thirteen
The Saint
“The fuck were you thinking?” I bellow, storming through the door to the heathen’s room.
“Hold that thought,” he says, sparing me only a glance from behind the eyes of the wolf mask he’s wearing before he turns back to the willing victim he’s currently drilling so deep you’d think the little shit was tapping for oil. “I’m almost done.”
She mewls pathetically from inside the sheep head she’s still wearing. Her little white dress is bunched around her waist, her ass in the air and her tits on the mattress. Her arms are extended over her head, her hands bound to his bedframe with the cincture that held Mercy’s as Heath rails her from behind.
“That’s right, little lamb,” he pants. “Let me hear you bleat.”
The chick has little enough self-respect to obey, letting out a sheep-like baa as he lifts her hips and pumps into her shaved pussy.
Suddenly, a flash of what we witnessed in the tunnels returns to my mind, the soft curls of strawberry blonde pubic hair parted as the Master spread her cunt open for us to see.
“I ought to stomp you into the ground until there’s nothing left but bloodstains,” I growl, slamming the door and stalking toward him. I’m too pissed to even think about joining, though a good fuck would probably calm me down right now.
“One second,” he pants, gripping the crease of her hips as he picks up the pace, jackhammering into her, his hips a blur of motion.
“You can bust in this one’s ass while you wait,” Angel says, tearing his mouth from between the thighs of another contestant. She’s sitting on his face wearing nothing but the giant mask and a pair of white heels, her dark skin gleaming in the lamp light. He’s not offering me her ass though. Another contestant is riding his dick, this one completely naked except for her sheep head. She turns to look at me with the soulless, blank eyes of the mask, reaching back to spread her ass cheeks in an invitation that’s almost enough to break me.
But then Heath throws his head back and howls, his ass flexing as he grinds his dick so deep into the girl she whimpers for mercy. He holds her hips still and finishes with a series of quick, erratic thrusts. Finally, he drags his dick out of her and steps back, pushing the mask up onto his bleached hair and swiping an arm across his forehead. “What’s up?” he asks, gesturing to the girl he just vacated. “Want a turn?”
I’m distracted by her freshly fucked pussy for a second, but then I tear my eyes away and glare at Heath. “You put Mercy in the game?” I demand.
He shrugs and gives me that unhinged grin that terrifies most people. “She had it coming.”
“She’s my fucking sister,” I rage.
“She’s the perfect sacrifice,” he argues, peeling the condom from his pierced dick.
“How’d you get it by me?” I ask, crossing my arms and refusing to look at the girl who’s shifting her ass around like she’s trying to lure my attention. She probably is. The contestants aren’t exactly pure and holy. They sign up for this because it’s what they’re into.
“Easy,” Heath says, dropping the cum-filled condom into the trash and slapping the girl’s ass as he passes to open his dresser. “You handed me the stack of entry forms for the chicks we’d approved and told me to take it to His Holiness. I slipped hers in. He doesn’t look at them too closely. He trusts us to pick the thirstiest bitches. He just signs off.”
“Mercy’s not a thirsty bitch,” I say, glowering at him.
“You sure about that?” he asks, grinning as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and does a little jump on his toes to get everything situated. “Did you see her pussy streaming when he was fingering it?”
“You fucking heathen,” I say, leaping at him. I grab his throat and shove him back against the dresser.
“You can’t tell me it wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen,” he says, straining back against me. “Did you know she’s still a virgin?”
“She better be,” I snap.
“Don’t tell me you’re not tempted,” he says, wrestling to free himself. “Can you imagine? A real virgin sacrifice.”
I squeeze his neck. “She’s my sister.”
“Yeah, but not by blood,” he croaks.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, loosening my grip. As much as I want to choke the life out of the little shit, I want to hear him say it, the words that excuse the fact that I can’t stop thinking about the slick pink inside of her cunt, and wishing I’d been the one squeezing her swollen clit until she squirted in their faces.
