Lucifer's Children

by Brett Williams

  “What? Oh. Yes, I’m fine.”

  “Just giving you shit. May I come in?” Kat didn’t wait for an answer and she stepped over the threshold.

  “I suppose …” Amanda couldn’t imagine why Kat was visiting her. Didn’t she have other, closer friends? Juvenile delinquents to hang out with? Or horny teenage boys like Matt looking for a good time? She said, “How can I help you?”

  “Well …” Kat’s eyes scanned down to Amanda’s feet and back up to make eye contact, pausing briefly to linger on her budding breasts. “I’ve saved your bacon twice now,” Kat said, stepping closer to Amanda. “I figured it was time you show your appreciation.”

  Amanda got the distinct impression Kat wanted to push her buttons, but something about Kat, with her prestige and assumed power, made Amanda want to play along.

  “Oh, really? How so?”

  Kat moved even closer, now toe-to-toe with Amanda. Kat pressed her breasts against Amanda’s chest as she reached out to comb fingers through Amanda’s blonde ponytail. Kat leaned closer until her lips nearly brushed Amanda’s earlobe. Her whispered words tickled as she spoke: “I want you to take me to your room and lick me into a frenzy.”

  “Sounds great,” Amanda said. “There’s only one small problem.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m into boys.”

  Kat grinned. “But they aren’t into you.”

  “I’m saving myself for someone special.”

  Kat’s grin widened into a smile. “I envy you, Amanda. I really do. You’re special, you truly are. But we each play our part—that’s all we can do.”

  Amanda didn’t understand what Kat was saying. She glanced around to make sure Mrs. Henning wasn’t eavesdropping. “Are you high?” Amanda asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay, then, why are you here?”

  Kat’s eyes glided along Amanda’s body yet again. Her hand reached out, causing Amanda to take a couple of steps backward.

  “It’s okay,” Kat said.

  Amanda stood still. The hand touched a breast, but only for a moment. The brief encounter left Amanda very confused. Each time she interacted with the redhead she felt more uncomfortable, but at the same time more at ease. Like she didn’t enjoy Kat challenging her boundaries, but found herself relieved once it had happened, because she felt more connected with her new … friend?

  Amanda grabbed Kat’s wrist. “That’s enough.”

  “Tease.”

  “Seriously, though, why are you here?”

  “Oh, no reason. Just thought I’d look around, see how the better half lives.”

  The better half? They both attended a private all-girl school. Kat couldn’t come from an underprivileged family, could she? Her eyes followed the gaze of her friend, into the living room. Her feet carried her in for a closer look.

  “Nice fucking pictures.”

  Amanda glanced at the dust-free

  panes of glass.

  And the other pieces of artwork

  hanging on the wall.

  Their images did not register.

  “Yes,” Amanda agreed.

  “You really keep this place clean.”

  “Thank you.” How did she know that was Amanda’s responsibility?

  Kat didn’t stop in the living room. She peered into the family room before approaching the door to Mr. Henning’s office.

  “That room is off limits.”

  “I come and go as I please.” Kat turned the knob.

  “No, really, don’t. Don’t go in there. Mr. Henning won’t like it.”

  Kat strode straight in without slowing down.

  “You shouldn’t be in there,” Amanda said from the living room, averting her eyes as though even looking inside was forbidden. She had seen a desk and file cabinet but nothing else. This was bad. Very bad. Mrs. Henning could come downstairs any minute. Amanda could hear Kat talking to herself:

  “Hm … where does he keep it? There it is.” A sound of a file drawer gliding out. “La la la. Let’s see …”

  “Please, Kat. You shouldn’t be in there.”

  “Shut your trap. This will only take a minute. You’ll thank me later.”

  Other file drawers glided in and out, Kat humming nonchalantly, followed by the riffling of paper.

  “What are you looking for in there?” Amanda asked.

  Kat shushed her but offered no explanation.

