Message-ID: <54883asstr$1163351401@assm.asstr.org>
From: "Sean Farragher" <seanfarragher@hotmail.com>
Thread-Index: AccGCS1mcZS+9vt6Re6fMph4esqAVQAAGu4g
Subject: {ASSM} Mother and Her Cannibals (A Novel in progress)  Slow, Incest  -- Chapter two
Lines: 557
Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2006 12:10:01 -0500
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
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  _____  

Mother and her Cannibals
Novel-in-Progress
C 2007 Sean Farragher All Rights Reserved
 <http://seanfarragher.com/> http://seanfarragher.com
and  <http://seanfarragher.com/cannibals> http://seanfarragher.com/cannibals
BLOG:  <http://farragher-conversations.blogspot.com/>
http://farragher-conversations.blogspot.com/

 

 

Chapter 02

 

Joe had not slept for twenty-four hours. When he had first pulled into the
parking lot of the Interstate Rest Area he planned to piss in an oversized
Pepsi bottle, sit calmly, rest and then immediately get on the road. 

After Crystal danced and said hello a second time, he wasn't certain what to
do. He remembered the name she had used earlier. 

Five feet from his car Crystal and her mother sat eating potato chips and
drinking beer. They had several large boxes and a cooler, but nothing else.

The child was beautiful, but as she stood there tall and slender, she was a
subtle painting of opposites. What was odd, Crystal wore red lip-gloss and
eyeliner that had worn off. Strangely, they made her look younger and not
older. 

You can only imagine the perfect eight-year old child when you actually see
her. Forget that Crystal needed a week in a bath. It was an oppressively hot
day, and you could see her over-sized nipples through her very thin cotton
shirt decorated with crayons and permanent markers. One word spelled "FUK"
stood out and extended from the bottom of the shirt to the collar. 

Joe couldn't help staring at the child's legs. The shirt hung low, and Joe
was not sure if that is all she wore besides worn brown sandals with broken
straps. When Crystal shuffled in the dirt over the hot macadam parking lot,
Joe wondered how she didn't lose her sandals and burn her feet.

The girl could certainly move. Quickly she pushed her face against the glass
window of Joe's car. 

He looked carefully at her gray blue eyes, mid-back strawberry blond hair
and perfectly oval face. Ironically, you would see her features in a shampoo
commercial. Ninety-nine and ninety-nine percent pure.

It was more than the looks, and Joe later thought of this. I only saw her
for a brief moment and I felt her body push at me. I knew she wanted to be
held and cherished. She wanted pleasure. He was immediately afraid of her,
and yet he knew her from another time and place. She made me hard and
swollen and I immediately felt his breath quicken. He couldn't help but tug
at his cock through his pant in the car while he watched mother and child
perform.

Crystal reminded him of a girl named Sheila. He was seventeen, and she was
eleven. At first he had seen Sheila as a pest, but within months he had
taught her to swim and she touched his cock out by the rafts on the lake. No
one believed it had come from her. They were never caught, but two years
later Sheila ran away from home. She had asked Joe to join him. He was home
during Christmas break. He refused, and never saw her again. In all of Joe's
memories of children, the child instigated the sexual play. Joe never called
it abuse. He said there is no pain only pleasure. Of course, he truly didn't
understand it all, and for a well educated man knew every road to
rationalization.

Sometimes when your mind is busy you forget that you have to piss, but
suddenly he came back, and Joe couldn't hold it. 

He studied Crystal and her mother. He didn't want to pull away, and he
couldn't move. He sat there with the Pepsi bottle. He was ready to use it
when he gained control. 

Crystal knocked on the window of the car. Joe lowered it.

"Why you making faces? You gotta pee." 

"Don't mind the girl," the mother said. "She asks the dumbest things."

Crystal stood hands on hips and smiled. She turned her head from one side to
another and Joe didn't know what to say.

"I have to go to the men's room."

"You're funny. It's right over there."

"I know, but I have a problem and I don't think I can make it. I was going
to use the bottle."

Joe shows her the wide mouth of the Pepsi bottle, and cannot believe he has
had this conversation. 

"You must have a big one, Mr." the mother laughed.

"Are you kidding Joe looks at the bleached blond thirty something woman and
opens his car door, but doesn't get out."

"What's you name Mr.?" the mother asks.

