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Message-ID: <55096asstr$1167991802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Sean Farragher" <seanfarragher@hotmail.com>
Thread-Index: AccwiZQQhtoUTfC9QJmW10pzF5Teqw==
Subject: {ASSM} Mother and Her Cannibals  Chapter 8
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Date: Fri, 05 Jan 2007 05:10:02 -0500
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Mother & Her Cannibals is a story with adult themes and it is a work of
fiction. The characters in the story are not actual persons. The author does
not advocate or promote the abuse of children. The content is not intended
to be prurient. The dangerous men and women are not only career criminals,
but also ordinary men and women, usually abuse victims, who find their lives
empty. This does not excuse anti-social behavior, but to understand more of
its context. The author wishes to thank the psychologist Alice Miller for
her original work with abuse victims. -- Sean Farragher

Mother and her Cannibals
Novel-in-Progress
C2007 Sean Farragher All Rights Reserved
http://seanfarragher.com <http://seanfarragher.com/>   
and http://seanfarragher.com/cannibals
BLOG: http://farragher-conversations.blogspot.com/


Mother & Her Cannibals
CHAPTER EIGHT


April 19, 2018


Joe and Crystal began in a distant broken past. They also lived within the
unknown, unknown future. Their present collected many movie frames for proof
of life, but when the show was projected, forbidden sex became a million
blank spaces. How do we preserve the whole when so much was deleted?   

Eventually, Joe would lose Crystal as the movie ended, and he realized
nothing could change that. Alternatively, he doesn't lose her, but finds her
again, in another form - Shall we bow to transubstantiation?

 

**

In 2018, Crystal celebrated her nineteenth birthday. She had just published
the story of her life with Papa Joe, mother Marilyn, assorted cannibals,
tricks, relatives, cops, hustlers and pimps. 

Crystal began with rape, slaps, put downs, hand me downs, pinches and messy
dicks. When they rubbed her lips, she said she felt warm like piss against
legs in a shower. Crystal loved the heat of her vagina. She craved ejaculate
and felt that fire too soon.

In the middle of her childhood, Joe saved her. Last year she wrote about
what she remembered to have forgotten. 

 

**

Shall we review? 

Crystal met Joe on July 28, 2006. 

Nothing was ever the same for man or woman. The eight-year-old responded to
decadence. That is all she knew. Crystal would never give her protector up
to the law. Mother loved the life style, and her siblings knew what was best
for them. 


 


January 2, 2007


Joe believed life began at the end and we worked forward or was it reversed.
Sometimes Joe's not sure what thought means. "That's the responsibility, he
says, of my contemptuous gadfly." 

"I am," the insect said, "shall we dispense with the positive?"

Working backwards was a revolution in ideas. Would we have the story of
Crystal and Joe, told in reverse?

"Why not," Crystal edited that particular chapter long after the events.
"Logic can be manipulated as an index of intent. What is fantasy after all?
Papa is scared. I understand. It is I who used him."

Crystal writes in the year 2018. "Papa taught me that I am smart. I already
knew I could think."

"My papa was scared as I was as a child. It is odd, but he understood that I
needed to be able to choose for myself. I know I was young, and his
intentions were not perfect, but he never asked and then he stopped allowing
me to hurt myself."


December 22, 2006


For the second time in two weeks, Joe had snow related travel problems. 

Joe kicked the fluffy white cold heavy down blanket as he the sleek office
building; he sloshed playfully with children dressed in business suits. He
raced down the street and clapped his hands after the usual end of business
conversation with his editor. They had stood toe to toe before Joe left in
the twirling door.

The media reported that the snow fell at four inches per hour. Wind gusted
at 80 miles per hour. Roads and La Guardia closed. Joe would not get home.
He'd stay in New York where his publisher Warren had rooms.

Joe and Warren shook hands, did the homophobic hug and Joe smiled as he
searched for a snow-blind cab

Joe slipped on ineffective human legs from Broadway and forty-fourth to
Central Park South. Joe brushed off the snow that would melt by the time he
got upstairs. 

Later, he learned the airport had closed. He laughed at the rituals we
perform so we understand each other. 

Joe called Crystal from his cell to hers. She used the phone constantly. He
couldn't believe he got through. He told her they would talk on the phone
later. Crystal understood.


December 14, 2006


Last week's weather problem was not so simple.

Blizzard in Colorado and Wyoming backed up the secondary air traffic west of
Chicago. Grid broken; very few planes made it through Iowa and Missouri. He
could not come home. He knew Crystal would be worried, and he called, but
Marilyn said she was at art class (she was actually home), and then she
didn't tell Crystal later that Joe had asked for her. 

When he heard her crying, Joe bought a first class ticket out of
Philadelphia, and flew home that night.  

Marilyn lied. She told Joe that she told Crystal he had called. 

