Episode 11: REAPERcussions

The Skinner house, less than a block from the Alonzo palace. Too close for comfort!

“So, you just moved to Candelabra Estates?”

Jeffrey Skinner age eighteen tried to play it suave around this hot new girl in his life. A guy like him just did not have much luck with girls. Perhaps that could be due to his unique thoughts on life ... and death.

“I did! My dad makes us move around a lot. It seems like every day.” Safe bet!

“Oh, yeah? What’s your dad do for a living?”

“Ha! Living! He’s a caretaker!” More or less! “Digs graves, holds funerals, puts ‘em down when it’s their time. Collects scythes as a hobby.”

“Oh yeah? Kind of grim, isn’t it?” Yet, he was smiling brightly. So was she actually.

“I think it’s sexy.” She dances to the music on Jeffrey’s stereo, hands in her hair, her cut off t-shirt exposing the lower portions of her lily white 36C’s. She was certainly entertaining in a stripper kind of way. The girl had that Wednesday Addams vibe going on but on a porn star level.

“Death is kind of sexy, isn’t it?” He looked down the hall toward his father’s bedroom. Sniffing he caught a whiff of Frank Skinner’s furthering deterioration. He worried the hot girl might smell it and ask questions. Then again, it sounded like the dead was a turn on to her. “Dahlia? As in Black Dahlia Murder? I love that band too.”

“So do I! We have so much in common.” She giggled with sparkling eyes of deep murky blue, her pupils large. Jeffrey Skinner could see himself in her extra-large orbs that seemed to shrink one second then flare up the next. It almost seemed as if when excited or turned on, they enlarged. Learning as he went along, he opted to keep those lovely orbs big and brilliant.

“How did you know about me? You said you heard a cute boy lived here. I am most definitely that. Hung like a horse too.”

“I love horses! Bigger the better.” That made the blue of her eyes retreat in father of the darkness. Jeffrey had to look deeper into them so eased forward as she complimented his effort to peer within. Seeing her fucking a huge horse, her gleefully glossy body whipping about in the air like some ragdoll he stepped back, shook his head then found her laughing. “Trojan horse!” The images disappeared by the time he peered deeply again. “Confession? I saw you when you came home. I was out walking after the police and EMT’s left with all those really bloody body parts. I heard a big cat ripped apart a few pigs.”

“Big cat? No way! Sure, it wasn’t my dad’s chihuahua?” He chuckled, “Where is that rat anyway? Normally, he’s yipping and nipping at my heels. I haven’t heard a peep out of him since I’ve been home.”

“My mom is into taxidermy. Well ... was.”

“Really? Does she stuff the dead bodies your dad confiscates?”

“Sometimes! I think that finally got to her. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure!”

“Promise not to think badly of me?” She bends over in front of him and glides her palms down her milky but well-toned legs, her ass cheeks slipping out from under her extra tight booty shorts. He swore he could see pussy through the threads of her constricting inseam. Again, his eyes played tricks, those threads became teenie tiny snakes striking at him then becoming threads just as fast. His fascination was becoming obsession. The view was enough to bring on an evil smirk as he rubbed his crotch. She was well aware of his dark desires.

“Pretty sure you can tell me anything.”

“I’m a vampire.”

“Didn’t see that coming. It’s broad daylight!”

“No, I just like blood. It’s yummy. I’m morbid, aren’t I?”

“Naaaw! We all have our fetishes.” He happened to look at his fishbowl on the coffee table. “Huh! I had a goldfish. Maybe it died and dad flushed him.”

“I used to eat goldfish.”

“Me too.” He chuckled then actually thought about it. Had he? His mind was a little foggy. Shaking off his chill he changed subjects. “You have an amazing body.”

“I do, don’t I? I have a hundred personal trainers. They keep me ... fit.” She crushes her tits by pressing her biceps along the sides to offer a nice bulging cleavage. A held breath her eyes again consumed the ocean within. Black Sea perhaps! For a second he saw a fleet of ancient longboats without passengers, as if floating lifeless and adrift. “I also read palms. Want me to read yours?” The storm subsided in a blink.

