Prologue
The Cage – November 15, 2005
“It is the devil’s work, Gerhard.”
The moralist wife addresses the pragmatist husband. At odds, no longer drawn together by
love, but instead by need.
“Yes, Hilda. But the devil pays well. And heaven demands that we eat and not let
ourselves die of starvation.”
Wizened hands smooth over the nearly completed abode of formidable stainless steel. Many
bars, two centimeters in thickness, have been cut, shaped and welded to form a cage. Over
the many weeks, as the gleaming collection took shape, wife Hilda’s expressions of disdain
transformed from initial clucking of the tongue to outright verbal condemnation. Most
disconcerting has been Gerhard’s careful attention to some odd augmentations. At one end
of the waist high, mostly rectangular shape, Gerhard has fastidiously labored to add a
smaller square envelopment to the top. The size of a hat box, the prudish Hilda, having
observed the skilled craftsmanship of husband Gerhard often engaged in abetting
‘wickedness’, knows too well of its purpose. And then there is the manner in which the
design demanded the bars at the sides of the cage and below the box be specially
shaped...
Within the cage, dozen’s of eyelets adorn the bars. Whatever is to be held within the
ineluctable strips of hardened steel will be bound in place... as added precaution?.. or
added torment?
Hilda does not need to speculate.
“Such abominable use of your skills. Gerhard, you should be sculpting! Your statues are
renowned!”
“I would like to think that artwork will be held within these bars. That I am working
the shell of a great Faberge egg.”
Hilda snorts in disgust watching as hands continue to smooth over the dozens of flawless
welds. Not a seam to be seen. Not a crevice to be felt. In the past, the aging skilled
metal worker has indeed been commissioned for grand artwork. Yet, the sizable emolument
offered for an otherwise undistinguished cage could not be refused.
“My work will be seen by the wealthy, the influential. Commissions will result.”
“Money in return for abetting debauchery, Gerhard. Look at the size. It is for a human!
Look at the design of the entrance door. I have seen too many animal cages. One must
conclude that the only escape is not to be locked. It is instead to be welded shut,
Gerhard! And I hope not by you!”
Gerhard has no retort. He of course realized the odd accessory of the entrance door when
initially examining the design drawings. There are no loops within which a common padlock
can be inserted to snap close and later be opened for release. Instead, the hinged door of
bars lowers and two flat surfaces meet, one on the door, one on the body of the cage.
After closure, it will be a simple matter to spot weld the surfaces together to offer
permanency. Gerhard has too many times similarly welded opposing surfaces in assembling
the final portions of a completed work of art.
Initially, he shuddered with the thought of eternal captivity. The high carbon steel, as
expensive and rigorous as any alloy known, does not rust, and once tempered is almost
impossible to bend. It can only be cut with diamond tipped blades or acetylene torch.
Wickedly, it is intended that whatever is placed inside the cage will be forever held. Is
he making a coffin for the living? His own thoughts coincide with those of wife Hilda more
than she will know. Still, the offering of abundant cash for weeks of skilled fabrication
could not be refused.
“And that box at the top, Gerhard. It is the size of a head. How is it that the design
permits the little hatch door there to be unlocked and opened and not the entrance door?
And look at the shape of the bars below. It required hours for you to cut, bend, then
shape the concavity. It is disgusting to think of the time and effort spent so someone can
comfortably sit astride the bars.”
Gerhard calmly nods. Yes, around the vicinity of the box, the design mandated that the
otherwise straight bars be configured into the shape of a seat just where the hatbox door
can be opened. There are indentations on the top and at the sides to comfortably
accommodate thighs and calves, just as one would ride a motorcycle. Even the less prurient
mind of wife Hilda understands that the pubes of whoever sits atop will be most proximate
to the face of the head thrust into the box.
“Disgusting, yet enriching, my scolding wife. Be thankful it is not you to be placed
within. Be thankful that the remuneration for this cage will offer food and the comfort of
heat during the cold months of winter.”
“Who will it be that so endures while we eat in warm comfort, Gerhard?”
Gerhard shakes his head as his inspection ends, communicating his lack of knowledge. He
turns to ignite his acetylene torch. Satisfied with its perfection, every inch of the cage
will be heated again to further harden the bars.
“You are looking at a creation which indeed approximates the cost of a Faberge egg, my
shrewish mate. Whatever is held within will be oddly treasured. One does not pay vast sums
to hold in captivity a rodent. No, this creature will eat, breathe, be pampered and most
importantly... it will amuse. And as a result we will eat as well.”
The Dentist – December 2005
“The tenets of my profession suggest that I not remove good teeth,” the concerned
dentist responds in consultation.
“They’re useless to him and potentially harmful... to me. I will pay well.”
An envelope glides across the desk. The look of concern transforms to curiosity as an
eyebrow is raised.
“Payment comes after the rendering of services... usually.”
“And so I will pay after the services. Consider that to merely be for your expenses.”
The unsealed envelop yields. The eyebrow further rises. The dentist’s attention has been
captured.
“It’s for ten thousand dollars!”
“Consider it a down payment on your confidence, as well. You will find that your patient
has... shall we say... an eccentric way of comporting himself. A rather gothic
presentation which need not be introduced to those without understanding.”
The dentist nods staring at the cashier’s check.
“Thursday is normally my day off. No one will be here.”
“Good. I will bring him in for the procedure. Use a modicum of Novocain. I’ll want him
to remember his last trip to the dentist. And doctor, do you know anything about
collagen?”
“Off course. We use it all the time to build up the gums.”
“Have some available. I’ll want his gums reshaped after the teeth are removed.”
A diagram is pushed across the desk. The dentist examines.
“This will make it quite difficult to fit a full set of dentures.”
“Not my intent. He’ll not have dentures. I want to assure he cannot too firmly grasp
anything between his gums... like my labia or clitoris.”
The shocking explanation disturbs. But as the dentist further reviews the pencil
etching, there comes a twinge between her thighs. The diagram suggests that the gums at
the back of the mouth, at the position of the molars, be built up with collagen making it
difficult to completely close and pressure anything between the gums of the incisors at
the front of the mouth.
Her hand trembles. With the thoughts of oral service applied to intimate feminine
anatomy, she feels sudden wetness as the twinges strengthen. Indeed, nothing will too
firmly be grasped by altered gums, though a tantalizing nibble from warm, wet softness
will most lasciviously enthrall.
The oral cavity of her prospective patient is to be molded to best pleasure a woman’s
charms
So sinister! But such a vast check...
“Shall we agree to a similar sized check after the procedure?” the woman further
inveigles.
The sexually mesmerized dentist nods, refraining from dipping her free hand to her
crotch. Yes sinister, but so wickedly arousing. And enriching.
“Thursday. I will be sure to have collagen.”
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