The Main Attraction By Sara Spring

Prologue

There’s an annual event held in the small town of Ventura in which the residents of the town step out onto their front porch and look towards to the sky facing westwards to the ocean, while old war drills sound off in the distance from various poles placed around the town with speakers tied to them. The sad melancholy notes filter through the empty streets and back alley ways, bringing with them a hollow fear and dread that once filled the hearts of the local residents.  The horns blow for five minutes and when finished the silence that follows is thick, replacing the shrilled filled air with a horror of reflective peace. The annual ritual serves a reminder of the peril that we face, that every day is precious and with a single act multiple lives could be affected and changed forever. The warning seems to resonate well with the more scrupulous members of the county as there is little to no crime in the area.  Even travelers become accidental tourists when passing through the town. Upon hearing the horns, the bony fingers of fear and dread reach out and take hold of their hearts overwhelming their souls with horror. Some never travel through the town again while others pass through avoiding that particular day.

Mayor-lesque

The night before the sirens sound off there is a burlesque dancer with large breasts and long legs. She dances one song at the local theatre for all the attendees of the 11 o’clock show. She rips at her shirt, tears at her skirt and lifts her legs high in the air tugging delicately at her stockings until her pale legs are exposed. Taking her gloves she pulls each finger tip in her teeth, pulling them off entirely. She gyrates and shakes, touches herself and titillates. And in the morning when she wakes at 6 AM, she dresses herself for the mayor’s office as she is his secretary.

The mayor of the town is a fat small man with round ruddy cheeks and harsh black eyes. He’s the only person in town with a vile reaction to the sounds. Annually, he curls up under his desk with a bottle of Scotch and drinks until tears stream from his eyes making his face wet. His body shakes and pitiful howls hardly audible escape his lips. When the silence comes, he locks his office door so his secretary cannot see him. Slowly, poking his fat head out from under his desk, he gropes for the window sill. Trembling, he does not look out over the city but instead drinks of his liquor. For another five minutes he remains stuck in this pose when suddenly, he breaks free and stares at the door in a panic. Clutching at his heart, his breathing becomes labored, with one hand on his chest he throws the other to the floor to steady himself as he falls back against the sturdy wall behind him. There he sits under the window gripping his chest in pain until he falls asleep. When he awakes, he looks around the room to see the bottle of Scotch, confused he scratches his head. Lifting himself up, he replaces the bottle in his liquor cabinet and returns to work as usual until his secretary buzzes him to unlock the door.  As soon as it is unlocked, she struts into the room- her cleavage welcomingly exposed to his greedy hands. His eyes glimmer as they catch a glimpse of her exposure and he stops writing. Getting up from his chair the two set themselves firmly in an area of his office to indulge in very mild and moderate fantasies. This annual pattern is not easily broken and the mayor revels in its fulfillment.

Oh Father, Construction Father

In another part of town where the lawns are well manicured and swelling with blooming flowers, each small house looks like the next. The quiet neighborhood, after many years, looks the same as it had when it was first constructed. Over the course of fifty years no one had seen the need to change the colors of their property keeping the pattern intact, sitting in a holding of bright blue, green, pink and yellow with the last house remaining an off white and grey.

Running along the housing tract snakes a thin street containing no lights or stop signs, winding itself sinisterly through most of Ventura’s sleepy neighborhoods. It is filled with sharp curves and sudden dips surging the driver up towards the sky only to plunge deep into a dip, terrifying the driver as the road rushes up to them. By the wild fuchsia bougainvillea bush stands a tree with a thick trunk in which carved are many gashes from various accidental run offs. Across from this treacherous trunk is a turn off that leads us to a place much more peaceful, a bright green house which lovingly holds a cheerful family of three children and a set of sensible parents who own one sturdy white truck and one large maroon van. The two older girls each have their own bicycles and a small little toe headed brother. The back yard houses a garden and a tree house in which lives a white rabbit that regularly eats whatever the small children bring to it. 

The day the horns sounded off, the rabbit died and the mother realized she was pregnant again. A sinking feeling filled her as she listened to the horns and faced west towards the water. 

