Author: Pervitron
Title: Annunciation
Summary:  There's just something about that boy that is 
strangely compelling. All the other moms seem as 
fascinated by him as she is... 
Keywords: mF, mf,Mdom, mc, ped, viol, humil
 

WARNING: The following story contains graphic descrip-
 tions of a sexual nature. It is intended for mature
 persons only. Any persons not old enough to legally
 receive adult materials or who are offended by them
 should read no farther. Further distribution of this
 story--and all others of this nature by this author--is
 permissible only to appropriate persons and only if the
 contents and author credit are unchanged.

 NOTES:

 1. Copyright (c) May 1999.

 2. The persons and situations depicted in this story
 are entirely fictitious. Any similarities to actual
 persons or situations are completely unintentional and
 coincidental.

 3. Reader comments and feedback are always encouraged;
 send to Pervitron@Hotmail.com

 4. This story may be copied for free distribution,
 provided the author credit is retained.


________________________________________________________


Annunciation
By Pervitron

Linda Wentworth pulled the van into her driveway, and when she
stopped she heard some of the grocery bags tumble over. Normally,
something like that would get her annoyed, but today, for some
reason, it didn't disturb the feeling of warmth that began when
she turned onto her street. She realized that she finally felt at
home here.  She got out of the car and took a deep breath,
enjoying the scent of the late summer air and the sight of her
home.  It was such a lovely house, a big, century old home on a
quiet street.   A small town America street with sidewalks, the
shade of huge oak trees, and neighbors that said hello as they
walked by. In the difficult times when they first arrived here,
Linda clung to its beauty - the sight of it consoled her. She
sent pictures of it to all her friends, as if to say, "See, it
was worth it, for a home like this." 

The past few months had been painful for her family.  They were
city people; they would have never have thought of moving
anywhere, not to mention a small town like this, if it wasn't for
her husband's transfer.   Jim was determined not to miss this
opportunity. The move to company headquarters came with a major
promotion. He wanted it badly, and he used all his persuasiveness
to convince her to go along.  He told her that small town life
would be better, he brought up all the times that Linda herself
complained about the way New York was corrupting her children. So
Linda went along, as she always did. The initial loneliness that
she felt here had hardened into resentment. So many nights she
sat on the porch, waiting for him. Jim spent almost all of his
evenings in the office, trying to make a good impression on his
new bosses.   Never mind that she was home, feeling lonely,
simmering because in the months since they'd moved here, they had
sex exactly four times.   

The children hated it too.  Cindy, their eight year old, left
behind a class full of friends, kids she'd known since the first
grade. She hadn't been able to meet any new friends in the brief
month she had in her new school before the summer started.  So
she spent all summer alone in the backyard, just swimming back
and forth in the pool. Linda would stand in the window and watch
her swimming, feeling sorry for the child. She'd wonder if Jim's
promotion was worth it. 

Timmy, their twelve year old, was the only one in the family that
seemed to be adjusting to their new community. This was in spite
of the fact that he was the one who was the angriest initially.
Timmy had started to act sullen and distant long before they
moved here. Jim and Linda attributed it to the stress of puberty.
Timmy wasn't very popular, he was a thin, bookish boy, and now
that he was at the age when interest in girls start, and sports
become important, he was lost.  Linda hated to admit it, she felt
sorry for him, but he was, after all, a bit of a geek.  She knew
the kids made fun of him in school, and she hated the idea of her
son being treated like that.  

The move was devastating to him, because he lacked the skills to
make any new friends. He spent the first few weeks after they
arrived holed up in his room with the stereo on. She wondered
what he did in there, the music sounded, well, frightening. The
rhythmic hammering of the rap music that he liked felt like an
assault, and she knew better than to listen to the words they
were saying. 

Linda ignored this behavior for as long as she could, but
finally, when the fear of losing contact with him forever got too
unbearable, she pleaded with Jim to do something. She was hoping
that Jim would reconsider the whole move, but he came up with the
seemingly hopeless idea of making him join the local boy scouts.
Jim said it was all they had to work with, he reminded her that
Timmy had always enjoyed the scouts back in New York. He liked
the hiking, the overnight camping trips upstate, and the small
group of friend he had.  These were boys like himself that lived
on the fringes, boys whose mothers still took them to scout
meetings.  Friends that he kept right up to the day they moved
away.
   
Much to their surprise, after a few weeks of forcing him to go to
the local scout meetings, Timmy began to fit in. It was no longer
a battle to make him go.  He became friendly with several boys.
One was Marco, a quiet Hispanic boy who was originally from
Chicago. His family moved here about a year ago, so it seemed
Timmy and he could relate to one another as relative strangers to
the town.  Greg was another. A tall, blond-haired athletic boy,
he was friendly and outgoing, he seemed to be blessed with all
the qualities that Timmy lacked. When Timmy spoke of Greg, Linda
could hear an undertone of hero worship.  There was another boy
they hung around with a lot.  His name was Jeremy.  Linda had
never seen him, and while Timmy seldom spoke of him, she realized
that he was always part of their group. And they did talk a lot
on the phone.

Linda opened the back of the van, and carried the groceries
inside. It was mostly snacks and junk food.  The scouts were
coming over to spend the day with Timmy. This was the first time
they visited her home.   In fact, it was the first time that
anyone else from the town would visit.  Now she knew another
reason for her warm feelings this afternoon.  It was hope,
because if Timmy could fit in here, than maybe she could as well. 

***

The boys were having a good time. They spent a few hours playing
basketball in the yard, and then they watched a James Bond movie
in Timmy's room.

Now Linda was preparing their lunch, cooking hamburgers and hot
dogs on the grill outside while they sat around the table on the
deck.  Everything was going nicely, they all seemed to be having
a good time, talking about baseball and a camping trip they would
be going on next month.   As she stood there, Linda listened to
their chatter. She paid particular attention to what Jeremy said,
since she didn't know him well. This was the first occasion she
had to spend a lot of time around the group, and she noticed that
Jeremy seemed to control things.  He seemed to be a natural
leader, he moved the conversation where he wanted, and she could
feel the other three boys fall in line with any opinion he
expressed. This surprised her, because while Timmy spoke often of
Marco and Greg, he almost never mentioned Jeremy.

She glanced at him while she grilled the food.

There was something striking about him.  He had the angelic looks
of a choirboy just before their bodies shed their childhood
beauty. His hair was the lightest blond, and it was kept
unusually long, falling in gentle waves almost to his shoulders,
like a girl's. His skin, though, was darker than you'd expect
from his hair, and it had a copper tinge, almost like a Native
American's.   His face was flat, and overly round. She wondered
at his ethnicity, she listened closely to his voice and detected
an accent that lurked beneath a generation or two of English.  
Russian, she thought, but from somewhere far in the East, as if
he had Mongolian blood as well. 

He was the same size as the other boys, maybe even slightly
shorter.  But his body was covered with small, tight muscles, as
if he worked out.  He had a certain hyperactive, frenetic energy,
always darting about in quick movements, even sitting around the
table with the other boys, his hands and his feet were always
moving.  Linda wondered how his mother ever got him to sleep at
night. He had the nervous energy of a dynamo.  

And, then, while she glanced at him he looked up at her and she
met his eyes.

