 
                              Net Wolf's Stories
 
+ 
Chapter 3: Greg
 


*Greg stood on a high precipice, staring across the vast expanse. Beneath him,
a red light glowed, casting a crimson tinge over everything and contributing
an evil overtone to the land as shadows leapt up from ledges and protrusions,
hiding the creatures who dwelt in the chasm.*
 
*Greg felt a presence behind him. He knew the presence, was familiar with it.
It crept along the ground until it reached him, and then it ascended his body
like a silky skin. It settled against him, and it whispered into his ear.*
 
*"Jump in."*
 
*"But the fall will kill me!"*
 
*"What awaits you is not death."*
 
*"I can't! It's gotta be a thousand feet down!"*
 
*"It is your destiny."*
 
*Greg turned from the chasm, stepping away from the edge. The silky presence
did not waver, but Greg knew that it was disappointed. He walked back into the
cave which led to the prominence on which he'd been standing.*
 
*"You must jump," the voice told him again.*
 
*"Why?" Greg asked.*
 
*"Only then can you fulfill your destiny."*
 
*"What destiny?"*
 
*"Greatness."*
 
*"You're talking in riddles!"*
 
*"Jump in, and all will become clear to you."*
 
*Just then, Greg was surrounded by shadowy beings, creatures with no form and
little substance, yet able to block out all light. They swirled around him.*
 
*"You must jump in!" the voice insisted.*
 
*Greg stumbled back as the creatures pressed in upon him. They were herding
him back to the edge.*
 
*"You... must... jump... NOW!" the voice whispered hoarsely.*
 
*Greg turned, and looked once again at the shining light at the bottom of the
gorge.*
 
*"You promise I won't die?" he asked.*
 
*"Death does not await you," it assured him.*
 
*Greg took a deep breath, and took a running leap off the prominence.
Immediately, he was falling, and screaming.*
 
*"You promised!"*
 
*"I didn't promise you wouldn't fall, fool!" the voice hissed.*
 
*Greg screamed again as he continued to plunge into the depth. The crimson orb
of light - and thus the bottom, he assumed - approached rapidly, growing
closer and closer. Then, he was engulfed...*
 


-----
 


Greg sat bolt upright in bed. His heart was racing, and he was covered in
sweat. He took a few big gulps of air, then fell back onto his bed.
 
"Fuck, where did that come from?"
 
Greg's dream disturbed him. He'd never had a falling dream before. The entity
in the dream that had engulfed him was not a fear; he had met him long before,
and the being had never once harmed him. That was why Greg had felt confident
enough to jump. He found that he had a growing headache, and decided to get up
to get some aspirin.
 
Greg padded silently to the bathroom, and got a drink of water and the
aspirin, downing them quickly. He hoped that they would work soon; his
headache was getting progressively worse. Finally, he started to walk back to
his room.
 
As he came out of the bathroom, his sister, Donna, came out of her room. She
walked toward him, clearly also going to the bathroom.
 
When she got close enough, she growled at him in disgust. "Put some damned
clothes on, you pervert! I don't want to see you all hanging out! Bad enough
you woke me up with all your yelling!"
 
Greg made a show of standing in the light and waving his dick at her. He never
wore clothes to bed, and he really enjoyed the way it embarrassed and
tormented her. She went into the bathroom and closed the door firmly.
 
Greg snickered as he went back to his room. His headache seemed to be easing
somewhat, but he now felt as if there was a tingling in his head. He hoped
that was just a need for more sleep.
 
*I didn't know that I talked in my sleep. Well, hell, if it bugs her, all the
better!*
 


-----
 


Greg had awakened to the tingling sensation, even stronger than it had been
before. He sat up slowly, wondering if he would be dizzy, but his equilibrium
was normal. He went to the bathroom, almost hoping to annoy Donna again, but
she was already in the kitchen, he could tell. He got dressed and joined her.
 
"What the hell was your problem last night?" she grumped. "You screamed loud
enough to wake the dead! And Lord knows there's enough of those around here!"
The Parson family lived in northern California, and the area still had not
recovered fully from the devastation of the war. Though they had a decent
lifestyle, it was not nearly as comfortable as life had once been. Greg,
however, had never known that easier life, so he did not miss it. Besides, the
current "might makes right" existence suited him just fine.
 
"Just a fucking bad dream. Now shut up and leave me alone."
 
Donna kept her peace after that. She didn't like her brother, and after his
display the previous night, she was also somewhat grossed out by him. She left
for school without waiting for him as she normally would have. Greg didn't
really pay that any attention.
 


-----
 


Later in the day, Greg was wandering down the hall at school, looking for
someone. He didn't know exactly who, but he was sure he'd recognize her when
he saw her. Finally, close to the time the bell was going to ring, he spotted
her. She was even moving in the right direction. He moved in close behind her,
and as she walked past the storage closet, he grabbed her, put his hand over
her mouth, and pulled her into the closet with him.
 
He pushed her back against the door as he turned on the light. He saw the fear
in her eyes, and that was almost better than what he had planned.
 
"Okay, bitch. You've got a choice. You can suck me off, or I can rape your
slut ass right here. You got it?" She nodded, her eyes filled with terror.
"What's it gonna be?" he demanded.
 
As the girl began to sink to her knees, Greg let her loose. She was soon
kneeling in front of him, her head down. Greg, impatient to get on with it,
undid his pants and pushed them down his legs, along with his boxers, exposing
his hardening cock to her view. She started to shake in fear.
 
"C'mon, you stupid cow! Get to sucking!" Greg grabbed her head and forced it
into his crotch, his dick sliding along the side of her face. He let her loose
just enough so that she could actually get his dick between her lips, but then
he grabbed hold of her head and started to force her onto his cock. She was
gagging with his deep thrusts, but he didn't care; the feel of her throat
trying to close down on him actually aroused him more.
 
Greg continued to use the girl, shoving his prick into her again and again. He
could feel his climax approaching, and began to thrust his hips as well as
yanking on her head. In a few more seconds, he blasted his load into her
mouth, spurting for several seconds before finally tapering off.
 
As he regained his breath and his cock began to shrink, he pulled himself from
between her lips. The girl immediately fell onto her hands and knees, and spit
out Greg's cum all over the floor. Greg was enraged, even though this was
usually what happened when he did this to a girl. The thought that anyone
would reject him, or any part of him, brought out his full fury.
 
