by C. V. Hunt
I debated approaching Lloyd for assistance once I arrived home with the machine. I sat in the car and stared at his cabin but my ego wouldn’t allow me to admit to another man I was weak. But honestly, I didn’t want to talk to him because he’d creeped me out during the little interaction we’d had.
I managed to wrestle the sander out of the car by myself and knew once I was finished with the day’s work I was going to be sore. I carried the sander from the car to the top of the stairs before setting it down and taking a short break. I stopped every couple of stairs and tried not to rest too long between moving the machine. I wouldn’t allow fatigue to set in and pushed myself until I’d carried the damn thing all the way down to the door.
Once I was in the house with the sander I drank a glass of water and looked at the furniture. I partly regretted not holding off buying furniture until after the floors were finished but I was too old to sleep on the floor for more than a day or two. I wished I’d had enough money to rent the sander for a couple of days but my bank account told me it wasn’t an option. The sales of my photographs were steady enough to provide for myself. Most of the population lived paycheck to paycheck and were paid a steady amount on a weekly or bi-weekly basis. I lived from day to day and never knew when I would get paid next or when interest in my work would come to a screeching halt.
I mustered up the energy and pushed my physical endurance by moving all of the furniture out the back door and onto the covered deck. I reconstructed the bed, knowing I would have to sleep on the deck for a couple of days. I’d already debated doing the floor in two halves but the weather was hot during the day and cool at night. I hadn’t noticed too many mosquitoes as of yet and could always sleep with a blanket over my head to ward off the pesky blood suckers if they decided to make a feast out of me. Besides, I didn’t want a four day project to turn into eight and be without access to the restroom and kitchen during the day for the same amount of time.
Once the furniture was moved I promptly sanded the floors, wrestled the sander back up the stairs and into the trunk, cleaned the floors to make sure every speck of dust was gone, and took a steaming hot shower to ease my already aching body. I knew once I woke up tomorrow I would feel like I’d been hit by a truck.
I inspected the newly formed scars on my chest in the mirror once I was out of the shower. Most of the scabs had fallen off. The cuts healed into a pink design of scarred flesh. I touched the tender skin and inspected my now reasonable looking beard. I had to put the unusual incident of self-mutilation out of my head and knew I would have to fabricate a story to explain the scar once I was in another relationship.
The day had grown into darkness by the time I was done with my shower. I made a mental list as I dressed in a fresh set of clothes. I tried to think of what food items I could keep on the deck for the next few days. Using the woods as a toilet wasn’t ideal but would be necessary and remembering a roll of toilet tissue was top priority before I started on the floor. The polyurethane took twenty-four hours to dry in between coats and the floors would need three coats. I would only have access to the bathroom and kitchen once a day after each coat dried and before applying the next. I deliberated applying the first layer before turning in but I was too exhausted. I would wait until tomorrow and afterward I would return the sander to kill some time.
