by Jack Bantry
There was a brief silence as they looked at one another. Blake didn’t want it to turn awkward so he said, “I still can’t believe you’re letting me record this.”
There was that infamous Karla shrug. “Well, there’ll be a lot going on. We don’t want to miss anything, do we, Jules?”
“No,” Julie agreed.
“And I guess I feel better with the buddy system.” She draped an arm around Julie. “Besides, she told me it wasn’t a big deal.”
Uh oh, Blake thought. He hoped Julie hadn’t discussed the circumstances of her debut. He figured they wouldn’t all be here right now if she had, though. He checked the angle one more time—didn’t want to lose a frame of the magic—and pushed the record option.
“Okay, then, girls,” he said. “Lights, camera, action.”
***
Later, with the camera wired to the TV in the living room, a sated and delirious trio sat down to watch the video.
The static shot captured the bed and part of the computer desk chair to the left. Blake took the middle of the bed and Karla and Julie converged on him. They burrowed into each side of his throat with their lips and tongues, their fingers exploring. Blake’s out-stretched fingers teased circles on their backs as they tasted him. They wasted little time in systematically stripping him down, Karla undoing his pants, Julie helping him out of his shirt. Karla dragged his pants off his ankles and tossed them aside. He was already stiff, and Karla slipped a hand down to make sure he stayed that way.
Julie guided the wrist on her side against the bedpost and pulled Blake’s shirt taut against it.
“Hey,” he said. “What are you…” He didn’t sound alarmed at all, though; more like elated.
Julie shushed him. “Let us take good care of you, like you deserve, lover.” She knotted the shirt with its long sleeves, securing him to the post.
“Okay, just… slow down if I tell you.”
Blake undoubtedly intended to edit this request out in the final cut, same way he’d manipulated the dual footage from the Grudgefuxx video.
Karla slipped out of her top to reveal a black bra beneath. She shrugged out of the straps, unhooked it, and went to work tying Blake’s other arm on her side of the bed with the bra. He loved her tits.
“You’re so hard,” she said. “Do you think it can take me and Julie doing the scissors?”
Blake tilted his head back as far as it could go against the pillow, releasing an emotive grunt of pleasure. “Only one way to find out,” he said, almost a gasp. His heels rubbed against the bedspread like he was trying to slide backward. His hardness twitched with each beat of his pulse. Karla reached by the foot of the bed where his boxers hung from the edge and retrieved them. She wadded them up in her hand as Julie crouched down by the bed to reach underneath it. Karla stuffed the ball of Blake’s underwear into his mouth. He made sounds of puzzlement and surprise, voice adequately muffled. Karla completed the job by wrapping her top around his face to keep him gagged as Blake thrashed, trying to free his hands.
Julie stood up from the bed with a pair of hedge clippers.
Blake’s muffled screaming grew more animated as he saw the “scissors.” He started digging into the bed with his heels, alternately sliding and kicking out.
“Get his legs,” Julie said. “Try to keep low so we get it on the…” She nodded in the direction of the camera.
Karla briefly obscured Blake as she came to the foot of the bed, managed to get a hold of both of his ankles, and sat down to hold them tight to the mattress. He continued to thrash like a fish with his body in a straight line. In the process of being bound and gagged, he’d lost his excitement. His penis flipped around in his struggle, but remained limp.
“What’s wrong, Blakey?” Julie said. “You not sure about this anymore?”
Julie put the tip of the hedge clippers against his sac. Blake stopped moving instantly. His eyes could have been ping pong balls.
“I’ll make you a promise. If you don’t get hard, I won’t hurt you. But if you do…” She brought the blades back up where he could see them, opened and snapped them shut. Even on the video it was a powerful sound, metal jaws.
Blake looked from Julie to Karla and back, apparently hoping someone would intervene.
“Okay.” Julie set the clippers aside and lowered her head to his crotch. “As boring as you thought I was at this, you shouldn’t have any problem now, should you?”
