Sick Bastards
Page 17
It was as though talking about it with the people who went through the same experience helped to cleanse our souls and temporarily rid ourselves from any demons who were lingering in our minds. Not sure why it worked like that - it just did.
It also meant we could continue seeing each other.
Some of the worst times of my life had been with these three strangers, who I still considered family, and yet some of the best times of my life had been with them too. Today was one of them as I lay back on my large, comfortable bed with both Carmen and Kelly working the shaft of my penis. One with her mouth and the other with her tongue and hand.
I couldn’t have been happier when I received the text from Brian saying he wasn’t going to make it today but he hoped that we’d have a good ‘meet’. As soon as I read the text to the girls, I instantly knew what it meant.
Kelly, still expertly using her tongue on my scrotum, re-positioned herself until she was sitting on my face. I couldn’t help but remember the first time she did this. The day I believed her to be my real mother. When she sat on my face then, grinding her cunt against my mouth, I felt sick to my stomach as her juices smeared over my face. Now it’s different though. Now I can’t get enough of her taste and actively try and pull her down upon my face by holding her by the waist and pushing downwards. Even if she wants to get off - she’d have to struggle against my grip - not that she ever did.
I pulled my tongue out of her sweet tasting pussy and pulled myself up the bed a little so that I could lick at her arse-hole. Not something I had ever done before - that I could remember - and not sure why I felt the urge to do it this time but, as soon as I pushed in with my tongue, I knew it had been a shrewd move and - within seconds - I felt the familiar and pleasant tingling of an orgasm brewing.
I pulled out and muffled through with, “I’m going to cum!” and with that I did. The most powerful orgasm I had felt for as long as I could remember shot from me. Carmen - good girl that she is - caught it all in her mouth and must have expertly swallowed for I didn’t feel any of it splash anywhere on my naked body.
Kelly moved from my face, as soon as my hands fell dead to the side of my body. She stopped licking at my testicles and started to passionately kiss Carmen on the mouth. I couldn’t help but watch with fascination as they swapped my semen from one mouth to the other - both girls seemingly unable to get enough of it.
I hope they don’t want to kiss me afterwards.
Both girls moved away from my body, giving me room to move and sit up. Kelly lay on her back as Carmen kissed her way down her body until her face was buried between Kelly’s easily spread legs. Kelly sighed with pleasure as Carmen began to flick her tongue against her clitoris.
I’d have loved to have stayed and watched but I couldn’t. Not whilst dinner was cooking slowly in the oven. It had already been in there for about four hours and I was sure it would be almost ready. I jumped off the bed and walked through my small flat until I got to the kitchen.
I stepped over part of the body of the new postman who had been knocking on my door with a parcel earlier that day and opened the door to the oven. Inside was the rest of the postman. The aroma that spilled from within made my senses dance and mouth water.
Kelly was screaming through the flat with a body-shuddering orgasm and I couldn’t help but think she’d be doing the same again later when her mouth wraps around this piece of succulent meat.
The size of the postman - I just knew he’d make for a tasty meal.
I closed the oven door. Another ten minutes or so, I reckon.
Long enough to give Carmen the orgasm she is owed.
I walked back through to the bedroom. Kelly’s face was already between Carmen’s legs, Carmen’s hands holding her head in place. She was grinding against her. Carmen is clearly being taken care of and I couldn’t help but stare at Kelly’s naked ass sticking up in the air.
I licked my lips and moved in for a closer taste.
PART TWENTY-ONE
Now
My Family
I opened the car door and threw up onto the road outside. I paused a moment, unsure of whether more sick was to follow. Only when I was completely satisfied there was no more did I close the door again. I sat up in the driver’s seat. I didn’t know what the future was going to hold for us but the one my mind painted...It proved to me that there isn’t a place in society for people like us. Not now. The government made sure of that.
Besides - my idea of a future may be different to how Father, Mother and Sister would picture it, if they were to get back to the real world. If they knew the truth of what happened to us, they may not want to see each other again. They may even have the strength to kill themselves.
Given the dark path they took in the house though, I’m sure they wouldn’t. I’m sure they’d carry on living just as they are now. Unable to break the evil habits. Unable to fit back into a normal society.
For all of us - the damage is done and it’s only now that I realise what needs to be done. There is only one way we’re going to be going back now. I’m not even sad about it either. If anything, I want it. Because it is for the best.
I slipped the car into first gear again and resumed the journey down the winding road with thoughts ranging from a corrupt future, in the real world, to the taste of flesh and the feeling of being inside sister. The most prominent thought, though, being what I was going to tell my family and how they would receive me, given Father’s feelings towards me as I left the house.
It wasn’t long before the house came into my line of sight. Nestled there, in a small opening, surrounded by trees either side of it. It looked so picturesque there. The perfect country escape. The perfect hideout. My heart beat faster at the anticipation of seeing my family once more; excitement and fear (still worrying about Father’s reaction to what I have to say to him).
I beeped the horn as the car rolled to a stop outside of the home. I could see Father standing in the dining room window - watching out. He didn’t look pleased to see me. He mouthed something, though I’m not sure what. I was thankful when Mother and Sister appeared at the window, next to him. Thankful to see them and thankful he hadn’t killed either of them yet because he was feeling peckish.
Sister disappeared from sight. Seconds later the front door opened and she came running down towards the car with a grin on her face and her arms outstretched. Father was shouting for her, to turn around no doubt, but she didn’t hear him just as I didn’t either.
I climbed from the car and welcomed Sister’s embrace.
“I was so worried about you!” she exclaimed as we hugged. I smiled. “What happened? Whose is the car? How far did you get? What did you see?” So many questions.
