Then, about half way through the meal, Selena yawned and stretched. A simple thing she had done many times that he never bothered to notice. Her arms slowly pulled behind her, in a slight inverted V and her head thrown backwards, back arched and breasts thrust into the air. Those soft, curving domes formed into perfect shape by the bra whose faint outline could be seen through her light t-shirt.
It was quick; a moment sped through and unnoticed by the other two. They continued their conversation, but the words blurred. That single pose remained frozen in his head, overlaid with the memory of how those same breasts looked without any covering, nipples pert with freedom from the constraints of clothing.
The words had stopped. Genevieve and Selena were looking at him strangely. They must have said something to him and were waiting for a response.
Shit. What the hell were they talking about?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I must’ve spaced out for a moment. I, uh, really have to go to the bathroom.”
He didn’t wait for a reaction. Doing his best to surreptitiously pull his shirt to dangle over the front of his pants, hopefully concealing the raging erection he was sporting, he got up from the table and rushed to the bathroom. The second he was in there, he ripped his phone from his pocket as if it was something alive and trying desperately to attack him from its place of hiding.
The video pulled up again and he forwarded it to the single frame he needed, sitting at exactly the twenty-two minute and thirty-three second point. He was a bit surprised that he already had the exact time memorized. He pulled his pants and boxers down around his ankles and squirted a bit of lotion into his hand from one of the several dispensers on the sink.
“I know what you were doing,” Selena said, giggling some, as he returned to the table. He knew she was just needling him, but he thought he saw an odd glint in her eyes. Something slightly playful and mocking. He tensed up, but hoped she didn’t notice. Certainly, she couldn’t really know. “Baking an emergency batch of brownies?”
He let out the breath that had stalled inside of his frozen lungs, relieved.
“Just wait until you get older, young lady,” he said, waving his finger in faked outrage. “Your own gastro-intestinal perfection will wane one day, too. There’s a bottle of Metamucil being made right now with your name on it.”
The rest of the evening continued without major incident, but he still found himself stealing glances at her. Watching the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Studying the elegant curve of her neck. Her pink nub of tongue gently smoothing its way along her lips.
That night, he practically attacked Genevieve when they got into bed. The sex was energetic, excited and passionate as any they ever had, but he wasn’t with her. In his head, it was Selena’s ass he was gripping onto, her luscious pink folds he was probing with his tongue, her pussy he was fucking as if the world might end at any moment.
It continued that way for weeks. He did the best that he could to control himself, to abate his roving eyes with the images stored on his phone. To quell his lust for Selena in the bed of her mother when the pictures wouldn’t. The video had begun to bore him. There was too much build up time, with too little payoff. Over twenty minutes of her humming off-key to herself before a quick second or two of what he wanted.
He decided to try again.
He spent almost the entire time she was bathing pretending to read, but he was actually trying to figure out a plausible excuse for going into the bathroom immediately after she exited. He didn’t want to run the risk of Genevieve stumbling across the phone still recording. Instead Selena made it easy for him, coming downstairs right as Genevieve had gone into the kitchen.
“You left your phone in there,” Selena said. His pulse quickened and his veins went icy. Did she know? Had she looked at it? Was this the point where she started screaming at him and his whole life collapsed because of the stupid goddamn mistake of listening to his dick and his brother? “With as much time as you spend telling me to keep track of expensive things, you should try showing a little care yourself.”
Her tone was light, conversational. Quiet and relaxed. Certainly, she wouldn’t have been this calm if she knew what it was there for.
“Thanks,” he said. “I’m sure I’d be running all over the house looking for it tomorrow morning.”
“You know you would.”
He went upstairs, doing his best to appear calm and unrushed but needing desperately to see what he had caught. As hurried as he was, he couldn’t help noticing that she had left the bathroom a complete disaster. Sticks and leaves, coated in some kind of odd smelling mud, were laid out in some crude circle on the floor with more of the mud smudged is squiggles. All teens were messy, but she turned it into an art form sometimes. He decided he was going to have a talk with her about cleaning up after herself. Later.
His phone was still where he had left it, perched on the corner of the soap shelf. He snatched it up, double checked the door to be sure it was locked and opened up the file, somehow managing to drop his pants and underwear to the floor in the process.
For five minutes there was nothing except the empty tub and some mumbled, off-key singing in the background. When Selena finally entered the frame, she was wrapped in the fluffy green floor length robe that left her looking like a formless mint lump of cotton. She milled about for a little bit. Brushed her teeth. Spent a few moments making faces at the mirror. Clipped her fingernails. Combed out her hair. The wait was excruciating, but he was afraid that he would miss something if he sped through too much at a time.
Luckily, she began to fill up the tub next. As the water poured from the spigot, she slid the robe from her shoulders. That image, on its own would have been worth it all to him. Watching that mint monstrosity edge off of her shoulders and fall to the ground, revealing her pale, smooth back. She was just skinny enough to show the outline of her ribs and the faint bumps of her spine but her hips were meaty, her ass round and heart shaped.
Then she turned around.