I took a couple of Tylenol and sat on the deck and drank a couple of beers while checking and responding to emails. I contemplated masturbating after mindlessly clicking over to a porn site but my body felt like Jell-O from the physical exertion of the day. Instead I drank my beer and watched an entire video of a waifish girl with long brunette hair being strapped onto an unusually short table by two men. The table had two braces to keep her legs spread and her head hung over the table so she viewed everything upside down. One of the men inserted a type of gag into the girl’s mouth that fastened behind her head. The gag wasn’t a normal ball gag. It was fashioned with two metal brackets that held the girl’s mouth open as if she were a patient being prepped for dental surgery. One of the men disrobed and began fucking her cunt while the other man held the back of the girl’s head and fucked her mouth. The man screwing her mouth pinched the nipples of her small breasts hard while he fucked her. She gagged constantly and her slobber ran from her mouth in long ropey streams toward the floor. At one point the men switched. The man who’d previously fucked her pussy had a larger penis than the first and he didn’t waste any time jackhammering the girl’s mouth while gripping both sides of her head to keep her steady. The girl’s whole body convulsed and her stomach muscles clenched as she gagged. The man screwing her cunt proclaimed her pussy felt good as it tightened around his cock when she gagged. The man screwing her vaginally finally withdrew his penis, jerked off on her stomach, and disappeared from the frame. The other man continued to fuck the girl’s mouth relentlessly. She made sounds of protest. Even if there were a safe word the girl was unable to speak it. The man who’d already came reappeared within the frame of the video with a massive dildo the size of his forearm. Without ceremony he drove the dildo into the girl’s pussy and began vigorously fucking her with it. The man fucking the girl’s mouth suddenly withdrew his penis and the camera closed in on him masturbating furiously in front of the girl’s tear, snot, and saliva streaked face. There was a terrified look in the girl’s eyes as she gasped for air through her stretched mouth. The man finally ejaculated. The first spurt hit the girl in the chin and started to run down toward her mouth. The man moved in closer and the second wave of semen landed directly in the girl’s mouth. The third squirt landed in her mouth but trailed down her cheek and mingled with her drool and snot. The man’s penis emitted a couple more pumps that only ran over the head of his cock and onto his hand.
I watched the entire video in fascination at the girl’s ability to submit to being nothing more than a lump of flesh with two holes meant as a means of fulfillment for someone else. At the end the video the girl was unstrapped, given a towel to clean up, and the video cut to an after interview of the girl describing how she found the whole episode sexually pleasing because in her mind pleasure and pain went hand in hand.
I closed my laptop and finished the last swallow of my beer. I was painfully horny and regretted watching the porno. My arms were sore and I was too exhausted to jerk off but I knew I would anyway. And I wasn’t sure if I was more aroused from watching the porno or from the girl’s nonchalant addition at the end about getting off sexually from pain. When I thought back to the cutting incident I knew the feeling of pain was part of what turned me on.
The woods beyond the light of the deck were completely enveloped in the blackness of night. I stood and approached the railing, feeling every ounce of the alcohol I’d consumed and the loose ache of my muscles. I checked the night sky and didn’t see the moon and wondered if it was a new moon or beyond the roof of the cabin and out of my line of sight. I unfastened my shorts, slid my hand into my underwear, and slowly started stoking myself. I pushed my underwear down far enough to expose my cock and balls. My shorts fell around my ankles. I was unsteady from the beer and held the railing with one hand while masturbating with the other. I closed my eyes and pictured Tryphena’s face in place of the girl’s in the video. I pictured my dick as the one fucking her mouth with the same pace as my stroking. And then I pictured the scar on her throat. I replaced the image of fucking her mouth with one of me slitting her throat where her scar was and forcing my cock into her esophagus through the cut and fucking her blood-spurting neck. The imagery sent me over quickly.
I let out an involuntary yelp when I came.
The orgasm was intense and almost painful. My legs threatened to give out and I clung to the railing firmly. I opened my eyes to see the second shot of semen arch over the railing and into the darkness of the night. And much like the man in the video, the last of my orgasm spilled over my hand. I let go of my penis and held the railing with both hands as I regained my composure.
I was stunned by the spon
taneous imagery I’d conjured in the fantasy. The fact I was able to think of such a thing was repulsive and made me feel shameful.
I took a couple of deep breaths and stared at the thin line of semen as it stretched from the tip of my withering dick and made its way to the deck. I tucked my penis back into my underwear and wiped my hand off on the inside of my underwear. I pulled my shorts back up and a tiny light in the darkness of the woods caught my attention. I peered over the railing and it took me a few seconds to register there were two lights and the lights were the reflection of the porch light off animal eyes. The set of eyes was close to the cabin and appeared enormous. I couldn’t be sure, but from my viewpoint the animal appeared tall. I didn’t know if it was a trick of the light or my inebriated state but it appeared taller than a person. Its entire body was enveloped in the darkness and I couldn’t make out a silhouette. I hoped it was a deer but worried it might be a bear. And then suddenly the lighted eyes were gone. Blinked out. I listened carefully for the scuttling of an animal and figured I would be able to identify it by its gait. I heard nothing. Only the trill of a few insects.
