4. 2
“Harder, fuck me harder!” Briar pleaded and we both came quickly. I felt unsure after, like I’d done something wrong, like I’d become my dad in those visions I’d had of the past. I got out of the shower and dried myself off.
“What’s wrong?” Briar said, her face flushed from the water and the afterglow of fucking, “that was intense. I loved it.” I grinned, my worries melting away.
I loved it too, the roughness, the feral desire.
I wasn’t my father. I just had to stop my thoughts seeping into my life in real time.
We dressed and then just before we were about to leave, Briar noticed Bess sitting on my bedside table.
“Where did you get that?” she whispered, her demeanour changing.
“Ah Bess. She’s a family heirloom. Why?”
“No reason,” Briar replied. But for the duration of the car journey home, she was silent and when I got to her house, she got out without a backward glance. What the fuck?
* * *
My father had invited me to the beach house for a “man’s night” for my birthday.
It was on Plum Bank Beach, high on a bluff with a killer view of the ocean.
I arrived just as it was going dark. I paid the driver and made my way up the wooden steps to the house.
Parked outside the front door was a cherry red Land Rover with a big, white bow on it.
My dad opened the door and embraced me.
“Hey son! How d’you like your new set of wheels?” he said, looking smug. I was happy as fuck. Now I could escape my mother whenever I felt the need.
“Thanks dad,” I grinned, as he handed me the keys. My dad looked worn out and teary-eyed. The shadows under his eyes and redness around his nostrils informed me that he’d been partying already. He took my luggage and placed it next to the door.
The house was very plush; the décor was chrome and brilliant white with cool landscape art on the walls.
It had two bedrooms and a large living room with a ninety-inch TV and black leather Italian sofas.
I heard giggling from one of the bedrooms and two hookers stumbled out, each clutching an open bottle of champagne.
One was blonde and wore a red PVC dress and clear platform shoes and the other had dark hair and wore some lacy black lingerie and black PVC thigh high boots.
I swallowed hard, my cock beginning to sprout, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to fuck a random slut.
I still felt a bit rattled after my shower session with Briar, who had been ignoring my calls.
“This is my son Caspian, the birthday boy,” my dad said, grabbing the blonde whore’s ass. The dark-haired girl came closer to me, offering me a glug of the champagne. I took a swig, enjoying the fizz as it went down my throat.
“Hey Caspian,” she said, “I’m Mona and that there is Angel.”
“MMM you’re no angel!” dad said crudely as he groped the blonde girl’s tits. I suddenly felt very cornered, and not sure what was expected of me.
I blinked and saw train tracks and knives glinting in the moonlight and I heard the squelching of cocks going in and out of holes, and the muffled whimpering of a girl in pain.
“Caspian?! Caspian?!” my dad said, clicking his fingers in front of my face. I was back in the room, and Mona was cutting up cocaine on the black glass coffee table.
“Braiden, are you sure he can have some? He’s just a kid,” Mona said worriedly, licking the remnants of coke off dad’s black Amex.
“Not tonight,” dad said happily, “my boy is now a man! Go on son,” he handed me a metal straw.
The whores looked at me expectantly and I swore I could hear an indecipherable whisper, a voice like tinkling bells.
I knelt down and snorted, my head spinning as the cocaine entered my system. Angel clapped her hands.
“You’re gonna be a bad boy just like your daddy aren’t you,” she cooed and then crawled seductively over to my father undoing his zipper and getting out his cock.
There was just some things a child shouldn’t see, and his dad getting blown by a hooker was one of them.
Oddly, I was fascinated by her technique; the garish fluorescent acrylic nails that pumped my dad’s shaft, as eagerly over made-up eyes stared into his.
The way she began to finger herself and lubed up his cock even more by spitting on it .
My dad had his hand in her peroxide hair and was pulling her onto him, ramming his dick down her willing throat as far as it would go. My cock was painfully erect, and I felt Mona turn my head away from the illicit scene.
“Come on, let’s go to the bedroom,” she murmured.
Numbly, I followed her. The bedroom was elegant and chic with a California king bed strewn with different coloured velvet bolsters and pillows.
Mona walked over to the bedside table where an unopened bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket.
She expertly popped the cork and giggled as the champagne fizzed out all over the shaggy orange rug.
Without preamble, she undressed leaving her boots on.
I stood frozen in the middle of the room, cock erect, mind in shambles.
Mona sat at the end of the bed and drank from the bottle, coarse as she was.
“Come and sit next to me,” she said, laughing at my hesitation, “it’s OK I won’t bite!
” I perched on the end of the bed, and chanced a look at her beautiful, naked body.
Her skin looked so smooth, and her rosy nipples stood out on end, begging to be touched.
She took my shaking hand and placed it on her breast. I gasped as I felt her nipple harden further.
She then lay back on the bed and opened her legs, showing me her shaved, pink pussy.
I could see that she was wet. Fuck it, I thought and knelt down on the floor pulling her gaping pussy towards me as I licked her sticky lips.