Jeremy had the eyes of a reptile, his hard, bullet black pupils
were surrounded by light green irises.  His dark blond eyebrows
swept away from the bridge of his nose like the wings of a hawk.
His look seemed to stop time; for a moment the voices of the
other boys receded into the background. Indeed the whole world
became silent while the small boy studied her. It was just a
brief glance, but it seemed to take an eternity. When the boy
looked back to his friends Linda's heart clenched in a single,
desperate beat, as if her blood had stopped while he studied her. 
 
She turned back to the grill, and she felt a few beads of sweat
surface on her forehead.  "Christ!" she thought, and she realized
that she was shaking slightly. She felt an extraordinary anxiety. 

She felt violated.  She knew that something had been taken from
her.

Timmy and the other boys continued talking and laughing, they
hadn't even noticed the momentary exchange.  They continued
enjoying their lunch, giggling at some private joke.  For just a
millisecond, Linda wondered if she was the joke, she wondered if
her jeans were too tight, if her underwear was showing.  She
looked down, busily working at the food, but still thinking of
Jeremy, the strangeness of that look.  She could feel him looking
up at her occasionally, but for some reason she didn't dare look
at his eyes again.

She realized that he was studying her closely.   The talk of the
boys drifted on to some borderline subjects.  Jeremy started
talking about some fights that he had in school.   Some kids that
he beat up.   Normally, boys wouldn't talk about things like this
within earshot of adults, but Jeremy seemed to lack any such
inhibition.   Linda listened closely to their conversation, she
could hear the hesitation in the voices of Greg, Marco, and
especially Timmy. The boys were uncomfortable; they kept looking
at her with nervous glances, expecting her to say something.  
But she was only marginally aware of them - her full being was
focused on Jeremy, there was something about him that held her
attention in a sort of fascination. Jeremy was describing how he
beat up a second grader, how he kept smacking him until he
started to cry, and did what Jeremy wanted. His voice was cool
and distant; he described the assault in crisp, methodical terms,
as if he was describing how he disassembled a toy. 

Linda hung on every word, rooted in an anxious indecision.   Part
of her wanted to cry out: "That's not right."  But there was
something compelling in his talk, he was looking right back at
her, and not warily like the other boys.   He had a look of smug
assurance, like he was hoping Linda would speak, wishing for a
test of wills that he knew he would win.  Linda was stunned into
silence, she just continued wiping the last dish.   She found the
circular movements of her hand comforting as she listened to him,
as she heard the story of what he did to the small child. She
felt so strange, especially when she noticed that underneath all
her anxiety another feeling was blooming within her: she was
becoming intensely aroused.


They spent the rest of the afternoon up in Timmy's room.   It was
unnaturally quiet, she couldn't hear any sounds from his room at
all: not the stereo, not the TV, and not even the sound of any
voices.  The silence felt uneasy, but she knew that she would not
investigate, she didn't want to know what they were doing. She
just wanted to be away from Jeremy, she needed the distance to
regroup, to search herself and find out what it was the boy took
from her.   She felt so violated; she couldn't stop thinking of
his eyes.  The way they drilled into her, searched her, she felt
like he saw something about her, something so deep and so private
that she was only dimly aware of it herself. No, there was
something underneath this - there was something about this boy
that was extraordinarily attractive. She lay back on the couch,
and folded her arms across her chest.  She tried to pull herself
together. "Maybe it's just me," she thought. She realized that
she could never explain this to anyone. After all, nothing really
happened - just a quick look from a boy. She'd sound like an
idiot. "Yes, maybe it's the guilt, I've been so ... needy
lately." Jim hasn't spent an evening home in weeks, she knew from
the past that strange things happened within her if she didn't
get any.   And that would explain the strange arousal, it was the
accumulation of weeks of unsatisfied desire.   "Yes, that's it."
And as she reassured herself, she drifted off to sleep. 

The footsteps on the stairs woke her.   All of them came bounding
into the room, they looked like they were out of breath. They
seemed so animated.   "Bye, Mrs. Wentworth."   They were leaving,
she noticed that it was getting dark.   They scampered out of the
room, and as she started pulling herself to a seated position,
Jeremy came into the room, alone.   

"We can come back tomorrow, right?" 

He caught her in a half-sitting position. She looked up at him
and met his eyes. The boy was irresistible, it didn't matter that
she had a job interview tomorrow - as soon as he asked her she
thought of the lie she would use to postpone it. No, all that
mattered was what he wanted. She wanted to say yes, but she was
unable to speak the effort to form the words and say them was too
much for her, as long as he held her captive.  He could see that,
she knew.   He waited; she wanted to scream from the internal
pressure.   Finally, he deflected his glance slightly, and she
gasped at her chance.   "Y-y-yes, OK, you can come over!"

Complete in his assurance, he just turned and left.
***

For the rest of the night she thought of him.  There was
something unsettled inside her, as if some inner feelings were
rearranged.  She wondered if was safe to allow Timmy to play with
him, there was something about this boy that sent shivers through
Linda.  She decided to call one of the other mothers, to see if
they shared her reaction.  So she called Grace, Greg's mom.
She waited a moment or so in the conversation before asking. 
"What do you think of Jeremy?"

There was a measurable silence, before Grace said:  "He's got an
awful lot of energy, doesn't he?"

"I know."  Linda picked up on her uncertainty, her hesitation. 
"When I see him, I think of the movie 'Gremlins.'  I almost
expect him to spring at me.  He springs out of nowhere sometimes.
He seems like one those little demons."

"Well, not so little really!"  Grace jumped in, then stopped, as
if she was sorry she said it.

"What do you mean?"  

The line was silent for a long moment, then Grace said, "Nothing,
really."  Something awkward hung in the air.  "Have they been in
your pool yet?"
 
"No, why."

"Listen, it's going to be hot tomorrow.   Why not let them go in
your pool?"

***

"Mom, why can't I go in the pool?"   Cindy asked her for what
must have been the twentieth time that day, ever since Tommy
called the boys in the morning and told them to wear their
bathing suits.   Linda was getting angry, even though she knew
that the child had nothing else to do.  She'd spent every nice
day this summer in the pool, but today Linda wanted Timmy and the
boys left alone. 

"I told you, leave Timmy alone with his friends."  She let the
anger and impatience show, she knew she'd scream at Cindy if she
asked again, and she wanted her to know it.  Off she went, Linda
knew she'd sulk all day but she didn't care.  She wanted the boys
to have the pool to themselves.

Once the boys arrived, they lost no time running through the
house and into the backyard.  Linda smiled to herself, enjoying
their happiness. 

They tore their clothes off on the patio, stripping down to the
bathing suits underneath.  Linda watched Jeremy closely, she felt
an intense curiosity to see if his body was as interesting as his
face and his eyes. She wasn't the only one watching.  The other
ones were watching Jeremy as well.  

He was hung like a bull.   So that was what Grace meant!

The rest of his body still had the shapeliness of a child, the
androgynous look of a young boy, a look that was further
accentuated by his shoulder length blond hair.   But he was
packed between his legs.  His mother had bought him a tight,
shiny bathing suit, a neon green pair that seemed designed to
call your attention, and there was a splash of purple color on
the crotch that drew the eye. It was so strange, the contrast
between his angelic face and the big bulge of flesh between his
legs, a thick ridge of meat that looked almost obscene, even
covered within his suit.  Linda wondered what Jeremy's mother was
thinking, calling attention to her son in that way.   But then
she understood. She looked at Timmy, saw that he'd never be as
big as Jeremy, and she knew that if she had a boy like that she'd
want the world to see him too.  

