Author: Pervitron Title: Annunciation Summary: There's just something about that boy that is strangely compelling. All the other moms seem as fascinated by him as she is... Keywords: mF, mf,Mdom, mc, ped, viol, humil WARNING: The following story contains graphic descrip- tions of a sexual nature. It is intended for mature persons only. Any persons not old enough to legally receive adult materials or who are offended by them should read no farther. Further distribution of this story--and all others of this nature by this author--is permissible only to appropriate persons and only if the contents and author credit are unchanged. NOTES: 1. Copyright (c) May 1999. 2. The persons and situations depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarities to actual persons or situations are completely unintentional and coincidental. 3. Reader comments and feedback are always encouraged; send to Pervitron@Hotmail.com 4. This story may be copied for free distribution, provided the author credit is retained. ________________________________________________________ Annunciation By Pervitron Linda Wentworth pulled the van into her driveway, and when she stopped she heard some of the grocery bags tumble over. Normally, something like that would get her annoyed, but today, for some reason, it didn't disturb the feeling of warmth that began when she turned onto her street. She realized that she finally felt at home here. She got out of the car and took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the late summer air and the sight of her home. It was such a lovely house, a big, century old home on a quiet street. A small town America street with sidewalks, the shade of huge oak trees, and neighbors that said hello as they walked by. In the difficult times when they first arrived here, Linda clung to its beauty - the sight of it consoled her. She sent pictures of it to all her friends, as if to say, "See, it was worth it, for a home like this." The past few months had been painful for her family. They were city people; they would have never have thought of moving anywhere, not to mention a small town like this, if it wasn't for her husband's transfer. Jim was determined not to miss this opportunity. The move to company headquarters came with a major promotion. He wanted it badly, and he used all his persuasiveness to convince her to go along. He told her that small town life would be better, he brought up all the times that Linda herself complained about the way New York was corrupting her children. So Linda went along, as she always did. The initial loneliness that she felt here had hardened into resentment. So many nights she sat on the porch, waiting for him. Jim spent almost all of his evenings in the office, trying to make a good impression on his new bosses. Never mind that she was home, feeling lonely, simmering because in the months since they'd moved here, they had sex exactly four times. The children hated it too. Cindy, their eight year old, left behind a class full of friends, kids she'd known since the first grade. She hadn't been able to meet any new friends in the brief month she had in her new school before the summer started. So she spent all summer alone in the backyard, just swimming back and forth in the pool. Linda would stand in the window and watch her swimming, feeling sorry for the child. She'd wonder if Jim's promotion was worth it. Timmy, their twelve year old, was the only one in the family that seemed to be adjusting to their new community. This was in spite of the fact that he was the one who was the angriest initially. Timmy had started to act sullen and distant long before they moved here. Jim and Linda attributed it to the stress of puberty. Timmy wasn't very popular, he was a thin, bookish boy, and now that he was at the age when interest in girls start, and sports become important, he was lost. Linda hated to admit it, she felt sorry for him, but he was, after all, a bit of a geek. She knew the kids made fun of him in school, and she hated the idea of her son being treated like that. The move was devastating to him, because he lacked the skills to make any new friends. He spent the first few weeks after they arrived holed up in his room with the stereo on. She wondered what he did in there, the music sounded, well, frightening. The rhythmic hammering of the rap music that he liked felt like an assault, and she knew better than to listen to the words they were saying. Linda ignored this behavior for as long as she could, but finally, when the fear of losing contact with him forever got too unbearable, she pleaded with Jim to do something. She was hoping that Jim would reconsider the whole move, but he came up with the seemingly hopeless idea of making him join the local boy scouts. Jim said it was all they had to work with, he reminded her that Timmy had always enjoyed the scouts back in New York. He liked the hiking, the overnight camping trips upstate, and the small group of friend he had. These were boys like himself that lived on the fringes, boys whose mothers still took them to scout meetings. Friends that he kept right up to the day they moved away. Much to their surprise, after a few weeks of forcing him to go to the local scout meetings, Timmy began to fit in. It was no longer a battle to make him go. He became friendly with several boys. One was Marco, a quiet Hispanic boy who was originally from Chicago. His family moved here about a year ago, so it seemed Timmy and he could relate to one another as relative strangers to the town. Greg was another. A tall, blond-haired athletic boy, he was friendly and outgoing, he seemed to be blessed with all the qualities that Timmy lacked. When Timmy spoke of Greg, Linda could hear an undertone of hero worship. There was another boy they hung around with a lot. His name was Jeremy. Linda had never seen him, and while Timmy seldom spoke of him, she realized that he was always part of their group. And they did talk a lot on the phone. Linda opened the back of the van, and carried the groceries inside. It was mostly snacks and junk food. The scouts were coming over to spend the day with Timmy. This was the first time they visited her home. In fact, it was the first time that anyone else from the town would visit. Now she knew another reason for her warm feelings this afternoon. It was hope, because if Timmy could fit in here, than maybe she could as well. *** The boys were having a good time. They spent a few hours playing basketball in the yard, and then they watched a James Bond movie in Timmy's room. Now Linda was preparing their lunch, cooking hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill outside while they sat around the table on the deck. Everything was going nicely, they all seemed to be having a good time, talking about baseball and a camping trip they would be going on next month. As she stood there, Linda listened to their chatter. She paid particular attention to what Jeremy said, since she didn't know him well. This was the first occasion she had to spend a lot of time around the group, and she noticed that Jeremy seemed to control things. He seemed to be a natural leader, he moved the conversation where he wanted, and she could feel the other three boys fall in line with any opinion he expressed. This surprised her, because while Timmy spoke often of Marco and Greg, he almost never mentioned Jeremy. She glanced at him while she grilled the food. There was something striking about him. He had the angelic looks of a choirboy just before their bodies shed their childhood beauty. His hair was the lightest blond, and it was kept unusually long, falling in gentle waves almost to his shoulders, like a girl's. His skin, though, was darker than you'd expect from his hair, and it had a copper tinge, almost like a Native American's. His face was flat, and overly round. She wondered at his ethnicity, she listened closely to his voice and detected an accent that lurked beneath a generation or two of English. Russian, she thought, but from somewhere far in the East, as if he had Mongolian blood as well. He was the same size as the other boys, maybe even slightly shorter. But his body was covered with small, tight muscles, as if he worked out. He had a certain hyperactive, frenetic energy, always darting about in quick movements, even sitting around the table with the other boys, his hands and his feet were always moving. Linda wondered how his mother ever got him to sleep at night. He had the nervous energy of a dynamo. And, then, while she glanced at him