Chapter 4
Cason
Ilook around our office. It’s a giant room with high ceilings, a lot of blonde wood, and an assortment of dead animals set into special creches.
Yeah, we’re that kind of motherfucker. My bro and I like to hunt, and savor the glory of our kills by investing in expensive taxidermy.
As a result, a lynx snarls from one corner, while from another, a deer raises its antlers in proud majesty.
I remember that fight like yesterday, too.
The stag was mighty and fierce, thrashing and bucking with terror and pain when it all ended.
It was raw and real, and altogether a sensational experience.
But I know how it looks to the haters because they call my brother and I sadists who relish in the death of other living organisms. Yet there are multiple angles of viewing the scenario.
The truth is that as cattle ranchers, we’re intimately in touch with the land, the sky, the sun, and of course, the animals that roam our property.
Death is merely the flip side of life, and with every calf that’s born; every cow that goes to market; and hell, every blade of grass that grows on our property, we know that life is transient.
There is only nothingness in the end; dust to dust, ashes to ashes.
As a result, most things don’t matter except for family, friends, and living without regrets.
Different, but interrelated ideas. My eyes land on a framed photo on my desk which features Mom, Dad, me and Colt, as well as our other five siblings mugging for the camera.
Yeah, Mom and Dad were fruitful, resulting in a giant brood.
Not only that, but our siblings have been fruitful as well, reproducing and multiplying again and again so that our extended family now has something like forty people in it when you include all the kids, grandkids, and even the one great-grandchild from my brother Billy.
I shake my head ruefully, eyeing the photo. Did my sister have four children or five? Twins or triplets or maybe a set of both? I can’t remember.
“Yo, I don’t want to go,” I grunt to my brother.
Colt looks up from his desk.
“You mean to the party at Becca’s? But it’s Josie’s birthday.”
I roll my eyes.
“Do we really have to go to a kid party? It feels like we’re always going to children’s birthday parties these days.”
Colt shrugs and nods, still typing at his computer.
“Yeah, and with the twins turning six soon, we’ll have more parties to go to. Hopefully, they do a joint thing this year, but you never know. Juno and Jamie are spoiled, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they demand two shindigs this year instead of one.”
I stare at my brother’s rugged mug.
“No fucking way. I can’t go to two birthday parties in such a short time frame. It isn’t feasible. I’ll fucking die.”
Colt merely shrugs again, still typing away with his eyes fixed on the screen.
“Yeah, it’s tedious and I especially hate when they pull out the projector and start with the birthday PowerPoint.
It’s fucking boring because who really wants to hear all your inside jokes, much less view an endless reel of your last vacation?
But these are the Madewells, and dude, we’re Madewells too. ”
I grunt.
“Yeah, whatevs. I fucking hate how they’re always on us to settle down and start reproducing too. Like they aren’t already overpopulating the world.”
My brother shrugs.
“It’s annoying, but you know how they are. Besides, we’re practically geriatric at this point to them. They all started reproducing at eighteen, so we’re like fucking ancient geezers.”
I shake my head.
“Fuck them. Forty isn’t exactly over the hill. But I hope they don’t bring a woman around and introduce her to us, hoping that one of us takes an interest. What was her name again from that last thing? Tanisha? Jumelle?”
“Tanielle,” Colt says glumly. “She was cute but not our type. Susan’s friend’s daughter, right? Who was just “stopping by” to drop off her angel food cake. What was she? Seventeen? Eighteen?”
I snort.
“Yeah, the Madewells don’t give a shit about a woman’s age. The younger the better, so she’ll have more fertile years to breed. As you can see, the fam doesn’t believe in birth control,” I drawl. “It’s the trad wife lifestyle coming at you.”
My brother shrugs.
“Trad values are trad values, and it’s fine, but you know they don’t even suspect that we share women. Our sibs have no fucking clue.”
I nod silently because it’s true. Sure, our family sees my brother and I as black sheep, but in an oddly endearing way that can be “corrected.” As Colt mentioned, we didn’t get married early and then start procreating like rabbits.
Instead, we’ve remained single, and as far as our relatives know, we’re enjoying the bachelor life like any red-blooded alpha male.
But they don’t suspect the half of it, which is that we prefer to share women.
If the fam found out, goddamn, but the shit would hit the fan.
Our relatives would be shocked, surprised, and damn us to hell.
