The Best of Horror Library: Volumes 1-5

by Bentley Little

  “It didn’t ring,” Lisbeth said, ignoring the pang of guilt that blossomed in her chest at the lie.

  “I heard it.”

  “No one’s been here.”

  Mama’s enormous eyes squinted at her through the thick lenses. “Well. Guess not. What man would come to see you?” She laughed, but it sounded like she was coughing. “No man would come see you. Unless he was blind.”

  She took the empty glass from Mama. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Let the cat in.”

  “Missy’s gone, Mama.”

  “She ran away again?”

  “She died.”

  “When?”

  “Three years ago.”

  “What about Lulu?”

  Lulu had been their collie. “Last year. She got hit by a car and died.”

  And now it’s your turn, Lisbeth felt another pang. But the guilt wasn’t as strong as it had been when she’d begun thinking such thoughts. She was waiting for Mama to die, even looking forward to it. Lisbeth had made peace with that. But she didn’t know what she would do with her life once Mama was gone, only that she finally would be able to do something with it.

  Something besides taking care of Mama—feeding her, bathing her, changing her diapers and constantly being available to do her bidding. She left the house only to take Mama to the doctor or go to the grocery store or pharmacy. Whenever she went out on her own, the temptation not to go back home was always powerful.

  But her anticipation of Mama’s death was not entirely self-serving. After all, Mama was miserable and was steadily losing her mind. Death would be a relief for her. That was what Lisbeth told herself, anyway, to soothe that pang in her chest.

  Mama considered the deaths of Missy and Lulu, which were always news to her. “Do we have any pets?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “We should get a cat. Go get a cat, Lisbeth.”

  “I’m not going to go get a cat, Mama.”

  “Then tell your father to go get one!”

  “Daddy left when I was eight, Mama. Remember?”

  Lisbeth went to the door, then turned back and said, “You don’t need to shout for me, Mama. Use the intercom. Just push the button and I’ll come.”

  But she wouldn’t remember. She never did. The next time she wanted something, she would shriek Lisbeth’s name like a madwoman.

  Lisbeth went back to the kitchen and put the glass in the sink. She looked at the dildo on the table in the cloth bag Sunny had given her. She’d included the little bottle of lubricant as a bonus.

  She’d walked Sunny to the front door. Before leaving the house, she’d turned to Lisbeth and leaned so close that her lips touched Lisbeth’s ear. “It’s only for you,” she’d whispered. “Tell no one.” Then Sunny had left her lips there for a long moment, her breath hot on Lisbeth’s ear. It had sent a delightful tingle down her neck.

  Sunny had left the house as Mama continued to shout. Lisbeth had started to close the front door, stopping just before it latched to pull it open a few inches so she could look out and watch the woman go down the front walk.

  But Sunny was already gone.

  * * *

  Lisbeth checked to make sure Mama was sleeping because she wanted to be left alone for a while, then went to her own bedroom and locked the door.

  Holding the dildo and lube in the cloth bag, Lisbeth stood at the mirror and looked at herself. Her mousy brown hair appeared unwashed, but it wasn’t. It simply had no life. Her round cheeks were pocked by the ghosts of teenage acne so bad that her face used to bleed. The scar left behind by her cleft palate slanted upward from her top lip. She’d been slender in her younger days, but a sedentary life and careless diet had made her doughy and shapeless.

  She ran her fingertips lightly over the acne scars, then touched her limp, flat hair. Normally, she spent very little time looking at herself because it was depressing—and doing this was depressing her now. She had not come to her room to brood.

  Walking to her bed, she removed the dildo from its bag. She sat on the edge of the bed and put the lube and dildo on her nightstand, with the empty bag beside them. She undressed and pulled back the covers, got into bed, then uncapped the small bottle and dribbled lube onto the dildo. She held it close to her face in her left hand and watched the thick fluid run slowly down the sides of the rubber penis. Then she ran the tip of her forefinger through it, slowly dragging it the length of the shaft.