“Sure!” He was loving his sanity slips. Anything to bring her closer to him. After offering she moved between, he and the coffee table and eagerly straddled his hips, his erection rubbing right along her tight inner thighs. She certainly knew what she was doing. Hopping once for meanness as if getting comfy she took his left hand and examined his palm. While she conferred with the Fates he looked down between her thighs and saw labia on both sides of her cunt. Definitely no underwear. In biting his lower lip over his luck, he noted her labia with tiny teeth like some Venus Flytrap. Again, shaking his head those were no longer ready to bite his head off. Eyes flaring at his pulse beneath her fingertips she wiggled a bit on his lap. He was speechless!

“Your lifeline is short!”

“Awww, hell!”

“Definitely Hell! Lucky you! It just means you should live like it’s your last day on Earth. I do! Even though I’m immortal.”

“Riiight! You smell really good.”

“Like my perfume? It’s called Syonide! I make it myself.”

“Poisoning me?”

“Not at all! I think I like you, Jeffy!” She shared a playful baby like tone. “What do we have here?” A close inspection of his palm increased her sexual tension. “You have a reeeeally dark soul. So do I.”

“That’s hot!”

“Isn’t it? Are we made for one another Jeffrey?”

“God, I hope so.”

Expressing a devious sneer, she had to ask, “Do you believe in God?” She rubs her thighs along his compressed erection, his cock so hard beneath her it felt like sensual razorblades carving around his girth. Behind him in his seat there was a Jesus placard of the Lord hanging from the holy cross up on the wall. His mother was a believer. It was mainly there in memory of her. For a brief instant he heard the weak voice of a man saying, “HELLp Me!” That perked his ears up. His dick grew even harder as if allowing the voice to arouse him. The blood flow in his penis reached out to her labia surrounding its sides as if a mortal sacrifice. Her facial expression was almost that of orgasm. Again, he shook his head and things were back to normal. Within his thoughts he told himself, “I have to stop doing that.” Before him she nodded in agreement. Pondering the religion question he reached behind him, hand over his head and tapped the Jesus picture, lifting it off of its nail mount. A second later the picture slid down the wall and behind his sofa.

“Not really! Atheist I think!” He notices her wrists, “Whoa! You’ve slit your wrists?”

“Many times! I’m still here. Does that bother you?”

“No! I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Good answer! You should try it sometime, it’s sooo erotic.”

“I’m kind of partial to my blood. But I’ll admit I’ve thought about drinking blood just to see what it’s like.”

“Would you like to taste mine?”

“Ummm? Really?”

“Bite me.” She playfully lays over him and tilts her neck exposing it to his lips. Swallowing nervously, he inhales her flesh and rolls his eyes back. Eying her flesh up close it was almost as if his eyes went telescopic, over the landscape of her flesh he saw her pores squeezing as if sucking the life out of her victims. He was falling in love. Exhaling along her throat he reaches up under her shirt and palms her breasts. Sighing Dahlia whispers, “I can read your palms even when you do that.”

“Fuck you’re turning me on. What are they saying?”

“I knew that silly. I like turning you on. They’re saying that you are coming to grips with your new reality. Don’t mind my areolas, I know it feels as if you might be crushing tiny little bodies. Those are just my worshippers.”

“What? Worshippers?”

“Yep! I keep them close to my heart. They’re like former lovers who just can’t get enough of me. Don’t ask! The answer would only make you want to join the party. You have a far better purpose, Jeffrey. I just know it!”

“I do? I mean ... DAMN STRAIGHT I DO!” His saliva trickled along her neckline.