After years of working for greedy construction bosses, the father of this well to do family decided to start his own venture with a couple of trusted companions. As a member of the Church of Latter Day Saints, he is the second councilor to the congregation’s Bishop. With this stature he is called upon for advice by the Bishop and in return was helped in securing a financial loan for the start of his very own company. Though the amount given to him was small, he was able to rent an office in the far end of town where the oil pumps are. As business picked up the father hired a newly converted LDS member with large round supple breasts and long, thin legs who wore dresses no self respecting Mormon woman would. Blonde and eager to please she fulfilled her duties painlessly and brought coffee to him every morning.

When the father and the receptionist stood on the porch facing the waters that day, he felt himself grow hot and like a school boy again standing next to her. He found himself furiously fighting the longing urge to bury his face in her breasts and smell her body. To feel her naked warm skin next to his and lock lips with her, penetrating her mouth with his tongue. When the silence ended and they retreated back into the office he looked up a hotel to see if perhaps he could get a room, finding availability at the Pierpont Inn overlooking the water. The price was three hundred a night and perfect for romantic interludes. Calling a local flower store he requested fresh white and orange roses to be sent to the room in abundance, asking if they could put petals on the bed covers and between the sheets.  As he left the office, he glanced down at the receptionist’s exposed cleavage and felt himself grow hot again. Quickly, he left driving to the gas station down the street. As he pulled cash out his wallet to pay for gasoline his eyes rested upon a small stuffed bear, without thinking he purchased it. Leaving the station he drove to the freeway towards the 101 highway. He headed towards the ocean and reflected back on the receptionist’s breasts. Exiting off the freeway, he followed the winding drive to the inn and checked in. Placing the teddy bear on the night stand he began to touch himself. The scent of roses filled the air and as he felt himself nearing climax quickly he grabbed the bear, tore open the seam with his teeth and injected his fluid into the bear. He ended with a groan as he pictured the receptionist’s breasts one last time as he rolled over onto the bear and fell asleep for a few hours.

Best, Edward, Best

That night, Edward stumbled into the Bar sober and stumbled out drunk. He was an overweight man of thirty six years. He worked part time as an MC for events related to burlesque shows and regularly found him self soaked in an alcoholic haze. After years of living rent free he had managed to save his salary times three and was quite comfortable though to look at him you wouldn’t know it, usually dressed in wrinkled shirts and stained pants. He was a simple man with twisted delights when it came to women. His method of objectifying them was filled with a sickness of the mind. He was, in simple terms, rather demented and made no excuse for his actions. Like a spider that fed on prey, no age was a limit and no look was a deterrent, he had a category for each type of encounter he had. His life was almost joyless at one point but that was when he was sober. Edward sat on his chair in the dingy bar and reflected on the pain of sobriety he had endured and then drank more heavily only to begin his long walk home. As he crossed Seaward Avenue, he ran into a girl that seemed like a tart, she walked with him back to his apartment and there he enjoyed the holes of her body until he could not move any longer. She left the next morning as he lay passed out in bed, unable to get up and go to work.