His limp dick vanished between her lips. Julie’s head bobbed patiently, barely raising, and then more animatedly. Blake made an uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-hhhhhhhhh sound of effort, a man with an umbrella in the shadow of a tsunami.
“Uh oh,” Julie said, muffled around the meat in her mouth. She pulled back from it and looked over at the camera, hands framing the results like a letter turned on Wheel of Fortune. “Voila.”
Blake shook his head vehemently, the entire side of his face touching down on the pillow with each turn.
Julie collected the hedge clippers again. To Karla, she said, “Hold him tight.”
The blades of the clippers split apart and Julie guided them to the swaying erection. Blake renewed the uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh sound as if the right frequency of it could abruptly defuse his hardness. It didn’t. Julie snapped the blades shut. They sheared through the head of his penis like the end of a banana. He bucked against the bed, ejaculating in a crimson geyser. The spurts of blood sprayed haphazardly, like a running faucet blocked by a thumb. They drenched Julie’s hands and arms, spattering the front of her shirt.
“Stand back, I’m letting him go,” Karla warned. She disappeared from the frame and soon the lens zoomed to the severed flesh of Blake’s cock. Deep red continued to spool from the shredded shaft, the branch of a split artery visible with the close-up. Its buoyancy tapered a bit. Karla zoomed back out (after a little trial and error). Blake’s thighs were covered in blood. His cries had become mewls, so weak they barely carried past the gag.
“Better make the calls,” Julie said.
A moment later, Karla’s voice off screen, “Come on up,” followed a few seconds later by a muffled ringing from Blake’s pants. When it stopped, Karla said, “Hi, it’s me. Guess you can’t make it tonight. How about a call next time, asshole?”
“Just in case,” Julie said to Blake.
There was a knock at the door. Blake bounced in the bed and grunted into the gag, straining to be heard by the new visitor. He looked like he was having a seizure. It all stopped abruptly.
“I thought you were gonna tell me all about it, Blake,” a male voice said.
Karla zoomed in on the bed. Blake was pale, on the threshold of shock, but there was no mistaking his bafflement. He renewed his attempts to talk, though he never came close to saying anything comprehensible.
“I owe you an apology, man,” Adrian said, entering the frame. “I lied. I have a real girlfriend, not some long distance bullshit. You know Julie already, obviously. You’re probably not too heartbroken that she hooked up with me since you didn’t mind sharing her online with all the scum on Grudgefuxx. She didn’t want to tell me that you put her on the site when we first started dating, but she was scared I’d find out anyway, and then what would I think? That was a nice little burden you put on someone willing to do things she never would have before just to please you. It made me fucking sick to have to listen to you laugh about it. We couldn’t let it go. Not knowing you didn’t care what it might do to her. No way. “
There were sounds from Blake struggling again. He looked pointedly in Karla’s direction. His skin was the color of custard.
“Julie and I have been friends since high school,” Karla said. She was raising a middle finger at Blake when she stepped into frame again. “I’d do anything to help her. Even screw a waste of life like you.”
“And you needed a second science credit anyway,” Julie pointed out.
“That too.”
“You were so excited to get your dick wet after all that shit you talked
about her,” Adrian said. “That’s almost the best part. We could have shot you in an alley or some shit, but it wouldn’t have been as good. We’ve been talking about this for a couple months. It had to be something really fucked up, and we just had to get it on camera. Nothing seemed brutal enough for what you deserved. But one day we stopped trying to talk each other out of going this far with it. And if I ever felt like we shouldn’t go through with it, we’d just read through the hundreds of comments on the page. What do you think they’d say about you now? With any luck, we can delete that video through your account on Grudgefuxx, and all the others. You save your passwords, don’t you?”
No response from Blake, of course.
“Thanks for bringing your camera, by the way,” Karla said. “We thought we’d get a second angle, like you did. Better coverage. Ours is over there.” She pointed offscreen toward the computer desk.
“It’s too bad we had to gag him,” Julie said. “You know he would have made some good faces.”