She moaned with pleasure, and I could feel her hole grip my fingers as I slid them inside her and gently finger fucked her.
She grabbed my wrist and pulled me deeper inside her, fucking my hand so hard that I thought she was going to break my bones.
My mind began to wander. I didn’t really want to put my dick in this girl.
Who knew how many guys she’d fucked. I felt her vaginal walls gripping my fingers like a fucking suction cup.
She gave one last almighty thrust and then I felt her juice leak out all over my hand.
I felt a bit repulsed and wanted to go outside and get some air.
“But don’t you want me to blow you?” she said, clearly put out by my indifference.
“Nah, I’m good. Enjoy yourself. I’m sure my dad wouldn’t mind another pair of willing hands,” I said, throwing her a fake smile as I left the room, grabbing my bag and making my way onto the impressive terrace.
There were some loungers and a hot tub, that bubbled merrily away.
The sky was full of stars and the crescent moon glinted.
I breathed in the salty sea air and leaned over the railing, turning with a start as I heard moaning.
My dad’s patio door was open, as were the blinds and I could see him fucking Mona while Angel was rimming his ass.
Whores. They made me feel dirty. I liked sex but with respectable girls of my own standing.
But isn’t Briar a slut? A voice in my head argued.
I guess she was, but these girls were the scourges of society.
Cheap, tacky and brash. I kicked myself for being somewhat of a hypocrite and went and lay on one of the loungers.
Savannah wasn’t a slut, she was a good girl, someone in love who was betrayed by those she loved and trusted. I unzipped my bag and took out Bess.
“How am I supposed to save you Savannah?” I whispered as I looked at the cracked, porcelain face of the doll, “you know Bess, you’re still pretty, even though you’re a bit broken.
Is that what I am? Damaged?!” When she didn’t reply, I giggled stupidly.
Perhaps it was my mind that was fractured.
I closed my eyes and drifted listening to the waves crashing on the rocks below.
I was awakened by a little girl’s laugh.
“Finally,” Bess grinned, all sharp teeth and mischief, “I thought you’d never wake up! Let’s have some fun!” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and shivered. It sure was chilly near the coast at night.
“Bess, is Savannah real?” I asked as she walked by my side back indoors.
“Of course she is. In time you will see and then you will understand.”
The house was silent, lit only by a couple of lamps that emitted a pleasant, warm glow.
Empty champagne bottles and half-drunk glasses littered the table, and I noticed remnants of cocaine along with screwed up little baggies.
We made our way into the guest bedroom, and Mona was star fishing naked, without her boots this time.
It was a lot warmer inside the house, and there was a delicious sheen of perspiration that coated her sumptuous body.
The blinds were open, and the moonlight hit her skin, giving it an ethereal glow.
Bess closed the bedroom door and locked it, a little laugh escaping her lips, her amber eyes iridescent in the semi darkness.
Mona stirred and curled herself into the foetal position.
I felt a delicate little hand pulling my trouser leg and she handed me my trusty weasel mask.
As I slipped it on, I felt at peace. The melody Bess hummed calmed me and the grisly horror movie that played in my head of the faceless crowd that tortured Savannah spurred me on.
Bess skipped over to the bedside lamp and sunk her teeth into the wire, gnawing through it. Now free of the lamp, it was still connected to the socket, and a little spark made her porcelain frame jolt, and she smiled coldly, her gums bleeding.
“Come, bring the ice bucket over to the bed,” she whispered. Quietly, I took out the empty champagne bottle and put the party-sized ice bucket onto the floor at the foot of the bed. There was a strange whooshing sound in my ears and then the tune materialized, and we began to sing.
Shocks and sparks will take your life, as I destroy your visage. Choke on blood and lose your eyes. Pop goes the weasel!
Mona sat up bleary eyed.
“Hey Caspian,” she said groggily, “what’s with the Halloween mask?”
“This isn’t a mask. It’s my face!” I snarled and shoved her head into the water in the ice bucket.
She thrashed about, her arms flailing, but when I was the weasel, I was as strong as anything, and the bubbling rage infiltrated the very core of my being.
Bess put the live wire into the bucket, and we stood back and watched as Mona was electrocuted, her head began to smoke as the current laid waste to her squishy bits.
It smelt terrible, like boiled meat and there was an unusual buzzing sound as the electricity coursed through her body.
She emptied both her bladder and bowels, leaving a yellowy brown puddle around her, that was soon accompanied by thick, lumpy blood.
Her hair began to stand on end and singe.
I wanted to gag, but the weasel wouldn’t let me, so I sat in the recesses of my mind like a grisly onlooker.
At last, when she was satisfied that the body had taken enough damage, Bess unplugged the wire from the wall and Mona’s corpse stopped flopping around.
Parts of her skin had gone black from electrical burns.
Bess grabbed her frazzled hair, lifting her head up, and laughed sadistically when she saw what was left of her face.
There were no eyeballs, just blood-filled sockets and her nose slid off down her face like a cheap prosthetic.
Her lips were back and had curled up like burnt crackling.