Linda watched them a lot that afternoon.  She was fascinated to
see the roughness of their play, their unruly wildness. Jeremy
was the clear leader of the boys.  They spend lots of time
roughhousing, Linda spent an awful lot of time at the window. 
There was something about Jeremy, the way he just took charge,
like he was born to get what he wanted.  A few times one of the
other boys tried to upset the pecking order, and didn't do what
Jeremy wanted.  Jeremy just walked over to him and put his face
right up against the other boys, and each time they backed down.
Maybe it was true what they say: the boy with the biggest balls
always wins.   As often as she looked, she couldn't get over the
size of him.  She couldn't imagine what he'd be like when he was
fully grown.

It was the late afternoon when they asked for lunch.   Linda
served them out on the deck, she wanted them to eat outside
because she wanted to see them up close in their bathing suits. 
Well, not them, no she didn't like scrawny little runts.  She
wanted to see Jeremy up close.   She wasn't disappointed,
particularly when she realized that he had a hard on. His bathing
suit was stretched tight against his overgrown hammer of flesh. 
The other boys were sitting at the table, he stood next to his
chair it with a towel draped over his shoulders.  It was like he
was proud of himself, he wanted everyone to see how big he was,
especially Linda.  She put the sandwich in front of him, her hand
was only a foot or so away from him, she had the strangest
feeling that the boys were watching her.  They were laughing
inside, seeing her act like she didn't know him.

The guffaws started once she turned her back and headed into the
kitchen.

She was still cleaning the kitchen an hour later, taking her time
because she wanted to be there, where she could look out the
window at them.   About a half hour later they came inside. 
Their bathing suits were dry, and they wanted to play video
games. 

She stayed in the kichen, since the game room was right next to
it. They were playing Mortal Kombat, she could tell by the way
they were talking.  "Kick him!"  "Rip his heart out!"  "Watch
this. See the way her blood shoots out!"   She felt uneasy. 
Normally, she and Jim didn't allow that sort of talk in her home.
They didn't allow Timmy to play violent video games. She
remembered fighting with him about it back in New York, when he
was about ten all his friends had games like this, it was all the
boys talked about. But she wouldn't let him play, and he started
losing his friends because he wasn't allowed to do more "grown
up" things like they were. Looking back, she realized that that
was when he started to get withdrawn, she wondered if she and Jim
were too strict. That was why the only friends he had left were
the New York scouts, boys that, in Linda's opinion, were all
withdrawn like Timmy, unable to handle the give and take with
real boys.  Some days, Timmy would come home from school crying
because the boys in school made fun of him.   She consoled him as
best she could, but part of her felt he was too weak, and the
thought of a boy his age crying was repulsive to her. 

So today, she didn't mind hearing the boys get a little crazy.
She heard Timmy join in, she listened to Jeremy tell him how to
master the game.  "No, use your knife, stick it in his neck. 
Right there."  She heard the boys laugh at something particularly
gruesome.  "Shit!  Did you see that!"   That was Timmy, and she
felt warm inside knowing he was acting just like a real boy. 

She continued what she was doing, scuttling around the kitchen,
listening to the voices inside, fascinated by the rude things
they were saying.  There was something so ... primitive in their
violent speech, the way the boys reveled in the blood and gore. 
And occasionally, they would fall silent, she could hear
whispers, she stopped what she was doing and stood perfectly
still, hoping to hear what Jeremy was saying.   It seemed so
important, she knew they were silent because he was telling them
something secret. 

It was in one of the quiet intervals that he startled her.   She
had been looking out the window, her mind hovering in the doorway
of the kitchen, trying to gauge what they were saying from the
tone of the whispers.

"Get us some drinks."

She flinched when she heard him - Jeremy had startled her.   She
looked back quickly, just for a brief moment.   His eyes drilled
into her, she couldn't hold his gaze.   She looked back out the
window again, and tried to regain her composure.

"Did you hear what I said?  I said, get us some drinks!"

She continued to look out the window, and she had a sense that he
was approaching, slowly.   His tone, his arrogance, seemed so ...
natural, as if the boy knew she'd take it, she'd offer no
protest. And he was right, of course. She felt an electric buzz
start in her lower body.  It felt good, to hear him speak to her
this way.   It felt so ... right. "OK, I-I-I-ll get some."   She
still wouldn't look back.

"You know ... " He was right behind her now, just a few feet
away.   "You have a nice ass."

The words fell on her like a benediction, the knowledge that the
boy liked the shape of her body filled her with a warm, thrilling
glow.  She felt warm enough to turn around, she looked back over
her shoulder, and met his eyes on the way up from her butt. His
eyes still had all their brilliance, and she was still
frightened.   But now the fear of his power was mixed with
passion for it. God, this kid must have a pair! He seemed so
cocky, like he'd already had dozens of woman.

"Yeah, you're the best looking Mom around here. Fuckin' tease
too.  Wearin' those tight things like that, showing off."  

He voice was full of contempt, as if she was beneath him, and for
some reason this thrilled her.  She felt confused inside,
realizing that he was right, of course. She'd worn her tight
Spandex bottoms today because she felt like it, she wanted to be
noticed.  She remembered how she felt that morning when she
pulled them up into her, the way she turned in the mirror and saw
what she wanted.  Yes, her ass was still lovely. It was all she
thought about while shopping today, loving the dirty second
glances she received from men as they wheeled by her in the
supermarket. The jealousy of the woman they were with, the way
they scanned for a flaw, and the bitterness when they couldn't
find any.  No, Linda was perfect. She loved the attention she got
that morning, she was mad to be approached, to be picked up by
one of those unsatisfied husbands, and to be taken out to the
parking lot, where she would get the sex she had missed these
months. 

Jeremy saw right into her, he knew how much she wanted it.

"Just bring in the drinks."

He turned and left suddenly, leaving her standing there in a
state of intense arousal.  There was something magical about him,
the way he just appears out of nowhere. She hadn't felt this way
in years.  So hot!   She felt short of breath, and unsteady on
her feet as she filled the glasses with ice, and poured the soda.

She could hear the boys inside again, they were giggling and
laughing while covering their mouths. Trying to hold the laughter
in, as if it there was something wrong about it.   Once again,
she felt like they were laughing at her, it sounded like Jeremy
was telling them all about her.   But now it felt ... good, she
liked the idea of the boys knowing what a slut she was.  Boys
that age like woman like me, she thought, a few times today some
young teenagers looked at her, and she liked them best of all...
Yes, even Timmy, her son, he should know what a tramp she was.

She walked into their room, the rattling of the ice in the
glasses revealed how shaky she was, how uncertain. She felt like
an animal being probed by meat inspectors, the boys stopped
giggling when she entered, and she could feel their eyes roam all
over her body.   Jeremy pointed out something to Marco. It was
just the slightest motion of his hand, a nod towards a certain
area of her body.  Marco got the message, and he saw what Jeremy
had first noticed. They grinned at each other.  Linda felt almost
transparent, part of her wanted to cry out that this was wrong,
she shouldn't be doing this. But there was another part too.   A
part that loved this, a part of her that came alive when she was
being checked out in such an obvious manner.  It didn't matter
that her son was there, this was a pleasure that swept away all
inhibitions.

So she gave in to it.  There was a small table in front of the
boys, and she bent down to place the tray of drinks on it.   She
leaner over lower than she really needed to, knowing that her
white silk blouse would hang open, and the boys would see her
exposed tits.  Oh, this was good!  To know they wanted her, to
feel the heat of their desire for her.  She hadn't felt this
alive in years.