  She made a quiet whimpering sound as it began to thicken before her eyes. She found it amazing…and terribly exciting.

  Lisbeth stretched out on the bed as she stroked the dildo and watched the veins appear and the color gradually change, and she felt it swell in her fist. She had never seen a real penis, not in person. But she’d seen pictures. And that was what the rubber shaft became—a real penis. Then she noticed something she hadn’t seen in the kitchen with Sunny.

  At the rounded end of the dildo—which was now a defined mushroom-like cap—there was a slit, and from the slit oozed a small droplet of clear fluid. At first, she thought it was the lube, so she wiped it away, then continued to stroke the shaft. A moment later, another droplet emerged from the slit.

  Lisbeth squeezed the dildo—

  It’s not a dildo, she thought absently, it’s a penis. It’s a…a…

  —and more of the fluid came from the slit in the head.

  “A cock,” she whispered to herself, frowning at the discharge as she tingled with naughty delight at saying the word out loud. Sunny hadn’t mentioned that there was anything in the dildo.

  She rubbed it across her right breast slowly, back and forth, leaving a glistening trail, then down over her belly. With her right hand, she reached down and stroked herself with one finger, then two. She’d been wet since Sunny had first shown her the dildo and her fingers made moist smacking sounds.

  She slid the toy between her lips and pressed it against her clitoris, then rubbed it back and forth as she released a long, trembling sigh.

  No, it wasn’t a dildo. Not anymore. It was flesh against her, warm and alive.

  She kept moving it on that same spot until the sensation moved throughout her body. She gently pressed the tip against her opening and slowly slid it inside. Eyes closed, her mouth opened wide as her head tilted back and her body shuddered with pleasure.

  The toy swelled inside her, pressing against her inner walls as she moved it in and out, feeling it grow.

  The sound of her own voice startled her at first, and then she lost track of it as she slipped downward into the sensation. Time dissolved along with her surroundings. She was accustomed to tingling feelings in various parts of her body when she masturbated, especially as she neared orgasm, but this brought something new, a growing burning sensation in the soles of her feet and the backs of her thighs. The burning intensified, but then she lost track of that, too. Of everything. Soon, the bed beneath her was gone and she was suspended in darkness. Her ears thrummed with the sound of her blood rushing through her veins as all her attention focused on what had become the very center of her existence: The throbbing, disembodied cock pounding into her. She forgot that she was manipulating it with her hands because she no longer had hands …or arms… or legs…or feet. She existed only as an engorged vulva and the pulsing, wet tissue that squeezed the cock as it grew within her.

  The entire universe exploded in blinding, agonizing white light.

  She did not hear her own cries as her orgasm seized her, or the screams they became as the orgasm continued relentlessly, roaring through her like a train in flames. She felt only the cock, which exploded inside her, punching her like a fist, impossibly wet, connecting with exposed nerves previously untouched.

  Pounding…pounding…pounding…

  On the door.

  “—beth! Lisbeth! Lisbeth! What’s wrong with you?”

  Gasping for air, Lisbeth rolled to her left to get off the bed, but she had no control over her body yet. She was fluid that spilled over
her bed, directionless and without form. It was the floor that finally restored her to solidity when it rose up in a rush and slammed into her.

  “Open this door, Lisbeth!” Mama shouted. “Right now, young lady! Open it!”

  Lisbeth rose up on hands and knees as the pounding continued at the door. Her vision was blurred and her ears were still filled with the rushing of blood, but Mama’s voice pierced everything and tore a long trench in the surface of her brain. For a moment, she wanted to rush out of the room, pounce on Mama and snap her brittle, scrawny neck.

  She stood and stumbled around the room looking for her clothes, but couldn’t remember where she’d put them. Her bathrobe was tossed over a chair. She clumsily slipped it on and went to the door, clutching the lapels together at her throat, still panting. Mama stood crookedly on the other side in her yellow flannel nightgown, back hunched, her wheeled oxygen tank standing on her left, aluminum quad cane on her right.

