by Lucian Bane
“Three creamers two sugars?”
“Yeah, and a dollop of diabetes. Look…” Ben showed him the map on the phone. “The tracks run here. This is the farm. And the river here.” He pointed to a spot. “This is where I think I need to go.”
His uncle nodded at it, sipping his coffee. “Let’s get’er done then,” he said, pulling the shift down on the column and taking off.
****
“Sure as shit didn’t look that far on the map,” his uncle huffed, looking like a pissed-off train blowing steam. They each carried a shovel while Ben shined the flashlight along the side of the tracks he remembered seeing. His body hummed with a strange feeling. Like a corpse with a fever. Cold on the outside, burning up on the inside.
He suddenly came to a stop at seeing a tree. “I recognize that.”
“What? The field?”
“That tree,” Ben said, making his way down the icy incline. Near the tree, he looked around, closing his eyes between breaths. “Come on,” he whispered, waiting for something. “Where is it?” He turned with his eyes closed, searching for any sound or sign.
He spun around at feeling like he’d been tapped on the shoulder and his gaze landed on something.
“You see something?” his uncle wondered, following him.
He didn’t see, he sensed. He stared at a spot on the ground then knelt. He felt around on the frozen grass, his breaths billowing out in in huge clouds.
“That it?” his uncle asked.
Then he smelt it. Blood. He shot up from the ground, getting nauseous as he nodded. “Right there,” he pointed, dropping the flashlight and stabbing the end of his shovel into the ground.
Fifteen minutes later, it occurred to him. He could be hallucinating the entire thing. The visions, the smells, the dreams. His brain could be creating all of it.
The idea filled him with dread, making dig faster. He needed this to be fucking real.
“Oh!” his uncle shot out between gasps. “Got something. Got your trash bag,” he said, throwing his shovel down.
Ben grabbed the flashlight, shining it. “God, fuck,” he whispered, his stomach roiling as he moved the dirt with his gloved hands. Even with the cold he could smell it.
He hauled the bag out of the hole and his uncle slid his knife carefully down the center then used the edge of his shovel to open it.
“Oh fuck!” Ben stumbled back, turning away from the body as his uncle did the same.
“God-fucking-dammit son,” he half yelled, glancing back at the horror.
“That’s her,” Ben said, leaning to empty his guts on the ground until he dry heaved.
“What now?” his uncle whispered, his breaths thick. “I’m gonna be honest with you, now. I didn’t think we’d actually find anything. Now we have a body.”
“Her name is Samantha Parks,” Ben struggled, fighting for air. “She… went missing from Washington state eight months ago. But she’s from here. He brings them back to their hometown and buries them.”
“You mean he brought past tense. This fucker is dead, right?”
Ben nodded, not knowing what to do now. “Somebody needs to find it and call it in.”
His uncle gave a sniff, shaking his head. “So, we gonna leave it?” He sounded more than happy with that idea.
“They’re still looking for her.” Ben still couldn’t catch his breath around the pain in his chest. “They’re still looking for their daughter.” A tormented sob burst from him at imagining this being his daughter. Or his wife.
“It’s not your fault, son,” his uncle said.
“We need to go to that restaurant,” Ben said, snatching up the shovel and flashlight, heading back to the track.
His uncle caught up to him. “Then what?”
“I don’t fucking know.”
****
Ben washed his hands and face in the restaurant’s bathroom sink, then yanked about ten napkins from the holder. Patting himself dry, he replaced his cap and scarf, making sure the lower half of his face was covered good enough before exiting the one-man room.
In the small hallway, he closed his eyes, waiting for some kind of direction. Something was there he needed to see. Learn. Something important. He made his way over to the booth where his uncle sat drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. “I ordered us the specialty,” his uncle said, sounding suspicious. “Chili and cinnamon rolls.”
Ben looked around at the small diner. “Chili and cinnamon rolls,” he muttered, sure he’d throw up if he tried to eat anything, especially that.
“A famous combo, apparently,” his uncle said, before leaning in to whisper. “Kitchen looks like a gas-station bathroom at your last gawdamn wrong turn if you ask me.”
Ben nodded, looking at the pictures on the wall. He slid out of the booth when his eye landed on one that said look.
His uncle came up next to him. “What you got?” he whispered.
“I got this,” Ben said, pointing to the picture. “What is that?”
His uncle leaned in. “Some kind of…music emblem.”
“It’s tattooed on the side of my head, right above my right ear,” he whispered, his racing pulse indicating it meant something.
“Seems the owner of this joint is Darren Friend, of Friend Nebraska,” his uncle muttered, rocking on his heels with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Friend Nebraska,” Ben muttered, getting more nauseated. This was it, the thing he needed to find. “I think he’s important. Let’s get out of here.”
“Thaaaank yoooouuu,” he sang-muttered in gratitude, patting him on the back. “I’ll pay for that chili bullshit we haven’t been served yet.”
Living with a Psychopath
“Darren Friend,” Ben said, locking the door of their bedroom and turning to Cheryl. “I have to figure out who he is, then we can do what you promised.” He wanted her to know he intended to cash in on that.
“Okay, I have your computer ready for you.”