"And besides, why do you spoil the child."

"I am not spoiling her."

"She's my kid after all," Marilyn shrugged her shoulders and lit up a
cigarette.

"Don't I pay all your bills, Marilyn?"

"You don't have to do all this to get what you want."

"Are you jealous?" Joe asked on the phone.

"No," but she paused. "I have to admit you treat her like she is your own,
which is odd, considering all the rest."

The pause to Joe was "a tell," as in poker. 

Marilyn started the conversation with tight mouth, eyes and her whole body
thrown into every word. At the end, she spoke softly and didn't over
accentuate the syllables.

"I can't prove it, but I care for you. Is there something I can do?

"No, don't turn her against me."

"I don't. I do the opposite. You might want to talk to your old lover about
negativity."

"Did you have to bring him up?"

"No, perhaps not."

 

**

Crystal cried until Joe called again. She raced for the phone. Her mother
glared. "Let me speak first." 

"No," Crystal hit her mother with the phone, and then ran into the bathroom
and locked the door.

"Fuck you, Crystal yelled back and hit the door with her fist."

"Papa, you there?" Crystal sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor
listening on the telephone. She shivered. Cold tiles froze her ass. 

"You little bitch you don't smack me cunt." Marilyn screamed at the door
putting her face to the wood.

"Papa?"

"Darling," Joe spoke softly on the phone. He was calm, and as Crystal
listened, her face relaxed.

"Wait a second Papa."

Crystal pulled a pile of bath towels down and sat on them.

"What did you do darling," Joe asked.

"My bottom got cold. I'm locked in."

"So I heard. Sometimes you have to wear panties." Joe joked with Crystal
about how she liked to be a bare butt. Sometimes they talked about history a
as if she were in graduate seminar, and other times she made him kiss her
panda bear, sleep with twenty thousand stuffed animals, but she was warm,
and he made her feel like a human being. 

"Are you OK? Joe asked

"I am OK. Why does Mama hate me?"

"Why does the sun shine, Crystal?"

"Don't make fun."

"When I get home I will tell her."

"What?"

"To leave you alone."

"You're too scared to do that."

"She could take me away."

"No, she can't."

"She likes the way we live."

The couple talked on the phone. Crystal cried then giggled and listened to
every word. Every five minutes Mama banged on the door. When they moved in
this house in September, Marilyn had insisted on strong locks on the
bathroom doors.

*****

Joe was the first man who didn't hurt Crystal. He never yelled, mocked, hit,
pushed, intimidated, coerced or threatened. He told the beautiful child that
she was beautiful. Crystal knew Joe liked young girls, and she was glad. 

Crystal loved the Internet. She looked up anything she didn't understand. If
she couldn't find it, she asked Joe. He set her straight. Crystal knew that
he loved her for more than the cuddles. Soon after they met, Crystal cried
when he got ready to leave. Joe didn't go, but he listened.

When Crystal was four her stepfather got tired of watching over her, and he
left her in the park. He joked about it later. He told Crystal that he had
wished someone had stolen her when she found her way home. Cops brought her
home. The next day social services paid a surprise visit. Marilyn talked her
way out of her neglect, but Crystal was now in the system.

When Crystal was six, some scumbag boy friend, named Jeff Gold, sold Crystal
and her mother by the week to a man who needed home care. He wouldn't let
her touch him. He did not speak. She ran away when he tried to set her on
fire. Marilyn was lucky that child welfare did not notice the crimes.

Another day Marilyn beat Crystal. When her teacher and then her principal
asked her about it, Crystal denied the abused, but the police arrested her
mother and stepfather. Crystal lived for six months in a home run by Darcy
and Gwen Milton for four girls and one boy aged 5 to 14. Crystal was six
when she moved in to the brothel as the police later charged. The Milton's
also had two daughters of their own who were 10 and 12.

As in many institutions, the older ones abuse the younger ones, and the
adults do what they pleased. 

Sometimes, Milt (He used to joke he was the son of the famous TV star Uncle
Miltie) would rent out the girls. Once he danced around the house dressed in
disgusting stage makeup. He would stage role-play where he burned witches at
the stake. If he had a very attractive girl under five, he would steal a
child from some far away city and sell a light-skinned girl for huge fees.  

Milton loved his daughters. He insisted on bathing them. He abused his
natural daughters as he did the ones who paid the bills. When the social
worker visited the kids always said that Milt was the best. They knew if
they spoke up he would pull some cash out and the public servant would walk
away.

When he came back he would snicker, and it didn't matter who did it, Milt
would target them for extra "advice" as he put it.  

Milt had two huge tubs. He would put all sorts of things inside Crystal's
privates. He said he got off on playing the doctor. Amy, his daughter, loved
him. She would get jealous if she didn't like the foster child. Everyone
loved Crystal. She told Joe she was glad she didn't have to play the phony
game. 