he looked up at her and she met his eyes. Jeremy had the eyes of a reptile, his hard, bullet black pupils were surrounded by light green irises. His dark blond eyebrows swept away from the bridge of his nose like the wings of a hawk. His look seemed to stop time; for a moment the voices of the other boys receded into the background. Indeed the whole world became silent while the small boy studied her. It was just a brief glance, but it seemed to take an eternity. When the boy looked back to his friends Linda's heart clenched in a single, desperate beat, as if her blood had stopped while he studied her. She turned back to the grill, and she felt a few beads of sweat surface on her forehead. "Christ!" she thought, and she realized that she was shaking slightly. She felt an extraordinary anxiety. She felt violated. She knew that something had been taken from her. Timmy and the other boys continued talking and laughing, they hadn't even noticed the momentary exchange. They continued enjoying their lunch, giggling at some private joke. For just a millisecond, Linda wondered if she was the joke, she wondered if her jeans were too tight, if her underwear was showing. She looked down, busily working at the food, but still thinking of Jeremy, the strangeness of that look. She could feel him looking up at her occasionally, but for some reason she didn't dare look at his eyes again. She realized that he was studying her closely. The talk of the boys drifted on to some borderline subjects. Jeremy started talking about some fights that he had in school. Some kids that he beat up. Normally, boys wouldn't talk about things like this within earshot of adults, but Jeremy seemed to lack any such inhibition. Linda listened closely to their conversation, she could hear the hesitation in the voices of Greg, Marco, and especially Timmy. The boys were uncomfortable; they kept looking at her with nervous glances, expecting her to say something. But she was only marginally aware of them - her full being was focused on Jeremy, there was something about him that held her attention in a sort of fascination. Jeremy was describing how he beat up a second grader, how he kept smacking him until he started to cry, and did what Jeremy wanted. His voice was cool and distant; he described the assault in crisp, methodical terms, as if he was describing how he disassembled a toy. Linda hung on every word, rooted in an anxious indecision. Part of her wanted to cry out: "That's not right." But there was something compelling in his talk, he was looking right back at her, and not warily like the other boys. He had a look of smug assurance, like he was hoping Linda would speak, wishing for a test of wills that he knew he would win. Linda was stunned into silence, she just continued wiping the last dish. She found the circular movements of her hand comforting as she listened to him, as she heard the story of what he did to the small child. She felt so strange, especially when she noticed that underneath all her anxiety another feeling was blooming within her: she was becoming intensely aroused. They spent the rest of the afternoon up in Timmy's room. It was unnaturally quiet, she couldn't hear any sounds from his room at all: not the stereo, not the TV, and not even the sound of any voices. The silence felt uneasy, but she knew that she would not investigate, she didn't want to know what they were doing. She just wanted to be away from Jeremy, she needed the distance to regroup, to search herself and find out what it was the boy took from her. She felt so violated; she couldn't stop thinking of his eyes. The way they drilled into her, searched her, she felt like he saw something about her, something so deep and so private that she was only dimly aware of it herself. No, there was something underneath this - there was something about this boy that was extraordinarily attractive. She lay back on the couch, and folded her arms across her chest. She tried to pull herself together. "Maybe it's just me," she thought. She realized that she could never explain this to anyone. After all, nothing really happened - just a quick look from a boy. She'd sound like an idiot. "Yes, maybe it's the guilt, I've been so ... needy lately." Jim hasn't spent an evening home in weeks, she knew from the past that strange things happened within her if she didn't get any. And that would explain the strange arousal, it was the accumulation of weeks of unsatisfied desire. "Yes, that's it." And as she reassured herself, she drifted off to sleep. The footsteps on the stairs woke her. All of them came bounding into the room, they looked like they were out of breath. They seemed so animated. "Bye, Mrs. Wentworth." They were leaving, she noticed that it was getting dark. They scampered out of the room, and as she started pulling herself to a seated position, Jeremy came into the room, alone. "We can come back tomorrow, right?" He caught her in a half-sitting position. She looked up at him and met his eyes. The boy was irresistible, it didn't matter that she had a job interview tomorrow - as soon as he asked her she thought of the lie she would use to postpone it. No, all that mattered was what he wanted. She wanted to say yes, but she was unable to speak the effort to form the words and say them was too much for her, as long as he held her captive. He could see that, she knew. He waited; she wanted to scream from the internal pressure. Finally, he deflected his glance slightly, and she gasped at her chance. "Y-y-yes, OK, you can come over!" Complete in his assurance, he just turned and left. *** For the rest of the night she thought of him. There was something unsettled inside her, as if some inner feelings were rearranged. She wondered if was safe to allow Timmy to play with him, there was something about this boy that sent shivers through Linda. She decided to call one of the other mothers, to see if they shared her reaction. So she called Grace, Greg's mom. She waited a moment or so in the conversation before asking. "What do you think of Jeremy?" There was a measurable silence, before Grace said: "He's got an awful lot of energy, doesn't he?" "I know." Linda picked up on her uncertainty, her hesitation. "When I see him, I think of the movie 'Gremlins.' I almost expect him to spring at me. He springs out of nowhere sometimes. He seems like one those little demons." "Well, not so little really!" Grace jumped in, then stopped, as if she was sorry she said it. "What do you mean?" The line was silent for a long moment, then Grace said, "Nothing, really." Something awkward hung in the air. "Have they been in your pool yet?" "No, why." "Listen, it's going to be hot tomorrow. Why not let them go in your pool?" *** "Mom, why can't I go in the pool?" Cindy asked her for what must have been the twentieth time that day, ever since Tommy called the boys in the morning and told them to wear their bathing suits. Linda was getting angry, even though she knew that the child had nothing else to do. She'd spent every nice day this summer in the pool, but today Linda wanted Timmy and the boys left alone. "I told you, leave Timmy alone with his friends." She let the anger and impatience show, she knew she'd scream at Cindy if she asked again, and she wanted her to know it. Off she went, Linda knew she'd sulk all day but she didn't care. She wanted the boys to have the pool to themselves. Once the boys arrived, they lost no time running through the house and into the backyard. Linda smiled to herself, enjoying their happiness. They tore their clothes off on the patio, stripping down to the bathing suits underneath. Linda watched Jeremy closely, she felt an intense curiosity to see if his body was as interesting as his face and his eyes. She wasn't the only one watching. The other ones were watching Jeremy as well. He was hung like a bull. So that was what Grace meant! The rest of his body still had the shapeliness of a child, the androgynous look of a young boy, a look that was further accentuated by his shoulder length blond hair. But he was packed between his legs. His mother had bought him a tight, shiny bathing suit, a neon green pair that seemed designed to call your attention, and there was a splash of purple color on the crotch that drew the eye. It was so strange, the contrast between his angelic face and the big bulge of flesh between his legs, a thick ridge of meat that looked almost obscene, even covered within his suit. Linda wondered what Jeremy's mother was thinking, calling attention to her son in that way. But then she