The sight stunned him. Instead of the quick glimpse between frames that he was afforded before, this was a full view from the front with nothing in the way. From her full, gloriously uplifted beasts, topped with those sweet cherry-pink nipples hardened from their release, down her light, softly rounded belly to the her fiery pubic hair. He practically dropped the phone. His dick was throbbing and his balls begged for release. Still, he held off in hopes of more.
She lowered herself into the tub and grabbed the loofah, covering it with soap. After lathering it, she began scrubbing her arms, lifting each one high as she languorously rubbed the soap into her skin. Slowly, she worked the lather into and over her shoulders, around her neck. He wasn’t certain, but he thought he saw her lips purse in slight moan. The loofah abandoned, she began to work the lather over her breasts, cupping them and squeezing slightly and taking extra time with the nipples. She continued to do this for a full minute before he realized what was happening.
“Holy shit, she’s really…” he whispered. The realization was too much for him. He was too stunned to do anything but watch.
Her right hand had begun to slide southward, smoothly caressing her stomach on its way to her pussy while her left hand continued to knead her tits. She gyrated her hips slowly, counter to the direction her pointer and middle fingers were circling her clit. Periodically a finger or two would dive into the cleft of her cunt before returning to that wondrous pink nub. Her head was thrown back, that deep red hair spilling over the side of the tub. Eyes closed. Clearly biting her bottom lip, probably to keep from crying out. Both the gyrating and the motion of her fingers increased in tempo and he knew she must be cumming. Her back arched, thrusting her tits into the air, hardened nipples pointing skyward as if in triumph. Selena’s hips bucked three times before settling back down into the tub, signaling that she was through.
The whole time, he hadn’t so much as touched his dick, but a thick line of semen had spurted onto the floor anyways.
Still, he wanted more. He rewound back through the scene, stunned by the luck he had in being able to capture this, and squirted a handful of lotion into his palm. As he worked himself through his own second coming, something he was rarely capable of any more, he imagined himself being the one to bring her to climax. His hands were the ones cupping her tits. His palms caressing those cherry nipples. His fingers were exploring the depths of that pink little pussy. And she wouldn’t be able to restrain herself from crying out under his adoring ministrations. She would scream the name of every deity she knew into the sky as she came.
He hadn’t paid as much attention as usual and left a bit of a mess for himself to clean up. He left the video running out, not paying attention to it as he wiped his DNA off of the floor and side of the sink. He had forgotten completely about it until he heard someone speaking on the recording. Selena.
Speaking his name.
He immediately stopped what he was doing and backed up the video, hoping that it wasn’t what he thought it was. After all, she could not have been calm if she caught him. He would have heard Genevieve screaming if she had been told. Still, his heart was pounding as he watched Selena step from the tub and look directly into the camera.
“I know you’ve been watching me,” she said, speaking soft and low enough that she would not be heard outside of the bathroom. “Don’t worry, I wanted you too.” Her hand began to wander below the view of the camera and Jordan was sure that she was touching herself while talking. “I’ve been trying so hard to get you to notice me. Call in sick tomorrow. Mom will be at work and we can have some time to ourselves.”
He didn’t know what to think. He never intended to act on his impulses toward her. Of course, that was when he was certain she wasn’t interested. Now, faced with the possibility, he wasn’t as sure. He loved Genevieve and she fucked like a tigress. He shouldn’t have wanted anything else. But he did. He remembered his brother saying that it was all genetic coding, that he had no choice about his desires. That clinched it for him. Besides, how often would an opportunity like this present itself.
The next morning, he waited until Genevieve left to call off from work. Selena wouldn’t be up for a couple hours, since it was during a break, so he took the opportunity to take an early shower. The idea of fucking Selena with her mother’s smell still on him seemed wrong. It was a bit too much.
As the hot water hit him, he was already hard. He briefly considered cranking out a quick one, but decided to hold his energy. He wanted to give this everything he had in him. He grabbed the soap and began to wash himself as he heard the door open.
Poking his head out from the shower curtain, he saw Selena standing in the doorway, naked except for a towel wrapped around her waist. He gulped, suddenly a bit frightened as well as excited. He expected that he would have to come to her. He had planned on going to her room and waking her with a soft kiss to the nape of her neck before moving around to the front of her, doing his best to work her into a frenzy before giving her what she wanted.
Selena obviously had different plans.
She reached across him, letting her dangling hair brush the tip of his dick as she turned off the water. The sensation was maddening. If he didn’t watch himself, he’d cum right then. That wasn’t the impression he wanted her to have of him.
She then took his hand and urged him out of the shower. He was shocked even more when she immediately dropped to her knees in front of him. Without delay, she wrapped her warm, red lips around the head of his cock, running the tip of her tongue along the underside of his glans as she slid her mouth over him. He usually preferred a bit of foreplay rather than going straight for the goods but he didn’t want to stop her.