"You're supposed to *swallow it*, you stupid cunt! Now lick that up, and I
mean every goddamned bit of it!" As he spoke, Greg felt the tingle in his head
- something he'd been trying to ignore - expand. It engulfed him in a silky
essence that was eerily familiar to him. He was about to reach down to push
the girl's face to the floor, which was what he would normally have to do to
make her lick up his cum, but she was already bent over lapping at it as if it
was life-giving ambrosia.
 
Greg pulled up his pants as he watched the girl licking the floor clean of his
spunk. He grinned malevolently at how sick she would probably be later from
whatever crap might be on the floor.
 
Finally, when the girl was done, she got shakily to her feet. She was about to
leave, when Greg said, "Hey, is that all? You just take my cum and go?" He
loved his little joke; he used it on almost every girl in some way. "Why don't
you show me your tits before you leave?"
 
Normally, the girls just gave a dirty look and then ran out. This girl
stopped, then turned and lifted up her T-shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra
because she didn't really have a good pair, but Greg admired the view, anyway.
He reached out and pinched her nipple, causing her to cry out in pain.
 
"Nice tits," he said. "Okay, you can go. But I wouldn't go saying anything to
anyone, if you know what's good for you." She nodded in fear, and ran out. As
she left, Greg stretched. He really had wanted to fuck her, but she'd
cooperated, so he let her off easy. He was sure he'd find another girl to
screw soon enough.
 
*What the hell was that all about, though? She seemed to do what I told her
to, without me having to force her. At least, after the tingly thing happened,
anyway. I wonder... am I a psionic? I haven't heard that much about exactly
what powers they have. Maybe they can control people. I should try some stuff,
to see what I can do. But I've got to be careful, or I'll get my ass killed.*
 


...---=== http://storm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 


*Greg walked down a long hallway, with no doors except at the far end. He
walked with confidence and felt no fear. He reached the door at the far end,
and went in.*
 
*The room he entered was mirrored on all four walls. He stepped to the middle,
and then looked at himself.*
 
*"Closer. Get closer," the voice said to him. For the first time, Greg noticed
that the silky entity did not *approach* him, but was, in fact, already with
him.*
 
*As Greg approached the far wall, the voice said, "Close your eyes." Greg did
so, but kept walking. After several more paces, the voice said, "Stop."*
 
*"Now what?" Greg asked.*
 
*"Open your eyes."*
 
*Slowly, Greg's eyelids parted. He was only a foot away from the mirrored
wall. The eyes staring back at him glowed a deep crimson. It was the same
color as the orb from his last dream like this one. He could also sense,
almost see, the silky entity that coated him. Finally, a question occurred to
him, one he'd never bothered to ask before.*
 
*"Who are you?"*
 
*"Who do you think I am?"*
 
*"Don't play games. Who are you?"*
 
*There is only one person having this conversation," the voice said.*
 


-----
 


Greg sat up in bed, startled. *I was talking to myself in my dream? Why would
I see myself as some kind of inky mass? And why would I then coat myself? That
makes no sense. Fuck it, it's just a dream anyway.*
 
Greg got up and walked to the bathroom to get a drink of water and take a
piss. After relieving himself, he reached for the glass on the sink, but as
his fingers touched it, it slid away.
 
"Dammit," he muttered quietly. He reached for it again, but once more, as soon
as his hand touched it, it slipped away from him.
 
"What the fuck?" he muttered louder. One last time, he reached for the glass.
This time, it slid off onto the floor. It was plastic, so it didn't break, but
it made a loud clank, which actually made Greg jump.
 
"Goddammit, what the hell is this shit?" He sat down on the toilet seat, and
considered.
 
*What the fuck is going on now? Wait... what if I really *am* a psionic, and
yesterday was real, and not just the girl being weird? This would be... what
do they call it... telekinesis. Yeah. Okay, so how do I make it work? I mean,
if I'm not hallucinating, it was already working, but how do I make it do what
*I* want?*
 
After several minutes of pondering, Greg tried reaching out his hand toward
the glass and concentrating on it. He thought very hard to himself, *Come
Here!*
 
Suddenly, the glass lifted off the floor and flew into his hand so hard that
it stung. He quickly gripped the glass.
 
*Well, fucking cool! I really am a psionic!* A dark look crossed his face.
*This is gonna be fun.*
 


...---=== http://storm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 


"...and...*Gotcha*!" The needle, which was floating in midair, suddenly flew
across the bedroom and embedded itself in the moth, pinning it to the wall
where it had landed. Greg smiled to himself. It had been a week since he'd
discovered what he was, and he had played with his skills only in private so
far. He had wanted to have some confidence in what he could do before
potentially exposing himself to trouble.
 
Today, however, he figured it was time to begin enjoying the fruits of his
labors.
 
*Look out world, Greg Parson is here!*
 


-----
 


Greg was leaning against the wall in the school hallway, watching the kids
walk by. He looked up at the ceiling tiles, and got an idea. Tilting his head
back down so that he could just barely see the tiles, he focused on one
particular one. Slowly, he reached out to it with his mind, and lifted it off
its frame. He twisted it in its frame just enough, and then set it back down.
For several minutes, he didn't do anything more; he wanted everyone in the
hall to have seen it that way.
 
Once he figured everyone knew the tile was already crooked, he reached out to
it again. He started tugging on it, and it was moving, inch by inch. Greg
wasn't paying any attention to who was walking underneath the tile; it wasn't
important.
 
Finally, the tile let loose and fell. A feminine scream got Greg's attention,
and he looked to see that the tile had landed on the head of one of the female
teachers. The tile actually broke over her head, and pieces showered down
around her. Along with several spiders, which she saw. Her screaming redoubled
as she tried to shake them off herself.
 
All the students in the hallway were laughing, so Greg did not have to hold in
his chuckles of glee. He decided to make his way to class, but he was laughing
all the way there.
 
*Kinda stupid, but a good start. Let's see what else we can do.*
 


-----
 


"How was your day at school, Honey?" Greg's mother asked. She placed his
dinner down in front of him, and sat down to eat hers. Donna was already
attacking her own meal.
 
Greg shrugged. "It was okay. Same old crap."
 
Mrs. Parson considered scolding him about the language, but she knew that was
both futile, and possibly dangerous. Greg's moods had grown darker over the
past few years, since the death of her husband, and she worried about what he
was becoming. She turned to her daughter to hopefully get a more light-hearted
response, and spent the rest of dinner talking to her.
 