understood. She looked at Timmy, saw that he'd never be as big as Jeremy, and she knew that if she had a boy like that she'd want the world to see him too. Linda watched them a lot that afternoon. She was fascinated to see the roughness of their play, their unruly wildness. Jeremy was the clear leader of the boys. They spend lots of time roughhousing, Linda spent an awful lot of time at the window. There was something about Jeremy, the way he just took charge, like he was born to get what he wanted. A few times one of the other boys tried to upset the pecking order, and didn't do what Jeremy wanted. Jeremy just walked over to him and put his face right up against the other boys, and each time they backed down. Maybe it was true what they say: the boy with the biggest balls always wins. As often as she looked, she couldn't get over the size of him. She couldn't imagine what he'd be like when he was fully grown. It was the late afternoon when they asked for lunch. Linda served them out on the deck, she wanted them to eat outside because she wanted to see them up close in their bathing suits. Well, not them, no she didn't like scrawny little runts. She wanted to see Jeremy up close. She wasn't disappointed, particularly when she realized that he had a hard on. His bathing suit was stretched tight against his overgrown hammer of flesh. The other boys were sitting at the table, he stood next to his chair it with a towel draped over his shoulders. It was like he was proud of himself, he wanted everyone to see how big he was, especially Linda. She put the sandwich in front of him, her hand was only a foot or so away from him, she had the strangest feeling that the boys were watching her. They were laughing inside, seeing her act like she didn't know him. The guffaws started once she turned her back and headed into the kitchen. She was still cleaning the kitchen an hour later, taking her time because she wanted to be there, where she could look out the window at them. About a half hour later they came inside. Their bathing suits were dry, and they wanted to play video games. She stayed in the kichen, since the game room was right next to it. They were playing Mortal Kombat, she could tell by the way they were talking. "Kick him!" "Rip his heart out!" "Watch this. See the way her blood shoots out!" She felt uneasy. Normally, she and Jim didn't allow that sort of talk in her home. They didn't allow Timmy to play violent video games. She remembered fighting with him about it back in New York, when he was about ten all his friends had games like this, it was all the boys talked about. But she wouldn't let him play, and he started losing his friends because he wasn't allowed to do more "grown up" things like they were. Looking back, she realized that that was when he started to get withdrawn, she wondered if she and Jim were too strict. That was why the only friends he had left were the New York scouts, boys that, in Linda's opinion, were all withdrawn like Timmy, unable to handle the give and take with real boys. Some days, Timmy would come home from school crying because the boys in school made fun of him. She consoled him as best she could, but part of her felt he was too weak, and the thought of a boy his age crying was repulsive to her. So today, she didn't mind hearing the boys get a little crazy. She heard Timmy join in, she listened to Jeremy tell him how to master the game. "No, use your knife, stick it in his neck. Right there." She heard the boys laugh at something particularly gruesome. "Shit! Did you see that!" That was Timmy, and she felt warm inside knowing he was acting just like a real boy. She continued what she was doing, scuttling around the kitchen, listening to the voices inside, fascinated by the rude things they were saying. There was something so ... primitive in their violent speech, the way the boys reveled in the blood and gore. And occasionally, they would fall silent, she could hear whispers, she stopped what she was doing and stood perfectly still, hoping to hear what Jeremy was saying. It seemed so important, she knew they were silent because he was telling them something secret. It was in one of the quiet intervals that he startled her. She had been looking out the window, her mind hovering in the doorway of the kitchen, trying to gauge what they were saying from the tone of the whispers. "Get us some drinks." She flinched when she heard him - Jeremy had startled her. She looked back quickly, just for a brief moment. His eyes drilled into her, she couldn't hold his gaze. She looked back out the window again, and tried to regain her composure. "Did you hear what I said? I said, get us some drinks!" She continued to look out the window, and she had a sense that he was approaching, slowly. His tone, his arrogance, seemed so ... natural, as if the boy knew she'd take it, she'd offer no protest. And he was right, of course. She felt an electric buzz start in her lower body. It felt good, to hear him speak to her this way. It felt so ... right. "OK, I-I-I-ll get some." She still wouldn't look back. "You know ... " He was right behind her now, just a few feet away. "You have a nice ass." The words fell on her like a benediction, the knowledge that the boy liked the shape of her body filled her with a warm, thrilling glow. She felt warm enough to turn around, she looked back over her shoulder, and met his eyes on the way up from her butt. His eyes still had all their brilliance, and she was still frightened. But now the fear of his power was mixed with passion for it. God, this kid must have a pair! He seemed so cocky, like he'd already had dozens of woman. "Yeah, you're the best looking Mom around here. Fuckin' tease too. Wearin' those tight things like that, showing off." He voice was full of contempt, as if she was beneath him, and for some reason this thrilled her. She felt confused inside, realizing that he was right, of course. She'd worn her tight Spandex bottoms today because she felt like it, she wanted to be noticed. She remembered how she felt that morning when she pulled them up into her, the way she turned in the mirror and saw what she wanted. Yes, her ass was still lovely. It was all she thought about while shopping today, loving the dirty second glances she received from men as they wheeled by her in the supermarket. The jealousy of the woman they were with, the way they scanned for a flaw, and the bitterness when they couldn't find any. No, Linda was perfect. She loved the attention she got that morning, she was mad to be approached, to be picked up by one of those unsatisfied husbands, and to be taken out to the parking lot, where she would get the sex she had missed these months. Jeremy saw right into her, he knew how much she wanted it. "Just bring in the drinks." He turned and left suddenly, leaving her standing there in a state of intense arousal. There was something magical about him, the way he just appears out of nowhere. She hadn't felt this way in years. So hot! She felt short of breath, and unsteady on her feet as she filled the glasses with ice, and poured the soda. She could hear the boys inside again, they were giggling and laughing while covering their mouths. Trying to hold the laughter in, as if it there was something wrong about it. Once again, she felt like they were laughing at her, it sounded like Jeremy was telling them all about her. But now it felt ... good, she liked the idea of the boys knowing what a slut she was. Boys that age like woman like me, she thought, a few times today some young teenagers looked at her, and she liked them best of all... Yes, even Timmy, her son, he should know what a tramp she was. She walked into their room, the rattling of the ice in the glasses revealed how shaky she was, how uncertain. She felt like an animal being probed by meat inspectors, the boys stopped giggling when she entered, and she could feel their eyes roam all over her body. Jeremy pointed out something to Marco. It was just the slightest motion of his hand, a nod towards a certain area of her body. Marco got the message, and he saw what Jeremy had first noticed. They grinned at each other. Linda felt almost transparent, part of her wanted to cry out that this was wrong, she shouldn't be doing this. But there was another part too. A part that loved this, a part of her that came alive when she was being checked out in such an obvious manner. It didn't matter that her son was there, this was a pleasure that swept away all inhibitions. So she gave in to it. There was a small table in front of