The Wringer Revisited: Shred-her
Part III

by Czolgolz c.1999
[email protected]


I sat morosely on the couch of my studio apartment and regarded the works of art that surrounded me.  Mostly paintings, a few pieces of sculpture, and a lot of paper mache.  Each work was created by me, Melody.  I'm an artist; at least I fancy myself as one.  While I pay the bills by doing the makeup for theater groups, it has always been my dream to be a successful artist.

Tomorrow was going to be the day that either made or broke my career.  My first show.  The critics would either love my work and I could sell some of it for a good price, or they would hate it and I wouldn't be able to sell jack.  There was very little middle ground in this trade.

The thing was, I wasn't sure I was ready.  While my work was good (quite good, in my humble opinion), it wasn't great.  There were no masterpieces.  I looked around at the items I had chosen to display at the show tomorrow.  Most of them were my trademark pieces: paper mache glued to canvases and painted.  They were original, but, dammit, they weren't groundbreaking.  If you want to make it as an artist, you not only have to have talent, you have to have original ideas as well.

As I sat, almost relishing my funk, I heard a noise at the door.  That would me my roommate, Maria.  "Melody, would you help me with the groceries?" she called out.  I rose to give her a hand.

After we had everything put away, Maria took me in her arms and kissed me.  Yes, Maria and I were lovers.  I laid my head on her shoulder and let her hold me.  She knew how nervous I was about the upcoming show and was supportive.  I stepped back and drunk in the sight of my girlfriend.  Physically, we were exact opposites.  Maria was tall, I was short.  Her eyes were brown, mine were blue.  Her hair was black and cut very short, mine was blond and went down to my mid-back.  She was very thin and muscular, I leaned just slightly to the plump side.  And Maria's skin was dark, dark brown; mine was pale.

Maria kissed me again.  Before I knew what was happening, she had unbuttoned my paint-splattered coveralls.  Without further comment, she lead me over to our bed, discarding articles of our clothing as we went.  By the time we arrived, we were both practically nude.  Maria gave me a push and I tumbled backwards onto the bed.

"Maria," I said, "I think..."

She placed her hand over my mouth.  "Don't think...just do."

Much later, I lay next to Maria in bed, thinking.  Maria was asleep, her head contentedly resting on my ample breasts.  Maria was special, that was for sure.  I couldn't picture life without her.  As a struggling actress she could sympathize with my troubles as an artist.  She was a great listener, a wonderful friend, everyone I looked for in a life companion.  There was just one problem.

When we slept together, Maria was the dominant one.  Very dominant.  I'm not saying she was selfish, far from it.  She could do things to my body that would have me waking up the neighbors with my screams.  It was just that...well, she liked to be in charge.  Whatever happened in bed, it was something she directed.  She was the master, I was the slave.  Her body would demand and mine would obey.

Whenever I tried to assert myself in bed, I was thwarted.  Maria was much stronger than me.  She'd simply grab me and place my body how she wanted it.  I soon realized that I wasn't strong enough to resist her, both physically and mentally.  In almost all aspects of our life we were equals, but when it came to our sexual relationship, I was clearly the submissive one.

I supposed I shouldn't let it bother me.  Maria was absolutely perfect to me in every other way.  So what if she was controlling in bed, the sex was still great.

But it bothered me.  Sometimes I'd attempt something different, some small act that would place me in the dominant position, but I was always denied.  It hurt me just a little that there was no room for compromise in this area of our lives.

As if reading my mind, Maria sleepily murmured "What's wrong?"

"Oh, just worried about the art show," I lied.

"Liar," she smiled.  "You were thinking about me.  You wish I wasn't so controlling in bed."

I patted her cheek.  She could me amazing empathetic.  We had had discussions about my concerns many times.  They always ended with a promise from Maria that she'd let me run the show next time; a promise which was never kept.  I eventually stopped bringing it up.

"It's no big deal..." I started to say.

Maria sat up in bed.  "Yes it is.  You've never requested anything you didn't deserve.  It's just that, well, when I see you naked, with your great tits and that amazing rear...well, I can't help myself.  I love making you my obedient little slave."  She touched my nose.

I kissed her.  It was obvious I was never going to get my way, I might as well enjoy what I had.  Much to my surprise, Maria jumped up out of bed.

"But that doesn't make it right," she continued.  "Melody listen, I think I've found a solution to our problems."