“He looks like he’s going to faint.”
“Guess he was wrong about plenty of him to go around.”
Karla giggled.
“Oh my God,” Adrian groaned. “He really said that?”
“Really,” Julie said. “I wish we got it on tape. Come on, get the other toy.”
There was a cut in the video. When it came back, Karla zoomed in on Blake’s mutilated sex. They had stopped the bleeding by twisting a rubber band around the shaft, coiling it three or four times to compress the organ. Blake stirred weakly, unable to so much as kick with his legs.
“Here,” Karla said. A D-shaped metal object with a long row of sharp jagged teeth appeared from the right. Adrian reached over to take it. He and Julie moved to the left side of the bed while Karla took her place to the right.
At the sight of the saw Blake found the strength to kick a little bit, but it was like the convulsions from a wounded animal, a possum kicking in death throes after being crushed by a truck. Adrian set the hacksaw down at waist level. He and Julie took hold of their side and Karla took hers. It took a minute to find their rhythm, the teeth of the blade hesitant to carve through the skin, but they finally found a smooth motion at just the right angle, their efforts soon in perfect tandem. They grunted with the effort of sawing, like seasoned lovers in an orgy. Flesh separated in jagged ridges. Blake’s feet kicked more aggressively, his rubber banded dick flopping to and fro. Blood splattered. The ridge of red expanded.
“Really bear down,” Adrian said, winded.
The saw kept catching on bone, the ribs, the pelvic girdle, the spine. When they thought they had made enough progress, they pushed the lower half of his body upward to try to wrench it away from the top. At one point it looked like he was trying to lie on his side, except only the part of him from the waist down got the memo. The trunk of his body stayed in cruciform. Organs spilled out the front and back sides as they tried to wrench his legs away, a glistening mound of clumps and coils in primary colors. Adrian had to turn away and breathe for a moment.
“Come on, it’s not much worse than lab,” Karla said, teasing him with a smile.
When he trusted himself to look at Blake’s split body again, they angled the saw into the gap until it caught on the spinal column. They resumed the effort with the surreal accompaniment of Blake’s buttocks somehow exposed despite him lying flat on his back. The bone was deeply resistant and the sound could have been mistaken for the splitting of a tree branch, but at last they got through the spine (Karla admonishing caution at the end so they didn’t accidentally shred the bed.)
“Karla?” Adrian prompted.
Karla came around to the foot of the bed, seized one of Blake’s ankles, and yanked. The lower half came free with a last pop of bone and Blake’s knees hit the floor with his arms a good ten feet away. What little remained in his pelvic cavity spilled across the top of his waist into a wet pile as his legs slumped over. Snakes of intestinal rope in shades of mushroom and bruises glistened under the bedroom light, with an ivory island of bone from the spinal nub jutting through the mound of viscera.
Karla was going to need a new rug.
Adrian stepped over Blake’s legs to take hold of the camera and brought it over to the bed. Julie took hold of the hedge clippers again. Karla removed the shirt around Blake’s head and pulled the boxers from his mouth out like a magician yanking out a string of colored kerchiefs. Blake’s tongue lolled. His eyes were fixed on a faraway place.
Adrian got an optimal angle as Julie guided the blades to either side of Blake’s neck and clamped them. She repeated the cutting several times before the blades started to work deeper through the skin and muscle. There was less blood now that he was dead, but it still trickled out in steady streams as red grooves opened up to expose the muscle beneath, and more bubbled from his open mouth, dripping off his chin. She worked through the final inches of bone and the head slipped and rolled away from the neck. Adrian followed its descent to the ground. It bounced, the meat of the neck flinging droplets of blood like wet fingers.
“No, Blake, we’re not done yet,” Julie informed him. She picked his head up by the hair. It continued to leak from the neck, like a trash bag about to burst. The bed was a bloody shambles but she curled up in the crook of Blake’s arm and lifted her skirt. She was naked beneath. She didn’t mind the closeness of the camera this time. She centered Blake over the patch of her hair between her legs and, with her fingers, guided his tongue to her clit, sliding it up and down against her slickened sex.