“Your DNA is divine. Jeffrey? It makes me crazy when a guy just takes me, roughs me up, slaps me around ... BITES ME!” She pressed her neck directly into his gaping mouth while her right hand moves between her legs and rubs his concealed dick. Even her fingers were like nipping vipers. He didn’t know who needed to inject the venom more, she or him. “Do it!”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yes, you do. Your palms say you want to squeeze the life out of me. Yay! Ready when you are.”

He felt the urge, his heart rate tripling with adrenalin and just bites her. The salty taste of tiny droplets of blood on his tongue made him tense up briefly to savor the flavor. Sucking on her throat she moaned and inhaled through her mouth. “Yesssss! This is your Grapes of Wrath moment. My blood is the true vine of Eden, drink deeply my alcoholic lover.” She moaned with such a sensual siren song, teeth chattering to a beat of the music playing. The more blood he quenched his thirst with the deeper his desire for this Jenna Ortega fantasy. “Do someTHING crazy ... take me to bed. Choke me! Drain me! Give it your all.”

“Fuck yeah!” His teeth eased away and spit blood over his chin. Picking her up by her ass cheeks, she clinging to him with her legs behind his back like an anaconda, coiling hands up under his armpits. Blood all over both he and she he could feel the iron rich ichor energizing his every muscle, every nerve. Resuming his feast on her neckline, he stood tall and stumbled down the hallway toward his bedroom. As he started to turn to his room she gasped.

“The other bed. Take me to the death bed.”

“What?” He released her throat to look at her, Dahlia pressing her forehead into his. “I can’t ... I...”

“Fuck me, Jeffrey!” She encouraged him with such a baby doll tone that he simply could not deny her. Barging into his father’s bedroom the odor grew pungent, Dahlia taking a deep breath and mumbling, “Mmmmmm!”

Throwing her onto his father’s queen size bed he crawled in over her, this time straddling her body. Peering down at her he stares coldly and takes his bloodied t-shirt off whipping it aside. She reached up to unbuckle his belt to lure open his jeans. Growling at the constraint of his position he jumped off and removed the rest of his clothing. She watched him with a magnetic gaze lifting her hips to slither her hot pants off of her blood red toenails. Snapping them from her grasp he brought them to his nose and inhaled her. Even her scent overpowered the rank of his father’s decay as if orchids. Snarling he hurled them aside and they hit the carpet. As if the staff of Moses, the fibers of her booty shorts became thousands of slithering serpents. Not one of which Jeffrey noticed. He was far too into Dahlia. As if attending to their Goddess the snakes reared up and simply observed. No hissing! Idle and strike ready if called upon.

Rising quickly, shirt taken off, she tosses it over Frank’s lifeless body. It was in witnessing her obvious knowledge that his father was right next to her that set Jeffrey off. Diving on top of her he lost his mind, penetrating her pink slit in a thrill to be fucking her scalding hot pussy. Virginity lost on his part! There were those razorblades again, his dick in agony but regardless needy. No pain! No slain!

Savage nails drew blood from his back as he almost instantly nuts a mass creamy assault deep inside her. Unwilling to release him he repeated his penetrations three more times, each time Dahlia becoming more and more vicious in climax. Her Venus Flytrap labia was screaming “Feed Me Seymour!” More! More! More! More!

“Let me ride him.” She forced his gaze upon hers with a steaming allure. It was as if she were trying to control his mind. Peering to his right at his father he just knew what she was getting at but was still stressed over it.

“He’s sleeping.”

“Jeffrey? Don’t insult me.”

Looking from her gorgeous eyes over at his father’s corpse he gnashed his teeth and crawled out of her in a milky web of left behind puppet strings. Why was she not bleeding out? It was as if she was healing as fast as she was inflicted. Shaking off reason Jeffrey made his decision. Crawling around on the mattress he reached over and drew the blankets away from his dad’s stiffened body. Dahlia rolling to her knees pulled Frank from his side and stretched him out on his back in a creaking noise of joints orchestrated. Eying Jeffrey with a playful grin she set about unbuttoning his dad’s shirt and then down to his slacks. He watched her with awe as she stripped his father. Taking in obviously reconstructed bones and many contusions Jeffrey wondered how he ended up this way. Confusion made him stammer.

