My Diary
By Mason Fox
A Heart of Stone Novel
By
D H Sidebottom
Mason DOB: 20.8.1979
My Diary
By Mason Fox
A Heart of Stone Novel
By
D H Sidebottom
Copyright © 2015
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual places, incidents and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 D H Sidebottom. Please do not copy, alter or redistribute this book.
Excerpt from Dove, Copyright © 2015 D H Sidebottom.
Please secure author’s permission before sharing any extracts of this book.
Table of contents
Table of contents
Author’s note
Dedication
Age 14
Age 17
Age 18
Age 19
Aged 20
Aged 25
Aged 26
Aged 31
Dove
Sometimes, love is just that little bit too unexpected
Author’s note
I, Dawn Heather Sidebottom, creator of Mason Fox, take no responsibility for Mason’s behaviour, actions or brutality in this narrative of Mason’s life.
Dedication
For the ‘other woman’ in Mason’s life, Vickie Leaf.
We both know that one day your wish will come true and Ava will ‘curiously’ go missing. And who else would Mason ever cope with to take her place?
One day you will make lots of babies with Mr Fox and he will worship the very ground you walk on.
Well, you can dream …
Love you, Vic.
Thank you for being you.
♡
Age 14
21st August 1993
They were at it again today. Arguing. His voice grates on my every nerve, hers makes my ear drums squeal. What the hell is it with my mother? Why does she put up with his sick and twisted demands just in the name of marriage?
Marriage – what a fucking farce. Why the hell would you want to spend the rest of your life with one person? Christ, that’s a scary thought.
Saying that, my father doesn’t stick to one woman, never has. Although his latest freaky demand still makes my skin crawl. I know most of my mates think he’s cool, and are jealous that my dad is who he is, but fuck, why I’d wanna watch his dick slip into a whore is beyond me.
I just stared at him yesterday when he’d told me to follow him into his ‘office’. ‘Office’ – that’s a laugh, it’s a fucking building down the garden where he deals with ‘business’. A square concrete structure that contains washable floors that are easily bleached to remove ‘evidence’ and a wrought iron bed placed to one side of the room. Chains and ropes dangle from the ceiling above it. But it’s an upgrade from the wooden shed he used to have.
He said I was old enough now I am 14 and ‘man’ enough to see what men should be about. ‘Men’ – that’s a fucking laugh. He’s not a man, he’s a fucking sick bastard.
What ‘normal’ 14 year old is made to stand and watch his father tie up a young girl? Strip her naked, spit on her, degrade her? My sick eyes had dropped to watch his cock slide into the ass of a woman who obviously enjoyed being degraded and fucked by someone who doesn’t give a fucking damn whether she’s enjoying it or not?
My treacherous cock had enjoyed it though, but my stomach had twisted at the thought that watching my dad fuck had turned me on. Shit, did that make me a perv?
Shit! I’m fucking gagging again now.
I’m off for a shower, see if I can scrub the whore’s scent off me. What the fuck had I been thinking? But I’d been too fucking horny that I couldn’t resist when my father had pulled out of her, passed me a condom, said ‘Happy birthday’ and told me it was time I lost my virginity.
I’m as repulsive as he is!
Fuck! FUCK!
~~~
Oh the joy! Just found out my parents have organised a week away with the Delaney’s. The only consolation is Bec. I know she has a crush on me but we have fun and she makes me laugh, also gives me the opportunity to disappear from the adults. I’m sure they party somewhat differently than normal couples. Robert, Bec’s dad, is a weird freak as well, gives me the creeps.
I’ll take her fishing. Bec’s sweet, but after last night, I know I’ll never be content with ‘sweet’. That thought is one I don’t like. It feels like I’ve caught a bug. Fucking that girl, watching her bend and writhe beneath me, how my dick drove her to cum all over me, it made me feel – fuck, I can’t describe it. The pleasure when I shot my load, fuck! Crazy! My whole body had fucking trembled, pain and pleasure mixing together. The bitch had been crazy, taking my hand and curling my fingers into her hair as she had directed me, teaching me what she liked. I can’t quite understand how hurting her made her cum, surely the strength at which I’d yanked on her hair before I came would have been agonising. Yet, she’d screamed, shouting “yes, yes,” and telling me exactly how much she enjoyed what I was doing to her.
She’d told me to spank her arse. Just – I dunno, doesn’t make sense.
Anyway, I’ll be off for a week, daren’t risk taking my diary with me, my mother will probably find it and shit, that’s the last thing I need.
See you in a week!
30th August 1993
Fuck! Again! Why can’t I resist my father’s demands? What if I’m turning into him, a disease he’s passed down in his genes? I refuse to do this anymore. I’m not him! And I won’t allow him to mould me into his image.
The whore was as dirty as the first one. Wanted me in her arse. Shit, I’m 14! This shouldn’t be my life. I had gotten angry this time, shouted at him. I should have expected the backhander off him, really. I mean, that’s what he does best!