the boys, and she bent down to place the tray of drinks on it. She leaner over lower than she really needed to, knowing that her white silk blouse would hang open, and the boys would see her exposed tits. Oh, this was good! To know they wanted her, to feel the heat of their desire for her. She hadn't felt this alive in years. She stood and walked out of the room. When she entered the kitchen again she felt drained, as if she woke from a dream. "God, that was intense," she thought. Gradually, the voice of the boys came back to her, they were whispering and giggling again, and this time there was no doubt in her mind - Yes, they were talking about her. "Why did I do that?" She almost said it out loud, she felt like a stranger within herself. The wet spot in her panties was her answer. She left the kitchen, and went into the small downstairs bathroom. She almost never went in there, but she couldn't wait to climb the stairs. She sat on the toilet and began to masturbate, rubbing herself like a rabid dog. The boys came racing by, she could hear running footsteps. They were headed upstairs. The little bathroom was under the stairs, they must have realized she was in there as they raced by. Jeremy stopped just outside the door, the others waited midway up the stairs. She was just a foot or two away from him on the on the other side of the door. He knew why she was in there, he knew what he had made her do. And she couldn't stop, even though she knew he could hear gathering rhythm of her breathing. Jeremy said, "Thanks for the drinks." She made a sound of acknowledgement, just a brief exhalation between the passionate breaths, and then she exploded as he ran off laughing *** She couldn't stop thinking about him. There was some primitive attraction to this boy, and it wasn't limited to the size of his cock. No, some secret lurked in his soft facial features. She dreamt about him that night, she woke up the next morning feeling like she was rising to the surface of a deep ocean. He was there someplace within her, someplace far deeper than thought. All she had left was a single dim image from her dream, it was something strange and inexplicable. He was riding some wild animal across a vast plain. He beat it mercilessly to make it go faster, and as it responded, she could see the joyous expression on his young face. She knew from the wetness within her that she was that animal; the beast he was riding so roughly was her, and she loved it. She craved the image of his face, and those strange dark eyes of his. That was his secret: those eyes. They seemed to carry the fire of some faraway Asian steppe. He was born undefiled, still blessed by the power of some blood rite. She couldn't stop thinking of him all morning. In the afternoon, she went to pick up Timmy at summer camp. While she was waiting in the parking lot, she met up with the other mothers. Grace was talking with Lucy, Marco's mom. They were close friends, Linda knew they often went out with their husbands. She was puzzled by their closeness, since they seemed to have nothing in common. Grace was a mail carrier whose husband was unemployed, her body was squat and shapeless from years of hard work. Lucy was an elegant Mexican beauty, she didn't work, since her husband was a senior executive at the same company where Jim worked, and she used her time to work on herself, getting her nails done and her legs waxed. Timmy had told her that they had a maid at their house. Strange, that the two of them were so close, she thought. Linda went over to them. It wasn't the first time she'd approached them when they were together, but it was still a bit awkward, since Linda was new. Still, she was curious to hear anything about the boys. "Grace tells me you had the boys over in the pool yesterday," said Lucy. She was looking at Linda with a curious expression, as if she was fishing for something. "Yeah, it was a hot day." Linda tried to be neutral, matter of fact. "What do you think of Jeremy?" Lucy asked. Linda was caught off guard by her directness. She thought of the way he spoke to her, the contempt. "He's different. There's ... something about him." The way he looked in his bathing suit, the size of the boy. "It's hard to describe, exactly..." Grace jumped in. "Yeah ... it's hard...," she looked over at Lucy. Linda noticed a quick smile between Grace and Linda, it seemed like a private little joke. They both knew exactly what they were thinking of when they said "hard." Them Lucy said: "Guess what. I'm having him for a sleepover Saturday night." She said this to Grace, and Linda thought she saw a cloud of jealousy pass over the other woman's face. Linda was intrigued. A sleepover! The idea, the ... danger of it sent a shiver running through Linda. The though of him in her home, at night. She had an image of him, prowling around while everyone was asleep, maybe sneaking into her bedroom. Lucy continued: "Marco asked me, and I figured it would be OK, since Dan will be away this weekend. " Dan was her husband. "Mmmmm. Bet you're not going to get much sleep Saturday!" Grace said, smiling. It was then that Linda realized the sexual subtext to everything that Grace and Linda said. Dan needed to be away because she expected something to happen... Grace and Lucy seemed to have a secret language between them, a way of talking about Jeremy in sexual terms, while using words and phrases that also an innocent interpretation. Linda was getting that paranoid feeling again, listening to them. She wondered what had happened between the mothers and Jeremy. She could see from their discussion that they spoke of him often, it felt like they were teasing her, talking like that, while making a point of excluding her. The boys filtered out of the camp. She took Timmy, Grace took Greg, and she saw Marco and Jeremy get in Lucy's car. Lucy was dropping him off. Linda thought of offering to drop him off next week, taking him home, seeing what his home and his family looked like. She realized that Jeremy was talking with Lucy. It was strange, because Jeremy was sitting in the front seat with her, even though her son was in the back. They were talking, Lucy and Jeremy. Talking about her, because while Linda just stared ahead, waiting for the car to warm for a moment, she could see them out of the corner of her eye. She knew they were talking about her. She was feeling bold, almost angry, so she turned to face them. She noticed how close Jeremy was sitting to her - there was a subtle intimacy between them. Jeremy looked at her. He said something to Lucy, and Lucy looked at her and ... winked. She felt trapped, caught staring, her filthy thoughts exposed. Timmy cried out in the back as she gunned the accelerator, skidding away. *** He came over again on Friday. It was a cloudy day, Linda was disappointed that they wouldn't be able to use the pool. They spent the day playing basketball. All afternoon she heard the sound of the ball and the scratch of footsteps on the dusty driveway. They were playing right by the laundry room, she could hear them sometimes when they shouted to each other. She glanced out at them occasionally, peering through the curtains on the door, she wanted to watch him without being seen. She loved watching the way he moved. Even though he was an inch or so shorter than Timmy, he was a much better player. He moved like lightening, his long hair flew around his face like the cape of a bullfighter, he was able to easily dart around Timmy, and drive repeatedly to the basket. There was no comparison between them. The redness in Timmy's face told her he was getting frustrated, each successive unanswered basket brought her son closer to tears. Don't cry, she pleaded in her mind. It would be embarrassing, shameful, to see her son crying like a sissy. "Can I play." She hadn't heard Cindy go outside. The boys stopped and looked at her. She could see an idea form in Jeremy's mind, the notion showed in the curl of his lips. "Sure." He nudged Timmy. "Sure, come over here." Cindy walked a little closer to him, slowly though, as if she realized she was unsafe. "Sure, you can play with us." He was grinning, Timmy had a blank look on his face, unsure of himself. "Sure, show us your cunt!" The words jolted her, they sounded so obscene, like thunderbolts inside her. She watched her little girl try to decipher what he said, Cindy just looked up at him, shocked at what he said. She knew it was a bad thing. Linda watched Timmy try to act amused, like he was in on the joke, even though he was as shocked as she was. "C'mon, pull your