I sat up in bed, very interested.  Maria strolled over to a large object in the corner.  It was covered with a sheet.  She had wheeled it in yesterday evening, with strict instructions for me not to touch it.  Tempting though it was, I respected her wishes.

Maria pulled off the sheet and revealed a strange looking contraption.  It was a large, black box on legs with wheels.  On the front was a set of rollers and on the side was a large crank.  I couldn't fathom what it was for.

"It's called 'The Wringer,'" explained Maria.  "I borrowed it from Jennifer.  You remember her, from the last play I was in.  Anyway, she said it really spiced up her and her husband's sex life.  I thought we might give it a go."

I was confused.  How exactly could a mutant Xerox machine spice up anyone's sex life?  I asked Maria how it worked.

"Just watch," she replied.  She then lifted a lid on the top of the machine and climbed inside.  It was a very tight fit, I don't think she could have managed had she been shorter.  She instructed me to close the lid, which I did.

"Ready?" called her voice from inside the strange box.  "OK,  listen to me.  I want you to turn the crank counter-clockwise."

Still having no idea what was going on, I complied.  I had cranked it a couple of times when I became aware of something sliding out from between the two rollers.  I took a closer look.  

Much to my surprise, they were a pair of legs.  Only they really weren't legs, they were totally flat.  They looked like life-sized cardboard cut-outs, only they were limp.  More like a towel or a bedsheet.  Enthralled, I turned the crank further.

By the time the legs had fully emerged, I recognized them as Maria's.  I let out a laugh.  I had seen this illusion on TV.  The magician places his assistant in the box, turns the crank, and a flattened, immobile version of the assistant pops out through the wringers.  Then he opens the box to reveal it empty, thereby 'proving' that he had just squashed her.

I looked down at 'Maria's' legs.  She must have gone to a photo studio and had a life-sized picture taken.  It was a good quality photo, the flesh looked almost life-like.  I wasn't sure what Maria had expected to accomplish by doing this, though.  Maybe she thought that I would be turned on by pretending to flatten her, or that by her being my 'assistant' I would feel more in control.  Maybe just a little, but it really wasn't the solution that I was hoping for.  Oh well, if nothing else we had an amusing gag to show to our friends next time we had a party.

I continued to crank.  When her hips passed through the rollers, I got a shock: she was wearing no pants in the photo.  Everything was on display.  This angered me a little.  For starters, we couldn't show this trick to anyone else, but moreover, it meant that she had had her picture taken with no pants.  This annoyed me.  The thought of anyone else looking at her naked body....grrrrrrrr

I cranked more.  Her stomach emerged.  I was very impressed with the quality of the photo; I could make out the outline of her stomach muscles and ribs.  More and more of the photo emerged, soon I could observe her naked breasts.  She certainly hadn't hidden anything from the photographer; she and I would need to have a talk later.  The photo's head emerged.  Maria's face smiled at me, almost lifelike despite its immobility.  The upraised hands came out last and the image fell to the floor.

I smiled.  It was an amusing trick, if nothing else.  Even if it didn't really help our sex life, I appreciated Maria making the effort.  I opened the box to thank her.

I couldn't believe it when I realized she was no longer in there.  Of course, just like in the magic trick.  There must be a false bottom.  But even as I thought this, I knew it couldn't be true.  There was barely enough room for Maria to fit in the main part of the box.  There just wouldn't have been a place for any sort of secret compartment or the like.
 
Well, then there must have been some sort of secret escape door.  The construction of the box seemed solid, but what other explanation could there have been?  I would have thought that I would have heard her leave the box, though.  I looked around the apartment, expecting to see Maria leaning against the wall, grinning.  Much to my shock, she was nowhere to be seen.  I began to search for her.  It didn't take long.  We had a studio apartment; that is, it was just one big room with no walls.  There were very few places should could hide.

I was beginning to get nervous.  She wasn't in the box, she wasn't in the apartment, where the hell did she go?  "Ollie, ollie, oxen!"  I called, a little fearfully.

Suddenly, I heard Maria's voice "Are you going to leave me down here all day?" she asked.  I turned around to face her, but I couldn't see her.  "Hello?" I called out uncertainly.

"Down here," she replied.  I followed the direction of her voice.  No.  I couldn't be.  It just couldn't be.

The voice had come from the photo of her on the floor.  I stepped away.  "Maria?" I asked.  I was very afraid now.