She stood and walked out of the room.  When she entered the
kitchen again she felt drained, as if she woke from a dream.  
"God, that was intense," she thought.  Gradually, the voice of
the boys came back to her, they were whispering and giggling
again, and this time there was no doubt in her mind - Yes, they
were talking about her.  "Why did I do that?"   She almost said
it out loud, she felt like a stranger within herself.  

The wet spot in her panties was her answer.   She left the
kitchen, and went into the small downstairs bathroom.   She
almost never went in there, but she couldn't wait to climb the
stairs.   She sat on the toilet and began to masturbate, rubbing
herself like a rabid dog.   The boys came racing by, she could
hear running footsteps. They were headed upstairs.   The little
bathroom was under the stairs, they must have realized she was in
there as they raced by. Jeremy stopped just outside the door, the
others waited midway up the stairs. She was just a foot or two
away from him on the on the other side of the door.   He knew why
she was in there, he knew what he had made her do. And she
couldn't stop, even though she knew he could hear gathering
rhythm of her breathing. Jeremy said, "Thanks for the drinks."  
She made a sound of acknowledgement, just a brief exhalation
between the passionate breaths, and then she exploded as he ran
off laughing

***

She couldn't stop thinking about him.  There was some primitive
attraction to this boy, and it wasn't limited to the size of his
cock. No, some secret lurked in his soft facial features.  She
dreamt about him that night, she woke up the next morning feeling
like she was rising to the surface of a deep ocean. He was there
someplace within her, someplace far deeper than thought. All she
had left was a single dim image from her dream, it was something
strange and inexplicable. He was riding some wild animal across a
vast plain. He beat it mercilessly to make it go faster, and as
it responded, she could see the joyous expression on his young
face.  She knew from the wetness within her that she was that
animal; the beast he was riding so roughly was her, and she loved
it.  She craved the image of his face, and those strange dark
eyes of his.  That was his secret: those eyes. They seemed to
carry the fire of some faraway Asian steppe.  He was born
undefiled, still blessed by the power of some blood rite.

She couldn't stop thinking of him all morning.

In the afternoon, she went to pick up Timmy at summer camp. While
she was waiting in the parking lot, she met up with the other
mothers.  Grace was talking with Lucy, Marco's mom.  They were
close friends, Linda knew they often went out with their
husbands. She was puzzled by their closeness, since they seemed
to have nothing in common.  Grace was a mail carrier whose
husband was unemployed, her body was squat and shapeless from
years of hard work. Lucy was an elegant Mexican beauty, she
didn't work, since her husband was a senior executive at the same
company where Jim worked, and she used her time to work on
herself, getting her nails done and her legs waxed.  Timmy had
told her that they had a maid at their house. Strange, that the
two of them were so close, she thought.  

Linda went over to them. It wasn't the first time she'd
approached them when they were together, but it was still a bit
awkward, since Linda was new.   Still, she was curious to hear
anything about the boys.

"Grace tells me you had the boys over in the pool yesterday,"
said Lucy.   She was looking at Linda with a curious expression,
as if she was fishing for something.

"Yeah, it was a hot day."  Linda tried to be neutral, matter of
fact. 

"What do you think of Jeremy?"  Lucy asked.  

Linda was caught off guard by her directness.  She thought of the
way he spoke to her, the contempt. "He's different.  There's ...
something about him."  The way he looked in his bathing suit, the
size of the boy. "It's hard to describe, exactly..."

Grace jumped in. "Yeah ... it's hard...,"  she looked over at
Lucy. Linda noticed a quick smile between Grace and Linda, it
seemed like a private little joke.  They both knew exactly what
they were thinking of when they said "hard."

Them Lucy said:  "Guess what.  I'm having him for a sleepover
Saturday night."  She said this to Grace, and Linda thought she
saw a cloud of jealousy pass over the other woman's face. Linda
was intrigued.  A sleepover!   The idea, the ... danger of it
sent a shiver running through Linda.  The though of him in her
home, at night.  She had an image of him, prowling around while
everyone was asleep, maybe sneaking into her bedroom.  Lucy
continued:  "Marco asked me, and I figured it would be OK, since
Dan will be away this weekend. "   Dan was her husband.

"Mmmmm. Bet you're not going to get much sleep Saturday!"  Grace
said, smiling.  It was then that Linda realized the sexual
subtext to everything that Grace and Linda said.  Dan needed to
be away because she expected something to happen... Grace and
Lucy seemed to have a secret language between them, a way of
talking about Jeremy in sexual terms, while using words and
phrases that also an innocent interpretation. 

Linda was getting that paranoid feeling again, listening to them. 
She wondered what had happened between the mothers and Jeremy. 
She could see from their discussion that they spoke of him often,
it felt like they were teasing her, talking like that, while
making a point of excluding her. 

The boys filtered out of the camp.  She took Timmy, Grace took
Greg, and she saw Marco and Jeremy get in Lucy's car.  Lucy was
dropping him off.  Linda thought of offering to drop him off next
week, taking him home, seeing what his home and his family looked
like.

She realized that Jeremy was talking with Lucy. It was strange,
because Jeremy was sitting in the front seat with her, even
though her son was in the back.   They were talking, Lucy and
Jeremy.   Talking about her, because while Linda just stared
ahead, waiting for the car to warm for a moment, she could see
them out of the corner of her eye.   She knew they were talking
about her.

She was feeling bold, almost angry, so she turned to face them. 
She noticed how close Jeremy was sitting to her - there was a
subtle intimacy between them. Jeremy looked at her.   He said
something to Lucy, and Lucy looked at her and ...  winked.  

She felt trapped, caught staring, her filthy thoughts exposed. 
Timmy cried out in the back as she gunned the accelerator,
skidding away. 
     
***

He came over again on Friday. It was a cloudy day, Linda was
disappointed that they wouldn't be able to use the pool.

They spent the day playing basketball.  All afternoon she heard
the sound of the ball and the scratch of footsteps on the dusty
driveway.  They were playing right by the laundry room, she could
hear them sometimes when they shouted to each other.  She glanced
out at them occasionally, peering through the curtains on the
door, she wanted to watch him without being seen.   She loved
watching the way he moved.  Even though he was an inch or so
shorter than Timmy, he was a much better player.   He moved like
lightening, his long hair flew around his face like the cape of a
bullfighter, he was able to easily dart around Timmy, and drive
repeatedly to the basket.   There was no comparison between them. 
The redness in Timmy's face told her he was getting frustrated,
each successive unanswered basket brought her son closer to
tears.  Don't cry, she pleaded in her mind. It would be
embarrassing, shameful, to see her son crying like a sissy.

"Can I play."  She hadn't heard Cindy go outside.   The boys
stopped and looked at her.   She could see an idea form in
Jeremy's mind, the notion showed in the curl of his lips.

"Sure."  He nudged Timmy.  "Sure, come over here." 

Cindy walked a little closer to him, slowly though, as if she
realized she was unsafe.

"Sure, you can play with us."  He was grinning, Timmy had a blank
look on his face, unsure of himself.  "Sure, show us your cunt!"

The words jolted her, they sounded so obscene, like thunderbolts
inside her.   She watched her little girl try to decipher what he
said, Cindy just looked up at him, shocked at what he said.  She
knew it was a bad thing. Linda watched Timmy try to act amused,
like he was in on the joke, even though he was as shocked as she
was.