Literally, they’d consult the family pastor and we’d likely be subjected to some kind of religious exorcism.
What can I say? The Madewells espouse conservative values, like many people in this region, and the fam believes in the union of one man and one woman with no exceptions.
It hasn’t caused a problem so far, but that’s because they don’t know about me and Colt.
Again, it would be hellfire and brimstone if they found out that we enjoy sharing pussy.
Our habit started a long time ago, actually.
Back in college, my bro and I dated different ladies.
It never even entered our head to fuck the same woman, but shit came about by chance.
We were at a frat party, and the usual BS went down.
The boys hired a hooker to service the crew, except this time, the girl wasn’t experienced, at least not with gang-bangs.
She looked alarmed when we took her up into the rec room before locking the door, and her eyes grew round as her breasts heaved.
“I’m not sure,” she muttered. “I mean…”
“Didn’t Carina tell you that you’d be doing a gang bang?” Tyler, our chapter president, snarled. “What the fuck? We’re Sigma Epsilon Chi, which is S-E-X in Greek letters. What did you think you’d be doing, drinking afternoon tea?”
To my horror, her eyes filled with tears as her lip trembled.
“Well, I’m not sure,” the woman hedged. “Carina wasn’t too specific, and I thought—”
Tyler snarled again, this time getting in her face.
“We paid for a fucking gang-bang, and that’s what we’re going to get. So if you’re not going to deliver—”
I stepped in then.
“No need to be a jerk,” I rumbled. “Listen, I’ll talk to her first, okay? We’ll figure out where to go with this.”
“Where to go?” Tyler echoed disbelievingly. “There’s nowhere to go. We hired a girl for all of us to fuck, and now this here chickadee says she’s not ready.”
“It’s not that I’m not ready—” the woman protested, tears rolling down her cheeks now.
“She just needs a little time to warm up,” Colt growled. “You fuckers exit, and that includes you,” he said with a snarl at Tyler. “We’ll talk to her. In the meantime, get the fuck out.”
That was that. Our frat brothers left the room, leaving us with the young woman in the silence of the attic.
She sniffled a bit, wiping at her cheeks.
The woman was beautiful and lush with tanned skin, long honey-blonde hair, and caramel brown eyes.
She was wearing a hoochie little top which showed off her big breasts, and a tiny mini-skirt paired with sky-high heels.
Yet there was something innocent about her too, and my brother and I shared a glance.
“So what was your name?” Colt asked in the silence of the room. “I’m Colt, and this is my twin, Cason.”
“Arielle,” she murmured while wiping away her tears. “I’m here to work, I swear, but Carina … well, Carina did tell me I’d be servicing multiple men,” she admitted. “I’m just … well, it’s my first time doing a gang-bang, that’s all.”
My brother and I paused.
“Are you okay doing a gang-bang?”
Arielle wiped at her wet cheeks again.
“Yes. Or at least, I thought I was, but when I saw all of you, I started getting panicky. Again, I’ve never done this before.”
Colt shoots her a look.
“Never done this?” he echoed. “You’ve never been with men, or you’ve never—”
“No, I’m not a virgin,” she corrected hastily. “I just … well, I needed the money so I agreed to do a gang-bang,” she said, her voice dying to a whisper on the word “gang-bang.” “The rate is a lot more,” she explained, cheeks flushing from humiliation. “And I need to make rent.”
My heart contracted because people often have pre-conceived notions about who you meet in certain types of work.
Yes, Arielle was beautiful to look at and dressed like a slutty ho, but it’s clear that she was a young girl trying to get by in a harsh and unrelenting world.
My heart swooped, and I wanted to help her.
“Let’s get you warmed up, then. How about it?”
Arielle colored, her cheeks going a fetching shade of pink.
“What do you mean?”
Colt and I shared a glance.
“My brother and I will help you loosen up,” I clarified in a deep voice. “It won’t be a gang-bang, but taking two men will get you prepped so that you can be ready for what comes later in the night. Think of it as a step in the right direction.”
Arielle blushed again, and my heart contracted again with emotion.
The girl was beautiful but what the hell was she thinking saying yes to a gang-bang for money?
But then, I caught myself. Even as a young man, I knew that I was lucky.
My family wasn’t rich, but we always had food to eat and a roof over our heads.
The struggle Arielle faced opened our eyes, and Colt and I were gentle with her … at first.