"Yes, it's me," the voice responded.  "Come over here and pick me up."

This was impossible.  She must have a microphone hidden somewhere.  She was having fun at my expense.  I walked over to the photo to see if I could figure out exactly what was going on.  

The second my hand made contact with the Maria's image, I knew it was no photo.  It was soft.  Very soft.  And yet resilient.  It felt like...like skin.  Warm and soft, like the skin I had felt pressed next to mine on countless nights.  I examined the object closely.

This was definitely no photo.  Photos are one-sided, they don't capture an image on the front and the back like this did.  Photos, no matter how expensive, always miss something.  What I was looking at was a perfect image of Maria.  Every curve, every mole, every tiny detail that made Maria what she was...perfectly represented.  Could it be...?

I picked the image up by the waist.  It bent like a bedsheet, the head falling back next to the feet.  "Maria?" I asked again.

"You guessed it."  

"But you...you're..."  I stammered.

"As a pancake..." she replied, laughing.  The lips on the image never moved as she spoke, but the voice was clearly coming from the area of the head.

"How?" I blurted out.

"Take me over to the bed and I'll tell you.  Everything's upside down in this position."

I did as she asked, still not believing what was happening.  This was insane!  My girlfriend smashed flat as a sheet of paper and laughing about it.  And yet...here it was.

I laid her down on our bed.  The unmade sheets caused weird ripples in her body.  It was odd to see her chest folded in on itself and her legs twisted in ways that normally would have indicated broken bones.

"Maria, are you OK?" I asked.

"Never better," she answered reassuringly.  "This is a damn scary experience if you don't know what to expect, but I knew what was going to happen.  Believe me, I'm just fine."

"But how is this possible?"  I laid my hand on her flat form and rubbed it along her body.  It was uniform in its smoothness, her navel and nipples felt the same as the rest of her.

"I dunno," she replied, disinterestedly.  "All I know is that it is possible, and easily reversible."

"But why, honey?  Why did you have me do this to you?"  I picked up her limp hand and held it.

"Because Melody, I can't move now.  I'm helpless...totally and utterly helpless.  You wanted to be in charge, honey.  Well now's your chance.  Anything you want to do, I have no choice to submit to."

"But you're so flat!"  I protested.  "What can we do together now?"

"C'mon Melody.  You're the artist, I'm sure you can come up with something creative."

I looked down at my two-dimensional love.  She was right, she was totally helpless, just like I always fantasized.  Well, not just like I fantasized.  In my dreams Maria would willingly perform any act I asked her to.  Her body would be mine, to obey and submit to my desires.  Now all she could do is lay there.  

Still, there would be no chance for her to jump on top of me.  No opportunity for her to overpower me and force me to have whatever kind of sex she desired.  No, for the first time since we first slept together, I was truly running things.  Wasn't there anything I wanted to do?

Experimentally, I leaned over her until my breasts were just touching her flesh.  Very gently I ran them over Maria's flattened form.  My nipples became hard and erect at the touch of Maria's still sensuous skin.  "Maria," I asked "you can still feel, can't you?"

"Oh yes," came the breathy response.  "I can feel you quite clearly."

I positioned my breasts above her squashed chest.  I swirled them over her nipples; round and round, just making the lightest contact.

"Oh, Melody," I heard her moan.

I began to kiss her frame.  It was a new experience.  Usually, when I kissed her body, I could feel her various bodily features through my lips: the hardness of bone and muscle, the tenderness of her breasts, the dip of her belly button, the hairiness of her pubic area.  Now, everything felt the same.  Just one, long, uninterrupted stretch of flesh.  The closest analogy I could make was it was like kissing her back, under her shoulder blades.  Skin.  No features, just skin.  But even that wasn't quite right.  When I had kissed her back in the past I could feel her powerful torso under her skin.  Now all I could feel was the bedsheets.  I closed my eyes and savored the taste of her.  

My arousal grew.  I straddled her non-responsive form.  Grabbing her feet with one hand and her head with the other, I stretched her taut between my legs.  It was an unusual experience, feeling her head fold and knowing that she was perfectly fine.

When I could stretch her no farther, I began to slide her back and forth between my legs, rubbing her against my clitoris.  Oh god, she was so soft, so sensual.  From her groaning I could tell that this experience turned her on as well.  Soon she was slick, both from my sweat and from my other fluids.