"It's Joe." He says it but is clearly distracted.

Crystal opens the car door more. She seems interested. She stares at his
crotch.

"I'll show you where," she said. She offers her hand.

Crystal's mother laughed. "Mr. my girl is something."

"Maybe if you just go over there I can pee in the bottle," Joe said.

The mother laughed. "She got other shit in mind Mr."

The mother's laughter frightened Joe. She didn't seem to mind that her eight
year old daughter was talking to an old man about pissing. 

Now, he had to go to the urinal. Someone else might think he was exposing
himself. He could pee at the next rest stop, or walk to the restrooms and
vending machines. He got out of the car, locked it, and true to form Crystal
took his hand and the mother followed along. 

Half way to the urinals the oppressive heat knocked him out. He staggered in
the heat. It reminded him of the dry season in Nam. In a way, he felt like
he was entering a kill zone. He knew he could not leave without finding out
more about Crystal. She invited him with her long smile, darting eyes, soft
and easy, and her arms and legs in motion swayed from side to side. Even the
child's mother had in a brief moment acknowledged him by asking for a
cigarette. Joe didn't smoke, but an old girlfriend had left a pack in a red
overnight case in his trunk. He told her he would get them when she got
back. 

Joe, I am hard up for a cig, and I can get them. I won't steal. You can
trust me with the key, and Joe gave the mother the keys, and she raced back
like a schoolgirl after her smokes.

Joe walked slowly now to the rest room. He had terrible fear that the child
would follow him inside. Fortunately, there was a teenage boy hanging out.
The youngster was smoking and he watched Joe and Crystal walk up the path.
He kept spitting and jerking his head back and forth. Crystal told Joe that
the boy was a "tweaker." 

"What's up the boy said?" 

Joe stopped but didn't talk to the boy. He walked quickly to the restroom. 

He wondered who used these foul toilets. No one bothered to clean them. 

Joe wondered if the girl's side was cleaner. Men are such slobs, and then
when he finished he smiled as he passed, but now it was too late. He tried
to clean up. He couldn't stop thinking about her and when he noticed a
bloody towel resting on one of the stopped up sinks, he raced out of the
toilet washing his hands quickly. 

Blood leaking in piss stained water made him think about some lines from his
novel. Joe looked at his chin in the mirror. He had scratched it earlier. 

 

**

 

Crystal smiled and turned her head as she did when she said hello. 

"Who you?" She said to the boy as she waited for Joe.

"Fuck you kid. Who'd fuck?"

"Can't you see? I'm a girl."

"You got no tits. Just like my little sister no pussy either."

"I am eight pimple face," she said.

The boy took a quick swing at the child but she moved too fast. Crystal
taunted him. Joe asked what was going on, but Crystal called out that she
was OK.

He thought about Crystal as he sat on the only clean toilet. He listened to
her handle that boy.  She's tough.

"Fuck this!" the boy put his cigarette out, and ran down the path to the
parking lot. Almost immediately a car pulled up, and the boy was gone.

Joe asked Crystal what she knew about him. 

"One Big Zero."

She said it dramatically making a zero with her fingers and dancing around
Joe. "Aren't you glad we're not Zeroes?"

Crystal startled Joe with that bit of philosophy. Joe relaxed. The boy
barely a blip on some distant radar had upset Joe, and he wasn't sure why,
but what the fuck.

 

**

 

 "You done?" Crystal asked as they sat at another picnic table.

"Child, who are you my mother?"

"No, I'm your girlfriend."   

Joe laughed and put his arm around her shoulder. It was such a natural thing
to do, and she took his hand in hers, and skipped and jumped a bit.

 

**

 

Who are they? Now, Joe was happy he had stopped here. Joe loved history
because he fed over the private complexity of people. There have been many
beautiful women in Joe's life, and Crystal was one of them. It didn't matter
what she wore. Her age did not matter. She carried herself as with the pulse
and quickening of sex. She held another child in her lap that wished to arch
her back and expose her sex for all to view. How could she help herself? Joe
learned those were the lesson her mother Marilyn had taught her.

 

 

Crystal caught Joe starring at her. She faked a face and bounced around the
vending machines. She puts her hands on her hips and smiled and then fell on
the ground in front of Joe. 