The year before when the sirens had sounded off Edward was confronted face to face with an officer of the law standing westward towards the shoreline. With lights flashing, Edward had been handcuffed and within the next month found himself attending court ordered Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. The attendees had all sat on hard cold aluminum chairs in a circle with florescent light filling the mostly empty gymnasium. There were six members attending that night and he was the seventh. Each one reluctantly introduced them selves and their faces reflected a muted death of indifference to everything. This was the face of his future? He felt his heart beat quicken with fear. He’d rather be puking the only contents of his stomach that night instead of being here. Rather than running out, he introduced himself, “Hi. My name is Edward and I’m a proud alcoholic. I enjoy the feeling that I have failed my asshole father and I am proud of the fact that I can drink an entire bottle of whisky by myself. I also find that sex is in fact better drunk and I regularly drink until I throw up and then drink more.” He concluded with wink and a nod. Inside, he felt satisfaction that he may have just caused these attendees a falling out that would reveal itself as many years of hard working sobriety flying out the window. He was not however, happy to see that there were no visceral reactions to his speech. He frowned. Then he glared at each person in the circle. Were they props? None of them moved. It could not be real. He must be having a delusion induced by sobriety. He needed a drink to set the world right again. With these thoughts running feverishly through his mind, he realized the woman across from him was his Human Resource Director. She was a fat woman named Mary and she had what in her younger years could have been a pretty fresh face. These days it was puffy, withered and creased with lines when performing her fake smile he saw so often when she passed him the halls at work. He rarely had any connection with her but tonight he enjoyed her blank expression. She was not amused by his antics and it turned him on. Everyone left the meeting when it was over and he followed after her, watching as she unlocked the door to her nondescript tan Ford coupe. He stopped her with polite conversation and asked if she would be interested in going for coffee with him to Carrows down the street. She accepted and the conversation that evening was relatively decent. She seemed to him downtrodden and depressed for her mishmash of a love life. Edward found Mary to be the perfect prey and soon enough he had seduced her to his apartment. It didn’t take long for him to get her clothes off, exposing her fleshy body as he searched for her sweet spot. She was unattractive and he wanted what was his greedily. She found herself being scratched by his fingernails and bitten by his teeth. Blood oozed from the wounds and she became terrified at the turn of events. Edward was not finished. He grabbed a bottle of booze from the dresser and forced her to drink its contents. The alcohol burned her mouth and throat as she swallowed and choked. Edward throttled her fat neck in his hands as he tore her anus with his fat short extension. She cried as he continued to barbarically torture her body. He pinched at her fat and twisted the skin in his finger tips, digging his nails into her flesh until blood appeared. He licked at the wounds and laughed at her tears. He was not done yet. He drank more alcohol and covered her face with a dirty shirt he’d soiled with his excretion. She gasped for fresh air as he balled his fat fingers into a fist, felt between her legs and shoved as much as he could of his fist inside of her. She wiggled and screamed with pain, her small hands tried to push him off of her without success.  “This is consensual, right?” he kept yelling at her. She shook her head, no, and he yelled at her again. “This is consensual, right?” Again and again he yelled and inflicted pain on her until she finally whispered a shaky, “Yes”. Only, this wasn’t good enough for Edward and he yelled at her to say it louder and louder until she was repeatedly screaming it into the thick night air. Then he finally inserted himself into her swollen, bloodied and bruised spot and gently finished what he had started.  When he was done, she was still screaming. He let her continue on and went to the bathroom to relieve himself, coming back to find her huddled into a fat ball sobbing still trying to shout the word, “Yes.” She continued to repeat the single syllable word until the lack of strength forced her to stop. Edward slept soundly next to her in bed.

It didn’t take long for Edward to find out where she lived and once a month he decidedly entered into her house and promptly took advantage of her as he had that first night. The violence and torment he inflicted on her escalated when he started to tie her up. He lashed at her with metal pieces that he’d tied together into a make shift whip, the metal slicing her skin easily. He inserted a string of electrical vibrating silver balls into her spot and let them run until they burned her, pulling them out quickly enough to tear her skin. He loved to see the look of terror on her face when she saw him at work. He continued the torment for several months, occasionally stopping by more than two times a month. Mary never felt more terrified in her life than when she did with Edward. During the ritual, he would force her to drink and occasionally she had to take a day off of work if his actions showed in areas she could not cover up.

That started last year when the horns blew, but today when everyone faced the western sea, Mary found that she was yearning for Edward’s humiliations. She went through his file and located his cell phone number and called. When he did not pick up she left him a message that they should meet that night. When he never returned the call, she felt humiliated and wondering if he was playing a joke on her to make her wait and beg, she decided to start begging and pleaded in her many voicemails to him. Strolling by his office to find he was not there she pulled his address from the files and after work she went to his house, knocking on the door in a pent up fury of rage and frustration. No one answered. She walked around the property and peered into windows to find him. The bedroom was covered and she could not see inside. Walking back to her car she was determined to find a way into the house when she remembered a side door, finding it to be unlocked she entered the quiet house. Opening the door to the bedroom she found him asleep in bed, his arm peacefully covering his eyes. With his fat lips slightly parted, she thought he looked like child in the fading sunlight. Taking off her clothes, she joined him in bed.

