How can you tell when a person has had enough? They give up. They give up emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Then, they give it all away.
This was exactly where Stacey Stuart was, on the 12
th
of July, 2021. She had given up and was now in the process of giving everything away. She had a plan, of course. You have to have a plan.
But, you know what they say about the best-laid plans of mice and men. This is precisely when Stacey Stuart met Vladimir. She had managed to give away her car, her TV, her stereo and even her phone. Most of her clothes were junk, so those she just burned. All that was left were the two dollars she had in her pocket, the ratty jeans and t-shirt she wore, and the holey all-stars that reeked of her unwashed feet.
For the last two days, she had been on the street, preparing. Was she desperate enough? Just about.
Vlad watched her from across the alley as she picked through the dumpster for some morsel to sustain herself. That was when he approached, when she was knee-deep in filth.
"What on earth are you doing?" He asked, his Russian accent flavoring his words.
"I just need one more meal, and then..., well, then it's time." She explained.
"Time for what?" Vlad asked, thinking he knew.
"You know." Stacey made a motion as if a rope had been yanked upward around her neck. She was pretty convincing.
"Have you given everything away?" He asked, regarding the waif-like creature that stood pitifully inside the dumpster. She would be attractive if she hadn't been so thin. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-Six. Why?"
"Just curious. Why don't you come out here so you can finish your business." Vlad insisted.
"And what business would that be?" Stacey asked, curiously.
"You need to finish giving everything away." He insisted.
"Look, mister. I've got nothing left to give away." Stacey appeared annoyed and climbed out to challenge the foreigner.
"I beg to differ." Vlad grinned an evil grin. "Shall I explain?"
"Sure. Go for it."
"Let me feed you something, first. Come back to my place and I will cook you a last meal, if you will." Vlad offered.
"What have I got to lose? If you waste me, I've accomplished my goal anyway, right?" Stacey grumbled. She followed the strange man through the back avenues of the city to an old apartment building. Stacey could tell it was used to be nice, but had fallen into decay like everything else there.
Once inside, Stacey was amazed at how well kept the place seemed to be. Appearances can be deceiving, she thought. Climbing a few flights of stairs, they came to a steel door.
"This is my home. Please respect and take off your shoes before you come inside." Vlad requested.
"Look, mister, my feet haven't been washed and they stink in these things. Are you sure?" She asked, warily.
"I'm quite certain I can handle your... odor," Vlad assured her.
As she slipped out of the well-worn sneakers, the unmistakable aroma of Stacey's feet filled the hallway. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but he always did have a thing for feet.
"Hand them to me." He ordered. She looked at him sideways, but saw no reason not to comply. She bent down and picked up the ripe shoes and hung them out in front of her.
Taking them from her, he walked down the hall a few doors and deposited them in the garbage chute. "There, you've given something else away." Vlad declared.
"Very funny. Now I've got no shoes." Stacey complained.
"Precisely." Vlad opened the door to his apartment and ushered Stacey inside. She padded across the large expansive room, admiring the ornate decorations and lavish accoutrements.
"This place is amazing." Stacey finally said. He indicated a sofa, and she sat, albeit a bit uncomfortably. She knew how dirty she was, and looked down at her feet, the soil on them visible even in the dimmed lighting of the room.
He could sense her discomfort, her nose wrinkling as she realized how awful she smelled; how her feet stank. She was a filthy girl, and that was soon going to be remedied. "Why don't you take a shower, while I cook you something. I'm quite certain it has been some time since you washed."
He showed her the marble-tiled bathroom and told her to help herself to any shampoo or soap she pleased. "I'll cook something, then." And with that, he left her.
Stacey slowly stripped out her rancid clothing, leaving her jeans and shirt in a pile on the floor. She wore no underwear or bra, so that was all it took for her to be entirely naked. She looked at herself in the large ceiling-to-floor mirror, shaking her head at the state she was in. Her hair hung lank and straight to her small, deflated breasts, and her ribs seemed to be more pronounced than ever before. She was starving to death.
Stacey's skin was pale beyond pale, and were it not for the thin sheen of soil, she might be completely white, her skin almost transparent. Looking down, her once ample bush had thinned to a sparse covering of random hair that barely hid anything. Her vulva and labia were on full display.
Shrugging her shoulders, she turned to the shower, lifting the large single spigot to send rivulets of water cascading down from a large showerhead. Stepping beneath the jets, she sighed audibly as the water ran over her skin. For a moment, she just stood there, the warm shower feeling better than anything she had felt in some time.
Then she set about the task of washing the accumulated filth from her body, her hair, and most especially, her feet. Her reverie was broken when the door to the bathroom opened.
"Let me take these for you," Vlad said, as he lifted the pile of clothing off the floor.
Not knowing what else to say, and not wanting to offend, Stacey answered. "Okay."
He watched her for a moment, distorted through the rippled glass of the shower door. When she stopped moving and turned in his direction, he realized she knew he was there. Holding the clothes at arms-length, he backed out of the room, leaving Stacey to her shower.
When she knew that she was as clean as a single shower might allow, she shut off the water and stepped out into the relatively cool room. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she toweled herself dry, but upon seeing her body in the mirror, she was forced to stop.
Indeed, without the benefit of dirt, her skin was as white as alabaster, and the blue veins that coursed beneath were nearly visible through her semi-transparent skin. She never noticed that before. Was that part of starving yourself, she wondered?
Realizing that she had nothing to wear, and not that she would have wanted to don her filthy clothing now, she wrapped herself in a towel and walked out of the bath. The sounds of implements against metal drew her to the kitchen, where she found Vladimir, standing over a large stove. "I've got nothing to wear."
"Precisely. What is your name?" He asked.
"Stacey. I thought I told you." She sighed.
"No, you did not. Why don't you have a seat?" He pointed to a large glass-top table that dominated one end of the kitchen. She did as he asked. "I thought you were giving things away, not taking them?" Vlad pressed, noticing the towel that she had wrapped around her naked form. "You gave me your clothes, willingly, and they found their way to where they belonged."
Stacey knew that he had tossed them down the garbage chute, just as he had her sneakers. Looking down at the towel, she realized that it was the only barrier to being completely without possessions. Standing, she unwrapped the soft cotton towel and held it out for Vlad to take. "Here."
"You can return it to where you borrowed it from, please," Vlad asked, politely. He watched as she stood, naked and exposed and seemingly unashamed. She turned and walked away, after allowing him to gaze upon her. She hadn't needed to do that, but she had. He sat and stared at the empty chair until he heard the padding of her naked feet on his hardwood floor. He turned to the stove, finishing the meal.
Stacey had no idea why she didn't feel embarrassed. She had never done anything like this, ever. She was completely naked, and as Vlad had pointed out, finally devoid of all physical possessions. The sensation of owning absolutely nothing was almost as cleansing as the shower had been. Perhaps that is why she felt no shame or humiliation at being naked before this man.
"You see, now I have given everything away." Stacey pointed out, as she consumed the tasty meal Vlad had prepared.
"Still, I beg to differ with you, Stacey," Vlad explained.
"Look, mi... what is your name, by the way?" She asked, realizing she had no idea.
"Vladimir. But you can call me Vlad." He offered, clearing the plates to the dishwasher and returning to the table. "You still have this." He reached out and tugged at her long blonde hair.
"My hair? You want me to give away my hair?" She seemed disturbed by the idea.
"Why not? It certainly has value. As thin as it appears, I am quite certain you could still donate it to a good cause." Vlad tested, wondering if she was even listening. Since he had suggested the idea, Stacey seemed lost in thought.
"Yes. Why not." Stacey offered, running her thin fingers through the long blonde strands.