The girl had just stared at us as though bored. I’d felt ashamed, embarrassed when she’d witnessed my inability to stand up to him. What the hell she must have thought. Although she didn’t say much as she sat on the bed, then slid her legs wide open to taunt me.
I must admit, a woman’s body is quite stunning. The way it was created to pleasure a man is simply astounding. Pure perfection.
Her tits had been gorgeous, firm and large, the bounce of them when I had watched her straddle and fuck me had mesmerised me. I’d lifted my hands, cupping them, squeezing them when she had placed her fingers over mine and manipulated my caress. Her nipples had hardened under my skin, pushing into my sweaty hands. The pleasure on her face, pleasure I was creating, made me feel huge, great actually. I was doing that to her, making her body hum, making her moan and groan as she had taken what I gave her.
At least my father had left us this time. The fact that he likes to watch makes me uneasy, it’s not right.
On the plus though, he took me to the shooting range. Shit. The feel of heavy steel in your hands calms the race of blood. It’s weird, something that can kill someone is under the touch of your finger, the decision to pull the trigger yours.
He’s promised to take me some more so I suppose he’s trying with me. He just tries with the wrong things. Does he not realise that to win me over that all I need is normal, really. Especially for Kerrie. The way she tries so hard to gain his attention upsets me, she loves him so much – God knows why but he rebuffs her attention time and time again, the prick.
And my mother is just the same. She’s more interested in reaching the bottom of a bottle than she is her own daughter. She’s 12, she’s at the age where she needs some direction in life. Maybe I could ask Dane’s mum to have ‘the girly talk’. To be honest, I’m
not sure I could, I’m no good with shit like that.
7 September 1993
I hit the centre of the target 6 times! I’m a natural, Frank, my personal trainer, tells me. It’s just something that I feel good at, whether or not the bullet hits the target is down to my own skill.
I do wonder what it would be like to hit flesh instead of a cardboard cut-out though. Would it sound different? Would it make a difference short or long range? And would the blood splatter or just seep from the wound?
I’ve become a little obsessed by it, I even went to the library to look it up – I know, me in a library. But saying that, the girl who works there is shit hot, she looks about eighteen and has the firmest tits I’ve ever seen. Her arse is pretty fine too. And of course she smiled at me. I wonder if she would if she found out I’m only 14? I’d say I already look 17 or even 18, I can get into the nightclub in town no problem. Maybe I’ll ask her out, make it my next goal. Maybe I’ll fuck her, she looks the sort who wouldn’t say no, that skirt she was wearing today, I could almost see her fucking knickers.
I would push her up against one of the shelves, slide that little skirt up past her thighs. She’d be wearing black lace, her cunt wetting that silk through. Maybe I would drop to my knees and bury my face between her legs, stroke my tongue over her until she’s pressing that little pussy harder onto my tongue, begging me to make her come. And that outcome would be entirely up to me. That’s what makes my cock hard, that I’m the one that decides if I let her come or not.
Maybe I wouldn’t let her. I’d back off, order her to turn around and slide a finger in her arse while my cock sinks deep inside that tight pussy. She’d grip me like a fucking vice. Her hands would be clung to the shelf to support her while I ram her like a God damned man possessed. I’d rip off her knickers and shove them in her mouth so no one could hear her screams of pleasure.
Shit. Now I’m so hard I need to jerk myself off. And I’m doing that shit with my left hand while I still write in this stupid fucking book. How sad am I?
Age 17
12th November 1996
That fucking cunt that Kerrie was seeing. He’s now sucking his lunch through a fucking straw. I knew he was trouble when she started seeing him, she’s 15 for fucks sake, why he thought she’d be easy, and why the fuck he took what he wanted from her when he knows I’d rip his God damn motherfucking cock off is beyond me.
I don’t mind doing time for doing him. Thinks he’s a hard bastard but instead of coming for me when he can walk again, he sent the fucking cops. What a pussy! Get the filth to do his job. And now there’s plenty after him when he gets out of hospital for being a grass. Win/win for me really.
Dane’s promised to make sure that every fucker knows who did Jimmy Hampton though. There’s many would like to have kicked the shit out of him but he’s well known round here, so of course no twat would touch him, scared of who his father is. Well I’m not!
I want an in with Martin Steward (he runs the London criminal scene), and it looks like I’ve caught his attention now. He’s been after Jimmy for a while, so I know he’ll be quite chuffed that I made sure I got a kick to the ribs with his name on.
So anyway, I’ve got 18 months stretch in a young offenders… should be fun!
See you in 18!
Age 18
05 June 1998
I’m back. But to be honest I’m not even sure I’m me anymore. I really never expected it to be so damn long. Makes you consider your life while you’re in there, put it that way. There’s nothing much else to do but think.
Some of the shit that went on, fuck, made me open my eyes. Yet, Dane’s told me Martin wants a word with me so I suppose something good’s come of it all.
Although I’ve become a tad greedy with the white stuff. It helped pass the time, clear my head from all the damn hatred while I was in there. Not once did my fucking parents visit me. Kerrie did, even Bec did, yet the two people who birthed me couldn’t find the time to visit their own son, the son who sought vengeance for the rape of their own fucking daughter. What kind of twisted arsehole doesn’t even bat an eyelid when their own daughter is raped and beaten? They’d just left it to me.