Not that Greg minded. His thoughts were focused on his success of the day, and
what he should try next. *It's got to be something better than a cheesy
falling tile. Maybe messing with one of the teachers. Anyway, it's got to be
at least interesting to watch. Today's was a good first run, I guess, but it
was *boring*!*
 
Greg vowed that whatever he did the next day, it wouldn't be boring.
 


-----
 


Greg sat alone at lunch the next day, mulling over his thoughts. He was
startled when one of the other teens confronted him.
 
"I know what you did, Greg. Loni told me about it. Knock it the fuck off, or
I'm turning you in."
 
Greg's anger ignited immediately. He reached up and backhanded the boy, with a
little help from his telekinesis. The boy staggered backward and tripped,
landing on his ass. Greg got up and came around the table, then leaned down to
get as close to the boy's face as he could.
 
"If you speak to me, or anyone else, about this ever again, you sorry little
sack of pig shit, little Loni won't just be sucking me off. I'll fuck her in
the ass *with your severed dick*, you got that, fucknuts?" Greg hissed, so
that no teacher would hear him.
 
The boy went pale, and nodded in terror.
 
"Get the fuck out of my sight," Greg said dismissively, and walked back to his
seat. As the boy scurried away, Greg fumed. He hated being challenged. The boy
would pay for his insolence, but not here in the lunch room.
 
But Greg needed a release. He had decided what to do, but hadn't found a
suitable target yet. Suddenly, he saw the principal, sitting with another
teacher. Ostensibly they were there to watch over the kids, but they had to
eat, too. And the principal had a can of soda.
 
*Motherfucker can afford soda? How much money is he stealing from the school?*
Soda was a luxury item, and it was rarely found at school, which was why Greg
had decided to go after someone who had it. The fact that it was the principal
only made it sweeter.
 
Greg checked carefully that the principal's soda was not yet opened, and it
wasn't. Greg concentrated, and lifted the soda off the table by the smallest
fraction of an inch. He then began to shake the can, as rapidly as he could,
but in miniscule movements. Even with his psionically enhanced sight, the
words on the can began to blur as the can shook faster and faster.
 
Finally, after a solid twenty seconds, Greg set the soda can back down. *Now
to wait, and watch the fun.*
 
It didn't take long for the administrator to reach for his cold drink. Unaware
of what had been done, he slipped his finger under the tab and flicked.
Immediately, a fountain of ice cold soda erupted out the top of the can,
spraying not just the principal, but also the teacher with him.
 
Kids erupted in laughter, seeing the principal and teacher drenched. The
principal looked puzzled, angry, and dismayed, all at the same time. The two
adults left the room. Greg wondered idly if they had spare clothes at school,
or if the two would have to go home to get a change. He thoroughly enjoyed his
lunch after that.
 
Once lunch was over, he made his way to a specific hallway and waited,
watching the other kids make their way to class. It wasn't long before young
Loni passed by. Greg simply reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her along
until he came to an unused classroom. He pulled her inside and locked the door
behind him.
 
Loni looked resigned to her fate, and was already sinking to her knees, when
Greg grabbed her and pulled her back up to her feet.
 
"I told you not to tell anyone," Greg said matter-of-factly. "You have to be
punished for your disobedience. Turn around."
 
Shakily, Loni turned around. Greg then reached around her and, almost in one
move, unfastened her pants and yanked them and her panties down her hips until
they fell to the floor. Loni let out a small squeak, but knew what would
happen if she truly yelled. When she heard Greg's zipper, she knew what was
coming, and just hoped she would survive it.
 


...---=== http://storm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 


Greg leaned against the wall and watched the cattle go by. At least, that's
how he thought of his fellow students. His newfound abilities only increased
his opinion of his own superiority. He enjoyed knowing that he could do pretty
much anything he wanted now, and get away with it.
 
Suddenly, he saw Loni's boyfriend, Jared, walking down the hall. At first, a
slow smile crept across Greg's face, remembering the hour he had spent with
Loni the day before. Then, he remembered that it was really Jared who had
challenged him, and he still needed to be punished.
 
Greg thought to himself quickly about what to do, and the fact that Jared was
approaching the stairs down to the basement gave him an idea. Concentrating on
Jared, Greg thought out *<Dizziness.>* He kept repeating it over and over,
focusing solely on Jared.
 
Finally, Greg saw Jared start to stagger slightly. He was walking as if he
were drunk. Greg smiled, but kept thinking the thought, over and over, making
Jared even dizzier. Finally, as Jared reached the top of the stairwell, Greg
increased the strength of his command to Jared. Jared stumbled, and then
tripped over his own feet. There was no longer a wall to hold him up, since he
was at the top of the stairs, and down he went, tumbling head over heels,
bouncing off the concrete steps.
 
Slowly, Greg worked his way through the crowd, to see Jared lying at the
bottom of the stairs, his limbs not looking quite right, and a gash on the
side of his head.
 
As he turned away, Greg grinned to himself and thought, *That will teach the
little mother fucker to mind his own business...*
 


-----
 


Greg was bored. He was sitting in Algebra class, which he had never found
particularly fascinating. They were reviewing, which he found even less so.
 
Once his thoughts began to wander, Greg came back to the topic he'd been
pondering for weeks now: his Ability.
 
*I know that I can make people do exactly what I want them to, if I give them
an order... but what else can I do? Can I make them believe something that
isn't true? Is that possible? Could I maybe make someone see something that
isn't there?*
 
*Well... only one way to find out, right? And it's not like it will get me
into trouble whether it works or not... But who to try it on?*
 
Greg looked around the room, searching for a suitable target. Finally, his
eyes settled on Wallace, a smart but utterly unimaginative black kid.
 
Focusing his thoughts, Greg tried not to look directly at Wallace. He kept
track of his target out of the corner of his eye, instead. He concentrated as
hard as he could, hoping that there would be a reaction.
 


-----
 


*What the heck is going on?* Wallace thought to himself. He was quite certain
that Mr. Grushka had been fully clean-shaven when he'd come into class today.
Now, Wallace saw sideburns appear on his teacher's face.
 
Wallace sat back as he continued to watch his teacher's face change. First,
Mr. Grushka's sideburns grew further down, until they reached his jaw line.
Once they had reached the jaw, the hair moved forward, popping like magic out
of the teacher's skin. It wasn't long before Mr. Grushka was sporting a full
fledged beard, albeit a short one.
 