"C'mon, pull your pants down, lets see it!"  He reached for her,
she drew back and backed away from him, but still watching him
for a moment, until she turned and ran.   Linda could hear the
back door, and the sounds of her running up her room.   She was
still looking at Jeremy, he was asking Timmy about his little
sister.  "Ever see her!" 

"Yeah."  Timmy lied, Linda could see that he was too scared to
stand up to Jeremy.   He just had a shit-eating grin on his face,
scared that Jeremy would turn his contempt, his mockery on him.  

"What a wuss!"  Linda thought with disgust.  The realization that
her son had no balls filled her with disgust.  To stand there and
allow someone in his family to be treated like that.  She knew
Jeremy, knew that he'd turn on Cindy. A boy like that gets what
he wants, she thought. 

She went back to the laundry and they went back to playing ball.

The buzzer of the clothes drier made her jump.  She emptied it,
putting the dry clothes on top, and putting a new load of wet
laundry inside it. She started it again, feeling its warmth rise
on her as she began to fold the dry clothes. Linda tried to collect
her thoughts, preparing the things that she would say to Cindy.
She'd explain about boys, how some boys are, well ... aggressive.
She wondered if she knew what he meant, she'd explain to her
about "cunts" and why boys thought they were the most special
things in the world.  It was all they thought about, especially
boys like Jeremy.  And even though boys like that might seem a
little scary, those are the ones that are especially nice...

She looked up and stopped folding the laundry.  A realization
rose up within her. She now knew what he had taken from her the
other day, why, since that first time he stared at her with those
eyes, she'd felt that something was missing inside her. Yes, her
moral sense was gone; she'd shed her conscience the way a snake
pulls itself free of a husk of dead skin.  She saw pleasures in
the world she was blind to before.   Power was the ultimate
thrill; yes, that was what was so damn attractive in Jeremy. The
sheer size of his balls was the expression of his power.  Such
nerve, such audacity! The thought of him breaking Cindy's cherry
thrilled her.  She knew inside there was a chance for her, a
chance to rid her lineage of the weakness she saw in Jim and
Timmy. 

And he was there now, behind her.

She wondered how long he had stood watching her, he had
approached so silently.  He was looking at her, she met his eyes,
and felt the same rush of anxiety that she felt before.  There
was something ... hypnotic about this boy.  He was in his shorts,
his sweat drenched T-shirt clung to his body. She wanted to look
down, and see how big he looked in his shorts, but she was unable
to look away from those eyes.   He was talking to her, she knew
his lips were moving, but it seemed like he was speaking a
different language.

He dropped his eyes, looking down at her body.   She felt like
she could breath again, and she said, "w-w-w-what did you say?"

He was looking at the pile of folded laundry.  He looked back at
her, and said, "What are you, like, stupid, or something?"

She knew what he had just said, but he was looking at her, she
was unable to answer.  She started to panic, because she knew
that as long as he started at her, she'd be unable to breathe.  

There was a pile of her lingerie on the top of the washer.  That
was what he was looking at these times he looked away, and
allowed her to breathe.  He stepped over to the washer, and
started to inspect her things.  She started to cry out, she
started to open her mouth and scream, "How dare you!"  But she
stopped herself.  There were panties, garter straps, black lace
bustiers, and even a lace catsuit, all of the private things, the
secret games she shared with her husband ... back when he cared
for her.  She washed them today, she'd been feeling so sexy this
past week, she wanted wear them again. She had folded them all,
getting them ready to be put away in her special drawer.

The boy picked up each item, and felt its material, rubbing the
cloth between his thumb and forefinger. Linda noticed now how
long and slender his fingers were, the sight of him feeling the
material did something to her, it moved her in strange ways. 
There was something so ... intimate, watching this boy go through
her private things, and seeing the type of woman she really was. 

"You like wearing this stuff."

He was looking at her, he knew what she was like.  The feeling
was strange, unearthly, she realized that she liked having Jeremy
look at her this way.  His contempt lit a fuse within her. She
liked the fact that he could see ... her secrets. "M-m-y husband
likes me to ... dress up, for him."

Near the bottom of the pile was her favorite article, a pair of
pink, satin panties with little girl ruffles on the ass, and a
big hole in the front.  Jim loved those, he had a thing about
little girls, and Linda didn't mind going along with it, because
he got a look in his eyes that took her breath away. Sometimes
back in New York she'd wait for him at night with these panties
on underneath a short schooolgirl uniform.  She'd put on knee
socks, and put ribbons in her hair. She loved getting him all
hot, using his fetishes to get what she wanted.

"These are your favorite."   He looked at her, once again those
eyes drilled into her soul, but now the feeling was different
inside her.   The boy could see right through her.  "You like
wearing these because you liked to get ... fucked."

God, she felt like a trapped animal, so helpless, unable to look
away, even though he was pawing through her very soul.  It felt
... so good, so fucking good!   She started flowing.

"You'll do anything to get it, to get a man interested in you." 
He held the satin, little-girl panties in one hand, the open
crotch was spread out on his palm, making its intent obvious,
like an embarrassing joke.  Oh, God!   And then he did something
magical.   He took his forefinger and touched the panties, on the
spot above the open crotch where her clit would be.   When he
touched the panties, a spark flew up inside her, right ... there.
He was looking at her as he did this, checking to be sure he got
the right spot.   Her lips trembled.   

"Yeah, you'd do anything to get it," he said. He started moving
his finger.  "You're fuckin' desperate."  The movement of his
fingers and the crude, obscene things he said opened a river of
feeling inside her, she could feel his touch arousing her.  It
had been years since she'd been this ... thrilled, and his
manner, his meanness, only added to it, as he knew it would.  
There was something ... delicious in the mixture of his gentle,
teasing fingers and the mean nasty things he said to her.   

"Yeah, you're getting old, he's really not interested in you
anymore...." 

His eyes were black like night, the little demon with the angel
face could see all her inner needs, her desperation.  She knew
where he was going, it was clear that she got off on ...
humiliation. She started to tremble.

"...So you put on stuff like this..."

He continued to rub her panties with that magic finger of his, in
.... exactly ... the ... right ... way.  She could feel it,
tracing the outside of her clit, her swollen knob. Oh, she loved
his touch, and the hiss of his cruel voice.

"...so he'll notice you!"  The words were like a potion, a spell,
that made her dizzy.   She started to bend over, growing so
excited, so wet inside that she had to clench her knees and
thighs to stop them from shaking.   She started to slump down,
sliding her back down the front of the washer.

"Yeah, he thinks you look stupid, but he gets off knowing how bad
you want it."  That was it!   That was the look in Jim's eyes, it
was a look of ... contempt.  The same contempt that Jeremy had
now.  She looked up at the boy, he was smiling, looking down at
her like she was some creature in a zoo.

"You dress up in these silly things, and even that doesn't make
him want you..." Oh, it was getting too intense, she wanted to
shout out to Jeremy, ask him to stop, she was afraid that the
excitement, the thrill of knowing what a whore she was, would
kill her. 

"No, you have to lick his asshole to get him up." She was sitting
on the floor now, her juices were running freely out of her body. 
He knew all about the last time Jim fucked her, the night he
arrived home, exhausted, and the desperation she felt. She looked
up at Jeremy, waiting for him to say it.  She knew if he would
say ... it, it would get her off, just the words, his cruel voice
would do it. She'd pop her cork. 

"Ever hear of .... mercy fuck!"  He started to snicker, and
turned his back on her, leaving her there, cumming,
uncontrollably like a dog.