“She’s barely even your sister by law,” he says, taking advantage of my slackening hold to shove me away. “You haven’t seen her in years. Aren’t you at least tempted to make her pay for what she did? You went to juvie too.”
The reminder hangs in the air between us, heavy with the weight of my guilt.
Then we’re distracted by Angel making one of his lambs shriek in ecstasy as she throws her head back and rides out her orgasm on his face. Heath whoops and starts dancing around, laughing and clapping. I watch him, frowning at the ease with which he seems to shrug everything off. I know there’s more than he lets the world see—even us on most days, but definitely when there are others in the room.
When we were arrested after Eternity’s murder, Heath didn’t have money, so he got a public defender. Angel has money, but the judge thought he’d deal a blow to the town’s gangs by locking up the son of one of the most notorious gang leaders in Faulkner. I got off with barely a slap on the wrist, my sentence delivered with an apologetic smile and a promise it wouldn’t ruin my future.
I’ll never forget that lesson, the one they don’t teach in school. There’s no blindfolded Lady Justice with a scale to balance your crime to your punishment, to make sure the trial is fair. The scale is already weighted to favor those like me, white and wealthy, and there is no fair punishment for a crime you didn’t commit.
My parents hoped to put it all behind us when I got out, that I’d never associate with the two men in this room again. They wanted me to start over with a clean slate, wash my hands of them the way they washed their hands of Mercy. But there’s no way I could do that, even if we hadn’t been friends for ten years at that point. We were bound together—by the murder, the trial, my sister’s betrayal.
Heath climbs onto the bed with the other three, leaning down to lick the other contestant’s clit while Angel fucks her from below.
He had the longest sentence, thanks to Mercy’s big mouth, and I’ll never live down the guilt of that. I owe him. I understand him, why he put her name in tonight, even if I want to murder him for it. I could kill him with my bare hands, but I won’t. I won’t even make him hurt for it. Whatever he does, he’s my brother now and forever. That comes before everything—even my sister.
But damn it, he let other men touch my sister. Spread her open and display her cunt to the world, like it’s theirs to see, to lust after and covet. It’s not theirs. It’s mine .
Fuck. What am I thinking?
It’s not mine.
She’s mine. My sister.
My sweet, feminine sister with the lacy skirts and the blanket on her bed that I’m sure she knit herself, the love of baking and tea, cozy pillows and cardigans. My sister with soft curls in her hair and skin like pale silk under my fingers, the glistening slit of her dripping red cunt so primal and wild in comparison to everything I know about her.
She’s pure. She’s innocent. Even the soft whisps of her pubic hair tell the story of someone not accustomed to being seen, touched, fucked.
My cock is so hard I know I’m going to regret it if I don’t get some relief. I shove my hands into my pockets, only to find a damp wad of fabric. I pull it out and stare at the white cotton panties I stripped from Mercy’s body earlier, the single rosebud on the front the only color. Before the others notice, I quickly shove them back into my pocket. Slowly, I finger the soft fabric, finding the wettest place, where her arousal soaked through.
I slide my other hand into my pants, jerking my stiff cock as I approach the bed still occupied by the bound contestant Heath just used.
“Roll over,” I order her faceless, prostrate form.
She turns over on the bed, her arms twisted from the way she’s tied.
“Did you cum?”
“No,” she says, shaking her giant lamb head covered in cream-colored fur with a pink bow on the top.
“Good,” I say, climbing onto the bed. “Whores don’t deserve pleasure.”
She whimpers as I stand over her, placing one foot on either side of her body and jerking off above her.
“Now spread your legs and beg me to fuck that sad little pussy.”
“Please,” she moans obediently. “Fuck me, Saint.”
I should do just that, but all I can think about now is how fake she sounds compared to Mercy’s desperate pleas echoing through the tunnel. I slip her panties from my pocket, fisting them around my cock as I jerk harder, imagining her tears falling over my tip as she begs me to leave her pure. That’s her greatest treasure, her self-righteous purity and innocence.