Amy told Crystal that her father told her she would have his children. Amy
loved it.  

Didn't happen. Smart social worker entrapped him. She sent Milt and his wife
a foster child who looked sixteen. An undercover cop caught him fucking his
daughter. Milt and wife will live at the expense of the state. Ironically,
Amy and her sister now live a mile from Crystal. When Crystal 

Crystal did not want to alone. Joe held her. He'd never let her go. He
treated her as a frightened daughter. When he did that, she wanted him to
touch her. She wished for more and she hugged him letting her thighs
surround his leg. She knew it made him fuller, harder and loved not in a
forbidden garden but out there in the open. In a few years, of course,
Crystal could have that wish if she wanted it.

Joe let her move on him. He never pushed her, made her do anything. He
didn't say I want, or would you like. He let her have her way with him. He
wanted her to have the power of choice

Later, Joe slept. Crystal cried she felt so full of love for the man. She
couldn't stop herself. With one hand, she fingered her clit and the other
she rubbed Joe's cock from top to bottom. She'd pause, use more oil, and
then when he stirred, she told him not to pull away. He pushed her hand
away. She put it back and he rolled on his stomach and she played with his
ass, and finally, he just stopped, and she made him come using the
surprising strength in her arms as she turned him again. She knew he helped
her. He resisted, as he would falling into the Atlantic ocean in June. Joe
wanted Crystal as he wanted the chill of the waves. Finally, Joe didn't
resist. He couldn't. 

She held him and the slippery KY jelly moved from her small palm to his
cock. He groaned and she smiled leaning over his shoulder he tried to keep
away from her pulling his cock away from her hands. Joe protested. "We said
we wouldn't." 

"No, you said it."

Crystal refused to stop. She rubbed and sucked it. She was everywhere at
once.

That first night together Joe had taught her how to rub him. She came at him
harsh. He was gentle with her when she pulled back. "Softer," he said. "This
is not a race."

"I want you to like me." Crystal turned her eyes down. Joe gently lifted her
up by her elbows. She was naked on top. He wet his fingers and circled her
flat boobies. 

"I wish they were bigger," she said. 

"Hey, lift your head up. Your ass is gorgeous. Look at it in the mirror.
That black thong cuts your privates just right."

"You have the face of an angel who got caught blowing the Priest."

"I did a Minister once. I was seven. Momma went to the church for help.
While she talked to the Youth Minister, I talked to the main man."

"Did you blow him?"

"Almost. He couldn't get hard. He was so embarrassed he gave me half the
collection in the offering."

As Joe softly talked to Crystal first night or any night, Joe would tell her
to "Tell me how you like it."

"Really?"

"Teach me how to touch you," Joe said as Crystal rested on a pillow next to
his head. 

"No one asked me before. Not even Mama," Crystal dug under Joe's body and
she found him hard.

"You do like me. You won't throw me out tomorrow. Mama says you will."

"No. If I could get away with it I would throw Mama out."

"No, I need her too. Don't say that."

"Can't you see my smile? I know you need her. I will take care of all of you
including your sisters."

"Don't tease me about that."

"I know Mama has hurt me. I can't stop loving her. You wouldn't want me to."

"No, I am glad you spoke up."

 

**

Joe remembered that early conversation, and now months later, he wants
Crystal and is afraid. He realized that day that he loved her, and he knew
the sex would get in the way, but he couldn't stop himself. Joe asked her to
tell him no, and she said, "silly, I want you to touch me too."

Finally, he gives up. He cannot resist her even as his erection diminishes.
They retrain the sensation and she rolled Joe on his back, and they both
committed to their pleasure.

Recently, she had pressured him to penetrate her. She pushed his fingers
deep inside her. She stretched her lips, and her hymen was long gone.

Finally, she climbed on top and covered his hard cock with KY jelly, and
then put some more inside her.

Joe protested, but he let her control it. He was afraid he would come too
fast. He bit his lip and thought of dead animals in a pet mortuary. She slid
down and her face contorted.

"No, it must be hurting, stop."

"Shut up," she replied

No, I can't do this, and when he said the word "this" she broke him through
half way. He was too big. She held herself up and rocked and when he came,
she cried and told him how much she loved him.

He came half in and half out of her. She rubbed it all over her flat chest,
belly and his cock. She sucked on her fingers.

"Next time," she said, "I will not be scared. I know I can take more of
you."

Slowly she rolled off him and cuddled next to his arms crossed over her
back. 

"My heart is beating so fast. Mama never let them do that. Some tried to
fuck my ass, but I screamed and they stopped."

"I don't want any man to touch me but you. I am yours, Joe."

"What about Madison and your sleep over babes?" Joe grinned.

"Oh she's a girl. I want girls. You can have them too."

 
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