by Matt Shaw
“Just like a lollipop,” he reminded him.
With a little pressure, to get past the resistance, David eased himself between Tom’s lips, as the young boy suppressed a gagging reflex. He sighed as his head slipped in with a little of the shaft. The rest of the shaft he gripped with his hand as he gently stroked himself, careful not to hit the boy’s face. His other hand reached around to the back of the boy’s head and kept him locked in position. Little boy with mouth full and eyes shut oh so tight.
“That’s nice,” David whispered. “That’s really nice.”
Present Day:
Friends Part IV
James continued to struggle underneath my weight but it was pointless as I pressed down harder upon him.
I told him, “We can stop this, just agree that you’ll run the household with me. Agree we’ll be partners. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Don’t resist it.”
“You’re fucking insane!” James hissed at me.
“You will love me!” I yelled at him, angered by what he said. All my life I’ve had people question my sanity. I was forced into cognitive behavioural therapy, I was forced to talk with groups of people - where I recruited more for my family - and I had been sent from pillar to post in order to supposedly ‘get help’. He had no right to say that to me. None. He forgets he has killed as well. We’re in this together now. I fumbled with my trousers, inches from his face, and pulled out my soft cock. “Put it in your mouth,” I shouted, “show me you love me!”
“I don’t love you! I don’t like you! Get the fuck off of me!”
I reached down to his face and grabbed it, fingers either side of his mouth forcing it open in the process. He mumbled something but the words were lost. I screamed at him again to show me how much he loves me as I forced myself into his warm mouth; instantly starting to harden in the process. I felt his tongue touch the shaft as he tried to move it to the back of his throat to avoid coming into contact with my flesh.
“Suck it, you ungrateful cunt!” I spat at him.
There was a knocking at the door. Someone asking if we were okay. I shouted for them to fuck off as I took my hand away from James’ mouth and grabbed his dark hair instead. Seconds later and I was moving his head backwards and forwards by his hair - forcing him to take more of me into his wet mouth. His eyes were shut tight as I started fucking him. He was still struggling underneath me. Why won’t he give it up already and accept this is the way it needs to be; us as a couple running the house as Father and Father? Two leaders to a beautiful family.
#
The little boy gagged as a hot sticky substance shot to the back of his throat. He tried to pull away but was locked in place with a hand on either side of his trembling head - forcing him to continue making movements he wished he weren’t. Finally the hands released him from their grip and David withdrew from his mouth; cock covered in both sperm and saliva. David was breathing heavily as though he’d just experienced the most intense orgasm he’d had for a long, long time. Tom was crying despite David praising him for his skills and saying what a great friend he was. Tom wished he could do something to stop all of this; he wished he could make it all go away and never be bothered again but he knew there was nothing to be done. He was but a young boy from a broken family. He worried no one would believe him. He worried that it would make it worse; these acts continuing but with a vengeful monster as opposed to a sometimes-gentle friend. On many a night, when he laid in bed with cum dribbling from between his cheeks, or a salty aftertaste left lingering in his mouth, he promised himself that one day he would stand up for himself. One day, when he was big and strong, he would put a stop to people like David.
#
I roared at him asking him, “Where have you gone?”
His eyes were scrunched shut tightly and he’d stopped fighting from underneath my heavy weight as he’d clearly taken himself to another place. This isn’t ‘Fight Club’ - there are no ‘Happy Places’ you can retreat to.
“Open your eyes!” I screamed at him as I continued fucking his mouth. “Open your fucking eyes and look at me! I chose you! I chose you because I saw potential in you. I could see that we belong together! Stop fighting and accept it…”
I could feel my temper getting the better of me as James continued to defy me. He should be grateful that I saw fit to invite him into my family having seen him struggling through with life. He should be grateful that I let him kill a man of his choosing - going against my own rules - as opposed to picking someone. And, more to the point, he should be grateful that I have chosen him to be with me. Yet here he is acting like an ungrateful little shit. I slapped him hard in the face; my knees either side of his head, pinning his arms, stopping his face from moving with the force of the hit. I hissed again that he needed to open his eyes and acknowledge me; acknowledge us. To my surprise, and delight, his eyes suddenly opened and locked with my own. That’s better. I smiled at him. He didn’t smile back, or - considering his mouth was full - attempt to either. I realised there was a look of blinding hatred in his eyes and suddenly - with no warning - he clamped his mouth shut. I screamed out loud as a pain shot through my body. His top row of teeth connected to his bottom row.
#
Blood gushed over James’ face as the penis came away from Father’s body. Father screamed out loud - a high-pitched shrill - as fists pounded on the bedroom door; concerned family members flocking to the room to see what the commotion was. As the blood continued to flow, the father used what remaining strength he had to grip James’ head. He started slamming it down again and again on the bedroom floor. Each blow dazing James that little bit more. The hits against the bedroom door were no longer fists but bodies instead as members of the family took it in turn to throw themselves against the rigid door in an effort to break it down for their entrance. Their frantic cries to father being near drowned out by the screaming of the man they’d come to love.
With his hands against either side of James’ head, and his thumbs lined up with his eye sockets, he started to push inwards as hard as his weakening body would allow. The strength taken to do so, meant shifting his weight on James’ body allowing him the chance to quickly lift his shoulder, throwing the bleeding man to the floor beside him, before any real damage was done.
Still dazed - head pounding – James scrambled to his feet.