  Amanda, unsuccessful in getting Kat to leave the office,

  turned her attention to the wall

  and its photographs

  A sound from the foyer drew her attention. The front door opened and Mr. Henning entered. Amanda could see him from her vantage point a few feet from the door to his office.

  “Hi, Amanda,” he said, “Did you have a good day at school today?”

  “Yes, sir. It was okay.”

  He must have noticed something awry because his head cocked to the side and he strode into the living room. He said, “What’s going on?”

  Kat walked out of his office. “Hey, Mr. H. How’s it hanging?”

  “What the fuck were you doing in there?”

  “Why, nothing, Mr. H.”

  “Amanda, what the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t know. My friend was visiting, and then …” Amanda didn’t know how to continue.

  Kat hugged Amanda’s shoulders. “Mandy and I are best buds.”

  “I don’t care,” Mr. Henning said. “You don’t go pilfering through my office. Do you understand?”

  Kat pouted, her face plastic. “Please don’t be mad, Mr. H. I just stopped by to say hi. I can make it all better, if you like.” She licked her lips.

  “What I’d like is for you to get your ass out of this house immediately.”

  “No spanking for being naughty?” Kat looked hurt.

  “Out.” Mr. Henning jabbed a finger in the direction of the front door. Kat hung her head in obvious mockery, and trudged her way to the front door. There, she flipped her middle finger at Mr. Henning, much to the shock of Amanda, before saying, “See you later, sucker,” and heading out the door. It crashed shut behind her, shaking the house.

  Amanda stood aghast. Mr. Henning’s words brought her back to the present.

  “Goddammit, Amanda, why did you let her into my office?”

  “I didn’t … I told her not to … There wasn’t anything I could do.”

  “Like hell.”

  Mr. Henning snatched Amanda by the arm and nearly yanked her off her feet.

  “I told you to never go into my office.”

  “I didn’t go!”

  “It’s your responsibility to respect and enforce my wishes when I’m not around.”

  “What’s going on?” Mrs. Henning said from the entryway.

  “Kathryn, the redhead, was in my office, that’s what. And Amanda let her in.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t hurt me.” Mr. Henning was twisting Amanda’s wrist, and now, as he pulled her across the room, she thought her arm might get pulled out of its socket. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

  But she didn’t need to ask because she already knew. He had taken Amy there several times that she knew of and many more, undoubtedly.

  The basement.

  Mrs. Henning stepped aside as Mr. Henning dragged Amanda by the arm to the door set in the side of the staircase. Amanda, afraid to struggle too much, tugged slightly but pleaded plenty.

  “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Please, no. Please. I didn’t know. Please don’t take me down there.”

  “Shut up, you stupid bitch,” Mr. Henning said as he twisted the deadbolt lock. “You must learn. You need a reminder.”

  Amanda, afraid for her life, jerked back trying to free her arm. It didn’t work, so she kicked a sneakered foot into Mr. Henning’s shin without much effect. The basement door flew open exposing a black gaping abyss.

  “No!”

  “Yes!”

  Mr. H
enning flung her into the darkness, and arms, head, knees, and buttocks banged against wooden stairs and walls before Amanda landed flat on her back on cold, hard concrete. Tears streamed from her face and she could already feel a goose-egg bruise swelling up on the back of her head. She lay there a moment, trying to catch her breath. She longed to scream out for help but knew it would be in vain. Even if the sound escaped the basement, no one would hear it.

  Amanda sobbed, knowing she would remain in the basement for as long as Mr. Henning saw fit. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there on the cement, however, she did stir when she heard the doorbell sound. Mrs. Henning had ordered pizza for dinner. For a moment she found herself tempted to call out for help, but she feared what Mr. Henning might do if she did.

  While her foster family undoubtedly enjoyed their dinner, Amanda slowly got up and searched for a light switch, to no avail. She did, however, find something equally useful. Barely visible on a wooden table not far away was a candle with rippled ribs of wax lining it, and dried wax pooled around the bottom. Beside it Amanda’s hand bumped a small cardboard box that she recognized as a box of wooden matches. One flared on the first strike, and she set flame to wick and pale yellow light flickered around the room. The following registered, but only for a moment:

  The head of a goat.