I decided it might be best for me to sleep with one of the kitchen knives. Just in case.
11
The first night I slept on the deck without incident. I was too exhausted and probably would have slept through a bear eating me. I woke up stiff and sore from head to toe but I pushed myself to make breakfast and apply the first coat of polyurethane to the floor.
After the first coat was applied I returned the floor sander and spent the rest of the day in town. I found the library and theater and wasted time at both before eating a late supper. I stopped and bought a small cooler, ice, and beer before heading home.
I spent the evening on the deck checking messages and looking up videos of how to remove the kitchen cabinets and replace them. I would need help getting them up the stairs and into the cabin. Especially the countertop. I sent Phillip an email asking if he could come out and help me when he had a free day.
Two emails appeared in my inbox for photograph orders, which boosted my mood. I had to rearrange the crowded deck to get to the photos and packaged them for shipment.
A few bugs began to bother me as they fluttered around the light by the door. Once I didn’t need the light for assistance I figured it would be best to shut it off so I wouldn’t be eaten by whatever winged creatures it attracted. I drank a few beers in the darkness and was accompanied by my thoughts and the sounds of the night insects. Eventually I grew tried and turned in.
My dreams were chaotic and unintelligible. In the night something smacked my face and began lightly stroking my cheek. The sensation was scratchy and I woke in a panic. I flailed and yelped, searching for the knife. It took a few seconds of thrashing about and trying to produce the knife before I came to my senses and abandoned the bed. I opened the back door and flipped on the outside light and prepared to fight whatever had attacked me with my bare hands. I squinted against the sudden brightness and faced my attacker. A black shiny object the size of my thumb crawled across my pillow. I hesitantly stepped closer to inspect the largest beetle I’d ever laid eyes on. It had enormous pinchers and appeared prehistoric. The bug suddenly took flight. It flew directly into the side of the cabin and produced a sound like snapping plastic and fell to the deck. It landed on its back and buzzed furiously as it fluttered its wings and tried to right itself.
“Jesus,” I said.
My heart raced with the sudden jolt from sleep to the fear my life was in danger. I found a pen and flicked the beetle off the edge of the deck. I waited a couple of minutes for the bug to come flying back with a vengeance, like an angered bee, before I deemed it safe enough to urinate over the railing. My bladder was threatening to burst when I decided the coast was clear. Urine pattered on the ground below. Halfway through urinating a sound in the distance provoked me to worry the beetle would return, land on my dick, and pinch me. I tried to hurry.
As I finished the sound came again in the distance. I thought it sounded like a long drawn out whine from an animal. But then it became erratic and it took a couple of minutes to realize it was coming from the front side of the cabin. I checked the time on my cellphone. It was a couple of minutes after three A.M. A single bar of reception on my phone disappeared and a small notification box popped up on the screen informing me I didn’t have a signal.
I shut the light off for the deck and waited a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. The noise came in infrequent intervals and varied in intensity. Once I was able to make out the shadows of the furniture I slipped on my shoes—making sure to shake them in case some insect decided to make them its new home—and I walked around the side of the cabin and toward the front. The noise came again as I carefully climbed the stairs to the drive.
At the top of the stairs I stared at Lloyd’s cabin and tried to put together why his lights would flicker irregularly. He had lacey white curtains and the light made them glow a soft yellow-orange. It dawned on me if his cabin had a similar layout to mine and he also had a fireplace he may have his lit. Maybe the reason Lloyd didn’t get firewood delivered was because he cut his own. But the night was fairly warm and I couldn’t see why anyone would waste the time or resources lighting a fire. I could only imagine the heat it would produce would be stifling. While staring at his house and contemplating the dancing lights in Lloyd’s window the sound came again. It was definitely coming from his cabin. At this distance it no longer sounded like an animal but a woman’s wail.