“I would kiss you, but I won’t be able to stop,” he said, seeing she wanted it.
“It’s okay.” She stepped aside and gave him room, showing him just how perceptive she was to his dysfunctions. It made him want her in that second, bury himself in the psychotic safety-net she’d made herself into for him.
He sat and opened the laptop, his cock raging hard as he typed the name into the computer. Finding the Wiki link, he hit it, his eyes going to the guy’s picture on the right of the page.
Ben stared at it, shaking his head as he read his information. His eyes snagged on Darren Friend Jr., and he hit the link. His wind left him when his picture came up. “That’s him,” he whispered.
“Who is he?” Cheryl asked on his right.
“I’m… not sure.” He ran through his history, not picking up anything that dinged. What about that music note? Ben opened another page and typed in music notes under images.
“That’s the one you have,” Cheryl muttered, pointing it out after Ben clicked.
He went back to the first Darren Friend’s page and read again. His pulse leapt in his throat. “His mother was a musician.” It meant something but what?
“What about…calling the authorities?” Cheryl reminded him, carefully. “Charlie mentioned that the body might get taken by a wild animal.”
Ben’s brain snapped to attention with that. God, he was right. He pulled his phone out and called his uncle.
“Miss me already?” he answered.
“What about animals getting the body,” Ben whispered.
His uncle’s groan meant he’d not thought of it. “We gotta call it in. I’ll do it.”
“You?”
“Yeah, I’ll do it anonymous.”
“But they’ll trace your number.”
“Not if I go to that store in town with the payphone.”
“What will you tell them?”
He gave a sigh, sounding like he moved about. “I guess I can’t tell them the killer’s head told me, now can I,” his uncle
grumbled.
“Definitely not,” Ben agreed.
“What the hell was I even
doing in that spot to uncover it? I could say I was hunting, and my hound sniffed it out,” he decided.
“You have a hound?”
“No I ain’t got no gawdamn hound, but I need something that sounds legit enough they go look see, or else they might chalk it up to a prank.”
Ben tried to think of why the idea might be bad or good but got nothing on both fronts. “Okay," he nodded. "Hunting sounds good. Let me know when it’s done, okay? I need to sleep, and I won’t til’ it's finished.”
“Headed there now, cuz I’d like to sleep myself. You owe me.”
“We’ll fish,” Ben threw out while fingering the incision on his neck.
“Damn right we will,” he muttered. “Later.”
Ben hung up and his mind set a thirty-minute timer. Precisely how long he had to get what he had to have.
“Undress,” she said, reading the look on his face. “Then get on the bed on your back.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He removed his t-shirt then got busy on his pants, watching her walk to the dresser and pull out a black scarf looking material.
“You have to be tied,” she said as he approached the bed, his cock leading the way. He stared at her as he lay on it, aroused speechless.
“Put your arms above your head.”
He complied, bending his legs at his knees and letting them fall open. She undressed then. Fucking black panty and bra. Sheer. His cock jerked at seeing she would keep them on. He eyed her breasts as she climbed on his chest and sat with all her weight while tying his wrists with the black scarf. She yanked the tie tight, making his dick jerk. “Reach for the headboard,” she instructed, her voice silky.
He raised his arms and she walked on her knees, putting them on either side of his head so her pussy was right above him. Then he saw it. “You shaved,” he shot out as she lowered and stroked her sheer black cunt over his nose and mouth while she tied him to the headboard. His hunger came in ragged groans as he leaned up, pressing his mouth against the wet material, biting her lips until she cried out.
“I’m going to eat your pussy till you need to scream. But you can’t scream," he reminded her. You have to be so quiet.”
She lifted up and turned around, her ass facing him as she crawled off the bed and fetched two more scarfs. He’d buy her fifty more of those.
She was tying his legs, fuck. Open. Wide open, he realized after she secured the first one to the bed frame.
“Such a nasty girl,” he gasped when she pulled his other leg wide, securing him. “Are you going to hurt me?” He rolled his hips hard, pushing his cock into the air.
She climbed on the bed at his side till her face hovered over his. Gripping his jaw tight, she nipped at his mouth and he groaned at the feeling, fighting to bite her back. She kept moving out of his reach, teasing. “I’m going to make you suck my pussy till I come on your mouth.” She grabbed tight hold of the base of his cock.
“What will you do to my cock?”
“I’m going to bite it hard.”
“How hard,” he shot out, watching her fist move down to the base.
“Hard enough to leave marks.”
He closed his eyes at the ecstasy her words brought. “I’m going to bite your pussy,” he warned, grunting.
Her eager breaths hit his mouth. “I hope I don’t suffocate you accidentally,” she whispered, bringing his orgasm surging forward already. Where did she got that idea? Had she been digging around in his head? “Don’t…punish me with your pussy till I come,” he gasped, knowing she understood. “Don’t make me eat your cunt till I can’t breathe.”
****
Cheryl was delirious with fear and excitement. He was tied. And still she was terrified of him, of the power he had over her. The kind of power that had her brainstorming ways to be his psychotic chew toy. She couldn’t get lost in this. She needed to remember the purpose and goal. To have outlets while they figured out what was going on with him and how to fix it.