When Wallace saw Mr. Grushka's eyebrows grow fuller, and a moustache appear,
he shook his head in bewilderment. Only then did he notice the hair growing
out of the back of his teacher's hands.
 
Wallace looked around in a panic, to see if the other kids were noticing the
changes in their teacher, which to Wallace were so evident as to be
undeniable. No one else seemed to take any interest in either the changes, or
Wallace's reaction to them. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
 
*It's just me being tired. There's not really anything there.*
 
By the time Wallace opened his eyes, Mr. Grushka's face was fully furred, as
were the back of his hands. He didn't quite look like Chewbacca, but it was
close. Then, Wallace dropped his pencil. He stared in fear as he saw Mr.
Grushka's face begin to lengthen, his nose and mouth beginning to join into
something that resembled a muzzle, rather than a human face.
 
*Oh, shit! He's a fucking werewolf!* Wallace screamed to himself. Mr.
Grushka's transformation was almost complete when he finally noted Wallace's
reaction.
 
"Grrrarowfrrrgrooorrrr," Wallace heard. What Mr. Grushka actually said was,
"Wallace, are you all right?"
 
Wallace was shaking now. As Mr. Grushka approached him, concerned about his
student, Wallace bolted from his chair, screaming. He was sure the werewolf
was about to attack him.
 
The other students in the class looked at each other in befuddlement. Wallace
was not known to be 'weird', and his behavior certainly fell into that
category. The muttering grew until Mr. Grushka called the class to order.
Shaking his own head, Mr. Grushka tried to return to the review of Algebra.
 


-----
 


*COOL!* Greg thought to himself. He had been able to completely convince
Wallace that his teacher had transformed into a werewolf. Greg had to keep his
smile restrained, since everyone else was confused, and it would be noticed if
he was laughing instead.
 
*Damn, what *can't* I do with these powers?*
 


...---=== http://storm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 


"C'mon, Greg, get out of the fucking bathroom!" Donna called out, irritated
that her brother was going to make her late for school.
 
Greg opened the door, fresh from his shower, and completely nude, standing in
front of her.
 
Donna quickly averted her gaze to look past him. "Crap, can't you ever put
clothes on? You are so disgusting!" She pushed past him into the bathroom. As
she did, Greg reached out with his telekinesis and smacked her on the ass.
 
Figuring it was just his hand, Donna cried out, "Ow! You fucking asshole!" She
slammed the door shut in his face.
 
*Stupid bitch had better watch herself, or I might get annoyed. Nice ass,
though.*
 


-----
 


Greg stifled a yawn. The only excitement he'd had all day was to find out that
Wallace had been committed to a mental institution some two hundred miles
away, to resolve his hallucinatory episodes.
 
*Let them try to figure that shit out,* he thought to himself. *Especially
when he doesn't have another episode, ever. Well, unless I get hold of him
again... Hey, I wonder if I can reach him this far away...*
 
After several minutes of trying - while ignoring his History lesson - Greg
gave up. He simply had no way to grasp a mind at that distance.
 
*Shit. Well, let's try something else, then. But what? I don't want to push my
luck too far in public. It's not like I can have Kylie strip or something.
Though that would be pretty hot.*
 
*Maybe I should work more on my telekinesis. It seems like that's more useful.
At least, right now it seems to be. The mental stuff might be more useful
later, when I get better at it. So, anyway, what should I try? I know I can
lift heavy stuff, and I can lift light stuff... but you know, I think maybe my
dexterity with it needs some practice. I don't really have any fine control
over things.*
 
*So... what do I do to fix that?*
 
After several more minutes of consideration, Greg got an idea. There was an
overweight kid in the class, her name was Tammy. She was sitting two rows away
from him, and her appearance disgusted him. He thought it was time to play his
own particular brand of practical joke on her.
 
Greg lowered his gaze, as if to look at his History book, but what he was
really doing was visualizing. His extension snaked out from his body and
slithered across the floor. When it reached Tammy's desk, he made damned sure
not to touch her. He didn't want her to get suspicious, plus the thought of
touching her grossed him out.
 
Forming his extension into the right shape, he inserted it into one of the
screws in her desk. He tried to twist, but his extension merely twisted around
itself.
 
*How the hell do I fix that?* he wondered. After a few more thoughts, he
decided to see if he could imagine his extension as a rigid bar, with the
cross tip at the end. It was as if his extension had really become a
screwdriver.
 
It was several strenuous tries later before the screw turned at all. Once it
did, however, it was merely a matter of keeping up the pressure until it was
loose. Greg left the screw in just far enough to hold it in place, while he
set to work on the other screws in the desk.
 
When Greg was about three-quarters the way through with his task, he could
sense the desk beginning to creak. He quickly removed a few of the loosened
screws, in strategic places. Apparently, Tammy heard or felt the desk's
creaking, as well, because she shifted herself in the chair.
 
At that precise moment, one of the chair's supports gave out, its screw
missing, it simply could not hold up under the strain. The desk collapsed, and
Tammy spilled to the floor. Everyone in the room was laughing, and Tammy was
mortified. She picked herself up from the floor and ran from the room, sobbing.
 
Greg sat back, amused by his little stunt, but also impressed with himself,
that he'd been able to figure out how to do something so precise as to remove
screws from over eight feet away.
 
*Damn I'm good.*
 


...---=== http://storm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 


*"I told you that greatness awaited you," the presence said.*
 
*"It is fucking cool," Greg agreed. "I'm just wondering where my limits are."*
 
*"The power of life and death is yours to grasp," the silky voice replied.
"You are the ultimate authority."*
 
*"You mean, kill someone? Damn, that's a pretty big step... I'm not sure Im
ready to cross that line yet."*
 
*"Perhaps you already have..." the voice suggested. At that, the world around
them dimmed, and Greg found himself in something like a normal dream, only it
was more memory than dream.*
 
*Greg was a younger child, eight years old. He remembered the day vividly. He
was sitting on a chair in his father's garage.*
 
*"Now, you'll sit there until you can learn to behave and treat your sister
fairly."*
 
*"She's a tattle-tale and a brat!" he heard himself reply.*
 
*"It doesn't matter what she is, Greg. You're the one that hit first. Now you
just sit there and let me get this work done."*
 
*Greg sat, sulking, watching his father attempt to rebuild an old electrical
generator. They were hoping to use it as a backup for when the electric
service went out, which was about three times a week. Greg was angry at the
world, and most especially angry at his father for siding with his sister.*
 
