Welcome to chapter three of a new gritty noir series from ‘Sin Street’ created in partnership between Kate Granger and Sissitrix. Chapters published weekly on Friday’s.
Follow a woman’s desperate tale of humiliation starting in a pit of despair before her rebirth, revenge and resurgence. This story begins in a dark place because it must.
Max stayed in my room overnight, rarely letting go of my hand. Dr. Menzies stole a comfortable chair from someone’s office for him to sleep in while I dozed fitfully, glad he was there whenever I woke.
My former lover was a tower of strength as I lay in the hospital bed, fed through tubes and monitored by computers while processing the dark realities of my situation.
As I dozed in and out of a fitful, tortured slumber the frayed strands of my sanity fought to find hand and foot holds that might aid my climb out of a hellish abyss.
I desperately wanted to discharge myself from hospital that day, taking a perilous first step immediately, signaling my intent. Max said his friend, Sissitrix couldn’t transport me safely to their facility until morning. It was a lie, told from a place of love and one I felt shouldn’t be challenged lest I were perceived to bite the hand that fed me.
My body was badly damaged, but the mind controlling it was easier to repair. Cognitive function could be structured around rejuvenation and resurgence, anchoring my life to those principles while the rest of me fluttered like a kite in a hurricane.
I woke early, feeling more lucid, albeit still exhausted and reached a hand towards my friends last known location.
“Are you awake, Max?”
“Yes, my dear. I’ve been watching the cogs in your head spinning.”
“How have you been since we last met? I need to talk about normal shit because if I dwell, a hideous dark chasm will swallow me.”
I heard him stretch, then yawn before gripping my hand reassuringly. Max’s familiar aroma was conspicuous, and that comforted me.
“My sense of smell is returning.”
“What can you smell?”
“Your Dr. Squatch’s cedar citrus soap. I can’t believe you still use it.”
“Until the day I die, Erin.
I avoiding smiling because my lips felt ragged from scabs and multiple splits. My previous attempt at laughing resulted in a weeping wound was a fresh and painful memory. Max laughed, and that comforted me even more.
“You were always tough Erin.”
“You were always kind Max. Tell me about you, please.”
“I never married or had kids. In fact, since mom died, I have no remaining family. I live alone in a house too big, rejoicing miserably in its perfect isolation.”
“Are you a recluse, Max?”
“Not really, I get out and about most days for business, but I prefer absolute privacy. I could probably use an apartment in the city for weekends, perhaps take in a movie or visit a restaurant, but I have no friends.”
“You’ve done very well in business, clearly.”
“Yes. I own Multiverse but keep my name out of the news.”
“The game software company?”
“Yes.”
“You made billions of dollars but not enough to spring for an ambulance last night?”
“I didn’t want to move you, Erin. It would have been uncomfortable, and I can’t bear to see you experience more pain.”
“You always knew best, Max. Leaving last night would have been the wrong decision.”
“You need a hiatus to recover.”
Max was right, but I didn’t want to sit back on my laurels allowing more bad things to happen or to leave unpunished the ones that already had. I was fighting a war of attrition where victory was counted by every sinew that no longer hurt and each happy thought that punctuated a tortured mind.
“Tell me what else you’ve been up to, Max.”
“These days I’m trying to find better quality of life. For years, my work has consumed me to the detriment of everything else. I mountain bike, trek, sail and dive too infrequently and can’t remember when I last picked up a book to read.”
“Oh, dear. You’ve fallen into my chasm.”
“Do you believe in serendipity, Erin?”
“Do you mean like a beneficial happenstance?”
“Yes.”
“What’s on your mind Max?”
“I have a job for you. It’s not because of this incident because I was thinking about who would make the best CEO for my next growth idea. I thought of a few people, but you rose to the top of my list every time I considered it.”
“You’re offering this old whore a job?”
“Pack it in Erin, you’re neither of those things. If you indulge in self pity, I shall be fucking cross.”
Max jolted me out of a shameful, self indulgent malaise. I bit my lip, cursing the poor discipline that caused my mental lapses, then had a proverbial word, ticking myself off.
“I was joking, Max. It sounded funny in my head but the words ring hollow and feel self-pitying when I replay them. It won’t happen again.”
“You are the strongest person I know, Erin.”
I wanted to cry but held it back until my eyes hurt, nose ran and the pain in my throat from choking back overwhelmed me. When I could hold on no longer, all emotions were released and I sobbed tears of rage, clenching my fists, ruing what had become of me.
“How the fuck did I do this to myself?”
“You need to rest and take time to reinvent yourself, Erin. That’s all… don’t rush. A year from now, you’ll be lecturing five hundred people in a seminar about crisis management.”
“I was sacked you know, Max? Once Brian made it known we were wife swapping regularly, that gossip made the rounds and old man Foster got me in his office, firing my ass on the spot.”
“Can I ask Erin… why did you do that?”
“Swinging?”
“Yeah.”
“Brian had a way of sweeping people up in the moment. A warm summers’ day, crisp Pinot in an oversized glass, and caesar salad enjoyed with beautiful friends. A few bottles in, we were swapping and I was heading back to another guys’ apartment hand in hand while my husband walked the other way with his afternoon fun fuck, giggling like kids.”