  “What have you been doing, Lisbeth?” Mama demanded. “I’ve been standing out here—” Mama froze and gawked up at her with misshapen owl’s eyes, her toothless mouth hanging open. She stumbled backward a step, leaning heavily on her cane. “Whuh—what…who…who are you?” Her hushed voice sounded not unlike the old garbage disposal in the kitchen.

  Lisbeth leaned heavily against the doorjamb and her head fell forward a moment. “It’s me, Mama,” she said.

  Mama’s face only grew more confused and frightened. “But…but…no, it’s…not. Lis…Lisbeth?”

  “Go back to your room, Mama.”

  “What…what’s happened to you?”

  “I said, go back to your room, Mama.”

  Her entire small, frail body began to tremble. Her already lined brow wrinkled further with a frown and her chin jutted indignantly. “This is the work of the devil,” she said with quiet gravity.

  Lisbeth rolled her eyes behind closed lids. She was simply not in the mood for any of this and felt herself getting angry fast. “Go back to your room, Mama, and I’ll—”

  “Get thee behind me, Satan!” Mama shrieked.

  Clenching her fists at her sides, Lisbeth shouted, “Shut up and go back to your room!” Then she slammed the door and locked it.

  She flopped onto her bed and spent some time enjoying the interrupted afterglow of her orgasm. After a while, she got up, tossed the robe back onto the chair and began to dress. She stopped when she glimpsed herself in the mirror across the room. She stared at her reflection for a long moment, then approached it slowly, cautiously. She felt a chill as goose bumps rose on her arms and back.

  Her hair fell in waves over her shoulders, shiny and full.

  It’s unlike any other dildo ever made.

  Her face was smooth and had narrowed, her pudgy cheeks flat beneath high graceful cheekbones.

  Honey, that thing will give you the best orgasm of your life, but it does so much more.

  Her double chin was gone and her neck was slender.

  When you use it…it changes you, Lisbeth.

  But the most amazing thing—the thing that made Lisbeth gasp when she saw it—was her upper lip and the skin above it. It was smooth. Unblemished. Unscarred.

  In ways you can’t imagine.

  She stumbled backward as she began to cry, until her legs hit the foot of her bed and her ass dropped to the mattress. Lisbeth smiled as she sobbed.

  * * *

  When she took Mama’s dinner to her, the old woman cowered in her bed and stared fearfully, carefully watching her every move. She didn’t speak.

  Mama refused to have a television in the house, so Lisbeth usually spent her evenings listening to music and reading. But she spent that evening locked in her bedroom, lying naked on her bed, giving herself orgasm after orgasm with Sunny’s Happiness Toy. Each time there were improvements, but they were small compared to the initial change, which had been drastic.

  With each use, the dildo’s penile features lingered a bit longer. By midnight, they did not go away. It remained a thing of flesh and veins.

  Lisbeth did not get to sleep that night until the early hours of the morning. And then she slept deeply.

  * * *

  The next morning, Lisbeth woke feeling better than she had in…as long as she could remember. When she took Mama breakfast, the decrepit old woman stared at her in silent fear, but Lisbeth smiled and wished her a good morning. She had errands to run, and for once, she looked forward to going into town.

  It was a gorgeous day outside, sunny and hot. She’d dug deep into her closet and pulled out a pair of shorts and a little top she hadn’t worn since she was 19. At first, she felt self-conscious in them, especially when she noticed at the grocery store that people were staring at her. But then she realized it was only men who were staring, and they seemed to do so with approval.

  She got her groceries, then picked up Mama’s prescription refill at the grocery store’s pharmacy. The woman at the register gasped when she realized who Lisbeth was.

  “Lisbeth!” she said. “You look so…different! Have you lost weight? Changed your hair?”

  Lisbeth blushed and stammered for a moment, then stopped, smiled and calmly said, “Just taking better care of myself.”