She lay there a few minutes, recovering.   From what, she
couldn't understand.  She felt like someone different now, laying
there on the floor.   She had the strongest feeling that she just
... imagined what had just happened.   It was so strange, the way
Jeremy could look inside her and see the secret switches of her
desire.   She knew he would get anything he wanted in the world,
that no woman could resist the force of his magic.  

He will live like King Soloman.  He will have a thousand wives.

===

She was in heat the next few days.   She couldn't go
an hour without masturbating - it became almost embarassing. 
She'd be shopping at the mall, or driving the car, when the image
of Jeremy's face would flare up within her.   She'd think of
those eyes, the knowledge they held.  If she was in the mall,
she'd head for a bathroom; if she was driving, she'd pull over to
the side of the road.   Anything, for that moment of private
communion. She would imagine him on top of her. His eyes would
stop her mind, stop her from feeling the pain of his huge member
stretching her insides. It was too exquisite for words, the
promise of him doing that. He'd push into a place deeper than
prayer, and find the flesh that would receive his seed.  She'd
have him then forever; she'd hold him within her. She would be
the mother of his line, and though the birth would kill her she'd
live forever through their marauding, relentless progeny.

So she would have him.   

But he stopped coming to her house, 
A week went by without seeing him. The boys spent each day at
Greg or Marco's house.

She would have him.  

On the morning of the last day the heat of the sun on her body
awakened her.  She was sleeping on the balcony outside her
bedroom window - she couldn't stand to sleep with Jim anymore.
She found him a weak, worthless man, the thought of
even incidental contact with his body disgusted her.   So she
spent her nights on the balcony, loving the heavy night air, the
wild call of the crickets.   This morning the sun felt unusually
hot, and as she watched the fog lift off the surface of the pool,
she considered the prospect of another day of unsatisfied desire.
No.

She went into Timmy's room.  She shook him awake, and asked him
where the boys would go today.  "Greg's," he said, half asleep. 

She sat in the kitchen, and waited until she felt could call
without making Grace mad.  It was eight o'clock when she finally
called Grace. After some small talk, Linda came to the point.  "I
was wondering if the boys could come to my house today?   It's
supposed to be real hot today, and they could use our pool."

"Yeah, that might be nice..." Grace seemed to pause for a moment,
as if she wanted to say something, but wasn't sure. There was an
awkward silence, before she resumed.  "They've been over here
yesterday and today.  That Jeremy just has me all bothered." 
There it was again, that undertone in her talk of him.   On one
level, it was just a normal complaint of a mother, with a
rambunctious boy in her house.   

"Mmmm, I can imagine."   Linda wanted to play along.   "Two days
with him around."

Grace kept the volley going.   "Lucy had him for a sleepover last
weekend!"

"Oh, shit!  I bet she didn't get any sleep at all!"  Linda felt a
devilish excitement, playing along with the hints letting Grace
know that yes, she understood, she knew the secret of this boy. 
She felt like a teenager again, talking with her friends about
some older boy, hinting at things, even though the friends you
were talking with knew nothing about sex, and neither did you.  
What you did know about was this feeling, this nameless tingle
you felt.  

Grace laughed.  "You should have seen her the next day!  She said
he really worked her over."  She let that hang in the air for a
few seconds, and then said, "... but seriously, I know what
you're thinking. You shouldn't rush."

The words startled Linda, she felt a twinge of anger. A little
petty thought rose in her: Why shouldn't I have him too?   Then
curiosity surfaced, she wanted to know one thing. "Is he ...
good?"

"Girl," Grace said, "you have no fuckin' idea!"


***

They came about 11 o'clock, and from the first moment she saw
Jeremy a new channel opened between them. He could see the change
in her.   Now she held his eyes when he looked at her; even
though she couldn't breathe, even though she felt the anxiety of
his power well up in her like a sickness, she held his eyes. 
"Take me," she said, with her eyes.  She was wearing the tight
shorts he made fun of the last time, and she had a bikini top on.
Greg and Marco ran their eyes along her exposed flesh, but Jeremy
seemed uninterested.   He just kept looking back at Linda - the
lack of interest on his part only made him seem stronger, more
desirable to her.

They went out in the pool about noon.   The boys were wired
today, all she heard from inside the house were shouts and
curses.  There was madness in the air.  She spent a long time in
the laundry room, hoping he would magically appear, as he did
those other times. She was frantic in her desire, her imagination
of what he would do this time.  But no, he was teasing her with
his coolness.  She left the laundry room and went back into the
kitchen, where she could wait at the window, and look at him. She
studied his body, the way he moved thrilled her, and she imagined
what he would feel like...

"Mommy, can I go outside in the pool"

Linda turned and looked sharply at Cindy.  She was just about to
yell at her daughter for disturbing her, catching her .... doing
what?  Looking out the window? Linda wondered why she felt so
guilty, so ashamed. She caught herself, stopped herself from
shouting before she finished her first breath.  She looked down
at Cindy.  She was already in her bathing suit, the little eight
year old was wearing her two-piece suit, the one that Linda had
planned on throwing away because it was too small for her.  Cindy
had worn it since she was about six. The bottom especially was
now completely inappropriate.  It was a small child's suit, a
little white whisper covered with strawberries and cherries, and
now that she was bigger it pulled deep into the crack of her ass,
looking more like a thong than a child's bathing suit.  She
didn't even have any visible tan lines on her butt, since so much
of her had been open to the sun all summer.

Linda looked outside at the boys, they were burning up some
energy, splashing each other with water. Jeremy was dunking
Marco.  Marco was trying to get away, but Jeremy was too quick,
he'd let Marco get a step or two away, teasing him, then he'd
pounce on him like a cat, and push his head under the water,
pushing with both hands, and holding Marco underwater.  Jeremy
had a bright smile on his face, doing this seemed to give him a
thrill. Linda could see that Marco was crying. Something about
the scene fascinated her.  She realized that her crotch was
burning, the sight of Jeremy was getting her excited...

"Mommy, can I?"

She'd forgotten about Cindy, she'd been far away watching Jeremy
and Marco.  "OK, sweetie."  Anything to stop being bothered! 
Cindy turned to go, Linda looked down at her as she turned away,
she saw her little girls ass, the little brown scoops, so cute,
so ... sexual, and she realized that the boys would notice her
too. Cindy's little brown butt begged for attention. Linda knew
that something would happen - Cindy shouldn't be anywhere near
... him.  But Cindy was already out the door.  

But instead of following her, and bringing her back inside, Linda
stopped. She just stood still for a moment, feeling confused, and
lost. Finally she started back to the window.  She thought to
herself that she could explain this, explain why she let her
daughter go outside in the pool.  Why shouldn't she? After all,
they were just children. What could happen? She told herself that
as she got a chair from the kitchen table, and brought it over to
the window. She sat and adjusted it so she could see it all.

What followed was like a scene from a nature show, a show about
animal behavior in the wild.  Jeremy poked the other boys and
pointed to her approaching the pool. They stopped talking and
watched Cindy climb up on the diving board and jump in.  When she
surfaced, she swam to the other end of the pool, away from the
boys.   Her backside was in full view on the surface of the
water, the mid afternoon sun shimmered on the wet surface of her
cheeks.  Jeremy was saying something, and the other boys were
laughing.  When she got to the other end of the pool, Jeremy said
something to her.  He probably asked her to do it again. Cindy
walked back to the diving board and did as he asked, not
realizing what was happening, just having innocent fun.