“Do you have any regrets?”
“I won’t lie, some of the lifestyle was fun but look where I ended up.”
The door to my room opened and a few people walked in. I smelled Dr. Menzies from his cheap cologne.
“These nurses will bathe your eyes and get them to open at least a bit.”
“Will it hurt?”
“I won’t lie. Yes, it's really going to hurt, Erin.”
“I can take it. Go ahead.”
After what I’d been through it was like lemon drops on a fresh paper cut. I had worse pain roiling around in my bowels and reproductive organs, not to mention a throat that still felt like sandpaper.
When they were done, more light flooded into my eyes, like a shaft of hope through the slit window of a gloomy dungeon.
I gripped the nurse’s arm in a moment of ironic humor, making sure I didn’t smile.
“I can see, nurse.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. I can see the light, which must mean my eyes are working.”
“I’ve got to say, Erin. I’ve never known a patient to be this feisty after what you’ve suffered.”
“Being a victim is a choice.”
The nurses left, but my doctor remained behind. He was close by and I caught a slight glimpse of his shadow when he moved.
“Max is taking you somewhere to recover. I’ll visit Sissitrix’ clinic per their request if needed. You have tablets to treat sexually transmitted diseases and other infections you picked up or may yet contract. Promise me you’ll take the medication religiously when your friend asks?”
“I won’t squander this second chance, Dr. Menzies.”
“Your injuries aren’t permanent Erin. Your beauty will return soon and all of the scars will be healed.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
There wasn’t much else to say and I wanted to avoid seeming flippant or ungrateful, so I kept quiet. In twenty-four hours, my life became wrecked until a rescue team dragged me back into the light. My appreciation for the doctor’s time would be repaid as part of my resurgence.
I was still in considerable pain and knew they’d given me drugs to take the edge off my alcoholic tremors. No doubt, I’d get worse before my salvation, but bizarrely, I felt jubilant that a corner was turned in my mind.
Once all feeding and waste extraction tubes were removed from my body and they peeled off diodes from a battered chest, Max and my doctor helped me sit upright before swinging my legs out, to dangle my feet off the bed.
“How do you feel, Erin?”
“There will be a few more days of pain in my guts, right doc?”
“I’m afraid so. Going to the toilet might be a chore, but the pods will help.”
“Okay, I won’t ask how they do that. I’m sure you are right.”
On our road trip, my eyes opened gradually, and I thought perhaps fresh air wafting through the ambulance helped my recovery, revitalizing an exhausted body. Sore muscles and damaged sinews twitched and spasmed as though not entirely reconnected to mains power.
“Max?”
“Yeah honey?”
“Are we alone?”
“No, we have a female nurse who is sitting beside you.”
“Can I ask her something privately please?”
“Of course. I’ll join the driver in front.”
He shuffled away and I heard a seat belt click, confirming I had some privacy. My nurse came closer, whispering.
“Are you okay, Erin?”
“Can I still have kids?”
“Jesus woman you worried me for a moment. I thought you had a serious problem. Of course you can. The doctor told you everything physical will heal.”
She held my hand and I drifted off to sleep, perhaps for the first time without drug or alcohol inducement for a day and a half. My dreams were hideous, but something in my consciousness reassured me they were necessary and that I couldn’t be harmed.
As I slept, an overpowering sense of self preservation permeated through my psyche while I fought through hordes of demons, finally vanquishing a beast-like husband I should never have married.
I woke finally when the ambulance drove across gravel and halted with a scrunching sound.
“We’ve arrived.”
“A hint of pine and chilly breeze suggests mountains.”
“Yes. We’re in the Adirondacks to be precise.”
The ambulance rear double door opened and I was wheeled out. I felt soft fingers stroke my hand while a calm and gentle voice whispered to me.
“I will care for you Erin. You’re safe here.”
“Are you Sissitrix?”
“Yes dear. I’ll look after you. My pods will love and care for you.”
“Plug me in, please. Are you Max’s friend?”
“Yes, and now I’m your friend too. You’re safe here.”
“Did you plug my husband into a pod at the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“And what happened to him?”
“Brian is totally fucked. Within a week, nothing much will remain. The pod will deconstruct and consume him, turning every part of that miserable man into something that can help other people.”
“Good… fucking bastard.”
“Let’s get you inside and plugged in.”
I felt myself gently lifted by a crane hooked to the canvas I lay on. The stretcher was removed and I floated when attendants slid my crane along what appeared to be corridors. My eyes could just make out a white ceiling with segmented strip lights that I thought ran for two metres out of every five.
I blinked painfully, but it worked and my eyesight improved. My canvas sheet bed dangled by metal chains from a rail above that was used to transport me. We passed through several rooms before turning into other corridors until entering a cavernous hall the size of an opera house.
The glistening, brilliant white marble floors and walls contrasted an obsidian black pod that absorbed all light around it like a black hole. It looked terrifying, levitating a few feet off the ground, seemingly with no structure holding it in place.