So that’s what I’m going to take from her, just like she took mine.
I picture her body under me instead of this hungry slut, and cum jets from my tip over the sightless mask, the smooth tits and stomach. I step backwards and dribble the last drops between her spread legs, throwing the bitch a bone. She begs desperately and tilts her pelvis, trying to get more in her pussy. I sigh and take pity on her, squeezing out a few more drops before putting my dick away. No doubt she’ll be going home to cry into her wine spritzer because she didn’t get Saint Soules’ cock. The least I can do is give her enough to lube her up when she fingers herself to sleep.
“Game over,” I say, climbing off the bed and undoing the cincture around her wrists to free her. “You’re dismissed. All of you. Go home.”
“Come back and ride my face anytime,” Angel drawls, tucking an arm under his head as he lounges on his pillows like a king, one leg hanging off the bed, not a stitch of clothes on his thickly muscled, light brown body.
“Yeah, come back so I can bust in your ass next time,” Heath says, slapping a girl’s ass.
She squeals and swats at his hand, and he lunges after her. With a shriek, she darts away, and I see the flash in Heath’s wild blue gaze when his primal nature activates. All it takes is one step, one wrong move, and he’s no longer a man, but a predator.
Within seconds, he’s chasing all three lambs around the room, slapping their asses and cackling while they squawk like hens caught in a coop with a fox.
“Heath,” I bark, grabbing up a handful of white clothes from the floor. I shove them into one of the girl’s arms and turn her to the door, opening it and pushing her out into the hall. I grab the next one as she passes and push her out. Heath grabs the one wearing heels around the waist, lifting her off her feet. She squeals and kicks, giggling too hard to speak. He says something in her ear, and she nods and then fans her legs wide, flaunting her pussy, still slick from Angel’s saliva and her own cum.
“Tell him what you told me, baby,” Heath says, turning her from me to Angel.
“I want your cum,” she says, her voice echoing inside the lamb’s head. She adds a nervous giggle at the end, probably noticing the expression on my face. “Inside me.”
“Put her down,” I order Heath.
He sets her on her feet, flashing a knowing grin in my direction.
“Take the condom off Angel,” I tell her.
She glances between us, then minces over to Angel, who hasn’t moved. He watches her with an amused expression as she tugs the condom off his mostly-soft dick.
“Now you have his cum,” I say, nodding to the used condom in her hand. “Put it inside you.”
“What?”
“Put it in your pussy, and hold it there while you walk home,” I tell her. “I want a picture when you get there to show me you made it without letting it slip out.”
“A picture of it… Still inside me?” she asks.
“We need to know you make it home safe,” Angel drawls, giving her a lazy wink. “Can’t have one of our flock wandering off.”
“You are unbelievable,” she growls at me, but she places one foot on the edge of the bed while she pokes the used condom up inside her.
“So I’ve been told.”
“Where are my clothes?” she demands.
I gesture to the door. “Threw them out. You better hurry or you’ll be walking home in just your heels.”
“You’re supposed to get us home safely,” she reminds the room.
“Oh, but we did,” Heath says with a wide, feral smile.
“The game ended hours ago,” I point out. “You wanted to come over and get fucked. Now you have. We don’t give a fuck what happens to you now.”
“Burn in hell, Saint Soules,” she snaps, stomping to the door. Her words might be more impactful if she wasn’t wearing a ridiculous lamb’s head with a pink bow on top.
“Already there,” I mutter as I close the door behind her.
“What a night,” Heath says, flopping onto his bed in his grey sweatpants and brushing a palm over his inked torso. “Just when I thought HAVOC might get boring.”
“It’s not every day your best friend’s sister squirts in your face,” Angel says, watching me and lazily moving his dangling foot back and forth.