Linda's heart was racing. She knew what would happen, but she
couldn't rouse herself from the window.   She felt a feeling
between her legs that she had long forgotton, since primitive
lust came alive in her body.   

She wanted to watch it happen.

Cindy dove off the diving board, but this time the boys stopped
watching and dove into the water.  Cindy surfaced, and the three
boys popped up around her.   They pressed close against her,
trapping her against their bodies, pulling her along with them as
they paddled toward the shallow end of the pool.   Linda could
see the initial look of surprise on Cindy's face, followed by
fear, as she realized that the boys were going to do something to
her.

The phone rang, but Linda wasn't about to move.  She sat still,
as if the slightest movement might disturb the progress of what
had to happen.   Jeremy pressed up close against Cindy, driving
her against Timmy and Marco, who then held her arms.  Jeremy said
something to Timmy, and Timmy reached his other arm around Cindy,
and held his hand over his sister's mouth.  Linda could see the
fright on the little girl' face, and with the fright, she could
feel her juices flowing from arousal, her clit was like a knob of
bright fire in her body.  

Linda's phone machine answered.  She could hear Lucy's voice, she
must have talked with Grace: "...Ummm, you know, they're supposed
to come over my house tomorrow.  Umm, I have a pool so even if
its hot, there's no reason they shouldn't come..." That stuck-up
bitch!  She just had him for a full night!   Linda tuned her out
and went back to what happening.

The children were standing in the shallow water now. The water
came up to their belly buttons; streams of water ran from their
hair down their torsos.   Jeremy had one hand on Cindy's head, he
had a full shock of her hair, and he appeared to be pulling it;
Linda could see the clench of his forearms and the strain in
Cindy's eyes. His other hand was below the surface of the water,
Linda couldn't see it because the movements of Cindy's body was
agitating it so, sending concentric ripples outward across the
surface of the pool.  Lucy droned on, but she seemed so distant,
so far away.  Linda had her hand on her clit, rubbing herself,
feeling like she was going to cry from excitement.

Jeremy stopped moving, he leaned close to Cindy, and said
something to her, and the other boys.   The children started to
leave the pool. Timmy and Marco were still holding Cindy.  They
walked away from the house, Cindy's little bathing suit bottom
was halfway down her legs, she had trouble walking because it was
catching on her thighs.   She was struggling, the boys held her
arms tightly, she'd pull from one to the other, but it was no
use. Marco was feeling her ass with his free hand. Her brother
and his friend were dragging her, and Linda knew they were going
behind the shed.

She wouldn't be able to watch!

Jeremy followed the boys, and as they turned out of sight behind
the shed, he turned around and looked directly towards the house,
at the window where Linda was seated.  Once again his eyes snared
her, Linda felt so helpless in the gaze of this boy.  He seemed
so powerful, so strong.   And then she saw his cock, the boy had
a huge shaft of meat arching out the side of his bathing suit, it
was as hard as a rock, and so fat that Linda's mouth dropped in
wonder.  Jeremy smiled up at her, he grabbed his big thing with
his hand, and wagged his tongue obscenely.

Linda came for the first time, and she knew that Jeremy could
tell. 

He turned and walked around the back of the shed, out of sight. 
After a moment, Timmy and Marco came back where Linda could see
them, but they stayed near the corner of the shed so they could
watch what Jeremy was doing to Cindy. Linda could see the drama
in the reaction of the boys, the way their little cocks stiffened
in their suits, and the way they started laughing among
themselves.  Linda was mad to know what was happening, her
imagination of the horrible things that were happening to Cindy
lit a charge deep within her body. She started rubbing herself
madly.

And she came for the second time.

Jeremy reappeared sometime later. He was finished.  Colors were
fading in the late afternoon. Jeremy and the other boys walked
back to the pool, talking excitedly among themselves.   They
weren't boys anymore.

Cindy wasn't with them.

The boys went back into the pool, but relaxed in the shallow end,
lying back peacefully on the steps.  Jeremy was telling them all
about it, Timmy and Marco were hanging on every word that Jeremy
said.  He'd look up at Linda every so often, seeing that she was
still there.   The water of the pool was absolutely still. She
could see the dark outline of their young bodies beneath the
glassy water.  

And then, in the stillness, came the most erotic vision she'd
ever seen.  Cindy appeared around the corner of the shed,
staggering slightly.  She was naked, and covered with mud, and
there were dozens of small red scrape marks all along her torso
and legs. Her strawberry blond hair was streaked with black dirt,
it hung around her face, hiding her expression. All Linda could
see were her eyes.  Cindy's eyes glared white from behind the
dirty hair, she looked like a wild animal, some creature that had
its soul devoured by a predator.  She continued to walk towards
the pool, growing steadier on her feet.  The boys saw her coming,
they stopped talking and watched her, calmly.  Cindy walked
towards the head of the pool, and walked out on the diving board,
slowly, knowing the boys were there, and knowing they were
watching her.  She paused on the edge, and leaped high off the
board, knifing into the surface in a clean cut down into the deep
water, out of sight in the darkness.  When she broke the surface she
was clean again, she started swimming easily, languidly; once
again her ass shone wet and glorious in the water, lit this time
by a dimmer sun.  He was waiting for her, he knew she would come
to him.   He gathered the child in his arms and lifted he out of
the water, she clung to Jeremy as her lover, she was his now.  He
sat her on the side of the pool, he stood against her in the
shallow water with his back to Linda. He entered her again, this
time easily, Linda could see the smile on her little girls face.
Cindy was looking up at her, she knew that Jeremy was whispering
in her ear telling the child her that mother had been watching,
mother had seen what he did, and it was good.

That did it.  Linda exploded for the last time, continuing to rub
the swamp between her legs until every last sinful thrill was
wrenched from her body.  She closed her eyes and rested her head
back against the chair, exhausted, drained of all feeling except
the peace of satiety.   When she opened them, it was dark, her
first sensation was the wetness between her legs.  She felt cold
there now.   She had no idea how long she slept, the children
were still outside, and they were acting ... like children.  They
were playing ball in the water, some sort of pool game, they were
splashing happily in the bright water, their bodies lit against
the underwater lights.   Cindy had her bathing suit back on.

Was it a dream?  The events she witnessed had all the intensity,
the erotic charge of a dream. It was so personal; it seemed to
speak to something deep inside her.  Yes, she told herself, she
must have wet herself dreaming.

Cindy and the boys came into the house, and went upstairs to
change.  They were talking laughing, running throughout the
house, she could hear them all up in Timmy's room.  All of them?
Linda realized that Cindy was with them, changing, she could hear
muffled laughter and giggling, so innocent, like it was the most
natural thing in the world for a little girl to strip her wet
bathing suit off in front of her brother and his friends. 
Something was different, Linda knew.  She felt dizzy, as if she
was in another world all of a sudden.

They came downstairs for a snack while they were waiting for
Jeremy and Marco to be picked up.  Linda baked them some pizza
rolls, the children sat around the table and giggled, enjoying
some private jokes between them.  Linda listened carefully with
her back to them. She caught a fleeting image at the edge of her
vision of Cindy reaching her hand into Jeremy's pants. She turned
around, Cindy was leaning against Jeremy. 

He was looking at Linda.   Those eyes again, they spoke to her
and told her what she must do. She wanted to scream at him:
"Touch me!", to beg him to touch her on her special spot, she was
burning inside. But she was unable to.   It took every effort of
will on her part just to breathe, just to hold onto life while
this little demon pawed her ass.