I had to release this sexual tension, I felt like I was going to explode.  I laid on my back and began to twist her.  I twisted her feet one way and her head the other.

"Melody, what are you..." was all she managed to say before her mouth was obstructed by another constricted part of her face.

Soon I had her wrapped around herself so tightly that she was hardly thicker than a garden hose.  I began to insert her, head first, inside of me.  She was the ultimate dildo: solid, and yet soft and flexible.  I inserted her further; soon she was in up to the tops of her breasts.  I began to pull her in and out, first slowly, then more rapidly.  I screamed as I came.  As I collapsed, exhausted, I could hear strange noises coming from inside me.  Maria was trying to say something, but was muffled by her own twisted form and by the inside of my vagina.  Savoring her helplessness, I left her inside for a while before I retracted her.

I rolled her back on the bed.  She was sticky and very wrinkled from being shoved in me so far.  For a while she couldn't do anything but pant.  Finally she spoke.

"Melody, Jesus, I wasn't expecting you to do that!  My God!"

"What did you think?" I asked as I tried to straighten her out.

"It was...it was...my God!"  

That pretty well summed it up.  Using my own lover for a dildo, her head, neck and shoulders crammed between my legs.  Yow!

I wet a washcloth and wiped down her body.  I knew she liked it when I did that.  When she was clean, I laid down next to her and held her in my arms.  She crumpled like a curtain, but it was a nice feeling.  She was so warm and non-moving, it was like sleeping with a teddy bear.  We both dozed for a while.

After a bit, I woke up.  "Maria?"

"Yes?" she replied, from her sleep.  Leave it to Maria.  Thin as a dollar bill and she could still fall asleep.

"Maria, how do you feel?" I asked.

"Safe.  Safe and happy," she responded.

I hugged her.  "Would you like me to change you back now?"

She sighed, contentedly.  "If you don't mind.  I want to hold you."

"So what do I do?"

"I dunno.  Jennifer wrote up the instructions.  They're in my purse."

I got up, and, unashamed of my nudity, began rooting through Maria's bag.  Finally I found the letter.  I began reading it.  Jennifer certainly had included a lot of detail, I guess she wanted us to feel as comfortable as possible with the machine.  I'd have to remember to thank her.  

I was about to begin the reversal procedure when something that Jennifer had written caught my eye.  I sat down and began to read some more.  Suddenly, I had an idea.  An idea that, if it worked, would assure my place as an artist forever.  Of course, it would be rather hard to get Maria to go along with it...

Ah hell, what choice did she have?  It's not like she could refuse me!  She said herself that I was in charge now.

I returned to the bed and flung Maria over my shoulder like a bag of laundry.  Then I carried her to the other side of the room, but not to The Wringer.  Instead, I took her to my paper shredder.

Since I work with paper mache so much I found myself often spending long and boring evenings ripping up paper for my work.  And when I wanted strips of uniform length or width, I'd have to literally sit there for hours with scissors and a ruler to make them come out even.  That's why I bought the shredder.

As far as shredders go, this one was tops.  Ollie North would have been proud.  I bought it from a government agency for a song.  The motor had burned out, but my brother had fixed it up good as new.  It was a giant machine.  It obviously was designed to handle more than documents.  It could, astoundingly, accept objects as long as six feet; my theory was that they used it to destroy large wall maps or several things at the same time.  The machine was powerful as well, I could easily send a sheet of poster board through it.  I was glad it had been broken when they sold it; I could never afford one of these things new, or even in good repair.

I laid Maria on the large receiving tray and smoothed her out.  I thought back to what Jennifer's note had said; that she and her husband had recently found out that when the body was in flattened form, it could easily be cut and reassembled.  I bet Maria didn't know that.  She also didn't know what an interesting experience she was about to have.

Another thing I liked about the shredder was that it was adjustable.  Dozens of tiny knives could be moved so that your paper could come out as anything from half-centimeter thin threads to one inch wide strips.  I set the machine to quarter-inch.

Maria began to realize that I was up to something.  "Melody," she called, "what are you doing?"

"Oh nothing," I said as I turned the shredder on.  

The tiny blades sprung chatteringly to life.  The knives whirled away, just inches from her left side.  All I would have to do was nudge the tray she was on; the shredder would catch her left arm and pull her in...soon her left leg and the left side of her face would follow.