When he awoke, still in an alcoholic haze, he rolled over to see Mary in bed with him. Anger rose up inside of him and glaring at her fat body, he poked her arm to wake her up. When she did not move, he punched her hard until she awoke with a look of pain as if she was going to cry. Edward stood up and putting on his pants, insisted that they take a drive. Trembling, Mary climbed into the car wearing only a skirt and shirt as Edward had insisted that she leave her underclothes off. While she started the car Edward, sat in the passenger side and within a few moments she found him to be pointing a gun at her temple with only one command for her to drive. Mary’s heart beat quickly as she turned the car onto the quiet and dark street. When she reached the street that ran along the back of Ventura, she turned the steering wheel to the right and followed along the winding road. It had no lights and few stops for intersections. “Faster!” he shouted at her as he touched himself and held the gun at her. She pressed the gas pedal more.

The mayor left his office late that night with his secretary on his arm, planning to propose to her. He had grown very fond of her and wanted to divorce his wife. Before absently crossing the road, tires screamed and together they watched indifferently as a car flew by them. Stepping off the curb when it was safe they continued happily along the path to their bright future together.

Oh, Father

The owner of the construction company awoke with a start to sound of tapping on his window, he’d fallen asleep in his car again and she wanted to know if he was okay. Nodding, he started his truck and cleared the sleep from his eyes. Knocking on his window again, he rolled it down. She explained that her car wouldn’t start and he agreed to drive her home. As soon as she closed the door, sitting next to him, she peeled off her jacket followed by her shirt and as she undid her bra she took his hand and gently placed it on her exposed breast. Staring intently at him she expected that he would rush her with passion but instead he turned bright red, clearing his throat and stuttering something unintelligible. Lifting her skirt to show that she had no under garments on she inserted her finger between her legs. He was beside himself with confusion. His loyalty to his wife and his passion before him, he’d cheated before and sworn it was his last. Climbing onto his lap, the receptionist pushed her large bosom in his face, she smelled so nice he relaxed and let his head rest. Slowly, they began to find themselves in a compromising situation in which they both found intense pleasure.  Car headlights lit his car’s cab and he did not look. The lights flashed away quickly as the car left the lot and the mother drove away in anger at the betrayal she just witnessed. She did not need to stay to see more and raced along the thin winding road back to her bright green home. By the time the tree came into sight she noticed bright headlights approaching her car from behind. They were coming very quickly and not slowing.  She braked to make the sharp turn onto her street and as she turned, the oncoming vehicle plowed into the side of hers with a loud crunch.

Edward looked around the frayed inside of the car stunned. He blinked, trying to gather what had happened. There were no sounds. He blinked again and saw what remained of Mary’s fat body. There was blood and bone where her face had been before the gun had fired. His face crumpled into a grimace. He pulled a ring out of his pocket and placed it on her bloodied finger still clinging to the steering wheel. He’d planned for her to drive them to Las Vegas where they could have eloped. Perhaps then his worry would fade about any untowardly acts he’d performed on her, as being a married couple, the acts would no longer remain a crime. How could she ever accuse him of deviance and abuse if she married him? She’d have to move in and then he could have torn her fat ugly body apart forever. He moved in despair and tried to free himself from the car only to find a sharp dull pain invading his chest. As the uncomfortable pressure grew he felt himself slowly unable to breath. The taste of blood began to fill his mouth. Sirens started to echo around him and flashes of red light filled the cabin of the car. He turned to look at the paramedic trying to free him from the car and reached for Mary’s bloodied hand feeling himself overcome with fatigue. He wanted to let his eyes close but they would not, instead his vision began to fade and the pain slipped further and further away. He could not tell if blood was flowing from his mouth or not, but it didn’t matter. Mary was with him and then he was dead.

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