 

"What ya doing dude," she said. She put her elbows on his knees where he
sat. Joe said nothing. He was frozen in place.

"You got any food mister?"

"Not much in the car, but I can stop before I let you off for some Mickey
De's

"What is in these machines?" Joe asked.

"Don't you fucking beg, Crystal?"

Joe turns to Crystal's mother who had finally walked back with the keys
having smoked all the cigarettes. She said there was only four. 

I can help you out. I couldn't help but hear. I mean no harm. 

Joe hands Crystal four quarters and she runs to the machine.

"We're fine," she whispers. "What's a rich boy like you doing out here?"

"I have a niece named Crystal," Joe lied. "She hates the name."

"Why? I love it. What's yours?" 

"Joe, but then have another name I hate."

 

Crystal sits on Joe's knee. Crystal's mother searches in a bag and finds
clothes for Crystal.

"Pastor says I am clear as an organ"

"I am clear like Ma's diamond before she found out it was faked."

Crystal's Mother watched Joe and her daughter as if she were in a theater. 

"Mama, you got a dollar?"

"No, just the five I got. That fucker left us with nothing."

"I saw some quarters in your purse."

"Girl, you stay out, hear?"

"No cigarettes. Nasty things."

"Shut up!"  The child put her hand up in front of her face as if to block
the sight of her mother.

"Sometimes you let me."

"Stop your fucking whining. I get enough of that from Jane and Breeze."

Joe heard the name Crystal again, and now he realized he could not ignore
her.

Joe got up, and put a dollar in the vending machine. The machine took his
money and another soft summer wilted Hershey bar sank down to the well. He
put another bill in the draw, and a box of Mike & Ike's dropped. 

When Joe retrieved them, he wasn't sure if he should give the candy to the
girl. After he used the machines, the girl and her mother tilted the vending
machines at odd angles to try to get free food. Joe walked closer and leaned
against the broken door of a second Coke machine. Crystal heard that
distinctive sound of a coke bottle released by its machine when Joe put a
dollar in the other machine.

Joe handed the candy to the mother.

"Here, I am not going to eat this, but give it to her."

He thought that would be an appropriate protocol.

"Just what I need for my zits," Marilyn threw her hands up when Crystal
laughed real loud mocking her mother.

"You should talk Crystal. I saw you fucking zit face Paul. He said you blow
all the guys when I work at the Veterans Home."

"At least they pay me. You have to pay them."

"When are you going to pay me.?"

By the last round of the banter the two girls laughed. The older one put her
arm around the younger one's neck and kissed her on the cheek. 

At that moment the mother said it was time to get going. They ignored her.

"We need to walk off this road in daylight."

Joe thought to offer a ride, but he wasn't sure, as he was not asked.

Crystal, the mother, asked Joe

"Hey Mr. I bet you think we're queers."

Joe said nothing.

Crystal snapped her fingers at Joe.

"Hey you. Can you talk?"

"Of course." 

"Hey, don't worry. I ain't going hurt you. Mama let us be jail bait. Not
that I could. You are some tight ass old man. How often do you work out?"

"Every day."

"I am sorry. I'm just playing." She softened, and walked closer to Joe. She
extended her hand. 

"Some folks have a hard time with this."

"What I want to know. It's a grand question. I need a drum roll. Mr., do you
have change for a fucking dollar"?

" Crystal, do you have to curse all the time," Momma said.

"You're not my cock sucking fucking preacher."

"Sure." Joe startled by the girls didn't know how to respond. He pulled
back, shook his head, and thought about walking away. 

While the girls screamed at the other, and Joe noticed that Crystal didn't
back down and the mother didn't try and stop it. 

A foot shorter Crystal hung in there and put her chin into her mother. Joe
liked the way Crystal fought. He wasn't sure why but he wanted her to be
strong. If you had seen Crystal on a model runway in New York, you would
have bought the product line. Her red hair brushed back was tied with a
scarf set off her perfect skin and almond shaped green gray eyes.

At about four foot six she was a child, but she had the stance of a woman.
Crystal had changed right in front of him. She now wore a heavier tee shirt
that fit better and said "TxM6" - must be a rock band, and now you could see
she had been wearing a kini bottom that was now covered by shorts.

"Well, do you have"?

Crystal looked up at Joe and then she jumped at him and slapped her hand on
his pockets to rattle his pants for change. Joe didn't move. He smiled at
her, and looked down closely at her small breasts.