They laughed as they watched this from the couch. The shape of Blake’s mouth changed as she guided him, but his eyes held that glassy stare.
“I feel like I should be jealous,” Adrian said. She rubbed Blake’s tongue faster, up and down, as she became more and more aroused.
“Oh, Blake,” she moaned as she neared climax onscreen.
“That is so hot,” Karla said. “Lot better than he ever did it with that head attached.”
“Yeah, it didn’t take much,” Julie said.
“He always licked it like he thought it might have lint or something.”
The ladies shared a knowing laugh.
“Niiiiiiiice, Adrian said. “I don’t think I want to know any more. Hey, we really should finish the clean-up.” There was a wad of ruined bed sheets and clothes to be incinerated. What remained of Blake lay stacked in the tub, and their hacksaw work had only just begun, speaking of things to be incinerated. They still had the other angle to enjoy and edit, too.
On screen, Julie said, “He was right. There was plenty of him to go around.”
They all laughed again, having forgotten about this gem at the time.
“Come on, one more time,” Julie said. “Blake’s not going anywhere, is he?”
Adrian looked down to see a hand fumbling with the button of his jeans. Karla’s.
“Come on,” she said. “We’ll make it worth your while.”
Julie tugged down his zipper.
“The bedroom’s still a wreck,” he said.
Karla pulled his jeans open. “No one said anything about the bedroom. We’ve got what we need here.”
“Rewind it,” Julie whispered in his ear.
He rewound, and in the glow of the threesome on the TV, another began.
Fair Trade
by
Jeff Strand
"If you're going to cheat on me," said Heather, "could you at least not post about it on Facebook?"
Nick just stood there in the open doorway. His palms immediately began to sweat, dampening the junk mail that was in his right hand. It had been a brutal day in the office, and he'd really been looking forward to a delicious home-cooked dinner and a couple hours of television, but that plan seemed to have changed.
He frowned, expressing confusion that was partially real and partially feigned. He certainly hadn't posted anything like "Thrusting away inside of Elizabeth," even though that's how he'd spent the previous evening. Maybe Heather was kiddin
g.
After they stared at each other for a few more moments, Nick decided that Heather was not kidding.
"Are you going to come in?" Heather asked.
Nick walked into the living room. The mail had stuck to his hand, so he peeled it off and set it on the coffee table.
"How about closing the door?"
"Oh. Right. Sorry." Nick went back to the door and pulled it closed. He was sweating like crazy, which was going to make it difficult to sell the lies he was prepared to tell.
Heather folded her arms across her chest. He'd seen her looking mad on a great many occasions during their eight years of marriage, but suspicions of infidelity made her look much angrier than when he forgot to take out the garbage.
She didn't speak. Nick wasn't sure what to say, so he went with the obvious: "I don't know what you're talking about?"
"Don't you?"
"No."
"Last night, at 6:32 PM, your status update was 'Stuck in the office. Will this meeting never end? BO-ring.'"
"Right. I was in a really boring meeting."
"It says you posted it from Lakewood."
"Oh." Nick had never developed a headache so quickly. "I didn't know that Facebook says where you posted from."
"It does if you do it from your cell phone."
"Oh."
"Elizabeth is in Lakewood, isn't she?"
"Yes."
Damn. He'd thought his alibi was pretty clever, but instead it had doomed him. If he had a few minutes, Nick thought that he could probably come up with some sort of credible explanation for why he was updating Facebook from Lakewood, but he didn't have a few minutes, so it was best to just confess.
"Did you sleep with her?"
"No."
"Why did I find a receipt for Trojans in your pocket when I was doing the laundry today?"
Jesus. He was really bad at this.
"What I meant was, we didn't sleep." Okay, that sounded much worse. "I mean...yes, we, uh, had sex. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"Why did you do it?"
"I don't know."