Maria's voice turned to panic.  "Jesus Christ, Melody!  That's not the paper shredder, is it?  C'mon, stop fooling!"  She certainly didn't sound like my master now.

To took out a screwdriver and made one last adjustment.  I didn't want her eyes or her mouth to be sliced up so I retracted the blades that would be in danger of passing through those areas.  I wanted her to be able to see and to speak.

"Melody, whatever you are planning, stop it!  This isn't funny anymore!  Now!  Do you hear me!  Get me off this now!"  The smile on the image remained happy, but the voice was almost terrified.

I leaned over and planted a soft kiss on her lips.  "Sorry honey.  But you're my slave, now."  I inserted the tray into the shredder.

The hum of the machine altered, just slightly, as the myriad of stainless steel blades cut into her.  She passed through at a deliciously slow rate.  I smiled as I watched her being minced into over two-hundred sections.  Her body yielded to the knives like a saw through balsa wood.  I positioned myself so I could observe both her entrance and exit through the machine.  She was perfectly whole and solid upon entering, but when she exited, long parallel lines stretched from one side of her body to the other.  I knew the lines were where she had been divided.  As soon as she passed all the way through she would not be in one piece.

Too soon, it was over.  Maria's body lay like a gingerbread person on the outside tray.  A gingerbread person who had just been skewered hundreds of times by an angry chef.

I surveyed my handiwork.  If I squinted my eyes, Maria looked normal.  But when I looked at her in detail, she was anything but.  A quarter inch below the top of her head a tiny cut separated her crown from the rest of her.  Right along her eyebrows another cut dissected her.  Her eyes were intact, but her nose was cut in two different places.  Her mouth was intact as well.  Below that, her entire body had been sliced into quarter-inch sections.  She was now made up of long, brown bands composed of what once was her torso.  Smaller bands represented her arms and legs, and tiny rectangles were all that was left of her splayed fingers.

Maria's parts had maintained their correct positions for the most part; still, a couple of the strips had been knocked askew.  I knew that it wouldn't take much to truly distort her correct order.  Maria hardly resembled the person she had been when she first came home this night.  It gave me a powerful feeling to know that her distortions were far from over.

"Melody, I can't believe you just did that."  Maria's voice was desperate, frightened.  Her confidence had certainly drained away in a hurry.

"Cool your jets, honey.  Jennifer said you'd be fine.  I can put you back together again, just like Humpty Dumpty."

"Melody!  I never said you could cut me in the first place!"

"You said I was in charge and could do anything I want to.  Well I wanted to do this."

"Put me back together!"

"Put you together?  I haven't even finished taking you apart!'

Maria gasped.  I detached her tray from the machine and carried it over to a table near the wall.  In front of the table was a large painting of a meadow.  I had drawn a full-sized human outline in the foreground, but I hadn't been able to decide on a suitable subject.  Until now.

"Melody?" said Maria, with a supplication in her voice that I had never heard before.

"Yes?"

"Could you at least let me see what I look like now?"

Playfully, I picked up one of her sections.  It was the part of her that used to be her mid-stomach; the part of her that contained almost all of her navel.  I dangled it in front of her eyes for a bit.  Then I rolled it up like a tape measure and set it down next to her body.

"I meant all of me," said Maria.

I smiled and nodded.  Then I picked up the section of her that held her eyes, one of the two large sections remaining.  It was about the size and shape of a dollar bill.  I turned it over, and with a small brush I smeared some glue all over the back of it.  I then stuck it on the painted silhouette, about where the eyes would have been.

I pushed the table containing her mish-mash of parts to a location that gave her a better view.  It must have been a shocking sight, viewing her flattened and sliced body from a distance, especially since the form had no eyes and that many of her sections had been jostled out of place.

Making sure that I didn't block her view, I picked up the other big piece; the one containing her mouth.  I glued it onto the canvas, about an inch or so below the eyes.

"Melody, please, tell me what you are doing!"

"I'm going to immortalize you.  You'll be my greatest work of art yet!"

"I don't want to be a work of art!"  Maria's voice was very scared.  I decided to try to ease her fears...just a little.

"Listen Maria, I'm not going to do anything nasty to you.  You trust me, don't you?"

"Well..."

"Don't you?"

"Yes, I trust you."

"Good."

I placed my hand between her wrecked legs and moved it upwards, towards her head.  Soon I had a handful of Maria-strips.  I twisted them together, playfully.  To my surprise, Maria let out a little moan.  It could have been fear, but it sounded more like pleasure.