The bleeding man beside him didn’t. He laid there, writhing around in agony as the blood flow became less of a fountain and more of a trickle. His face pale and his eyes fading. James turned to the door - his own face etched in panic - as the door suddenly gave way and three men in their twenties spilled into the room landing in a heap on the floor. More men were standing in the doorway now surveying the scene before them. A girl, behind them, screamed as she noticed her father’s wounds.
“It’s not what it looks like!” James put his hands up in a defensive position. “I can explain!”
Epilogue
The little boy turned into a teenager and then finally a man. Over the years he watched people come and go; some because they reached their eighteenth birthday and others because they were adopted by people wanting to start a family. Each time a new couple came by, he felt his hopes rise that it may be him who was chosen and yet each time he was left with bitter disappointment as they barely even glanced in his direction. He often wondered whether they could see the damage in his soul caused by his birth mother, uncle, and the man who called himself ‘a friend’. He had reconciled himself to the fact that he was most likely going to be forever alone. He was fine with it. A life spent alone may not have been for everyone but - for him - it came with perks. Namely, as he continued to age, the night-time visits became less and less frequent. David still crept into the room - of course - but he’d also go to another bed. The bed of a younger child. A newer one. Tom felt sorry for them as he knew what was to happen to them as they were lead - nervously - from the room. He’d have to tense his entire body so as not to let adrenaline surge through him and take c
ontrol of his actions. Often he thought about stepping forward and saying something to someone in authority but - each time - he realised no one would believe him. A little voice deep within his head told him that others would step forward too. The little voice was quashed when he reminded it that - when he was younger - he would not have come forward had someone else blown the lid off of what was happening during the midnight hours. He would have been too afraid that no one would have believed them, no matter how many people came forward, and things would continue as they were. Only this time, instead of being led away by ‘a friend’ they’d have been lead away by a vengeful monster with no care for their well-being.
As he left the home in the back of a taxi - heading for his own, small apartment issued by the council - he could sense David standing at a window watching him go. He could sense the smile on his face; he had gotten away with it again. Tom promised himself that - one day - he would have his revenge. He just questioned whether God would be on his side to let him see it through.
#
Sons and daughters crowded around the body of the man who’d given them a home; some thought of him as their father and others thought of him as their God. Tears were spilled as they each, in turn, took a moment to say goodbye to him. He wasn’t dead yet but he wasn’t conscious. He’d lost a lot of blood and they knew he wouldn’t make it. The blood was but a trickle now. The carpet around him saturated in red.
James was screaming for them to let him go from across the room. He was telling them again and again that he could explain but his pleas and screams were falling upon deaf ears. They had him on the bed. A girl who’d previously been in a similar position had pointed out the restraints still attached to the bed (and shoved under out of sight). Two men restrained James as the girl reached back under the bed.
“It’s still here!” she laughed.
She pulled out a cardboard box and lifted the lid, ignoring the stench. She reached into the box and withdrew the severed head of Markson - left there from where it had previously been used as a sex toy against her pussy.
“Remember him?” she laughed as she held the head up to James.
With one hand holding up the weight of the head, she used her other hand to make it speak - even going so far as to put on a fake voice, “You’ve been a very naughty boy, James!” She laughed again, as did the two men who’d finishing restraining him to the bed.
“My name is Tom!” James shouted.
The girl looked at him from over the top of the dead head. “Aw, what’s the matter, you look scared… What ever is the problem?”
“Please just let me explain. He was…”
“You need to relax a little,” said the girl. She turned to one of the men and instructed him to pull James’ trousers off. He did so with a grin on his face. The girl looked to James’ bare cock and laughed, “No wonder you always seem a little uptight… What do you call that? I hope it’s more impressive when it wake up.”
“Let me fucking explain, you cunt!” James hissed.
“Here… We’re all friends here… Maybe I can help you relax a little!” she made the dead head talk again before holding it to James’ genitals. She used her second hand to lift his flaccid cock up before putting it into Markson’s mouth. James screamed.
#
David Markson wiped his spent penis clean of the cum and spit and turned to the crying boy.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
Tom didn’t answer.
“I thought you did a very good job. I’m proud of you. What you did for me felt really nice… Look, I’ll show you…”
He lifted Tom up onto the medical bed and pulled his pyjama bottoms down. He took a hold of Tom’s soft penis and put it into his mouth before slowly sucking him hard. He stopped only long enough to say, “See - it’s nice, isn’t it?” before continuing with his actions.
Tom closed his eyes and wished it to stop.
#
The girl continued wanking James’ cock with the severed head, all the time doing fake moaning noises as though she were Markson herself. Despite her best efforts James’ penis wasn’t stiffening in response; something which bothered the girl. She shifted her hands so that one was on the top of the head - holding it by a scruff of hair - and one was underneath the chin. She turned to see the rest of the family members were watching her now. The body of their father lying cold at their feet. She smiled at her brothers and sisters as one stepped through the group with a knife in his hand. He approached the bed as James continued to struggle and shout at them all to fuck off and give him a chance to explain.
“It’s not what you…”
The girl clamped the mouth shut of the severed head, by pushing up hard with the hand connected to the chin, separating penis from body in the process. James screamed out loud - a scream cut short as his fellow brother slowly sliced his neck open with the blade of the knife. A spray of blood jettisoned over the girl. She tossed the head to one side, letting it bounce off the floor, and straddled James’ writhing body. She started to rub herself with her left hand as blood continued to soak her from both the gash in the throat and the stump of his cock. Despite the quick flow of blood and the speed with which his soul left his body, she managed to climax before he passed.
She turned to her brothers and sisters with a guilty smile on her face. She shrugged.
“Anyone want to adopt me?”
THE END
