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Annalogy
By Brewt.Blacklist
April-July 2010
Drying Out
Ignition
I TOTALLY swear that, as unbelievable as it sounds, the first time was completely an accident.
I didn't even realize it had happened until I saw the mark. We had been fighting again; the usual stuff: money, sex, feelings, communications. And I blinked. I heard her sharply inhale, and her head was turned to my left. I hadn't seen her move, she wasn't moving now, and I didn't know what had happened. She was looking down; her face appeared to be very pale, but then the mark reddened. There was no mistaking it: it was a handprint. I stopped breathing. She stepped back and walked out of the room without looking up.
"Anna, wait. I . . . I . . ."The front door closed, and I was left with quiet.
WHEN I woke up the next morning, her side of the bed was warm, but no Anna. I went to work. I tried calling her cel, but she would never pick up. I left her 2, 3 dozen messages, apologizing, begging her to come back, that I didn't mean it, let's talk, please please please. I had to quit when her voicemail said her inbox was full.
I tried calling her office; they asked if she was feeling any better. I said no, not yet, and I was just checking in to see if they missed her. Flowers arrived at the end of the day, with the usual sentiments and assurances that everything was ok at work. Roses.
I didn't eat that night, didn't watch TV, went to bed early.
THIS WENT on another day and night. Me, talking endlessly to a progressively emptier house. Still, there were signs of her, a coffee cup, an open closet door, the empty toilet paper roll, but no Anna.
AS I was about to leave for work on the 3rd day, despite my checking the house again, somehow, without me hearing her, she was just standing there. I ran the 2 steps it takes to cross our small living room and started to throw my arms around her. "Anna, oh, oh, I'm sorry where have you been . . ."
She whispered, "Call in sick." She looked down.
"What?" I finally had her in my arms. I'm sure I looked confused.
"Call in sick." Again a whisper. I hadn't realized it yet, but she was not returning my hug.
It took me a second. "Yes, yes, oh god, we need to talk."
She leaned back and touched her first two fingers to my lips, looked up into my eyes without raising her head, and said in the smokiest voice I'd ever heard her use, "We don't need to talk. We need to do."
"Right. We'll work this out, I promise . . ."
"No." Pause. "I, I want you to do it again." Back to whispering. She was looking at my chest, and I think my brow furrowed. She lifted my hand. "Strike me."
"That's not right, no, no, no, no, I'm not supposed to hit my wife, real . . ."
She interrupted me for the second to last time, ever. "Do it, Do It DO IT DOITDOITDOIT!!!"
This time, through no conscious effort on my own, I watched my hand slo-mo its way up and cross her cheek. By the time it stopped moving, my fingers stung. She had backed away a step from me and was bent over again to my left, and my upper torso was twisted.
Then she did something I have since learned I need to thank Sunday School teachers everywhere for. She straightened up, and turned the right side of her face toward me. And froze.
I counted three breaths, hardened my jaw and said "don't move". I found the phone off the couch, and called my office.
Then I was deliberate, and I had no question as to what was happening. My left hand stung. On this, the third stroke, I was hooked.
Acclivity
HURTING MY wife was the most addictive thing I had ever encountered. Alcohol, porn, whatever drugs I'd tried in college, nothing could compare to the rush that she was letting me perform atrocities on her. After I had slapped her the second time that morning, she jumped on me, frantically kissing me, tearing at my and her own clothes.
We landed on the floor and I could smell her sex. She had a wet spot on her slacks. I, too, started tearing at the now unnecessary clothing. I was harder and longer than I ever had been. When her panties were half way down her legs, I threw her over onto her back, and we started screwing, no, raping each other like we both needed it. When I first breached her sex, her mouth fell open, she gasped, and screamed "Yes Yes Yes!!!"
There was nothing to getting inside her. She was drenched. She quit trying to undress and just lay on the floor, spasming and jerking, her eyes squeezed shut.
It didn't take me long. I'd never been so excited in my life. She kept bucking underneath me and I started to get up.
She stopped me by putting put her arms around me and said, "More."
"I don't know how to do this."
"It doesn't matter. Do something."
"Like this?"
"Harder. Oh. Oh. Aaaahhh. No wait. Keep going. Aah. Ah. Ah. Hhhhhhaaaaaaaahhhhhh."