pants down, lets see it!" He reached for her, she drew back and backed away from him, but still watching him for a moment, until she turned and ran. Linda could hear the back door, and the sounds of her running up her room. She was still looking at Jeremy, he was asking Timmy about his little sister. "Ever see her!" "Yeah." Timmy lied, Linda could see that he was too scared to stand up to Jeremy. He just had a shit-eating grin on his face, scared that Jeremy would turn his contempt, his mockery on him. "What a wuss!" Linda thought with disgust. The realization that her son had no balls filled her with disgust. To stand there and allow someone in his family to be treated like that. She knew Jeremy, knew that he'd turn on Cindy. A boy like that gets what he wants, she thought. She went back to the laundry and they went back to playing ball. The buzzer of the clothes drier made her jump. She emptied it, putting the dry clothes on top, and putting a new load of wet laundry inside it. She started it again, feeling its warmth rise on her as she began to fold the dry clothes. Linda tried to collect her thoughts, preparing the things that she would say to Cindy. She'd explain about boys, how some boys are, well ... aggressive. She wondered if she knew what he meant, she'd explain to her about "cunts" and why boys thought they were the most special things in the world. It was all they thought about, especially boys like Jeremy. And even though boys like that might seem a little scary, those are the ones that are especially nice... She looked up and stopped folding the laundry. A realization rose up within her. She now knew what he had taken from her the other day, why, since that first time he stared at her with those eyes, she'd felt that something was missing inside her. Yes, her moral sense was gone; she'd shed her conscience the way a snake pulls itself free of a husk of dead skin. She saw pleasures in the world she was blind to before. Power was the ultimate thrill; yes, that was what was so damn attractive in Jeremy. The sheer size of his balls was the expression of his power. Such nerve, such audacity! The thought of him breaking Cindy's cherry thrilled her. She knew inside there was a chance for her, a chance to rid her lineage of the weakness she saw in Jim and Timmy. And he was there now, behind her. She wondered how long he had stood watching her, he had approached so silently. He was looking at her, she met his eyes, and felt the same rush of anxiety that she felt before. There was something ... hypnotic about this boy. He was in his shorts, his sweat drenched T-shirt clung to his body. She wanted to look down, and see how big he looked in his shorts, but she was unable to look away from those eyes. He was talking to her, she knew his lips were moving, but it seemed like he was speaking a different language. He dropped his eyes, looking down at her body. She felt like she could breath again, and she said, "w-w-w-what did you say?" He was looking at the pile of folded laundry. He looked back at her, and said, "What are you, like, stupid, or something?" She knew what he had just said, but he was looking at her, she was unable to answer. She started to panic, because she knew that as long as he started at her, she'd be unable to breathe. There was a pile of her lingerie on the top of the washer. That was what he was looking at these times he looked away, and allowed her to breathe. He stepped over to the washer, and started to inspect her things. She started to cry out, she started to open her mouth and scream, "How dare you!" But she stopped herself. There were panties, garter straps, black lace bustiers, and even a lace catsuit, all of the private things, the secret games she shared with her husband ... back when he cared for her. She washed them today, she'd been feeling so sexy this past week, she wanted wear them again. She had folded them all, getting them ready to be put away in her special drawer. The boy picked up each item, and felt its material, rubbing the cloth between his thumb and forefinger. Linda noticed now how long and slender his fingers were, the sight of him feeling the material did something to her, it moved her in strange ways. There was something so ... intimate, watching this boy go through her private things, and seeing the type of woman she really was. "You like wearing this stuff." He was looking at her, he knew what she was like. The feeling was strange, unearthly, she realized that she liked having Jeremy look at her this way. His contempt lit a fuse within her. She liked the fact that he could see ... her secrets. "M-m-y husband likes me to ... dress up, for him." Near the bottom of the pile was her favorite article, a pair of pink, satin panties with little girl ruffles on the ass, and a big hole in the front. Jim loved those, he had a thing about little girls, and Linda didn't mind going along with it, because he got a look in his eyes that took her breath away. Sometimes back in New York she'd wait for him at night with these panties on underneath a short schooolgirl uniform. She'd put on knee socks, and put ribbons in her hair. She loved getting him all hot, using his fetishes to get what she wanted. "These are your favorite." He looked at her, once again those eyes drilled into her soul, but now the feeling was different inside her. The boy could see right through her. "You like wearing these because you liked to get ... fucked." God, she felt like a trapped animal, so helpless, unable to look away, even though he was pawing through her very soul. It felt ... so good, so fucking good! She started flowing. "You'll do anything to get it, to get a man interested in you." He held the satin, little-girl panties in one hand, the open crotch was spread out on his palm, making its intent obvious, like an embarrassing joke. Oh, God! And then he did something magical. He took his forefinger and touched the panties, on the spot above the open crotch where her clit would be. When he touched the panties, a spark flew up inside her, right ... there. He was looking at her as he did this, checking to be sure he got the right spot. Her lips trembled. "Yeah, you'd do anything to get it," he said. He started moving his finger. "You're fuckin' desperate." The movement of his fingers and the crude, obscene things he said opened a river of feeling inside her, she could feel his touch arousing her. It had been years since she'd been this ... thrilled, and his manner, his meanness, only added to it, as he knew it would. There was something ... delicious in the mixture of his gentle, teasing fingers and the mean nasty things he said to her. "Yeah, you're getting old, he's really not interested in you anymore...." His eyes were black like night, the little demon with the angel face could see all her inner needs, her desperation. She knew where he was going, it was clear that she got off on ... humiliation. She started to tremble. "...So you put on stuff like this..." He continued to rub her panties with that magic finger of his, in .... exactly ... the ... right ... way. She could feel it, tracing the outside of her clit, her swollen knob. Oh, she loved his touch, and the hiss of his cruel voice. "...so he'll notice you!" The words were like a potion, a spell, that made her dizzy. She started to bend over, growing so excited, so wet inside that she had to clench her knees and thighs to stop them from shaking. She started to slump down, sliding her back down the front of the washer. "Yeah, he thinks you look stupid, but he gets off knowing how bad you want it." That was it! That was the look in Jim's eyes, it was a look of ... contempt. The same contempt that Jeremy had now. She looked up at the boy, he was smiling, looking down at her like she was some creature in a zoo. "You dress up in these silly things, and even that doesn't make him want you..." Oh, it was getting too intense, she wanted to shout out to Jeremy, ask him to stop, she was afraid that the excitement, the thrill of knowing what a whore she was, would kill her. "No, you have to lick his asshole to get him up." She was sitting on the floor now, her juices were running freely out of her body. He knew all about the last time Jim fucked her, the night he arrived home, exhausted, and the desperation she felt. She looked up at Jeremy, waiting for him to say it. She knew if he would say ... it, it would get her off, just the words, his cruel voice would do it. She'd pop her cork. "Ever hear of .... mercy fuck!" He started to snicker, and turned his back on her, leaving her