With Frank’s pants undone it was blatantly clear he had rigor mortis, his penis still rock hard even in fatality. Giggling she threw her leg up over Frank’s lap and mounted his dick. Flirting with Jeffrey as he watched her pussy lips ripple and mold around his dad’s thick nine-inch beast Jeffrey finally grinned. “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM! Daddy’s a big boy!” Blown away Jeffrey began touching himself observing her rise and fall. “Join me, Jeffy.”

Eying her ass he noted her butt pucker vividly widening with each thrust up into her pussy as if it were a living, breathing organ. Jeffrey had never attempted anal due to his dating life limited to constant rejection and a long lengthy term of virginity. Moving behind her in straddling his father’s legs he lined his drooling erection upward toward her ass. Examining it, not wanting to do something that made him look badly in her eyes, he winced with distress. As if their fucking with a once beloved corpse wasn’t bad enough. Jeffrey was always on the dark side within. Odd how he could do this yet feel awkward in sexual feats.

Peering over her shoulder she told him bleed on it for lubrication. As if possessed all over again he used a longer than normal fingernail to slit his palm until a nice flow of blood could be squeezed into droplets on her awaiting anal cavity. Amazed by his fluids pooling up on her ass he heard her squeal. “Put it in me! FUCK ME JEFFREY! IMPALE ME!”

Compliance was guaranteed. Piercing her anus, he and his deceased father was deeply penetrating her holes together. Father and son bonding had never been this good when Frank was alive. Once Jeffrey’s mother passed away from cancer Frank tended to distance himself from his son. It was probably because of catching Jeffrey jerking off in the hospital restroom mere minutes of her passing. Jeffrey of course blamed it on a nurse to hide his morbid thoughts.

For thirty minutes they performed the despicable act, Jeffrey nutting three more times, she chaotically screaming and facing one spasm after another. Feverish and sweaty Jeffrey Skinner felt a searing warmth and the scent of burning hair. Unable to stop fucking her ass he snarled and reared his head back.

Sanity fleeting Jeffrey yanked Dahlia’s head back by her hair and again bit her throat, artery pierced in his savagery she gushed blood and rallied an exasperating, “BE MY VALENTINE!” Blood squirting all over his face, his sinuses filled up clogging inhalation. Dahlia falling over Frank drowned even he in blood. Still, in her slumped forward form she managed to kiss Frank on the lips and suck on his empty cavity of abandonment.

In a strange moment all life ceased, Jeffrey collapsing over her, his teeth retreating from her wound. A brilliant light suddenly illuminated from Frank’s mouth and flowed into Dahlia’s. Jeffrey too weakened by his feast to react simply stared. Where was that earlier energy? Soon the burning sensation on his abdomen became agonizing, hisses of inability to move Jeffrey found Dahlia’s body basking in the glow, now enveloping all of her, her bloody wounds healing up until she was as stunningly beautiful as ever. Frank beneath her began incinerating yet on a level that did not catch the bed on fire. It was like he was imploding, but inevitably halting before any final breakdown. Collapsing into the bed amid minor ashes, bloated fatty tissue, structure, and bone Dahlia giggled. “Delicious! I saved you enough for dinner later.” Blowing into Frank’s lips he inflated a bit more as if giving back with respect. Hardly! “How are you doing back there, Baby?”

“What is happening?”

“Together forever my little killer.”

“What?” The burning scent ended, and he finally found the energy to peel his body from hers. In doing so he caught a glimpse of her lower back, on it was a pentagram. Freaked slightly he lowered his gaze toward his thighs, on it was a burnt version of the same pentagram. Startled by it he fell backward on the bed and lay there weeping. This was where the fire originated. The scorching, the scent of searing flesh. It was Jeffrey all along, not his father.