The Test Tube Experiment
She entered the hallway, skittish like a squirrel. She straightened her skirt crease and gauged the surrounding. There were only a few men around.
Thames walked in; the camera guys left in haste. He gave her a nod to begin. She swallowed her invisible jitter but his imposing presence made her fumble. Acting was not her forte anyway and today so much was at stake.
Thames hissed, “Anaida! Know your lines for fuck sake! Let me show you how.”
Before she could retaliate, he was breathing down her nape. He cupped her from behind and whispered, “You’ve put on weight, I see.”
She squirmed to wriggle out when he almost threatened, “Have you learnt nothing sweetheart? Don’t you want this role to prove it to your folks, eh?”
Bam! Her head jerked backwards and hit his nose.
Thames was startled, more by her attack than the hot blood gushing out. She quickly turned to face him and hit on both sides of his neck, under the jaw.
She said in a deadpan tone, “Strike the cartoid sinus to restrict blood flow to the brain, causing unconsciousness or death.”
“Chill, he is alive,” she said gingerly as Mark entered the hallway.
“Medical school has taught you well,” Mark responded. He gagged and taped Thames to the table and stepped out to stand guard.
She looked powerful, armed with dexterity and surgical equipments. She unzipped him; his joystick lay flaccid, perfect for the thin glass tube. He was gaining consciousness.
She then proceeded to unbutton her blouse. Thames was in a tizzy with the development; his thing was getting erect.
She whispered, “How you men always wish to be bigger! Until now..” and thrust his penis into the tube before it got a stiffy. She then stood aside and watched, a tranquil enveloped her.
The glass shattered in no time.
Soon it turned flaccid, embedding glass shards of the cracked tube in foreskin. His pleading, welled up eyes made her pause. She un-gagged him to hear him beg.
“Stop, please! For fuck sake! I wil..” she muzzled his voce.
“Haven’t you heard the recent news sweetheart?”, her vicious voice stung him.
Last week, two directors W. Hienstein and R. M. Jussell were found dismembered. Jussel’s mouth was surgically stitched and Hienstein- “His awful state is something best discussed with an empty stomach”, read the headlines.
She proceeded to deftly stitch his thing into an epidermal sac.
“It wont get fully erect now. If it does, you would be more pained than pleasured.”
Then she gifted him a split- tongue. “For groping me,” she said.
Outside, Mark is waiting for her. They strike off the last name.
A month back she’d received an email.
It’s too late for me to turn back. Wish you were here!
P.S. Warv Hienstein, Rove. M. Jussell , Thames Joback
She re-read the email many times. Four years back, her sister ran away from home. She was still sore on Anaida but immediately wrote back.
Two days later she received an address.
A handsome bloke had opened the door.
An ill omen blanketed her.
He gaped with his bloodshot eyes. How he wished to hug and kiss her! But she was not his Anaida.
The sight was still vivid; Anaida was frothing, her lips were blue. He was dialling 911 when her lips had stopped quivering.
He composed himself.
“Mark, a struggling actor.”
“Laila, Anaida’s identical twin.”