An uneasy sensation ran down my spine and goosebumps rose on my arms. I looked up at the night sky. The moon was half full and there were no clouds. I don’t know what compelled me but I began to make my way toward his cabin. Whatever was happening inside was none of my business. And, if I had to admit it, I was afraid of Lloyd. The last thing I wanted was for him to catch me lurking around his place. He struck me as a man who owned a shotgun and would be happy to find someone trespassing on his property so he could shoot them first and ask questions later. But I had to know what the noise was. And a force I’d never experienced before scratched the word ‘destiny’ into the synapses of my brain and terrified me. The same force pulled me toward Lloyd’s and told me I had to see for myself.
I used the scant moonlight to find my way along the drive, sticking to the grassy area along the side to avoid disturbing the gravel and making noise. Once I was close I tiptoed across the gravel drive to approach the cabin. I stopped at the base of the stairs, breathing through my mouth. I was terrified Lloyd would throw open the door any second and train a shotgun on my face. The terror and the compulsion to know more melded into a feeling with no words to describe it. My heart hammered and a bead of sweat slid down my spine and I struggled with the urge to shake like a wet dog.
The wailing sounded again and startled me. The skin on the back of my neck prickled. It was unmistakably the girl and I couldn’t be sure if she was crying out in pain or in pleasure. All I was certain of was the wail was sexual in nature. I knew I couldn’t climb the steps or cross the wooden porch floor without the sound of the wooden floorboards giving me away. The flickering lights became still for the briefest moment before beginning their dance again.
I made my way slowly and quietly around to the side of the cabin. The slope of the ground made it impossible for me to look into the first window because it was above my head. But at this proximity there was the distinct and unmistakable muffled sound of flesh making contact with flesh.
I didn’t want to look but knew I had to see. I had to know. I made my way to the next window at the back of the cabin. If the cabin was like mine it would have an open floor plan with only the bathroom segregated from the rest. The light emanating from the second window was dimmer than the front of the cabin. I was crouched to keep my head below the frame of the window. I couldn’t hear the fleshy sounds anymore but Lloyd said something gruff and the girl moaned.
A part of me wanted to go back to my cabin and put all of
this out of my head and pretend nothing was happening here and I hadn’t heard anything and I hadn’t had two different people inform me there was possibly something very wrong and sick happening here. But another part of me, an urgent part, guided me along. It was the same compulsion I felt when I was thirteen and Phillip was supposed to be keeping an eye on me and his girlfriend at the time, Suzy, came over and he told me to stay inside and he’d be back in a minute. I watched out the kitchen window as the two of them snuck inside the makeshift storage shed that looked more like a tree house in the backyard of the house Mom was renting at the time. I waited a few minutes before quietly sneaking out of the house and peeking in one of the grimy windows on the side of the shed and watched as the two made out. Phillip unbuttoned the girl’s shirt and unfastened her bra that clipped in the front and exposed her breasts. I knew I shouldn’t have intruded on my own brother but I couldn’t help but stare at the girl’s beasts. And once Mom’s car pulled in the driveway I was forced to run inside the house and pretend I’d been in my room reading. The same thing was compelling me to see what was happening now. It wasn’t breasts this time though. I could see all the breasts I wanted now with the click of a mouse. This was about confirming or abolishing gossip and rumors I’d heard and classifying them into fact or fiction categories and being done with it.
Slowly, I peeked over the window sill. The lacey curtain slightly obscured the scene within but I made out the shapes of two figures near the center of the cabin. I refocused my vision through a small hole in the lace curtain and could see what was happening more clearly. The cabin was an open design like mine. I was peering in through the bedroom area, which held one double bed, and the bath was on the opposite wall from where I was. The kitchen and living area were toward the front of the place and the cabin was scantily furnished. The flickering light did not come from a fireplace but from two oil lamps, one on the kitchen table and the other on the mantel of the fireplace. I couldn’t be sure if there were any other light fixtures because my focus was drawn to the activity in the center of the cabin.