there, cumming, uncontrollably like a dog. She lay there a few minutes, recovering. From what, she couldn't understand. She felt like someone different now, laying there on the floor. She had the strongest feeling that she just ... imagined what had just happened. It was so strange, the way Jeremy could look inside her and see the secret switches of her desire. She knew he would get anything he wanted in the world, that no woman could resist the force of his magic. He will live like King Soloman. He will have a thousand wives. === She was in heat the next few days. She couldn't go an hour without masturbating - it became almost embarassing. She'd be shopping at the mall, or driving the car, when the image of Jeremy's face would flare up within her. She'd think of those eyes, the knowledge they held. If she was in the mall, she'd head for a bathroom; if she was driving, she'd pull over to the side of the road. Anything, for that moment of private communion. She would imagine him on top of her. His eyes would stop her mind, stop her from feeling the pain of his huge member stretching her insides. It was too exquisite for words, the promise of him doing that. He'd push into a place deeper than prayer, and find the flesh that would receive his seed. She'd have him then forever; she'd hold him within her. She would be the mother of his line, and though the birth would kill her she'd live forever through their marauding, relentless progeny. So she would have him. But he stopped coming to her house, A week went by without seeing him. The boys spent each day at Greg or Marco's house. She would have him. On the morning of the last day the heat of the sun on her body awakened her. She was sleeping on the balcony outside her bedroom window - she couldn't stand to sleep with Jim anymore. She found him a weak, worthless man, the thought of even incidental contact with his body disgusted her. So she spent her nights on the balcony, loving the heavy night air, the wild call of the crickets. This morning the sun felt unusually hot, and as she watched the fog lift off the surface of the pool, she considered the prospect of another day of unsatisfied desire. No. She went into Timmy's room. She shook him awake, and asked him where the boys would go today. "Greg's," he said, half asleep. She sat in the kitchen, and waited until she felt could call without making Grace mad. It was eight o'clock when she finally called Grace. After some small talk, Linda came to the point. "I was wondering if the boys could come to my house today? It's supposed to be real hot today, and they could use our pool." "Yeah, that might be nice..." Grace seemed to pause for a moment, as if she wanted to say something, but wasn't sure. There was an awkward silence, before she resumed. "They've been over here yesterday and today. That Jeremy just has me all bothered." There it was again, that undertone in her talk of him. On one level, it was just a normal complaint of a mother, with a rambunctious boy in her house. "Mmmm, I can imagine." Linda wanted to play along. "Two days with him around." Grace kept the volley going. "Lucy had him for a sleepover last weekend!" "Oh, shit! I bet she didn't get any sleep at all!" Linda felt a devilish excitement, playing along with the hints letting Grace know that yes, she understood, she knew the secret of this boy. She felt like a teenager again, talking with her friends about some older boy, hinting at things, even though the friends you were talking with knew nothing about sex, and neither did you. What you did know about was this feeling, this nameless tingle you felt. Grace laughed. "You should have seen her the next day! She said he really worked her over." She let that hang in the air for a few seconds, and then said, "... but seriously, I know what you're thinking. You shouldn't rush." The words startled Linda, she felt a twinge of anger. A little petty thought rose in her: Why shouldn't I have him too? Then curiosity surfaced, she wanted to know one thing. "Is he ... good?" "Girl," Grace said, "you have no fuckin' idea!" *** They came about 11 o'clock, and from the first moment she saw Jeremy a new channel opened between them. He could see the change in her. Now she held his eyes when he looked at her; even though she couldn't breathe, even though she felt the anxiety of his power well up in her like a sickness, she held his eyes. "Take me," she said, with her eyes. She was wearing the tight shorts he made fun of the last time, and she had a bikini top on. Greg and Marco ran their eyes along her exposed flesh, but Jeremy seemed uninterested. He just kept looking back at Linda - the lack of interest on his part only made him seem stronger, more desirable to her. They went out in the pool about noon. The boys were wired today, all she heard from inside the house were shouts and curses. There was madness in the air. She spent a long time in the laundry room, hoping he would magically appear, as he did those other times. She was frantic in her desire, her imagination of what he would do this time. But no, he was teasing her with his coolness. She left the laundry room and went back into the kitchen, where she could wait at the window, and look at him. She studied his body, the way he moved thrilled her, and she imagined what he would feel like... "Mommy, can I go outside in the pool" Linda turned and looked sharply at Cindy. She was just about to yell at her daughter for disturbing her, catching her .... doing what? Looking out the window? Linda wondered why she felt so guilty, so ashamed. She caught herself, stopped herself from shouting before she finished her first breath. She looked down at Cindy. She was already in her bathing suit, the little eight year old was wearing her two-piece suit, the one that Linda had planned on throwing away because it was too small for her. Cindy had worn it since she was about six. The bottom especially was now completely inappropriate. It was a small child's suit, a little white whisper covered with strawberries and cherries, and now that she was bigger it pulled deep into the crack of her ass, looking more like a thong than a child's bathing suit. She didn't even have any visible tan lines on her butt, since so much of her had been open to the sun all summer. Linda looked outside at the boys, they were burning up some energy, splashing each other with water. Jeremy was dunking Marco. Marco was trying to get away, but Jeremy was too quick, he'd let Marco get a step or two away, teasing him, then he'd pounce on him like a cat, and push his head under the water, pushing with both hands, and holding Marco underwater. Jeremy had a bright smile on his face, doing this seemed to give him a thrill. Linda could see that Marco was crying. Something about the scene fascinated her. She realized that her crotch was burning, the sight of Jeremy was getting her excited... "Mommy, can I?" She'd forgotten about Cindy, she'd been far away watching Jeremy and Marco. "OK, sweetie." Anything to stop being bothered! Cindy turned to go, Linda looked down at her as she turned away, she saw her little girls ass, the little brown scoops, so cute, so ... sexual, and she realized that the boys would notice her too. Cindy's little brown butt begged for attention. Linda knew that something would happen - Cindy shouldn't be anywhere near ... him. But Cindy was already out the door. But instead of following her, and bringing her back inside, Linda stopped. She just stood still for a moment, feeling confused, and lost. Finally she started back to the window. She thought to herself that she could explain this, explain why she let her daughter go outside in the pool. Why shouldn't she? After all, they were just children. What could happen? She told herself that as she got a chair from the kitchen table, and brought it over to the window. She sat and adjusted it so she could see it all. What followed was like a scene from a nature show, a show about animal behavior in the wild. Jeremy poked the other boys and pointed to her approaching the pool. They stopped talking and watched Cindy climb up on the diving board and jump in. When she surfaced, she swam to the other end of the pool, away from the boys. Her backside was in full view on the surface of the water, the mid afternoon sun shimmered on the wet surface of her cheeks. Jeremy was saying something, and the other boys were laughing. When she got to the other end of the pool, Jeremy said something to her. He probably asked her to do it again. Cindy walked back to the diving board and did