Blood and bile dribbled from her mouth. Bess dropped her like discarded garbage.
“Hmm, there’s something missing,” Bess pondered and then she dragged Mona’s boots over to the decimated corpse and impaled the heels into the eye sockets.
It made a squelching noise and pink mush trickled out.
I giggled like it was the funniest thing ever, then we left the room, going to check on my dad.
He was asleep with Angel cuddled into him, her head on his chest.
“Angel,” I whispered, my voice raspy like crunchy leaves in the Fall. She opened her eyes and sat up. I slowly went onto the terrace.
“Angel, come out to play!” Bess said, her voice evocative and dripping with the innocence of a child. Angel, as if in a trance followed us outside, not bothering to get dressed.
“Caspian? Is that you?” she said, her voice still thick with sleep.
“Yes, it’s me. Over here.” She came towards Bess and I, stood next to the hot tub.
“Haha! Kinky. I like the mask. You are filthy like your daddy,” she said, frowning when she saw Bess stood next to me smiling like a miniature maniac.
“Want to get into the tub?” I asked, my voice more manly and gruff than it should be for my sixteen years.
“You do see that doll don’t you?” she said fearfully.
“What doll?” I fibbed, “come on, you’re not scared of me are you? Surely a woman of the world like you has no inhibitions or fears.” Angel laughed, blinking and then she realized that she couldn’t see Bess anymore so satisfied, she pushed the lid off the tub and got in.
“Man, I think we did a bit too much coke,” she admitted as she slid her naked form into the bubbling water.
“My dad does too much coke, and fucks too many whores,” I said, spitting the word whore out like it was the most putrid thing ever.
“Hey, it’s just a job. It pays well and I can think of worse things to do to make a buck,” Angel said huffily.
“But your kind ruin relationships and spread disease. You are undeserving of all of this extravagance,” I said, appalled by this brusque slut and her well used cunt.
“Fuck you!” screeched Angel and started to clamber out of the hot tub, but I punched her in the jaw, and she fell back awkwardly, banging her head on the side and drawing blood, the water quickly becoming a grisly red as the wound seeped.
Bess’ laugh carried like windchimes through the air. She was altering the controls of the hot tub, but she’d twisted a knob too far and it had broken off. I could see the temperature gauge steadily climbing.
“Fuck! Why did you hit me?!” Angel exclaimed, gingerly touching her head wound.
“So I could do this!” I growled as I pulled the cover over the hot tub and heaved a weighty, metal umbrella holder on top so there was no way that Angel could escape.
Bess climbed up on top of the cover and began dancing, doing the Macarena and singing.
I joined in, though my moves were a bit rusty.
We sang louder than normal so Angel could hear us over the bubbling, boiling water and her own screams.
Trapped and scared inside the tub, your body boiled ali-ive. Cook you till your skin falls off. Pop goes the weasel!
“Why are we doing the Macarena?” I asked confused.
“I always loved that dance,” Bess replied, her porcelain skin looking deathly and really fucking creepy in the moonlight.
Angel’s screams and pounding on the sides of the tub diminished. Bess clapped her hands excitedly.
“Let’s look!” I pulled up my mask and wiped my brow, feeling hot from both the dancing and the heat from the tub.
It was steaming as I moved the weight and lifted up the lid.
It smelt like stewed offal. Angel’s body was boiled to perfection and the skin on her arms floated on the crimson surface, tender as fuck, leaving gruesome skeletal arm bones dangling in the water.
Half of her face had detached from her skull and bubbled about like a gory Phantom Of The Opera mask, eyeball and all.
Bess turned off the tub and I stared unblinking at the carnage, not feeling anything.
“Savannah says soon it’s for reals. It won’t be long until you can avenge her. She says you’re ready.” Bess said, skipping towards one of the sun loungers. I suddenly felt dog tired, as I always did after committing murder, so I got on the lounger and closed my eyes cuddling Bess against my chest.
“Bess?” I said yawning.
“What is it?” she asked, her little voice also sounding tired.
“You’re the best friend I ever had. You see the real me and I don’t have to hide. You won’t ever leave me will you?”
“No. We’re friends forever Caspian.” And with that, I fell asleep.
When I woke, I was still on the sun lounger but covered with a blanket. Bess was nowhere to be seen and there wasn’t a body in the tub. I padded bare foot into the house where I found my dad making pancakes. My stomach growled hungrily.
“Hey sleepy head! Want some breakfast?”
“Yes please, I’m starving,” I replied, sitting down at the breakfast bar.
“Why did you sleep on the terrace? I found you shivering when I went to the bathroom, so I covered you with a blanket,” my dad said, placing a stack of pancakes in front of me.
“I got a bit overwhelmed with the hookers,” I admitted, “where are they?”
“They left just before you came in.”
So me killing them had been a dream. What the fuck? I felt like I was seriously losing it. It had to be real. It felt like it happened. I could still smell Angel’s cooked flesh burning my nostrils.
After breakfast, I checked in my bag and there was Bess, just like I’d packed her, and I was sure I saw her wink at me.