Well thank fuck I’m 18 cos’ I’m gone. I don’t wanna even breathe the same fucking air as them. I’d choke on it. Dane’s parents have offered to put me up until I find some cash to set up in my own place but I’m hazarding a guess that Martin will find me a ‘job’ or two.
A couple of the inmates in Feltham are already ruled under Martin, so I just made sure to pick them out. Simple really. They were all pricks, except Sam Taylor. He’s a couple of years older than me but he’s a good lad. We gelled instantly and I’ll put a word in with Martin when Sam gets out in a few. I already know his dad, he owns the martial arts training centre in Whitechapel, so I said I’d check it out. His dad sounds as much of a prick as mine though. Maybe I’ll do Sam a favour, he did enough of them for me on the inside.
But on a better note, Kerrie has a new boyfriend. And he seems okay. She told me he hasn’t pushed her for anything and that’s what she needs, slow and steady. Plus she knows I’ll kill the next fucker who hurts her, so Kade (the boyfriend) is currently on probation.
I need to get laid. Talk later.
Age 19
21st August 1998
Well happy fucking birthday to me!
Martin Steward held a party for me. And I’m in!! I’m just the dogsbody for the time being but shit, that’ll do me. Just means I get all the tough jobs but I’m willing to work my way up.
Life around here is shit unless you’re willing to knuckle down, in more ways than one. And to be honest, my mother’s a consultant at the General, and look what she’s become – a fucking drunk who doesn’t give two shits about her kids. So why should going the other route make any damn difference. I don’t want to live in a society that dictates how many times you can sit on the fucking shitter, I wanna crap when I want and how the fuck I want!
Guess who was at the party? The librarian! Remember her? Turns out her name’s Vickie. I didn’t fuck her, she seems a little shy but her eyes were on me all night so it was easy to approach her. Loves all the dirty books apparently, and shit if that doesn’t get the dirtier side of me interested in her! She’s obviously read about the kinkier stuff so maybe she’d be willing to try it. Trouble is she’s Martin’s little sister, and that could get a bit awkward for me if I do the usual, so I need to take it slow with this one. Work out if she’s interested in a regular relationship or just a good fuck – and it depends if she’s open with Martin or not. I’m not sure I want my personal partying mixing with business, it can make it difficult, especially if things don’t end too great.
It’s Bec’s birthday tomorrow and she’s having a party. Can’t say I’m looking forward to it really. Bec’s lovely, she’s sweet and I know how she feels about me, and that’s the problem really. She’s hot, and I’d do her, it’s not that that’s the problem, it’s the fact that she won’t be emotionally detached if we fuck.
But – there’s this part of me that wants to see how far she would go to please me. I know that makes me a bastard, but to be honest, I’ve never aimed for anything else, and Rebecca knows that.
My father’s been in touch. I knew he would when he heard about my association with Martin. The fucking cunt. He thinks that it will give him an in to the world. What a twat! He’s a drunk and an arsehole, he couldn’t handle this life. Although he has all the bravado, he’s just talk. He assumes that because he’s a bastard to women and he’s sick in the bedroom that he’s on par with Martin… and me. I’m not stupid enough to think I am but I’m shrewd enough to bide my time.
Martin is mine. He doesn’t know it yet though. I know what he’s done and although that makes me want to stab the bastard in the throat, I’m patient enough to wait for the right time. Plus I need his status to build mine in the underworld. So I’m willing to sit back and wait and I’ll use the time just to watch him.
Rapi
sts make my blood boil and my gut sick. Why would someone take pleasure out of forcing someone to take your dick? There’s plenty of willing women to do it for free out there. Although I’m a bastard, I also have morals. Maybe that’s unheard of in the criminal world, but fuck it, I like to be different. And one day, the people who work for me will respect my rules. Martin’s men follow him just because they’re fucking scared of him! Not me! I’d sooner gut the prick than have him dictate who I fuck!
Although I did manage to release some of the anger earlier. Jimmy Hampton’s father came after me. Apparently he was waiting for me to get out of the nick so he could ‘personally’ get vengeance for me putting his son in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. And if I wasn’t grateful for that.
The twat thought I was easy pickings. He really didn’t expect the kicking he got. Why do people assume I’m not capable of hurting them? Jimmy thought so, and now his father. I suppose him thinking that gave me an advantage over him, he didn’t see the first punch coming, and he certainly didn’t expect it to be so hard. He went down like a motherfucking girl. I can’t understand why so many are scared of the tosser. One hit, that’s all he got in, and fair enough it was hard enough to give me a black eye but that’s as hard and tough as it went.
I’m still smiling at the thought that Martin acted like I’d killed the damn queen, his respect is already guaranteed and he was even chuffed enough to get his own men to get rid of the body for me… prick! If only he knew.
My Diary, by Mason Fox (Heart of Stone #8) Page 1