as he asked, not realizing what was happening, just having innocent fun. Linda's heart was racing. She knew what would happen, but she couldn't rouse herself from the window. She felt a feeling between her legs that she had long forgotton, since primitive lust came alive in her body. She wanted to watch it happen. Cindy dove off the diving board, but this time the boys stopped watching and dove into the water. Cindy surfaced, and the three boys popped up around her. They pressed close against her, trapping her against their bodies, pulling her along with them as they paddled toward the shallow end of the pool. Linda could see the initial look of surprise on Cindy's face, followed by fear, as she realized that the boys were going to do something to her. The phone rang, but Linda wasn't about to move. She sat still, as if the slightest movement might disturb the progress of what had to happen. Jeremy pressed up close against Cindy, driving her against Timmy and Marco, who then held her arms. Jeremy said something to Timmy, and Timmy reached his other arm around Cindy, and held his hand over his sister's mouth. Linda could see the fright on the little girl' face, and with the fright, she could feel her juices flowing from arousal, her clit was like a knob of bright fire in her body. Linda's phone machine answered. She could hear Lucy's voice, she must have talked with Grace: "...Ummm, you know, they're supposed to come over my house tomorrow. Umm, I have a pool so even if its hot, there's no reason they shouldn't come..." That stuck-up bitch! She just had him for a full night! Linda tuned her out and went back to what happening. The children were standing in the shallow water now. The water came up to their belly buttons; streams of water ran from their hair down their torsos. Jeremy had one hand on Cindy's head, he had a full shock of her hair, and he appeared to be pulling it; Linda could see the clench of his forearms and the strain in Cindy's eyes. His other hand was below the surface of the water, Linda couldn't see it because the movements of Cindy's body was agitating it so, sending concentric ripples outward across the surface of the pool. Lucy droned on, but she seemed so distant, so far away. Linda had her hand on her clit, rubbing herself, feeling like she was going to cry from excitement. Jeremy stopped moving, he leaned close to Cindy, and said something to her, and the other boys. The children started to leave the pool. Timmy and Marco were still holding Cindy. They walked away from the house, Cindy's little bathing suit bottom was halfway down her legs, she had trouble walking because it was catching on her thighs. She was struggling, the boys held her arms tightly, she'd pull from one to the other, but it was no use. Marco was feeling her ass with his free hand. Her brother and his friend were dragging her, and Linda knew they were going behind the shed. She wouldn't be able to watch! Jeremy followed the boys, and as they turned out of sight behind the shed, he turned around and looked directly towards the house, at the window where Linda was seated. Once again his eyes snared her, Linda felt so helpless in the gaze of this boy. He seemed so powerful, so strong. And then she saw his cock, the boy had a huge shaft of meat arching out the side of his bathing suit, it was as hard as a rock, and so fat that Linda's mouth dropped in wonder. Jeremy smiled up at her, he grabbed his big thing with his hand, and wagged his tongue obscenely. Linda came for the first time, and she knew that Jeremy could tell. He turned and walked around the back of the shed, out of sight. After a moment, Timmy and Marco came back where Linda could see them, but they stayed near the corner of the shed so they could watch what Jeremy was doing to Cindy. Linda could see the drama in the reaction of the boys, the way their little cocks stiffened in their suits, and the way they started laughing among themselves. Linda was mad to know what was happening, her imagination of the horrible things that were happening to Cindy lit a charge deep within her body. She started rubbing herself madly. And she came for the second time. Jeremy reappeared sometime later. He was finished. Colors were fading in the late afternoon. Jeremy and the other boys walked back to the pool, talking excitedly among themselves. They weren't boys anymore. Cindy wasn't with them. The boys went back into the pool, but relaxed in the shallow end, lying back peacefully on the steps. Jeremy was telling them all about it, Timmy and Marco were hanging on every word that Jeremy said. He'd look up at Linda every so often, seeing that she was still there. The water of the pool was absolutely still. She could see the dark outline of their young bodies beneath the glassy water. And then, in the stillness, came the most erotic vision she'd ever seen. Cindy appeared around the corner of the shed, staggering slightly. She was naked, and covered with mud, and there were dozens of small red scrape marks all along her torso and legs. Her strawberry blond hair was streaked with black dirt, it hung around her face, hiding her expression. All Linda could see were her eyes. Cindy's eyes glared white from behind the dirty hair, she looked like a wild animal, some creature that had its soul devoured by a predator. She continued to walk towards the pool, growing steadier on her feet. The boys saw her coming, they stopped talking and watched her, calmly. Cindy walked towards the head of the pool, and walked out on the diving board, slowly, knowing the boys were there, and knowing they were watching her. She paused on the edge, and leaped high off the board, knifing into the surface in a clean cut down into the deep water, out of sight in the darkness. When she broke the surface she was clean again, she started swimming easily, languidly; once again her ass shone wet and glorious in the water, lit this time by a dimmer sun. He was waiting for her, he knew she would come to him. He gathered the child in his arms and lifted he out of the water, she clung to Jeremy as her lover, she was his now. He sat her on the side of the pool, he stood against her in the shallow water with his back to Linda. He entered her again, this time easily, Linda could see the smile on her little girls face. Cindy was looking up at her, she knew that Jeremy was whispering in her ear telling the child her that mother had been watching, mother had seen what he did, and it was good. That did it. Linda exploded for the last time, continuing to rub the swamp between her legs until every last sinful thrill was wrenched from her body. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the chair, exhausted, drained of all feeling except the peace of satiety. When she opened them, it was dark, her first sensation was the wetness between her legs. She felt cold there now. She had no idea how long she slept, the children were still outside, and they were acting ... like children. They were playing ball in the water, some sort of pool game, they were splashing happily in the bright water, their bodies lit against the underwater lights. Cindy had her bathing suit back on. Was it a dream? The events she witnessed had all the intensity, the erotic charge of a dream. It was so personal; it seemed to speak to something deep inside her. Yes, she told herself, she must have wet herself dreaming. Cindy and the boys came into the house, and went upstairs to change. They were talking laughing, running throughout the house, she could hear them all up in Timmy's room. All of them? Linda realized that Cindy was with them, changing, she could hear muffled laughter and giggling, so innocent, like it was the most natural thing in the world for a little girl to strip her wet bathing suit off in front of her brother and his friends. Something was different, Linda knew. She felt dizzy, as if she was in another world all of a sudden. They came downstairs for a snack while they were waiting for Jeremy and Marco to be picked up. Linda baked them some pizza rolls, the children sat around the table and giggled, enjoying some private jokes between them. Linda listened carefully with her back to them. She caught a fleeting image at the edge of her vision of Cindy reaching her hand into Jeremy's pants. She turned around, Cindy was leaning against Jeremy. He was looking at Linda. Those eyes again, they spoke to her and told her what she must do. She wanted to scream at him: "Touch me!", to beg him to touch her on her special spot, she was burning inside. But she was unable to. It