  At the checkout, the bagboy—in his mid-twenties, though, so he was hardly a boy—ogled her as he bagged her groceries. Lisbeth had been shopping there for years and he’d never so much as noticed her before. In the past, whenever he asked her if she’d like help to her car, always without making eye contact, she’d said no, and she would have done the same this time—if he’d asked. Instead, he put the last bag in her cart, smiled and said, “I’ll help you out,” pushing the cart toward the exit.

  Outside, she pointed to her car in the lot and said, “Right over there.”

  He kept looking at her on the way, always smiling. It made her feel vaguely uncomfortable, but she reminded herself, you don’t look the same anymore.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you in the store before,” he said.

  “Then I guess you haven’t been paying attention.” A heartbeat after speaking: I can’t believe I just said that.

  He was quite handsome, with full, dark hair and bright blue eyes, broad shoulders and a creamy tan. He was the kind of guy Lisbeth typically hoped would not notice her. But today, she felt differently. And she enjoyed it.

  “You shop here often?” he said as he stopped the cart behind her car.

  She opened the trunk. “I do all my shopping here. Have for years.”

  He took a bag out of the cart and stopped to look at her closely, frowning a little. “Really? Then I haven’t been paying attention.” As he put her groceries in the trunk, he said, “Looks like you’re shopping for two people.” The way his voice went up at the end, it was almost a question.

  “My mother. I take care of her.”

  “So you’re not married, or anything?”

  She grinned so hard that she felt a little embarrassed. “No. Or anything.”

  He put the last bag of groceries into the car, then closed the trunk and took his cell phone from his pocket. “Why don’t you give me your phone number and we can get together. A drink, maybe? Since I haven’t been paying attention, I can make up for lost time.”

  Her hands were still trembling as she drove home. She’d never been asked for her number by a man before and she kept replaying it in her mind. Over and over. He actually wanted to go out with her!

  Mama will be furious. She’ll want to know where I’m going and why and with who and how long I’ll be gone. She smiled to herself. And I’ll lie.

  As if she were being punished for the thought, Lisbeth’s front left tire blew out. She struggled to maintain control of the car while trying to pull over to the side of the road. Instead, she drove up onto the curb.

  “Damn,” she muttered as she backed up enough to get off the sidewalk. She had never changed a tire before, but over the years, Lisbeth had discovered that she was a quick learner because she had to do things for hersel
f.

  She got out of the car and took a look at the tire. She would have to move the groceries from the trunk and put them in the back seat so she could take out the jack and spare tire. Sighing with frustration, she went to the rear of the car and opened the trunk. Before she removed the first bag of groceries, a car pulled over and parked in front of hers.

  Before the driver could get out, a second car pulled up behind hers.

  Both drivers were men. She did not have to change the tire herself.

  * * *

  Lisbeth couldn’t help giggling as she carried groceries into the house. She had to make two trips, but she didn’t care. She was too happy to be bothered by anything—even Mama.

  As she unpacked the groceries, she thought of the two men who’d helped her change the tire. One had asked her out, the other waited until the first had driven off and then had asked for her number. It was a deluge after a lifetime of drought, and it was a bit dizzying.

  She thought again of Mama and how she would react to Lisbeth having anything that resembled a social life. It would infuriate her. But she was hardly in any position to do anything about it. And how much longer could she last?

  Mama was probably upset that Lisbeth had been gone so long—more than three hours—but she simply couldn’t find it in herself to be concerned about that. As she put groceries in the refrigerator and cupboards, Lisbeth allowed herself to imagine what her life would be like after Mama was gone.

  Before Sunny’s visit yesterday, she’d found it difficult to imagine being alone and had no idea what she would do with her life. Now she seemed to have something of a future. She had been smiling so much, her cheeks ached.

  Once the groceries were put away, she started on Mama’s lunch. It was twenty minutes to one and Mama liked her lunch precisely at twelve-thirty, so she was going to be cranky. She made Mama’s tuna salad sandwich on white bread while a kettle of water heated up for tea. Several minutes later, she took the lunch to Mama’s room.

  The door was closed. It was usually open a crack, but Mama had closed it completely.