She has actually stated that she envies the other pieces I have here - wishes she were one of them."
"Interesting", the woman said.
"Well, I think it's time for the party to get started," Francis exclaimed. "So, if you don't mind, I will free Desk from her bondage and have her get to serving. Please, follow me to the dining room."
Over dinner, Francis's guests spoke in generous terms <grand words> delete about his living works of art <furnishings> delete. All were in awe and most were looking for a way to <in a quest to discover how they might> delete acquire their own pieces. Amidst the excitement and revelry, no-one noticed the <one> delete man sitting <who sat> delete quietly observing their actions <of all in attendance> delete. It was only after dinner was over <had completed> delete that he was introduced.
"It seems that you are all in agreement," Francis announced. "You all want what I have. Well, I have news for you. The man responsible for these creations is here.”
Their attention was immediate, and a <as was the> delete sudden, expectant silence fell over <filling> delete the room. <Anticipatory, each guest awaited the words that were to follow.> delete
“He has been made fully aware of the status of each individual here,” Francis continued. “He knows your basic <base> delete interests and the truth about your, or our, illegal activities. However, as acareful <a> delete man <as he is> delete, he wished to observe each of you before allowing me to compromise his identity.”
Francis paused for a moment, enjoying the sudden tension. His eyes moved <He cast his eyes> delete from one guest to another, enjoying their rapt <wide-eyed> delete attention. Finally, Beatrice rose from her seat, her eyes burning into Francis.
“Damn it, man! You’re going to give us all heart attacks, you sadistic bastard!” she exclaimed, a smile playing across her lips.
Francis returned the smile, raising his arm in an open handed gesture. “Friends, I want you to meet Jerry O’Connell.”
All eyes turned towards the man at the far end of the table, who eased <and watched the man ease> delete himself from his seat. He raised his fist to his mouth and coughed before smiling at the guests.
“It’s been awhile since I have been away from my playground for a night like this,” he began. “I admit to having a very enjoyable time. Your company and admiration <adoration> delete of my works has been quite enjoyable. Were I a more easily influenced man my head would be swollen <swelled> delete beyond the ridiculous.He paused momentarily and then handed back to his host. Francis?”
“Thank you, Jerry,” Francis responded as Jerry returned to his seat. “Now, let’s retire to my study. I am sure you have many questions, hopes and fantasies you wish to discuss with my esteemed friend.”