  A cross that had presumably

  become unattached

  at the top and had swiveled to

  hang upside-down.

  Strange symbols on the walls.

  Stranger photographs.

  Those of dead bodies.

  Naked cavorting adults.

  And sickening acts being performed

  with small children.

  Everything appeared dusty, old, and frighteningly reverent. Amanda quickly blew out the candle and curled up in the middle of the floor and rocked. She repeated “No, no, no …” as if the sound might protect her, repeating it until her throat grew parched, and then continued the hymn in her mind …

  Until Mr. Henning unlatched the basement door and descended the stairs.

  ROCK’S GIRLS

  Rock finished his beer, crushed the can in his fist, and tossed it with form to rival that of any NBA great. Crumpled aluminum arched through the air to land in a wastebasket in the corner of the bedroom.

  “Nothing but net,” Rock said, arms raised in victory. He belched before rising out of bed and walking to the bathroom. He freed his penis from worn denim and began filling the toilet bowl with Budweiser lemonade. As the healthy stream gushed forth a tiny voice startled him.

  “Where’s kitty?”

  “The fuck?” Rock nearly splattered the floor. The voice belonged to Vicky, reminding him that Kat had somehow conned him into babysitting.

  “Where’s kitty?” Vicky repeated.

  “Her name is Kat. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Shit. He needed to start closing doors when she was around. But old habits died hard. “You shouldn’t be here—don’t look.” He gave his penis a quick shake before tucking it back inside his jeans.

  The little girl shrugged and said, “I’m bored.”

  “Go watch TV, drink a Pepsi, whatever you want. I don’t know where kit … er, Kat is, but she should be back anytime.” Rock certainly hoped so.

  “I wanna play,” Vicky said.

  “So go play.”

  The little girl stood blocking the doorway. Before Rock could to tell her to move, she reached for the bulge in his jeans and said, “Will you play?”

  “Whoa. No. Move.” Rock stepped around her and went downstairs, Vicky following, to the kitchen. There, he took another can of beer from the refrigerator. He preferred bottles but for some strange reason Kat always bought cases of cans. Once, he had asked how she had scored beer. She had replied with a you don’t want to know expression on her face. True, he didn’t. That crazy chick could probably get anything she wanted. They had been together over a year now, and despite bullshit such as this, they got along pretty damn well. Much better than anyone else he’d been in a relationship with. A very nontraditional relationship, of course, but how many traditional relationships worked out? Kat never jumped his shit for fucking around—not that he did often but this new tattoo artist at a rival parlor whom he had bumped into at a convention, a brick shit house with purple hair, had a body to kill for, and she had killed his cock after an after-party. There had been others, but Maryjane had been the most recent.

  Kat got around, too.

  Fuck it—he had never been happier.

  “Can I have a beer?” Vicky asked.

  “Hell no. Here—drink a Pepsi.” Rock opened a can and handed it to her.

  Kat and he might have a workable relationship but today of all days was pushing the limit.

  “Watch TV with me?” Vicky asked.

  Sure. Why not? He couldn’t get more pissed, could he? “Okay. But only for a little while.”

  He plopped down on the couch while Vicky, slurping Pepsi, scooped up the remote and began flipping through stations.,

  She wriggled up beside him and said, “When I get older I want you to give me a tattoo.”

  “Sure thing. Whatever you want in twenty years.”

  “No,” she said matter-of-factly. “Not that long.”

  Oh, Rock thought, Kat is going to pay. Big time. I better get the best blowjob ever, after getting screwed into this fucking babysitting job. Kat had been gone for three plus hours. And here he sat with Vicky pressed against him, her head on his shoulder, watching some bullshit animated kid program. She wasn’t even his kid. Kat’s, either. However, he sometimes felt sorry for the little girl, who Kat always referred to as her “pet”.

  Before Kat left earlier that afternoon, her only instructions were: “Don’t let Vicky play in traffic.”

  His reply: “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To fuck my other boyfriend.”