Then there was the part of her loving what he did. That was scary. She could feel the power of these desires, the lure for more. Just a little more. A little harder. A little scarier. A little deadlier.
Just get through this one. Don’t think about what’s next.
“Yes, take your fucking panties off,” he swore, eyeing her pussy. She wasn’t sure how he’d react to her shaving and never guessed like this.
The need and fear to force that part of her all over his terrifying mouth were at war. A very vicious one, as she climbed on him, putting her face at his cock and her pussy at his mouth. She wanted to set rules but wasn’t sure how.
“If you bite me too hard, I won’t play with you again,” she decided to go with at the last second.
“You’re threatening me,” he whispered, like that might turn him on too. But it also sounded like it might have consequences.
“Do you understand?” she pushed, remembering she needed to be in charge.
“I do.”
“Start softly,” she ordered. “I want you to make me feel good.”
“Give me your pussy, please,” he begged, his hot breaths blasting on her.
She looked down between her legs as she lowered herself while gripping his cock. She closed her eyes and let out a breath at feeling him being so soft and gentle. “That’s very good,” she whispered, stroking his cock in return while moving her pussy against his supple mouth, feeling his lips with hers. “Ben,” she whispered, sliding herself up and down, feeling his nose in her entrance and his tongue on her clit.
He growled even while he went carefully and softly. Cheryl focused on his cock before her, wanting to reward him. “That’s a good boy,” she said, licking along his slit while rocking her hips a little harder on his mouth.
At feeling his groan of appreciation, she sucked the head of his cock into her lips, pressing her teeth into the thick skin with a daring pressure. He shot out a groan on her pussy and thrust his hips.
God his mouth felt amazing. So good. Yes. She took him deeper, moving slowly down his length while pressing herself harder on his mouth, moving it so every part of her got to feel his lips and tongue. She pulled slowly up his cock, sucking tight enough to pull a harsh groan from him while he pushed his nose rapidly in her entrance and flicking at her clit with his tongue. Wanting his tongue in her pussy, she moved in the opposite direction, pumping on his tongue now. She found an angle that put her clit on his chin, and the rough skin made her gasp and dive back on his cock. She bit him at the very base while wiggling her clit over his ever-moving jaw.
She was lost to needing an orgasm, ready to do whatever it took to get it. Every time she bit him, he jerked and flicked his hips faster and soon he opened his mouth so his teeth scraped against her inner folds. Her clit was boiling hot and she knew, she was ready for pain.
“Do it,” she gasped after pulling off his cock and wetting her middle finger on his pre-cum. “I’m going to put my finger deep in your ass. You’ve been such a bad boy.”
She knew he loved those words and was glad they weren’t as strange sounding as she thought they’d be. He answered her with sounds that said he was very sorry, and she should please, please make it hurt.
She dropped her head onto his hard length and bit the base again. He strained and groaned on her pussy as she kept her bite steady, slowly increasing the pressure as she worked her finger into his ass.
He gave frantic, growling pants on her now. The sound of him so close to orgasm drove her out of her mind with desire. She added more pain to her bite and fucked him fast and deep, ready to make him come. She pressed her pussy harder against his mouth, flicking her hips non-stop. She worked a second finger into his ass and banged the head of his cock against her throat while biting him harder than ever.
He was suddenly bucking beneath her and she focused on bringing his release, putting all her weight on his body, feeling every bit of
his pleasure as she drank his hot cum shooting in her throat.
Beyond ready for her own orgasm, she climbed off him and knelt over his face, holding his head while sitting again. “Suck my pussy,” she ordered, not having to pretend to be the nasty girl he accused her of. She rocked herself hard on him, her mouth shooting open when she grazed her clit on his teeth. She held his head tighter, moving exactly on that spot, gasping at the delicious heat. “Oh God, oh God,” she crooned, flicking her hips faster. “Suck it, suck it!” she blasted, moving so he could.
He groaned thickly on her, drawing her clit into a glorious suction until she bucked uncontrollably, sliding her clit all over, focusing on the hard tip of his nose until she was spent.
Half dizzy, she felt him turn his face right, gasping for air like he’d been drowning. Panicked, she hurried off and held his face. “I’m…”
“Don’t you fucking say it,” he gushed, his eyes rolling open at her. “Don’t apologize for that. Never,” he croaked, closing his eyes again. “That was…so fucking perfect.”
She lowered her mouth to his and he opened wide with a lusty groan when she kissed him.
“You taste your fucking cunt all over me? Wicked fucking cunt,” he whispered, biting at her lips and making her whimper. “I think it’s my turn.” His words growled with his breaths. “My turn to make you hurt so fucking good.”
****
The phone rang before Ben could think of what he wanted. Cheryl untied him and he was about to turn the phone off when it rang again.
“Maybe he needs to tell you something,” Cheryl said, sounding worried. But not of what her uncle had to say, he knew.
He answered the phone.
“It’s done,” his uncle said.
“Good. What they say?”
“They thanked me and said they’d look into it.”
Ben sensed there was more. “That it?”
His uncle gave a sigh. “So, I did some digging of my own.”
Ben’s pulse shot up. “And?”