I shove my hands in my pockets so I won’t start swinging. “Did you know about this?”
“Nah,” he says, glancing at Heath. “But I wouldn’t say no to sucking the squirt out of her pussy next time. You didn’t tell us she grew up to be all hot and shit.”
“How would I know?” I demand. “I haven’t seen any more of her than you have this year. And before that, I hadn’t seen her since the last time you did.”
The day we went to juvie, to be exact. The guilt flares like heartburn in my chest.
“Exactly,” Heath says. “You’re not even really her brother anymore. She’s been living with your aunt for four years. Stop thinking of her the way you did when we were kids. We’re not the same kids we were then, and neither is she.”
“You just want to fuck her,” I accuse, balling my fist around her panties.
“Not gonna lie, I’d give my right nut to bust the left one inside her,” Heath admits. “But this isn’t about wanting to get in her pants now that she’s hot. She’s not our friend anymore. She’s not your sister. She’s just a chick who put us behind bars when we were innocent. The shit she made them believe—about my own sister.” He shakes his head, and a rare glimpse of hurt flickers across his face, and then it’s gone.
“He’s right,” Angel says, sitting up at last. “We were all there that day. And yet, we all paid for something we didn’t do, and she never paid for what she did.”
“She didn’t do anything, either,” I point out.
“She sent us to juvie,” Angel says. “That’s her crime.”
“Isn’t it time she paid for her sins?” Heath asks.
I finger the white cotton in my pocket, the dampness of her arousal. The contradiction between the sweet, innocent looking garment and the wetness from her swollen cunt that was so ready to get fucked when a stranger fingered her that she begged for him to take her virginity, not even knowing who he was…
She’s not as innocent as she wants people to believe.
“You’re right,” I say at last. “She signed up for a game where the ultimate goal is to get chosen to be fucked by twelve men in front of a priest. She’s already damned.”
“Exactly,” Angel says. “No girl who signs up for HAVOC is innocent.”
“And if she is, she won’t be for long,” Heath says, eagerness radiating from him at the prospect of being let loose on tonight’s sacrifice after all. We all need this. My friends may give me a break, but the others are going to be pissed that I ended the game before the big finale.
“But only us,” I say, giving him a hard look.
“She’s the sacrifice,” Angel protests. “The Master already sealed her fate. We can’t hoard her.”
“It’s just us, or it’s no one,” I growl at him. “We can give them one of the thirsty bitches you just fucked. That’s how it works if the original sacrifice taps out. This one taps out after the three of us.”
“Yeah, okay,” he grumbles.
“I like it this way,” Heath says. “Mercy’s not for everyone. This shit’s personal.”
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “She’ll pay for her crime.”
“With her body,” he says, palming his dick. “Just like a whore.”
Angel chuckles darkly. “We can make that happen.”
My own cock throbs at the thought of what I’m about to allow them to do—to my own sister. I’ll watch them, but I won’t participate. No matter what Heath says, no matter where she’s lived for how many years, she’ll always be my little sister, the girl my parents adopted when I was five, giving me the sibling I’d always wanted. I’ve always protected her, but she gave up the right to that when she turned her back on us.
They deserve her penance. They did more time than I did.
But I’ll enjoy watching from the sidelines as she finally atones for the sin of her betrayal. I’ll enjoy watching my two best friends—brothers to me in a way she was never a sister—enter her paradise and wreak havoc on it in ways she’s never imagined in her pathetic attempt at wildest dreams. I’ll relish every tear that falls from her lashes as they take everything pure about her soul and paint it as black as theirs, destroying what she loves most about herself. I’ll revel in her misery as they corrupt and defile her Garden of Eden without mercy, using up every part of her body and soul until there’s no part of her untouched by their depravity.
And I’ll make her wish it was her own brother doing it instead.
That’s what will extinguish the last spark of hope for redemption for her soul. When we’re done with her, her Eden will be a desolate hellscape of perversion that matches our own.