*Greg's eyes wandered around the room as his anger festered. When he looked
up, he saw the extension ladder tied in place among the joists. He thought to
himself that if one end swung down, his dad would get a good klonk on the
head. He imagined it happening, as clear as day.*
 
*Suddenly, just as he finished visualizing, it seemed that the knot on one end
of the ladder came loose. Almost in slow motion, Greg watched as the ladder
swung down from its place, hurtling toward his father.*
 
*When the ladder struck his father in the back of the head, it was traveling
with enough speed that it snapped his father's neck instantly. The man
collapsed to the ground as if his strings were cut, and Greg never spoke to
his father again...*
 
*"You mean *I* did that?" Greg asked in shock, once the image had faded and
the chasm-world had returned.*
 
*"You might also remember, it was the first day we spoke," the voice replied
in answer. "You are the judge and jury. And you have already been the
executioner."*
 


-----
 


Greg bolted upright in bed. *I killed Dad.* Long minutes of non-thought passed
through Greg's mind, and then a slow, evil smile spread across his lips. *If I
did that to my Dad, what the fuck does it matter what I do to anyone else?*
 


...---=== http://storm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 


Greg walked through school several days later, feeling almost as if he was
floating above everyone else. While the others around him had scarcely been
people to him before, now they were only objects, to do with as he pleased and
tossed away when he was finished. Any semblance of a conscience he'd had, had
died when he'd found out what he'd done to his father.
 
It was lunch time, and he slowly made his way to the cafeteria, just watching
the "things" called people move around him. As he neared the lunch room, a
shoving match broke out between two toughs.
 
Greg didn't like either of these kids; they were competition for his status as
biggest badass in the school. He sent a mental command to one of them to
escalate the fight, and soon punches were thrown.
 
"All right, break it up, you two!" the principal shouted as he came down the
hall. All the other kids scattered, but Greg watched from a discreet distance.
 
Another command to the same kid had him swinging on the principal. The
administrator was hardly ready for a student to take a swing at him, and when
it connected, the principal crumpled to the ground, stunned into inaction.
 
The two toughs resumed their fight, and Greg enjoyed the show until it looked
like one was getting too much of an upper hand, which meant the fight would be
over soon. To the boy that was losing, Greg sent the command, *<Punch him with
all the strength you have left.>*
 
The boy pulled his arm back, and then let his fist fly with every ounce of
strength he could muster. The boy could not know that, timed perfectly with
his punch, Greg's extension was also now moving toward the target. When the
two forces connected with the other boy's face, the combined strength first
broke the boy's cheek bone, but it twisted his head so violently that the neck
broke with a loud *snap!*
 
Instantly, the boy collapsed, dead where he stood. The sight of the boy
galvanized the principal into action, who crawled over to the body, and then
looked up at the other boy.
 
"What the hell did you do? He's *dead*!"
 
The other boy, suddenly terrified of the consequences of what he thought were
his actions, bolted for the door. Greg, still unnoticed by the principal, made
his way around a corner and then took a deep breath.
 
*So, my first murder. No, my second one. This was just the first one I was
fully aware of at the time.*
 
*Doesn't feel like much. But then, you don't laugh *or* cry when you step on
an ant.*
 
Greg counted to fifty, and then stepped back around the corner. The principal
had not moved. The boy, of course, would never move again. Greg simply strode
by the two where they lay, and made his way into the lunch room.
 


...---=== http://storm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 


"Greg, could you please take this box of clothes up to the attic for me? It's
the winter stuff, and we need to get it out of the way."
 
"Fine," Greg replied, irritated to have to deal with such mundane tasks.
 
"Thanks. I'm going to go take a shower, so please don't run any water."
 
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
 
"Okay, Sweetie. Thanks."
 
Greg sighed heavily as he looked at the box of clothes. He considered carrying
it the normal way for all of three seconds before saying to hell with that. He
grabbed the box with his extension, and he lifted it into the air. He let it
trail behind him as he trudged up the attic stairs. He let the box thump down
into place in an empty spot, and turned to go.
 
Before he did, though, he changed his mind. He hadn't been up in the attic in
a while, and he wondered if there was anything at all interesting up here. He
was bored, and just needed something to do. It had been several weeks since
he'd killed the boy at school. He'd killed two other people since, and the
thrill of it was fading. It just wasn't at all challenging.
 
*Well, let's see if there's anything worth my time up here.*
 
Most of what was in the attic was complete crap. It was full of old broken or
forgotten items that no one wanted, or else they wouldn't be in the attic. He
found one box carefully taped shut, which he didn't think twice about opening.
Inside, he found the box crammed full of some magazine called "Hustler". After
a few glances, which lingered on some pages, he decided the collection must
have been his father's, and he put them away. He would study them later, of
course, but just now he wanted to finish his exploration of the attic.
 
In a dark corner of the attic, Greg found a small trunk. He opened it to find
it full of old formal clothes. A closer inspection showed one of them to be
his mother's wedding dress, though it looked ready to fall apart, now.
 
Buried inside the trunk was a lockbox. The difficulty here was that it was
actually locked.
 
*Wonder what's inside this? I suppose I could just pry it open... but no,
let's see if I can use my TK to pick the lock.*
 
Greg knew how to pick a lock in only the very vaguest of terms. He wormed his
way inside the lock, trying to feel his way along. He knew that inside the
lock were pins, and that the key would raise certain pins, but not raise
others, so that the lock would turn and then open. He wasn't really sure how
he was supposed to tell which pins to raise.
 
After fifteen minutes, Greg was beginning to grow frustrated. He simply
couldn't seem to get the lock to turn. It really annoyed him when he couldn't
work things out, and finally he had enough.
 
"Fuck it!" he grumbled, and he took the box into his psionic grasp, and ripped
the lid right off it. Papers tumbled out.
 
"Aw, shit. All that was in there was a bunch of fucking paper? Crap."
 
After a second of fuming, Greg decided that anything sealed in a box that
tightly had to be in some way important, so he decided to take a closer look
at the paperwork. He heard the shower stop just as he picked up the first
sheet, which turned out to be Donna's birth certificate.
 
*That's not worth locking up,* Greg said to himself. He tossed it aside. Then
he picked up the next group of papers, which were all stapled together. Greg
read the title of the forms.
 
*What the fuck?* Greg's blood boiled as the word "adoption" blazed from the
papers into his brain. *I'm not even really their kid? And they never fucking
told me? What kind of bullshit is this? She is going to pay for this!*
 
Greg bolted for the attic stairs.
 