“I need to speak to Father,” I told her.
She didn’t need to go and get Father. He was already standing in the doorway, looking down to where I was standing next to ‘my’ car.
“Well, well...Look who it is.”
The thoughts I had, as I was driving home, on how best to fix this flashed through my mind again; I realise what needs to be done. There is only one way we’re going to be going back now. I’m not even sad about it either. If anything, I want it. Because it is for the best.
And the way back to normal starts with an apology.
“I’m sorry!” I told him.
He took a step back, clearly shocked by what I said.
“What?”
“You’re right, Father; you were always right and I should have listened to you. I’m sorry that I didn’t. I’m sorry that I turned my back on you, Mother and Sister. It was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”
Mother appeared at the doorway too, a smile on her face as she heard what I said. Sister was smiling too. The only one who wasn’t smiling was Father.
“There’s nothing out there, Father...” I continued. And I meant it too. There is nothing out there. Not for us. I realised it as I was driving back to them with the truth of what happened. Even if they believed me - where w
ould they go? Where would we go? We’re monsters now and there’d be no room for beasts such as us out there. Not in the real world. There is nothing out there. Nothing at all. And if it weren’t for each other, we’d be alone. “I found a camp but it was destroyed. Bodies everywhere. There’s nothing out there but carnage and chaos. Please - let me come home...Let me back into the family.” I was practically begging.
Father still wasn’t saying anything. He looked to Sister. He looked to Mother. They both seemed pleased to see me. They both seemed to want me back in their lives. Both of them accepting of my apology. Father looked to me. Without a word he simply nodded and stepped to the side, keeping the door held open with his hand. Sister gave a little jump for joy and ran on into the house, ahead of me. I smiled and turned back to the road from where I’d just come...
...There’s nothing out there for us.
I turned back to Father and nodded a thank you in his direction.
This is where people like us belong. Tucked out of the way from the real world where we can do minimum harm and, more importantly to us, where we can live in ignorant bliss from the heavy guilt of what we had done to survive. What we had become. The journey here made me realise that ignorance was indeed bliss. I didn’t want to see their faces, even after what they had become, when they realised it was all for nothing. I struggled with it enough myself. I couldn’t inflict that on anyone else. Especially Sister. I only hope that, when I start drinking the water once more, I’ll soon start forgetting the truths I’d discovered.
I’m not sure how this story ends. The government might continue running the experiment from beyond the wall, as soon as they send more people in to run the camp, or they may send in armies to terminate the program. There’s a good chance they could simply turn their back on us too - knowing that everything this side of the wall will eventually starve to death as no more prisoners will be coming by. And then, of course, there’s the chance that Father’s smile is nothing more than a smoke screen to his true intentions and tonight, the night I go to lay with my sister, will be my last for I could wake, exhausted, bound to the dining room table. Father’s knife at my throat.
I stepped into the house and joined my family.
Father closed the door.
The End
Author’s Notes
I suppose I should start with an apology really. I understand that the story you just read is sick. I appreciate that and sort of expect some flak for it (on some levels) too. Just believe me when I say that not all of my stories are as dark and twisted (gory or incestious) as the piece you’ve just read (if indeed you managed to read it all the way through to this point).
Know this too...
It wasn’t my fault.
I was never going to write this story. I have a long list of ideas and stories that I need to get written down before I am put into my wooden box and buried under the earth and “Sick Bastards” was not amongst the list.
So how did it come to be written?
Simple.
Ladies and gentleman, I present to you Graeme Reynolds of Horrific Tales Publishing. Graeme and I are acquantiances on Facebook and (dare I say it) friends too. At least I regard him as a friend. For all I know, he hates me. It’s nothing something we’ve actually discussed.
Anyway, if you’re on my author page on Facebook, you’re most likely aware that Graeme and I are working together on a new novel (due out in 2014) called “ART”, a story I wrote with the talented author Michael Bray.
ART is a dark tale, there is no doubt about that, but it isn’t what I would call truly horrific (like this title) but it does indeed have its moments. One evening I was chatting to Graeme on Facebook (as you do) and he signed off saying he was going to go and read more from sick bastards (myself and Bray). He actually meant he was going off to finish reading ART but my brain took it in a whole new direction. I just sat there, at my desk, thinking he hadn’t seen anything yet and if he wanted sick bastards - well, I’d be the guy to give it to him.
Having just finished ART and being between projects, I immediately penned the opening to this story (the opening that you guys read two hundred and forty odd pages ago as it remained unchanged). I just wanted to make it sick (proper sick) and to make him realise that the work he was currently reading was nowhere near as dark as I could take things. Well I think I did it well. The opening pages including sex (incestuous at that), a hint of blasphemy and - of course - cannibalism. I sent it off with a smile on my face and even posted it onto my author page.
To my surprise my readers seemed to lap it up and even wanted more.
Well - who was I to argue?
By the following morning I had the plot in my head and so many twists as to what was actually happening that I immediately began work on the full piece and it turned into my next serious project. Not bad considering it started off as a joke. More surprisingly - it is also my longest piece of fiction that I’ve written on my own!
All because of Graeme Reynolds.
Anyway - I won’t tell you where my dark thoughts came from (for this piece), just trust me when I say that I haven’t actually slept with any of my family members and I almost definitely haven’t eaten a person in real life. At least, not that I am aware of.
I hope you enjoyed the story (is ‘enjoyed’ the right word?) and that you aren’t put off from supporting my work! Until the next time - take care!
Kind Regards,
Matt Shaw
FROM THE SAME AUTHOR
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