"I have single bills," he said.

Amused, Joe reached for his wallet. Then he remembered it was in his glove
compartment. 

"You have my keys Marilyn," Joe said 

"I'm sorry. My wallet's in my trunk."

"I know the check is in the mail. I won't come in your mouth."

"That's my daughter Crystal," the older woman spoke up. "She's a genius and
a bitch."

"Stop that shit mother."

"I'm ordinary white trash just like you and my sisters."

Crystal walked away. She sat at the table next to the machines but first she
pulled a movie magazine out of the trash. 

Joe reviewed the madness in his mind. Is this some complex double ended
dream? Joe saw another scene.

An older teenager the mother stood over the younger one. She was pissed.

"Thought you didn't read trash. Crystal" 

Crystal didn't look up.

"Mom you threw it away. I saw you. Now you give me shit about it. It is crap
to read, but I have nothing fucking else."

One woman dressed in shorts and a bikini top fought with her daughter over a
candy bar. The mother shared a coke and a small bag of chips. Joe liked the
way they looked. He crossed his arms in front of his body, and traced the
lines, as an artist might, of the woman beautiful but tired face. Joe
thought it odd that has put on heavy makeup. It didn't occur to him that
they had been out all night.

Crystal smiled at Joe as she waited for him to answer. She tweaked her
nipple and giggled. 

"Do you have change, Sir"?

"Are these your daughters"?

"Sure. Don't they look like it? 

"At first I thought you were sisters."

"Older one with small tits is Jane but she is not here now."

"Other child, who looks like me, is Crystal."

"My name's Marilyn. What's yours"?

Joe hesitated. "Joe."

Jane struggled at the vending machine. Now, it refused bills too. She shook
the machine.

Joe paused and watched. Marilyn said nothing as the girls shook the machine
free of its last two bags of chips and one lone candy bar. 

"Hey, I got some food in my car you can have."

Crystal looked at Joe as she pulled up her kini top underneath the
transparent top.

"Mr." she said. "You never answered my question about change."

Joe laughed. "I don't have any silver. Just some singles, but the machine
seems jammed."

"What's silver"? Crystal asked

"What the fuck." Marilyn shrugged her shoulders

Joe looked at the sad machine and the mountains of garbage. 

"No one's here." Who left all this stuff?"

 

"Who gives a fuck," Jane stretched her arms and moved closer to Joe. He
could smell cigarettes. "What kind of food do you got in your car?" 

Pepsi and Mickey D's breakfast bagels left over from breakfast."

"Do you smoke"?

"No." There are some more cigarettes in my glove compartment."

"Can we have them? Mama and I are about to die"

"Might be a good time to quit"?

"Sure. You quit breathing first."

Suddenly, Marilyn opened her blouse and took off her man's dress shirt. She
wore no bra. Her breasts hung beautiful and exposed. She didn't try to hide
herself as she cleaned herself with water but a bottle. 

Joe didn't speak. He found no flaw.

"Do you like my mama?" 

Crystal didn't like the change in Joe's interest. She also didn't like to be
ignored. Joe liked the toughness of the child.

"Who doesn't?" Crystal answered. "You want to fuck her?

"Anybody wanna a Pepsi? I have some." Joe tried to break the silence. 

"No, I want a cigarette." Mama walked towards Joe's car. "Coming with me
Crystal?

"I don't know how many are there." 

Marilyn hands Joe back the electronic keys, and shows her the button to
push.

The girls and their mother reminded Joe of his half sister and her grand
children. They fought like this and cursed just as much. 

Crystal was beautiful and precocious. She knew how to move her ass to keep
the eyes locked on her. Crystal smiled and sat almost as an invitation to
look at her body. Joe wondered where they had swum that day. He gave them
the candy.

Finally eating her prize candy Crystal sat on the top rung of the bench, and
when she opened her legs you wondered if she had anything under that top. 

Crystal caught Joe's eyes as he searched. Yes, he was confused, and yes,
Crystal saw the confusion, and moved slightly to close her legs, pull up her
shirt and then to slowly open them all the way. Somehow she had moved the
kini bottom so she was open. Joe saw a sea of flesh with a darker pink along
the edges.

"Is that what you want Joe?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
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