-----
 


Helen Parson was still nude, having just finished drying herself off. She was
just reaching for her panties when the bedroom door burst open. She was
shocked to see her son storming toward her, an angry look on his face and some
kind of paper in his hand.
 
"What the fuck is this shit!" Greg screamed, waving the paper at her. Helen
still couldn't see what it was.
 
"What is what, Honey?" she asked, trying to calm him down.
 
Greg was way past the point of being able to be calmed down. He hadn't even
taken much notice of the fact that his mother was completely naked. He used
his forearm to push her back against the wall, as he would one of his
classmates. Helen was somewhat taller than her thirteen-year-old son, however,
which meant that, instead of going across her collarbone as his forearm
normally would have, it went across her tits. His left hand landed squarely on
her left tit, while his elbow mashed her right breast flat. Helen was actually
having some trouble breathing now.
 
"What is *this*!" Greg screamed, holding the paper inches from her face. It
took her a long moment just to focus on it. When she read the words, she went
pale.
 
"You weren't supposed to find those," she said quietly. She couldn't look her
son in the eyes now.
 
"No fucking shit!" he yelled. In his anger, his hand squeezed her tit so hard
it made her wince in pain. His fingers were like a claw. "Locked in the
deepest, darkest corner of the attic, buried under a pile of clothes in a
rotting trunk! I just guess I wasn't supposed to find it! What the hell!"
 
Helen closed her eyes. "Yes, Greg. You were adopted. We didn't want to tell
you because we thought you'd get upset."
 
"Upset? Why would I fucking get upset? Just because some assholes threw me
away like yesterday's garbage? And *you*! You couldn't even be bothered to
have me the old-fashioned way, by *fucking*! No, you had to get me out of some
baby-o-matic vending service!"
 
Helen seized on this opportunity to hopefully talk some sense into her son.
"Greg, no... when we adopted you, it wasn't like it is now. You couldn't just
walk in and buy a baby, it was diff-AAHHH!" 

Helen screamed because her son suddenly, and viciously, twisted her nipple.
"Don't give me any of your fucking double-talk! You couldn't even be bothered
to birth me!"
 
"Greg, I can't have kids anymore. That's *why* we adopted!"
 
"Don't give me any bullshit! You had that bitch of a sister just *fine*!" Greg
twisted both nipples now, using his body weight to hold her against the wall.
 
Helen screamed in pain. Her nipples were on fire. "Please, Greg! Stop! I can't
have any more kids now! My pregnancy with Donna went very badly! Ow, Honey,
please! After she was born, I had a complete hysterectomy! I can't have kids!"
 
At that, Greg stopped twisting her nipples, but he didn't let her up. He was
still holding her against the wall, now his hands were resting on her breasts,
holding her in place. His face was tormented and angry. Finally, he spoke.
 
"Who are my real parents?" he asked, a low, grumbling tone to his voice.
 
"I'm your real mother, Greg," Helen said. "I'm the mother who raised you from
a baby. I'm the one who-"
 
"Shut up!" Greg yelled. He reached down and shoved his hand between his
mother's legs. He was taking full advantage of her nudity. He grabbed her clit
between his fingers and pinched, hard.
 
Helen shrieked in pain. She was bathed in a cold sweat.
 
"Who are my real parents?" Greg demanded to know.
 
"Your mother died in childbirth," Helen gasped out through the pain. "Your
father was too distraught to raise you! He knew it was better for you to have
a good, solid home than - AAAAH, please let me go!"
 
Greg was actually twisting her clit now. He stopped that, and then hooked one
finger into her pussy. He then used his thumb to press down on her clit just
as hard as he could.
 
"I'm only going to ask you just one more time, who are my parents!!"
 
Through gritted teeth, Helen cried out, "Ron Chaffey! Your father is Ron
Chaffey!"
 
Greg was so stunned, his hand dropped free from his mother's pussy. His other
one remained in place on her tit, however.
 
"*The* Ron Chaffey?" he asked.
 
Helen was now gasping for air, trying to recover from the intense pain she had
just been in. "Yes, the leader of the PPA. He's your father. Your mother was
one of his... wives, or girlfriends, or whatever. I don't know her name, but
she died when you were born."
 
Helen enjoyed the respite while her son digested this information. She knew
that she was in trouble when his gaze darkened. His next question was the one
she feared most.
 
"Where is he?" Greg asked. She could see the rage seething beneath the surface.
 
"I don't know," she replied honestly.
 
Greg slapped her, hard, across the face. "Don't lie to me, bitch! Where is he!"
 
"I really don't know, Honey!" she cried.
 
"If you don't tell me, the next thing I do to you is gonna hurt worse than
anything I've done so far!"
 
"I don't know!" she screamed.
 
"All right, you fucking bitch, play it your way!" Greg grabbed her by the hair
and dragged her over to the bed. He shoved her down onto it face-first, and
then climbed on after her. He pulled her up until she was on her knees, but
her face was still buried in the blanket.
 
Greg undid his pants, and pulled his dick free. He had been hard for a long
time just from overpowering his mother the way he had. He put the head of his
dick to her ass, and didn't bother giving her any chance to get ready. He put
his full weight behind his thrust.
 
Helen's scream ripped from her throat. Only the covers muffled it somewhat, or
it would have been extremely painful in the small bedroom.
 
"Oh, Jesus, please, Honey, stop! I don't know! I honestly don't know! Oh, God,
someone help me! Greg, Sweetie, Stop! Oh, ffffffffuck!"
 
Greg was surprised to hear his mother curse, but he didn't exactly care,
either. He shoved himself all the way into her without slowing down or
stopping.
 
"You want me to do it again?" he demanded. "Tell me!"
 
"I don't goddamned know!" she sobbed through her tears of pain.
 
Greg had to pause then. He knew that he'd reached his mother's pain threshold;
she wasn't able to take more pain willingly, so she wasn't hiding any
information anymore.
 
The trouble for Greg now was that he was horny as all hell from shoving his
dick up a very tight hole.
 
Greg pulled out of his mother, and he saw the shit on his dick. He grinned at
that.
 
"Okay, fine. You don't know. I'll have to find that out some other way. But
right now, you're gonna be my slut."
 
