Hour 7: The Glass Jar

They brought her back from the old country. It was love at first sight.
There she was, in a little jar with big eyes, nice curves, and a soft green glow.

The shopkeeper said she was one of a kind. They would never find anything like her again.
Of course they bought her.

They brought her back to the states, fed her leaves and tiny pieces of meat and cheese. They had forgotten to ask what her kind eats, so they went through a series of trial and error until finally they figured out what she liked best – blood.

She was cute, by human standards. Long legs, perky breasts, wild eyes and a wolfish smile. The husband probably liked her more than he would admit and the wife felt strangely compelled to stare at her for hours on end.

They talked about letting her out of the jar. Letting her roam around the house free, but they were afraid the cat would get her. Mostly, though, they were afraid she’d escape and they’d never see her again.

Of course, the husband fell in love with her. He’d fantasize about her, imagine it was her and not his wife he was making love to.

The sex became angry, nearly violent, the longer his infatuation went on.

She seemed pleased with it, sitting in her jar, watching the couple go at it.

She began to whisper to them. To the wife more than the husband.
The wife, she could tell, was obviously jealous of her. She lusted for the long legs, the perky breasts. She probably looked like that once, or, maybe, she had never looked like that at all.

Oh, but you can! She said, her tiny voice barely audible from within the glass jar. I can give you whatever you want. I can grant wishes.

The wife was surprised. Had they bought a genie? She didn’t now this tiny thing could make wishes come true.

It’s simple, she said. I just need more nourishment. I’ve been in this jar for nearly fifty years. I’m weak.

When her husband had to work late, she sacrificed the cat. Opening the jar lid just enough to let the fresh blood pour in.
She watched.
She saw the little woman drink it up, moaning in pleasure, coating herself in the cat’s blood.

This is a good start. But it’s not enough.

The wife didn’t know what to do. She ran her hands over her own body. She used to think she was cute. Maybe a little too plump in some areas, but still cute. Her breasts were large, heavy, but not all that saggy. She had a pair of jeans that made her ass look fantastic. But, when she saw her in the jar, she knew what true beauty was. She wanted those breasts with the nipples that pointed straight out, those long legs with that most coveted gap between the thighs, that slight slope from the hips to the pubic bone that her husband had once mentioned he found incredibly sexy.

Her husband was no treat, himself. She knew if she could look like that, then she could do far better than him.

When her husband came home, tired and hungry, she began to seduce him.
He sat in the same chair he sat in every night for the last twenty years and waited for his dinner.
She brought it to him, like she’s always done, but this time, she was naked except for the small apron.

She stood in front of him, presenting his dinner, her breasts pushing against the apron fabric, peeking out at the sides. He seemed confused. She turned and he saw her bare ass as she walked away.

You can eat your dinner, or you can eat me, your choice. She said over her shoulder as she walked into the bedroom.

Like an animal he leapt up and chased after her, tearing his clothes off as he went.

I thought we’d try something a little different, she suggested.

He jumped onto the bed, waiting for this happy surprise.

She turned out the lights and lit some candles, watching him squirm with anticipation.

Confused, he watched her open the jar.

The little woman flew out and began to kiss his neck. Could his fantasy be a reality? He thought.
The thought didn’t last long.
His wife stabbed him in the throat.
The little woman gulped down his blood.
He tried to push her away, but he felt paralyzed.
His wife stood by, watching, smiling.

Was that enough? Can I look like you now?

The little woman wiped blood from her face, laughed and said No. You’re old, fat, and saggy. You can never look like me.
And she left.
She left the wife, naked and alone, looking down at the body that was once her husband.

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