  “Yeah, right. Seriously?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you. I promise, lover.” She’d left him with a sensual kiss. And a prepubescent girl.

  A wandering hand snaked its way into his lap. By the time Rock realized what was happening Vicky had latched onto his (holy shit) tingling crotch.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. That ain’t cool.”

  Vicky laughed. And squeezed. Rock pulled her hand away and squirmed against the arm of the couch.

  “I’m bored,” Vicky reminded him. “I wanna touch it. I wanna taste it.”

  “Well, that isn’t going to happen. Fucking shit. What’s your damage?” What a creepy fucking little girl. Before Rock could say anything else, he heard a car pull up in front of the townhouse. Kat didn’t own a car (she was resourceful, though), but he figured it was her before the front door opened.

  “Miss me?” Kat asked as she entered.

  “For fuck sake, I’m glad you’re here. Any longer and Vicky would have jacked me off. Seriously, what’s her problem? Whoa, hey, who’s your friend?”

  Kat had never brought anyone to Rock’s place except for Vicky. Today a tall, long-haired blonde about her own age accompanied her. Rock stood and Kat pressed her body against his, greeted him with a kiss, and slipped her tongue into his mouth. She smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and jasmine. As the kiss ended and their bodies parted, Rock noticed mats in her red hair. He attempted to comb fingers through those locks but his hand caught. The hair was glued by what appeared to be dried semen. A quick glance at Kat’s friend revealed a tight, baby-blue blouse with dried specks he assumed were also semen. The nipples of her pert breasts jutted against taut fabric while a bare midriff displayed the beautiful pale flesh of a narrow feminine waist. He longed to tease the exposed navel with the tip of his tongue and run it down to the sweet camel toe hidden behind low-cut white cotton shorts.

  Rock typically preferred women with curves. Kat certainly fit the bill with her nice, round ass, shapely hips, firm breasts. But there was something to say about subtle curves disrupting the drape of long straight hair in
a distinctly feminine way. Plus, tight little ass cheeks spilling out of shorts, a luscious “Y” between the legs, and those sweet, pouting lips. What magic they might work if given a chance.

  “I’m bored,” Vicky reminded everyone. “I’ve seen this show before.”

  Kat, ignoring her pet, said, “This is my friend Mandy.”

  “Hi.” The blonde smiled.

  “She’s thinking about getting a tattoo.”

  “You know all my gear is at the shop.” Changing the topic he added: “What have you two been up to?”

  “Oh, this and that. Right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well,” Rock said, “I’m glad you’re back. I’m no goddamn babysitter. I’m pretty sure Vicky is getting hungry. Any longer and I don’t know what I’d’ve done.”

  “Feed her, perhaps?” Kat cupped Rock’s crotch.

  Rock’s hand shot to her wrist while his eyes darted to her friend, who appeared amused.

  “Don’t tease. Not like that.”

  “Who’s teasing?” To make her point, her hand gently squeezed as she moved closer.

  The friend moved closer as well and said: “I just want a small one, nothing really, but I’m willing to pay top dollar.”

  “You should stop by the shop next week.”

  “You don’t understand,” Kat purred. “Mandy wants to pay in flesh. Consider her a present from me to you, baby.”

  “Seriously?”

  Kat’s nimble fingers began to unfasten his jeans, and the blonde helped tug his T-shirt over his head. He didn’t argue. Why would he? Before he knew it they were sharing his cock.

  “I wanna play too.”

  Oh yeah, he had forgotten all about Vicky in his alcohol-buzzed state. Rock started to pull away, cover himself, but Kat said, “It’s all right.”

  “Don’t you dare,” the blonde mumbled around his dick. “I want you buried deep in my ass.”

  Holy fuck, was this really happening?

  It didn’t happen immediately. It started with vaginal penetration of Kat, followed by more oral stimulation, and culminating in a deep anal eruption inside Mandy while watching a very enthusiastic pet play with her kitty.

  Rock realized that his and Kat’s relationship had just graduated to the next level.