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Stumped

Page 4

by Dick Gear


  “Okay Allen! Have fun!” He calls after me as I get out of the car and head up the driveway on foot.

  When I reach the house, it’s bigger than I remember it. The thing is like four stories and stretches back away, so that it’s hard to tell just how many rooms or square footage there must be inside.

  There is only one car parked in the semi-circular driveway, and I recognize it from when I drove in it with Katarina the day she kidnapped me.

  There’s no way I’m going in the front door.

  Instead, I move through the woods near the house and circle around back. I try and peer into the windows but there’s just darkness. Finally, I see an open bulkhead that must lead into the basement. As I cross to go down the steps, I hear someone laughing and I nearly piss myself.

  I know that voice. I wouldn’t forget the sound of that voice if I lived a thousand years. Fucking Timmy.

  I grit my teeth.

  “Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah! Do her good! Do her gooooood!” I hear him say as I slowly creep down the bulkhead stairs. I peek into the basement and see that Timmy is putting on his boots and apron. The basement is large and filled with all kinds of torturous implements. Ropes, whips, straps, canes and knives align the walls, hang on hooks and pegs.

  There’s a large television monitor and clear as day I can see Tad boning Katarina.

  This must be a live feed from upstairs, which is how Timmy knew to come up and get me at just the right moment last time.

  Timmy’s eyes are glued to the screen as he puts on his right boot. “Oh, get her good, right there! Ha!” he shouts.

  Tad is onscreen, buck naked, fucking Katarina’s mouth like she’s one of those plastic sex dolls. He has her by the back of the head with his hands and is thrusting into her mouth so that she gags and looks to be having trouble breathing.

  I feel a surge of happiness at seeing him do this. I hope she fucking chokes on his dick, I think.

  But Timmy is getting prepared to interrupt Tad’s fun with his trusty meat cleaver.

  The giant picks it up and is about to start heading to the stairs when I jump from the stairs and swing my saw blade. Quicker than I would have imagined, Timmy must have heard or sensed something because he moves just as I arc the blade down to his throat and it catches his shoulder.

  Blood sprays across my face and Timmy cries out in pain.

  He falls to the floor and his cleaver flies out of his grip.

  “How you like it, you big fat fuck!” I shout. The feeling of joy is overwhelming.

  I glance up at the monitor and see Katarina trying to call for help from her maniacal butler, but having no luck. Tad jerks her head back around and starts cumming all over her shocked and horrified face.

  Timmy stares at me, for a moment he doesn’t move. “No!” he says.

  “Yes!” I reply, bringing my blade down in a stabbing motion. Timmy holds up his huge arm and it glances off his wrist. He shrieks in pain. This gives me an idea. I hack at his wrist three or four times. “You see how it feels to have your hands cut off motherfucker!”

  By the time I’m done, half his hand is on the floor and he’s blubbering. Blood is spurting in bursts across the room.

  “How you like that, Timmy?” I say. “Tell me!”

  “Please, please, no more!” he says. “It hurts.”

  “Damn straight it does.”

  I kick him two or three times in the face until his nose breaks. “Shit, I could get used to this.” But no. Timmy’s a mess and he can’t do much to me now. He’s lying in a pool of blood. He might even die soon.

  I bypass him and walk upstairs for the main course.

  When I reach the living room, Tad is pulling on his pants while Katarina tries to wipe his jizz off her face. She seems confused and shaken.

  “You like that, Granny? How’d my shit taste? Like fucking hot sauce, right?”

  Tad says. “I eat so many buffalo wings, girls tell me my shit tastes like damn hot sauce.”

  Katarina begins to sob.

  “Hey, come on, it aint that bad,” he says, pulling his shirt on over his head.

  Just then, I enter the room. “She’s crying because you were supposed to have had your balls cut off by now.”

  Both of them jump, startled. She screams. “Where is Timmy?”

  I laugh and hold up my saw blade wrapped stump. “I fucking chopped that little bitch up. He won’t be coming in to save your ass.”

  Tad stares at me. “Dude, are you insane?”

  “I told you to leave as soon as possible. What were you thinking going home with her?” I tell him. “This is the lady who kidnapped me you idiot!”

  He laughs. “Her? This old biddie?”

  She shakes her head. “Don’t listen to him,” she tells Tad, pointing at me. “He’s crazy. He was crazy when I fucked him months ago and he’s crazy now.”

  “If I’m so crazy, how did my hands get chopped off?” I say. I turn to Tad.

  “Come downstairs, I’ll show you their sick fucking dungeon.”

  Tad starts backing away with his hands up. “Dude, I don’t want no part of this shit. This one’s on you.” And then he’s running out the front door and down the driveway.

  I look at Katarina. “Well, what should I do with you, huh?”

  She stands up shakily. There’s some cum drying on her old wrinkled chin. “You shouldn’t have hurt Timmy. He’s like a child.”

  “Fuck you. Now I’m calling the shots.”

  Suddenly Katarina smiles at me. A strange, seductive smile. “We could have some fun, you and I. You could finish what your little friend started. I’ll let you have your way with me. A nice angry fuck.”

  I have to admit, I’m getting pretty chubbed up. It might be nice to go to town on her and then just leave her to deal with that mess downstairs. But no. It’s not right.

  I’ve still got Nadine. I can make things right with her, go back and apologize. I don’t need this wacked out shit.

  I shake my head. “Sorry grams. You’re too old for me. I got a nice sweet young thang back in town. So, fuck this noise. I think I’ll call the cops on you. See what they can dig up in this place. Probably a whole bunch of skeletons and shit buried in your back yard.”

  Katarina backs to the couch and sits heavily on it. Her old lady stockings sag around vein ridden ankles. “Just go then. I don’t care anymore. But you’re missing out, Allen. I can teach you so much.”

  “Nothing I want to learn though.”

  “I’d like to learn.” The voice is familiar but somehow not familiar at the same time.

  I spin around and see Eddie coming out of the basement. He looks…different.

  And he’s holding a gun.

  “Eddie, I told you to wait for me outside, man.”

  “I know, but I was curious.” He shrugs.

  “Why don’t you sound…”

  “Retarded?”

  “Ummm…yeah. You sound totally different.”

  Eddie grins. “I’m not fucking retarded, I just pretended to be to get that cake job I’ve got. How many retards do you know drive their own vans and shit?”

  “Oh fuck.” I feel dizzy.

  Eddie looks at Katarina. “Some setup you got here, ma’am. You looking for some young male help?”

  She grins. “Absolutely.”

  “Eddie—“ I say.

  He points the gun at me. “Shut it, Allen. I’ve had enough of rubbing your damn stumps and being told what to do.”

  “Hey, I treated you pretty fucking good.”

  “Oh well. Thanks but that’s old news. I work for someone else now.”

  Katarina smiles brightly. “I do have need of some assistance at the moment. A little pest I need you to take care of, honey.”

  Eddie cocks the gun now and aims at my head.

  “Don’t kill him,” she says softly. “I need him. Safe. With me. In the bedroom.”

  I grit my teeth. Here we go again.

  IF YOU ENJOYED STUMPED, CHECK OUT WHORED
(BOOK 2 OF

  THE SICK FUCK CHRONICLES) AVAILABLE NOW ON AMAZON

  AND BARNES AND NOBLE!

 

 

 


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