I separated the three strips that contained the parts of her two nipples.  Drawing on my theater experience, I began to braid the strips together, as I had done with many an actress' hair.  Soon I had a small rope made up of Maria's chest.  I contemplated doing the same with other parts of her body, but decided to get right down to work.

Making sure that I had every piece of Maria with me, I carried the tray back to the shredder and turned it on.  I selected a Maria-piece; it had been part of her shoulders at one time.  Lengthwise, I pushed it into blades.  The machine spit out a dozen flesh-colored squares, no larger than postage stamps.  I picked one up.  It was soft and spongy, I rather liked the feel of it.  I returned it to the pile and fed another band through.

Maria began to moan.  It was a long, monotonous sound; it was composed both of fear and eroticism.  I rather like sound of it, and I could imagine how Maria felt.  She was scared, that was for sure.  She certainly hadn't bargained on my taking things this far; and yet, she was turned on as well.  For the first time in our relationship she had to obey me.  It frightened her, but at the same time she was turned on, just a little.

I began tossing large handfuls of skin strips into the blades.  It didn't matter if they were folded or overlapping, the knives took care of them all the same.  Soon I was finished.  So was Maria.

I regarded the pile of predominantly brown bits and pieces that covered the tray.  Most shapes were square, but a few were rectangular or triangular.  Almost all of them were nothing but skin, though I could occasionally pick out a feature or two: the darker brown of a nipple, the curve of part of her nose, a toenail.

With the utmost care I swept all of Maria into a shoe box, making sure to double check that there were no stray pieces caught in the blades.  Placing the lid on the box, I walked back over to the painting that held Maria's eyes and mouth.  Standing so that she could see, I shook the box as hard as I could.  

I mentally took assessment of Maria's situation.  She was flattened, sliced twice (lets see, at least 200 cuts horizontally times 200 vertically...that would put her at well over ten thousand pieces, more or less), crammed in a shoe box, and now shaken up beyond recognition.  In a way I felt guilty.  She had allowed me to flatten her, only to wind up more helpless than she had probably ever thought possible.

"How does it feel, Maria?" I asked.

"It feels...weird," she answered, distantly.

"I could have guessed that.  Could you be a little more specific?"

"Well, all my skin is touching other skin.  I mean, almost ever inch of my flesh is being touched by other flesh.  But since I'm so surrounded I don't feel like I'm being touched by myself.  It's like I'm in a box lined with living female flesh."

I growled erotically.  "Well honey, in a way you are."

I opened the box and pulled out a piece at random.  I examined it.  It was featureless skin on both sides, I couldn't discern what part of her it used to be.

"Maria," I asked, "what part of you is this?"

"I dunno, I can't see it."

I gave it gentle pinch.  "Oh!" she yelped.  "That's part of my leg."

I fetched the can of glue.  I stopped for a moment, wondering if I should get dressed before starting, I was still nude.  I decided against it.

Dabbing the back (or maybe the front) or her leg piece with glue, I stuck it onto the canvas on the figure's shoulder.  Then I selected a piece that obviously had been a toe and stuck it where the stomach would be.  A bit of shoulder blade went near her left breast.

Several times Maria began to say something, but seemed to decide against it.  I guess she realized that I was not to be denied, at least not tonight.  Soon I was grabbing handfuls of pieces, slapping them at random on the canvas.

Halfway through, I realized that, due to overlapping pieces, I wasn't going to have enough to fill the silhouette.  Thinking quickly, I rushed to Maria's desk and pulled out an envelope.  It contained several glamor shots of her that she used to promote herself for potential acting rolls.  I tossed half a dozen into the shredder.  I used the photo fragments to fill up empty spots on the canvas.

I was almost finished.  I plucked off a piece of Maria's ear that had adhered to my naked breast and stuck it on the painting's hip.  After to doing a careful search for more missing parts, I concluded that she was all up there.  With some black paint I signed my name.

"Melody, are you finished?  Will you take me down now?" came Maria's tired voice.

"Just a second.  One last step."  I opened a can of varnish and began to mix it with water.  Soon it was very thin.  I began coating Maria with the liquid.  It was thin enough to be mostly transparent, but thick enough that one couldn't really tell that the flesh it covered was the real thing.  I left Maria's eyes and mouth unvarnished.