Just as he was about to put his dick to her pussy, Helen slithered away from
him. "No, please don't put that in me, Greg! It's dirty, and it'll give me an
infection and make me very sick! If you're going to do that, please clean it
off first." She had resigned herself to whatever her son was going to do to
her at this point.
 
Greg glared at his mother for moving away from him, but her words gave him an
evil idea. "Fine, you want it cleaned off?" He reached forward and grabbed her
hair, forcing her head into his crotch. "Do it with your mouth!"
 
Helen was so shocked by his actions and words that she didn't have time to
close her mouth before Greg had shoved his fully-erect cock into it. She
immediately tasted the foulness, and nearly gagged. Greg continued to shove
his prick into her mouth until it reached the back of her throat, then he
started to fuck her face with his dick.
 
"Make sure it's good and clean, Mom, 'cause I'm still gonna fuck you with it
afterward."
 
Helen felt her gorge rising, but she fought it down as she licked his cock
clean. She didn't want to get an infection; she couldn't afford the time off
work.
 
Once Greg felt she'd had enough time to clean him up, he pulled out of her.
Immediately, Helen rolled over to the side of the bed, leaned over the edge,
and threw up. She retched until there was nothing more to come out.
 
When she rolled onto her back, her son was right there. "Clean enough for you,
bitch?" he asked.
 
Helen just nodded weakly, still dizzy from the vomiting. She was fully aware
when Greg slid his dick into her pussy, though. Out of instinct, she wrapped
her legs around his waist, to hold him in place. This was how her husband
liked to fuck her.
 
Greg sneered at her, and began to ram his cock deep into her cunt. Helen
grunted with each thrust, her body sore and aching from the mistreatment it
had received. She hoped that it wouldn't last much longer.
 
Greg's thrusts rocked Helen's body, and he was groaning with the strain of
holding in his climax. He was enjoying the sheer nastiness of fucking his
mother, and didn't want it to end just yet. Finally, though, he realized he'd
reach the point of no return. He had to either stop, or go for it, and he
wasn't about to stop. He sped up even more, and in just a few more seconds,
his cum exploded from his cock, filling up his mother's twat with his seed.
 
For long moments, Greg spasmed above his mother, his eyes squeezed tightly
shut. Once he was finished, he opened his eyes, and looked down at her. Helen
flinched at the hatred she saw there.
 
"I want to thank you, Mother Dear, for what you have done," Greg said in a
sweet voice that didn't fool her in the least. He placed his hands ever so
gently on either side of her head. While his dick was still buried inside her
cunt, Greg said, "Thank you for lying to me all these years." With that, he
twisted his hands viciously, instantly snapping Helen's neck.
 
Only then did he pull his cock from inside her.
 


-----
 


Greg had spent his time profitably, and by the time that Donna returned from
her part-time job, he was ready for her. He heard her come in the front door.
 
"Mom, I'm home!" she called out, as usual. He sensed, rather than heard, her
pause to wait for a response, which was not forthcoming. Donna shrugged; it
was not unheard of for her mother to go out for the evening. She walked back
to her bedroom to change.
 
When she turned the light on in her bedroom, Greg smiled at her. He was
sitting on the edge of her bed.
 
"What the hell do you want, jerk?" she said with a snarl. She was two years
older than him, but she was no bigger than he was. She didn't like the way he
was staring at her. He could tell. "Why are you in my room? Where's Mom?"
Donna's voice quivered slightly on that last question.
 
"Gone," was all Greg said in reply as he stood up.
 
"What do you mean, gone? What did you do to Mom?" she demanded as he
approached her.
 
Greg reached out like a flash and grabbed Donna's wrist. "I think you should
be far more worried about what I'm going to do to you."
 
Greg turned and, using his extension, threw Donna on the bed. She landed on
her back, and he was on her faster than she could react. He grabbed one wrist
and slipped it through a loop of fabric, which quickly tightened on her wrist
so that she could not get it off. She saw that it had already been tied to the
headboard of her bed. As she was realizing this, Greg already had her other
wrist bound in a similar fashion.
 
Greg was much more cautious about her feet; he knew she could kick hard. He
actually used his extension to grab her ankle, and then he looped the fabric
over it and pulled it tight. A few more seconds, and her other foot was tied
off, as well. Now his sister was tied down to her bed, but she still had a lot
of motion, because he had left extra length, rather than end up with
restraints that were too short for his victim.
 
Starting at the feet, Greg set about remedying the problem. He adjusted each
of the ties so that Donna's movement was limited to little more than a few
inches in both legs. Meanwhile, she was cursing him and ordering him to let
her go.
 
"Shut up," he finally said to her, and slapped her hard across the face. He
enjoyed watching the redness spread across her cheek. He reveled in the tears
in her eyes.
 
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked, afraid of the answer.
 
"You'll find out soon enough," he replied. "But you're wearing far too many
clothes for me to do it properly."
 
Greg reached out and took hold of Donna's blouse and pulled it open, popping
buttons off all over the place. He knew that he had no hope of actually
tearing the fabric, homemade shirt or not. The bra beneath the blouse was a
similarly lost cause to his physical strength.
 
Luckily for him, physical strength wasn't the only thing he had going for him.
He reached out with his extension and ripped the blouse from his sister's
body. Donna recognized that her brother hadn't moved.
 
As he was forcibly tearing her bra off with his powers, she said, "You're one
of them, aren't you?"
 
"Yes, yes I am," he replied matter-of-factly. He reached down with his hand
and unfastened her jeans, then used his extension to rip them to shreds. Now
he was looking down at just her panties, and he reached out and caressed them.
 
"Please, Greg... don't do this."
 
"Stop being such a fucking crybaby," he replied. He took hold of her panties
and ripped them off using both his hands and his ability. He gazed upon his
sister's pussy for the first time, and enjoyed the sight of it. It was nearly
hairless, and he could see her perfect pink lips just waiting to caress his
cock.
 
Greg put his hand on Donna's belly, and first ran it up to cup one of her
breasts. They were ample, for her age, and he enjoyed tweaking her nipple and
watching her face contort. He knew she was trying to fight the pleasure that
her body was feeling, and it amused him to watch the struggle. He wondered
just which side would win.
 
After several minutes of running his hands back and forth over her tits, Greg
moved his hand down to rest between Donna's legs. He let his finger slide over
her clit, and he saw her jump. He smiled at that, and then slipped his finger
down to her pussy, and tried to slide it in, but - 

"You're still a virgin?" he asked incredulously.
 
"Yes! And I want to stay that way until I get married! Let me go!"
 