As we drew closer, I noticed umbilicals of all diameters led from the top and underside, ascending into the ceiling fifty feet above or dropping to the marble slabs below.
As we approached the pod I noticed a name on its side… Allen.
“The pod has a name, Max.”
“Each pod has an individuality.”
I squeezed Max’s hand tighter, glancing up, surprised to see Sissitrix instead.
“Max can’t come inside here. This pod is very personal for you.”
“In what way?”
“It will flush and rejuvenate you in the days to come. To do that, it must suck onto or plug into your body.”
“How?”
“How do you think? You have holes everywhere my dear.”
“Oh… I see.”
“Allen’s attachment points to your body are organic, soft, supple and slippery. They adapt to hole size, swelling or reaching deeper if necessary. It will feel comfortable, maybe too much.”
“What do you mean by too much?”
“In a few days, you’ll have little orgasms, then bigger ones and finally so many, I’ll have to prise you out of the pod with a crowbar.”
“Are you sure about this, Sissitrix?”
“I’m certain you’ll love it. Go gently with Allen at first. The pod will cleanse and energize you.”
The pod was opened when we arrived and I saw slimy, fleshy pink appendages trembling as though they were alive. An LED screen was embedded in the underside of the lid with buttons and hand grips to each side of where my body would lie.
I was slid gently across from the canvas sling until dangling directly above the pod’s lower half with the lid wide open on its hinges.
When I was lowered into a warm gooey slime, it felt nice, taking all of my weight. The canvas sheet was removed and whatever gown they’d dressed me in for the sake of modesty, dissolved in the slime.
“I’m naked.”
“You have to be or Allen can’t invade your pussy, back passage and mouth.”
“Oh fuck, are you sure about this, Sissitrix?”
“The handgrip to your left has a red button. Hit that and all pod systems retreat, draining the fluid that you’re floating in before popping the lid.”
“Okay. Let’s give it a go.”
I steeled myself, ready for the experience, feeling lonely and trapped when the lid was closed, blocking out all light and sound. My screen flickered and I saw, then heard Sissitrix in high definition.
Sissitrix smiled at me, nodding confidently.
“Once Allen is activated this screen will display your deepest desires, but only to you. It’s like my onboard entertainment system. Are you comfortable, Erin?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll start the pod and you’ll be alone. Someone will check on you every four hours.
I felt diodes reach out, gently attaching to my chest and temples. The screen flickered again and I saw the ripened golden corn fields around my childhood home.
I squealed with surprise when a slimy finger gently pressed against my anal whorl. It retreated, then softly stroked the ridges around my sphincter. It stung but felt nice too, like when you rub around the edges of a wound that itches slightly as it heals.
When the slippery tentacle slid inside my back passage it couldn’t have been wider than a pin, expanding to pencil size once deep inside me. The feeling was exquisite, more so when a tiny vibration throbbed deep inside.
I felt warm liquid squirt gently inside my rectum, bathing internal cuts and grazes on my soft tissue walls from sexual violence and overuse. It hurt a little, but ripples of pleasure echoing inside my back passage canceled that pain out, and the gentle massage from my tentacle friend felt comforting.
I opened my legs wider, relaxing my back passage, enjoying the first thing that had been inserted inside my body by the pod.
Another tentacle stroked me, then two more helped massage. All three targeted my pussy. Two dipped inside my aching slit, one sucking gently onto my pee hole, the other sliding deep inside my pussy. I was desperate to pee, held it but then had to relieve my bladder. The tentacle covering my urethra, sucked as though consuming my waste and honestly, I heard contented gulping and a pleasurable sigh.
Inside my pussy, the pod tentacle had wound itself around my plumbing to god knows where, expanding gently until its slimy walls pressed softly against mine.
I was convinced a transference of medication between the pod and my reproductive organs was happening, but the engorging rush of blood through me was such that I floated on a cloud of tranquility, slipping into slumber.
When another tentacle descended from above my face, I didn’t resist. Once a seal was made with my mouth and nostrils, I breathed the freshest mountain air, filling my lungs with euphoria.
Falling asleep was easy and my last memory felt primal, I could only describe it as like being back inside my mother's womb. The internal pod lights dimmed gradually and my LED screen displayed the area outside.
As I drifted into a peaceful sleep, my mind tried to make sense of why the obsidian black pod shone brilliant white in the darkness.
Next Chapter:
A Resurgent Whore #4
I’d rested in Allen’s gentle care for three days without once feeling stressed out or bored. My only contact with the outside world was the ever vigilant, gentle face of Sissitrix who checked in frequently. Technicians probably visited, checking pod dials, fluid levels and my progress, but I never heard or saw …
Dive deeper into Sin Street on Sissitrix.com, where violence lurks in every alley and sex is a weapon. Brutal characters, tangled plots, and dark places in a corrupt neo-noir city that will drag you into its chaos. Written by Kate Granger, illustrated by Sissitrix.
Drawing this sex pod experience was very exciting and a chance to celebrate the biomechanical art of HR Giger. Thank you, Kate!