She was taking him all the way down to the base of the shaft. No hesitation or even the slightest hint of a gag from her as she worked her head up and down. She even grabbed his ass to shove more of him into her mouth. The sensation was tremendous. He wasn’t able to restrain himself and came in less than a minute. He expected her to pull away when the first drop of semen hit her tongue but she didn’t. She pulled him in as close as she could get, sucking down what felt like gallons of cum.
Jordan’s eyes rolled back in his head. His toes were curling and familiar convulsions were running through him. His orgasm was so intense that he didn’t notice the sharp nails digging into the flesh of his buttocks at first. Or her teeth.
The bite came quick and forceful. A double sided guillotine cleaving through the meat of his dick. The pain, coming so close on the heels of such intense pleasure, didn’t register correctly. He was confused and tried to pull away, but her grip on him was too strong. With muscle power far beyond that which a fifteen year old girl should possess, she kept him trapped against her, swallowing both the meat of his dick and the blood that was flowing from the wound.
She continued for longer than he thought could be possible. Long enough for the agony to break through his confusion. Long enough for him to start thrashing madly, trying to force her off of him. She’d gone crazy. She saw him taping her and lost her damn mind. Now she had bitten off his fucking dick and goddamn swallowed it. The pain was white hot, blasting through his head. He lashed out in every way he could, beating his arms against her head and trying to wedge his hands between her face and his crotch but none of it succeeded.
He could feel strength draining with his blood and let his hands fall limply at his sides. His knees gave out and he crumpled to the floor. Only then did she let go of him. As she stood up, he noticed she looked different. It definitely was not Selena towering over him now. Her skin was taut, a deep leathery tan and cut across in places with lava-red fissures that seemed to glow even under the fluorescent lamps. Those breasts that used to jut out from her chest against the rules of physics and gravity hung low and loose, stretched like pendulums dangling toward the ground. The pink buds of nipples now wizened fingers pointing hellward. And her face. A tight, shiny and plastic mask of humanity with orange embers for eyes looking out over a broad smile lined with triangular, shark-like teeth.
Worse still was the jutting abomination between her—its—legs. Nearly the width of a toddler’s arm. Roped with purple and red veins. A foot and a half long if it was an inch. With a barbed tip glistening in the yellow-green light. The damned thing wasn’t even female.
Before he had time to consider the implications of his earlier escapades with the beast, it reached down and grabbed him roughly by the hair. It jerked him up into a standing position and slammed his head, face first, onto the sink. Bright agony burst through his head as his nose exploded. His thoughts were already fuzzy from the blood loss, but now he felt distant, detached from himself.
The beast that he had thought was his stepdaughter pulled back on his hair, forcing him to look forward at his own phone leaning against the bathroom mirror. Selena’s face was on it, a recording she had apparently made for this very moment.
“You piece of shit,” she said in a surprisingly even tone. “What kind of perverted asshole sneaks a video of his wife’s daughter in the bath? Then you try to take me up on an offer to fuck?
“You were the one who bought me my first bike and taught me how to ride it. You spent who knows how many hours helping me make sense out of numeric gymnastics for math. You told me to always go for the nuts if a guy tried to cross any lines with me. Was all of that just a way to prime me for this?
“You’re a sick fuck, that’s all there is to it. Luckily, you weren’t the only one to teach me a few things while I was growing up. Gramma appreciated my interest in the old ways, in the lessons she learned at the feet of her own elders, almost as much as the help I provided around the house all those summers you sent me to see her. She used to call me her little acolyte when none of you were around. Among other things, she introduced me to one of our dearest and oldest family friends.
“I’ll leave you two to get better acquainted.”
The screen went black and the creature’s grip on his hair tightened. While he was pre
occupied with Selena’s rant, he didn’t notice it repositioning itself behind him.
EVERY DROP OF BLOOD HAS A SOUL
A Tale of Faust
David Quinn
From the files of Dr. Jade DeCamp, Consulting Psychiatrist, Bellevue Hospital, New York City.
Isolation-666 is easy to look at.
I should rephrase.
With his eyes tightly closed—a welcome change from his habitual stare scouring my every move—John Jaspers is easy to study. And I remember why I pursued psychiatry in the first place. I’m free to persuade him to deliver what he sees in that world within. Free to try to help him reach…a better place. Or at least a place that doesn’t involve massacre and mystery.
“Look hard. How old are you now, John, when you look?”
“How should I know? I’m a child! The nuns—the nuns are taking care of me, so it’s after—”
“The accident?”
“If you choose to call it an accident.”
John Jaspers was a mute giant when the police brought him to Bellevue Hospital. They had already washed the blood and dirt from him. Some of it was his. Most of it wasn’t. Now, in restraints, in his small chamber, barely illuminated by fluorescent lights, he’s wilted into himself, a wild thing starved for its natural habitat.
But we don’t dare let this inpatient share space with the general population. Not until I make progress.
“After the death of your parents... then… you’re five years old?”
“And the sisters are taking care of me. Like this straitjacket takes care of me. Doctor DeCamp.”
At this, I anticipate anger searing me through his penetrating stare, but his eyelids remain sealed. Not a flutter. He’s closing himself in or closing me out, so I let silence—and his restraints—do their work.
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