Greg chuckled. "Oh, no. We can't have that. Haven't you heard? Virginity is a
sin."
 
Greg leaned down and flicked his tongue over Donna's clit. Donna squealed in
spite of herself, and her hips rolled up at him. He continued to work over her
clit, and Donna grew more and more aroused. She was ashamed of herself for it,
but simply could not help reacting.
 
After a while, Greg moved his mouth from her clit up her body. He kissed her
skin along the way until he reached her tits. Once there, he found a nipple
and sucked it between his lips. His tongue wiggled across the little nubbin as
he undressed himself and climbed onto the bed. Donna had closed her eyes long
before, and she didn't really notice his actions.
 
Greg switched to her other nipple, and Donna sighed involuntarily. At that
very moment, Greg lined up his dick and thrust as hard as he could. His cock
head speared her maidenhead, tearing it painfully. Donna screamed out her
agony.
 
"Oh, God, Greg, you didn't! Oh, fuck this hurts! Shit!"
 
Greg did not stop and wait for her pain to ease, but instead set about fucking
her with a fast rhythm. He pounded her pussy hard, and she was soon crying out
in discomfort. He reached down and mauled her tits, fucking her for all he was
worth.
 
Donna was crying now, both from the pain, and the shame she felt. Greg looked
down at her and could not help himself.
 
"Don't worry about it, Donna. You belong to me now. I'm the only guy you're
ever going to fuck, anyway, so it's not important."
 
Donna looked up at him in total despair. He had just claimed her as property,
and she knew that she had no way to fight him.
 
"Just lie back and enjoy it," he said, grunting as he thrust into her
repeatedly.
 
Donna did just that, doing what she could to make the best of a horrible
situation. It galled her that her body was actually reacting, and that she
could feel herself becoming aroused. Her pussy was already wet, and the
initial pain was beginning to subside, she noted thankfully.
 
Greg also noted that she was no longer uncomfortable. With his extension, he
reached out and untied her hands and feet. He knew she didn't have the
strength to fight him off at this point. He pulled out of her, and then slid
up her body. He stopped for a moment to run his dick back and forth across her
tits, but then he slid up further.
 
"You're going to suck me off now. If you even think about trying to hurt me,
you will regret it big time. Got it?" Donna nodded fearfully, and then Greg
pressed his dick to her lips. She grudgingly allowed the intruder into her
mouth. Greg used her mouth as just another hole, sliding his dick in and out
of it while she kept a tight seal. She could feel him tensing, and she knew he
was about to come in her mouth. She had never tasted cum before, and she hoped
it didn't make her sick.
 
A few seconds more, and Greg spewed a load of jism deep into her mouth. After
he was done spurting, she swallowed, and then he pulled out of her mouth.
 
Greg rolled to the side, grabbing Donna to make sure she didn't try to do
something foolish like leave. He played with her body, as he knew this would
arouse him quickly. He reached down between her legs and plunged his fingers
deep into her pussy. When he pulled them out and looked at them, he could see
the stain of blood.
 
"Ooh, look at that. You bled a lot!" Donna closed her eyes and turned her
head, but she felt Greg press something to her lips. "Suck it off," he
ordered. Donna opened her mouth, and felt his fingers enter. She sucked on
them, cleaning off her juices, and her blood, from them.
 
It was only a couple minutes before Greg was hard again, and Donna felt his
cock poking her in the ass. She waited in dread for whatever he planned to do
next; she knew that fighting a psionic was absolutely pointless.
 
Greg rolled her onto her belly, and then pulled her up onto her hands and
knees. Once she was positioned how he wanted her, he slid his dick back into
her cunt and started to stroke again. Donna felt her heat rising as his
thrusts rubbed against her G-spot. She groaned in frustration when he stopped
and pulled out of her.
 
"Oh, liking that, were we? Well, this isn't about what *you* like."
 
With that, Greg pushed her back down onto the bed, but he kept her legs spread
apart. Then, he pressed the head of his now-well-lubed dick to her rosebud.
 
"Oh, God, no!" she pleaded.
 
"Oh, yeah," he replied with a sneer, and then pressed into her. He used his
bodyweight to force his dick into her ass, but not nearly as harshly as he had
into his mother. Donna was still intensely uncomfortable, however, and she
pleaded with him several times to stop.
 
Once Greg was buried to the hilt in her ass, he did stop. He looked down at
her, and then used his extension to caress her ass cheeks.
 
"Relax, you'll enjoy it more," he said, and then started to slide out a
little. He started a series of short but quick thrusts that had Donna bouncing
on the bed. Her squeaks of pain were actually starting to turn into moans of
pleasure. Greg wasn't quite ready for her to be enjoying herself, though. He
thrust into her harder and deeper a few times, returning her to that state of
pain and discomfort, then he slowed, and pulled out of her ass.
 
Donna wasn't sure if she was frustrated because he'd stopped, or grateful
beyond belief. When he rolled her over, she couldn't read his expression. She
didn't stop him as he put his dick to her pussy and pressed in again. He set
up a much faster pace in her pussy, and her heat began to rise quickly, her
passion climbing toward ecstasy.
 
Greg knew exactly how close his sister was to coming. He worked his hips and
shoved his cock deeper and deeper into her, then he looked down into her eyes,
which were somewhat glazed.
 
"I do have a problem," he told her. He saw her register that he was speaking,
but she was too far gone to answer him. "You belong to me, but I can't take
you with me where I'm going."
 
Donna nodded, but he wasn't sure she comprehended the situation. Which was
perfectly fine with him.
 
"Come for me, Donna. Come on your little brother's cock."
 
Greg leaned down and did something he hadn't done with either Helen or Donna
before: he kissed her. He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, letting his
tongue tango with hers.
 
At that very moment, Donna's orgasm washed over her. Her body shuddered and
bucked beneath her brother.
 
At the very height of her orgasm, Greg wrapped his psionic extension around
her neck and squeezed tightly. He squeezed until there was no chance that she
could ever breath again. He broke their kiss at that point, and watched as the
life drifted out of her, her face forever frozen in a mix of agony and ecstasy.
 
Greg pulled his still-hard dick from her body, and then, kneeling over her, he
jacked himself off. He blew his load all over his dead sister's tits.
 
As he climbed off the bed, he looked back at his sister and said, "Sorry to
just come and go, Sis, but I have to go kill my father."
 


...---=== http://storm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
...---=== http://storm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 