took every effort of will on her part just to breathe, just to hold onto life while this little demon pawed her ass. "You're going to go upstairs and wait for me." She wasn't sure whether he said the words out loud, or whether he spoke them directly into her mind. It didn't matter. No, he had told her, told her to do something. She may as well try to resist an avalanche, his will was so strong, so compelling for her. So she walked out of the kitchen, hoping that if she did as she was told, he'd do it, he'd touch her ... there. So she climbed the stairs, or rather her body did it. She felt like a bystander, just watching herself, feeling like someone else was moving her limbs, as if she was traveling in a dream. But the feeling inside was hers, and no one else's, a fire was lit inside her, a fire she hadn't felt the warmth of ... for years. When she got to her room, she closed the door behind her. She lay on her bed, knowing somehow that that was what she was supposed to do. She waited. Her mind was a complete blank, she found it difficult to formulate a thought. Soon, he opened the door. He stood looking at her a long while, his eyes roving around the room, looking at the things she shared with her husband. She lay there, aching, wanting to cry out, to scream "For God's sake, just do it." But she didn't, the boy was not to be rushed in his unholy work. On her husband's nightstand was a series of pictures, pictures of their life together. Rather than attend to her, Jeremy just looked at them, picking up each picture, studying it carefully. Linda felt like she would scream from desire, but she was unable to move in his presence, or do anything that he wouldn't allow. She just lay there, watching him. He'd look at the picture, then look at her, and she had the maddening feeling that he could read the history of her and Jim's relationship. "He doesn't excite you anymore." It was a simple statement, and Linda knew once he said it that she was irretrievably his. The boy knew her, knew her private, unspoken disappointments in life. It was so true. For a few brief months after they were married, Jim and Linda were like animals, discovering each other, teasing each other, playing their bodies like musical instruments. But with the years, and the stress of working, his strength was gone. Jim had lost his balls, and that was everything to Linda. "Spread your legs" She did, of course. It felt so delicious to, to ... give in, to do whatever he said. So she opened herself as wide as she would go pulling her knees back with her elbows, feeling like those woman in that magazine that Jim liked. Hustler, that was the one, the one where the woman even held their vaginal lips apart, so you could see their pink insides. They all had such lovely pussies, they all seemed to be nineteen, with skin that seemed to vibrate, to glow from the perpetual summer sun that burned just for them. She wanted Jeremy to see her like that. She wanted to be that ... good... for him, it was so terribly important to please this boy. When he touched her, she started to cry. The feel of his fingers on her lips was so exquisite. She felt a surge of desire that was like a wave building. The boy felt along the inside of her lips, rubbing his long, sensuous fingers along her crevice, feeling its texture, like he was conducting a scientific survey. The feeling was unbearable for Linda, she thought she would die from desire, so she struggled to say something, the animal that was growling beneath her skin let up for a moment, just long enough to spit out the single word: "Please." He knew what she wanted, she wanted him to enter her, to pull down his pants and enter her - she had to have this boy. "In time. First I need to ... inspect you." He looked from her pussy into her eyes, she saw his eyes through her tear stroked vision. It was like looking directly into the sun. Just make it quick, she thought. He pushed his fingers inside her, the long slender fingers felt their way inside her love channel. He kept staring at her as he did this, her eyes were locked within his gaze. She couldn't look away. His fingers explored her inside, every few seconds he would locate a certain spot and ... study it, by moving his fingers around softly, playfully, watching the reaction in her eyes to his touch. He saw everything, her life was laid open to him. In a few moments of this, her life, her history was laid open for the boy. "Please..." She said it again, knowing he would't be rushed, it was all she could do to force that single word out of her lungs. She felt like he was devouring her, she had the clear impression that he had all his fingers inside her. No, that wasn't it. Looking into his eyes she knew what it was. The boy was ... fisting her! He was in up to his forearm, he was reaching into inner pleasure zones she never knew she had. "Please, please ... let ... me... come!" There she said it, she said the words, it had seemed terribly important to say them, to make her subjugation complete. She was an offering to him, she existed for his amusement. "Cindy was great." Oh, the nastiness of it! The evil heart of his opened her insides like a flower. "You're daughter has the sweetest pussy. Just ... like ... yours!" She wondered what long forgotton God had returned in his eyes. "I pumped her full of my stuff!" He clenched his fist inside her, stretching her sides, filling her channel with rings of pain. He was hurting her, she could see his eyes search for her reaction to the pain. "That little cunt will have my baby!" It was the first time she had seen him smile up close. He was moving his hand, pushing and pulling it within her, spreading waves of pleasure all through her body. "You wouldn't do anything to my baby, would you?" He stopped his motion, waiting for the sign he wanted. "N-n-no!" Anything, anything to get him moving inside her. "I want ... her ... to have it!" As he started moving again, she knew she was here. He was watching her, waiting for the right moment. She realized he was holding her, holding her there in the zone he wanted. "Yeah, sure, you wouldn't do anything..." He leaned closer to her, and as he did so he started squeezing her nipple with his other hand, he needed to introduce some pain as well. "O-h-h-h-h!" She was right ... there ... now - the pain added just the edge that she needed. "No, you wouldn't do anything to make me mad. But daddy, no, her daddy might harm the baby. Daddy will have to be ... taken care of." He saw that she didn't care, what happened to Jim meant nothing now. "Please..." she said once again, all she wanted was for him to bring her off. She looked at him, his eyes were burning hot; he was holding her there, on the edge waiting. He wanted her to say it. She let it go. "We'll kill him if we need to!" And with the words came her release, her body vibrated with waves of pleasure as he let her go at last. *** They had him killed a few weeks later. Whispers hovered in the room like buzzing dragonflies. Linda sat alone in a small couch on the side. She was glad for the thick mascara, glad for the streaks of dried tears on her cheeks. Yes, the expectations of the dumb and unknowing must be satisfied. They were all so sorry when they came up to her, so sorry for her loss. They wouldn't leave her alone, she'd be screaming inside for them to just get the hell away from her. But no, they'd stay and console her, and Linda knew it was a balm more for them than for her. Yes, the earth is still in its orbit, widows still mourn for their husbands. The ones that knew approached with practiced, almost theatrical dignity, and when they reached her they offered a simple, crisp statement of regrets before moving on. Linda recognized many of them, not from town, but from the newspaper and television. They took their seats like everyone else; filling the numerous rows of folding chairs that started behind Linda and spilled out into the foyer. Linda heard her enter. The low murmurs stopped; Cindy walked into the room like the child she was, completely unaware of the sudden stillness that she caused. All conversaion stopped. She sat quietly on a couch across the room from Linda, and stared blankly at the casket that held her father. No one spoke; no one approached the child; no one dared. The Angel had taken her. ####################################################### I'd love to here from you, no matter what you thought of my story. Comments and story ideas are welcome at: Pervitron@Hotmail.com /files/Authors/Pervitron/ #######################################################