Rosemary's Baby

 

Rosemary’s Baby

 Chapter Three. Part 2.

De de-de-de

 

 (Mungo Jerry - My Lady Rose 1971)

 

After selecting various morbid tattoos and with much laughter, they covered each other’s bodies in lurid designs but now dressed in the outfits, she watched him put on a pair of black kidskin gloves, the palms covered in multiples of glistening, tiny round, flat metal beads. Then how he took down from a shelf an ancient, large red leather book, its cover embossed with a strange emblem.

 “What’s with the gloves? I haven’t got any and I don’t quite like the look of that book. Let me see it.”

            Passing it to her and watching how she slowly let her finger feel the smoothness  of oxidised copper and in a voice reminiscent of Darth Vadar. “ It’s the Necronomicon gate seal. The seal of true evil. The book I need to chant out the secret spells used for the ritual of sacrifice of the innocent so that they can pass into the dark side of the force. It is the finest sample of perfect verisimilitude. Call it a sort of rite of passage. The gloves will show the way.”

“It’s locked, pointing to the flap with a tiny keyhole. Where’s the key and what does that unpronounceable word mean?”

“ Oh. Verisimilitude? Well… say, like in the bible, for example, Jesus rises from the dead. Is this proposition closer to the truth than other propositions? Philosophers however see a major problem with it. Attempting to understand it is to try and differentiate been fake news that could be closer to the truth than other fakes news of the same topic. Hence articulating what it takes for one false theory to be closer to the truth than another false theory.

A small key hanging from a fine gold chain was handed over. She didn’t bother to ask how that suddenly appeared. She was feeling groggy, just a little nervous and had not understood one word he had said. As she unlocked the book and started carefully to flip through the beautifully quilled Latin pages. The borders, in weird emblems of ancient Viking runes, entire faded white satin papers - covered as being from church stained glass windows. She shivered. They reminded her of the film she had just watched. The hair on the back of her neck started to rise along with the goose pimples on her arms.

 

 

“This is all starting to scare me a little. You’re not an occultist, are you? Am I going to be privy to my own dismemberment?” She started to babble now. ”This book is worth a fortune. Where did you get it? And.” She paused. Trying to get her thoughts together in a now soggy brain, “what happens at midnight? You said we only had an hour to get ready. It must have come and gone by now. Which of these silent clocks did you use? They are all stopped.”

            “I don’t remember which one, just that you must orgasm exactly at the stroke of midnight. Every other question will be answered later. Now we enter the temple of sin that awaits you.”

 

She followed him. Swinging her arms around to try and see through the red fog, with more still flooding into the room.

            “In other words. That book is the birthplace of satanic conspiracy theories. And,” thinking hard, “time really has stopped in here. So… midnight is when I orgasm no matter how long it takes. I rather like that idea. Anyway, you haven’t appeared to be a stark raving deranged serial killer, where did you learn all this stuff?”

            Before he could answer she stopped and stared at the coffee table and started violently coughing from gasping in the hash filled cloud. Staggering to the window she fully opened it, the warm blast entering creating swirls in the haze. Recovering, she pointed to the dagger.

            “If God really is looking down at everyone and judging the way they live their lives… mine is really fucked now isn’t it? If I go to hell tonight at the stroke of 12, you will still be here enrolling more candidates from mDates to be coerced  into consensual acts of sex that most definitely has missionary position on the last page of the Karma Sutra.”

Closing the window, she turned back, clasped her hands in prayer. “They say that in space no one can hear you scream. I am now totally spaced out. No one will hear mine.” Bowing her head and with wide shut eyes, “I am all yours, Lord of Darkness. Command me as you desire.”

 

“Rosemary come and kneel before me. Take out the shrivelled worm and turn it into an ecstatic rod so that we can connect together to speak to the one that awaits.”

            With his back to the television and the table pushed against the couch, he started reading from the open book, chanting out incomprehensible gibberish in perfect rhyme with the music. As she obeyed and exposing the target ,she sucked hard, her teeth biting softly the rim of the rapidly expanding organ as organ music filled her ears.

            In his quaint German, his voice mimicked that of the excited mass murderer, Son of Sam,

            “Arise my child of innocence,” and turning her face to the table, “spread wide your legs, bend and place your elbows before the board of truth."

    Puffing heavily from so much blow jobbing, that had still not blown, the weird fog fogging her mind to almost one of condescending stupidity, she did as she was told, watching with bloodshot eyes as he took the dagger out of its sheaf and standing up again, slashed her gowns into ribbons.  Now naked, he spread her trembling buttocks and with no preparation, thrust his dagger deep into her moist sheaf.

            “Satin, I offer her for you to impregnate, for unlike God who needs a virgin, she has been deflowered, truly broken in, and you are the only one capable of making even the barren, and anti-pregnancy pill takers, fertile for your baby to be made with hate. She will care for the child, giving its hungry mouth a hard, dribbling nipple, swollen breast whilst I suckle the other, making it pump out pure milk and honey from the promised land as I knead it. Master guide my hands. Tell us you are here.”

            Leaning over her, and with a reassuring kiss, taking some of his weight onto his outstretched left arm, the other with spread reversed palm hovered above the devil cursor. It began to move. She watched in horror as it seemed to glide, spin slightly, till its pointed tail stopped on the ‘YES’.

            Whispering in her ear. “ Ask him what you are thinking Rosemary. Do you except that you will host his baby, care for it until it turns six on the sixth day of the sixth month and goes demonic and destroys the planet?”

“I do, Oh God forgive me. I do.”

The curser moved again and again as his palm followed in unison. “Call out the letters.” He demanded.

“F,U,C,K,M,E,H,A,R,D,E,R”

He reacted immediately. Standing up again he clutched hips her tightly and hammered stronger and stronger thrusts. Both began to sweat, grunt and groan as their nether parts ground together in unison. Her legs started to buckle. Quickly he lifted her hips up, her legs crooked instinctively around his back, and with locked feet used her thigh muscles to catch the thrust, and causeing his tense eggs to slap loudly against her arse with now faster rythem. He bent his knees slightly making his cock head rub hard against the top of her dark tunnel to hell. Its swollen head, the eye open looking for the spot that is the switch to floods of passionate lust. No clocks showed midnight as he stared to ejaculate on the exact place. It seemed every muscle was writhing, trying to burst out of her skin. A high-pitched scream came out of her wide open mouth as gushes of clear, odourless liquid mixed with his come drenched his front. Each spasm released torrents carrying away his semen he was still spraying into her. Drenching her thighs before creating a puddle on the laminate floor.

“I’m impregnated and pregnant with the satin’s son.” She wailed.

Her elbows collapsed, and unlocking her legs, slipped off him. Trembling over her entire body, mumbling out strange sounds from a spittle lipped mouth, he gently helped her up and pushing aside the table sat her on the sofa. Her glazed eyes, streaming tears, rolled uncontrollably in her lolling head. He brought over the blanket, placing it around her shoulders and open legs. From her still open swollen vulva, juice leaked out their shared bodily fluids, staining the leather dark.

Handing over a canned soda and sitting next to her, he hugged her shaking body. “Drink my baby, Calm down. Let me explain to you what has just happened.”