"You're going to go upstairs and wait for me."  She wasn't sure
whether he said the words out loud, or whether he spoke them
directly into her mind. It didn't matter. No, he had told her,
told her to do something.  She may as well try to resist an
avalanche, his will was so strong, so compelling for her.   So
she walked out of the kitchen, hoping that if she did as she was
told, he'd do it, he'd touch her ... there.

So she climbed the stairs, or rather her body did it.  She felt
like a bystander, just watching herself, feeling like someone
else was moving her limbs, as if she was traveling in a dream. 
But the feeling inside was hers, and no one else's, a fire was lit
inside her, a fire she hadn't felt the warmth of ... for years.

When she got to her room, she closed the door behind her. She lay
on her bed, knowing somehow that that was what she was supposed
to do. She waited.  Her mind was a complete blank, she found it
difficult to formulate a thought. 

Soon, he opened the door.  He stood looking at her a long while,
his eyes roving around the room, looking at the things she shared
with her husband.  She lay there, aching, wanting to cry out, to
scream "For God's sake, just do it."   But she didn't, the boy
was not to be rushed in his unholy work.

On her husband's nightstand was a series of pictures, pictures of
their life together.  Rather than attend to her, Jeremy just
looked at them, picking up each picture, studying it carefully. 
Linda felt like she would scream from desire, but she was unable
to move in his presence, or do anything that he wouldn't allow.
She just lay there, watching him.  He'd look at the picture, then
look at her, and she had the maddening feeling that he could read
the history of her and Jim's relationship.

"He doesn't excite you anymore."  It was a simple statement, and
Linda knew once he said it that she was irretrievably his.  The
boy knew her, knew her private, unspoken disappointments in life.
It was so true.   For a few brief months after they were married,
Jim and Linda were like animals, discovering each other, teasing
each other, playing their bodies like musical instruments.  But
with the years, and the stress of working, his strength was gone.
Jim had lost his balls, and that was everything to Linda.

"Spread your legs"

She did, of course. It felt so delicious to, to  ... give in, to
do whatever he said.   So she opened herself as wide as she would
go pulling her knees back with her elbows, feeling like those
woman in that magazine that Jim liked.  Hustler, that was the
one, the one where the woman even held their vaginal lips apart,
so you could see their pink insides.  They all had such lovely
pussies, they all seemed to be nineteen, with skin that seemed to
vibrate, to glow from the perpetual summer sun that burned just
for them. She wanted Jeremy to see her like that. She wanted to
be that ... good... for him, it was so terribly important to
please this boy.

When he touched her, she started to cry.   The feel of his
fingers on her lips was so exquisite. She felt a surge of desire
that was like a wave building.   The boy felt along the inside of
her lips, rubbing his long, sensuous fingers along her crevice,
feeling its texture, like he was conducting a scientific survey.
The feeling was unbearable for Linda, she thought she would die
from desire, so she struggled to say something, the animal that
was growling beneath her skin let up for a moment, just long
enough to spit out the single word: "Please." He knew what she
wanted, she wanted him to enter her, to pull down his pants and
enter her - she had to have this boy.

"In time.   First I need to ... inspect you."  He looked from her
pussy into her eyes, she saw his eyes through her tear stroked
vision.  It was like looking directly into the sun.  Just make it
quick, she thought.     

He pushed his fingers inside her, the long slender fingers felt
their way inside her love channel.   He kept staring at her as he
did this, her eyes were locked within his gaze.   She couldn't
look away.   His fingers explored her inside, every few seconds
he would locate a certain spot and ... study it, by moving his
fingers around softly, playfully, watching the reaction in her
eyes to his touch. He saw everything, her life was laid open to
him.

In a few moments of this, her life, her history was laid open for
the boy.  "Please..." She said it again, knowing he would't be
rushed, it was all she could do to force that single word out of
her lungs.   She felt like he was devouring her, she had the
clear impression that he had all his fingers inside her.  No,
that wasn't it.   Looking into his eyes she knew what it was. 
The boy was ... fisting her! He was in up to his forearm, he was
reaching into inner pleasure zones she never knew she had.

"Please, please ... let ... me... come!"  There she said it, she
said the words, it had seemed terribly important to say them, to
make her subjugation complete.  She was an offering to him, she
existed for his amusement.

"Cindy was great."  Oh, the nastiness of it!  The evil heart of
his opened her insides like a flower.  "You're daughter has the
sweetest pussy.  Just ... like ... yours!"

She wondered what long forgotton God had returned in his eyes.

"I pumped her full of my stuff!"

He clenched his fist inside her, stretching her sides, filling
her channel with rings of pain.   He was hurting her, she could
see his eyes search for her reaction to the pain.

"That little cunt will have my baby!"  It was the first time she
had seen him smile up close.   He was moving his hand, pushing
and pulling it within her, spreading waves of pleasure all
through her body.   "You wouldn't do anything to my baby, would
you?"  He stopped his motion, waiting for the sign he wanted.

"N-n-no!"   Anything, anything to get him moving inside her.  "I
want ... her ... to have it!"

As he started moving again, she knew she was here.   He was
watching her, waiting for the right moment.  She realized he was
holding her, holding her there in the zone he wanted.  "Yeah,
sure, you wouldn't do anything..." He leaned closer to her, and
as he did so he started squeezing her nipple with his other hand,
he needed to introduce some pain as well.   

"O-h-h-h-h!"   She was right ... there ... now - the pain added
just the edge that she needed.

"No, you wouldn't do anything to make me mad.   But daddy, no,
her daddy might harm the baby. Daddy will have to be ... taken
care of."   

He saw that she didn't care, what happened to Jim meant nothing
now.   "Please..." she said once again, all she wanted was for
him to bring her off.  She looked at him, his eyes were burning
hot; he was holding her there, on the edge waiting.  He wanted
her to say it.  She let it go.  "We'll kill him if we need to!" 
And with the words came her release, her body vibrated with waves
of pleasure as he let her go at last.

***

They had him killed a few weeks later.   

Whispers hovered in the room like buzzing dragonflies.   Linda
sat alone in a small couch on the side. She was glad for the
thick mascara, glad for the streaks of dried tears on her cheeks.
Yes, the expectations of the dumb and unknowing must be
satisfied. They were all so sorry when they came up to her, so
sorry for her loss.  They wouldn't leave her alone, she'd be
screaming inside for them to just get the hell away from her. 
But no, they'd stay and console her, and Linda knew it was a balm
more for them than for her. Yes, the earth is still in its orbit,
widows still mourn for their husbands.
 
The ones that knew approached with practiced, almost theatrical
dignity, and when they reached her they offered a simple, crisp
statement of regrets before moving on.  Linda recognized many of
them, not from town, but from the newspaper and television.  They 
took their seats like everyone else; filling the numerous rows 
of folding chairs that started behind Linda and spilled out into 
the foyer. 

Linda heard her enter.  The low murmurs stopped; Cindy walked
into the room like the child she was, completely unaware of the
sudden stillness that she caused. All conversaion stopped. She 
sat quietly on a couch across the room from Linda, and stared 
blankly at the casket that held her father.  No one spoke; no 
one approached the child; no one dared.  
  

The Angel had taken her.





#######################################################
  I'd love to here from you, no matter what you thought
 of my story. Comments and story ideas are welcome at:
 Pervitron@Hotmail.com
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Pervitron/
 #######################################################




 

 