I stood back and surveyed my work.  It was a prizewinner, all right.  To the uninitiated, it was a collage in the form of a woman.  The collage was made up of what appeared to be bits of a painting of a woman, interspersed with several mutilated female photos.  The varnish would keep people from suspecting that this was anything more than a clever work of art.  I took out my Polaroid and snapped a few shots.

"Melody, are you through yet?  C'mon, enough's enough."

Hmmmm....getting a wee bit bitchy, Maria?  Sorry hon, your adventure ain't over yet.  "But Maria," I said in my most ingratiating voice, "the art show isn't until tomorrow."

"The art show?" she screamed.  "If you think I'm going to allow you to...to present me like this, you...."

I was ready for the tirade.  I had selected a remaining chunk of photo, it was a life-sized duplication of her smiling mouth.  I stuck it on the painting over her real mouth.

I had guessed correctly, all Maria could do now was mumble.  When she realized how pointless this was, she stopped.

*
I stood in the gallery watching joyously as one painting after another was taken off the wall to be shipped to its new owner.  I straightened and tried to look dignified in my too-tight evening gown.  Since I was now an artist of regard, I guessed I had better look the part.

Eventually the show ended and the gallery closed.  I looked around the darkened room.  Almost everything had been sold.  One large piece remained prominently displayed.  I stood in front of it and took in its beauty.

The gallery owner, Jaques (whose real name, he once confided, was Jim Bob), joined me.  Neither of us said anything for a while.

Eventually Jaques broke the silence.  "Exquisite," he remarked.  I couldn't help but nod.  While my other work was popular, everyone had really flocked around this piece.

It was titled, simply 'Maria.'  The medium was listed as 'Oils on paper ma.'  No one but me knew that 'paper ma.' meant paper Maria, not paper mache.  A large sign reading 'Not For Sale,' hung next to it.

"Honestly Melody, I didn't think you had it in you.  I mean, I knew you were good, but this," he motioned to the canvas, "this is amazing! I don't mind telling you that it was this piece that impressed everyone so much. The flesh is so real looking and the eyes, wow!  You'd think they were looking at you.   I especially love the way you put such angry eyes over that photo of the smiling mouth."

I did a double take.  I hadn't noticed it, but the eyes were angry.  But they had been happy when I first put her through the wringer!  Perhaps Jennifer was mistaken, maybe there were ways to move after being flattened.  I'd have to experiment later.

Jaques continued talking.  "Melody, I know you said you didn't want to sell this work for some reason..."

"And I meant it," I interrupted.

"I know, but I just had an offer.  Look."  He handed me a check.

I read the amount, it was more than twice what I had ever made on any one work.  I pretended to be more amazed than I was.  "Well!"  I said.  "This is a large figure.  It's very tempting..."  I looked pointedly at Maria, to add to her fear.  "but I'm afraid I just couldn't part with her, er, it."

That night, Maria hung safely over our fireplace.  I reclined on the couch, a glass of wine in my hand.  I smiled at Maria's angry eyes, lazily enjoying the moment.

Soon I would take her down.  It wouldn't be easy, thoroughly washing each of her pieces, then trying to fit them all back together.  It would be a little easier than a jigsaw, at least Maria could tell me where everything went.

She was not going to be happy with me, I was sure of that much.  But I would make a deal with her.

I knew how much Maria liked being the dominant one.  I had enjoyed being in control while it lasted, but to tell you the truth, it just wasn't for me.  I'm not very aggressive, I'd leave that to Maria.

I'd be her slave, as she put it, from now on.  Anything she wanted to do, I'd let her.  I shivered a bit.  After what I put her through tonight, I could only image what she'd do to me.  I knew it was inevitable that I'd be put through the wringer, maybe the shredder as well.  Well, I guess I'd be getting my just deserts.

There'd only be one condition.  Maria had inspired me.  I already had many ideas for new works, all of them Maria-based.  Not just paintings, but sculpture, mobiles, jewelry, ceramics... the list was endless.  I'd be Maria's slave, if she'd let me make her into a couple of pieces of art for every show I had.

Of course there was a chance that Maria might not agree to any of this.  From the rage in her eyes it was a very real possibility.  Well, it was her decision.  Besides, there was no law that said I had to restore her.  And she did look kind of cute there over the fireplace...


Would love to hear from you readers:  [email protected]