LATER, I beat her with the roses from her office.
"So . . . you . . . liked that."
"Wasn't it obvious?"
"Why has it taken so long for us to find this out?"
"Who cares. Now what do you want to do?"
Fervid
NEITHER OF us made in to work for the rest of the week.
"Now what do you want to do?"
"Let's go shopping."
I WAS prepared to go to the porno shop. But the music store or the farm supply store? Who knew? It was like walking out into the sunset after it had been raining all day; everything took on new meaning, and it was beautiful. I'd fallen back in love with my wife again. Whatever we were fighting about was forgotten. I still don't remember what it was, exactly.
WHEN WE got back, she was immediately naked.
"I like you like that."
"Then this is how I should be, don't you think?"
"That, and the other thing."
"Fucking?" she said, brightly. Then huskier, "Screaming?"
"Oohh, yeah."
"And what are you waiting for?"
I had so many things to hit her with; I didn't know where to begin. I opened the first bag. The brushes from the music store, which are a bunch of metal wires with a handle, were this first thing in my hand. I tried hitting her a few times with them, but it didn't feel right, and she didn't react. Then I got the idea: I poked her with the ends. She startled. Then, as I drug the wire ends across her chest, they left marks, angry red marks, and it happened again. She squinted and turned her head, and did a sharp intake of breath.
"Oh, I think I like that."
WE HAD so many things to try over the rest of the week and the weekend. When finally I got around to digging out the electric fence generator we got at the farm supply store, she fell to her knees, and hung her head.
"I want to tell you something."
"What?" I started fiddling around, trying to figure out how to make this thing work.
"Of all the stuff we got, this is what frightens me most. E…Electricity. A, uh, friend of mine's, er, husband was electrocuted while cleaning snow off the roof on a ladder. His shovel fell into the mains for the house. I sat up with her all that night, and we didn't say much of anything, but she cried and cried until dawn. It…it, left me more scared than anything else I can think of. And I never saw her again, to see how or if she recovered. I didn't."
"So you're saying this is going to be a challenge for you. Do you want me to stop?"
She was visibly shaking. "I don't know." Pause. "I don't know." Longer pause. "Tie me up."
LATER, AFTER she had babbled incoherently for half an hour, I started fucking her while she was still hooked up. Her eyes rolled up in her head, and I would tweak her with the generator to get a yelp, and fucked her some more until her eyes rolled again. This went on for quite some time. I couldn't tell if she ever came or not; I sure as hell did. I left her tied up and hooked up, asleep, and went to bed. I slept like a baby.
The next morning, she begged me to undo her; that she would make it worth my while. I couldn't resist extracting one last scream from her. And yes, she did make it worth my while. She sucked my cock the whole day, while I pinched her nipples and slapped her tits until she made noises. I think it was the noises that made me blow into her mouth, all eight times.
The last couple times, I came onto the floor. And made her lick it up. I don't think she liked that, but damn, I did.
Inertia
"YES, ALL the time."
"We'd have to get a smaller place."
"That's alright with me."
"I promise I'll make this work."
And with that, Anna gave her two weeks' notice.
I'D CALL her from work and ask her what she was doing.
"I'm masturbating to your picture."
"How many times is that today?"
"This is my third time."
"Are you naked?"
"Of course."
"What's for dinner?"
"I'm cooking you a steak."
"And for you?"
"Dog food. And sperm."
"How many pornos have you watched today?" That's all I let her watch anymore.
"Uhh uhh aahhhh, Two. Twice."
"Learn anything?"
"Not this time."
"Go get my socks from yesterday, pee on them, and put them in your mouth. Then you can masturbate again."
"Yes, sir."
"I'll be home at six."
YOU WOULDN'T think that having a full time live-in sex slave would get boring, but eventually it does. Stinging nettles even became routine. Not the first couple times, sure, but after that, I began to lose interest in what I could do to her at our place.
"Maybe tomorrow I'll have you masturbate at the coffee shop."
"Oh god."
Decursive
"THEY THREW me out."
"Huh?"
"Of the coffee shop."
"Weren't you discrete?"
"Well, you didn't say that. Plus, it's hard to walk normal with things stuffed in your ass and your cunt."
"I wouldn't know."
"I didn't like it. I don't want to play in front of other people."
"Too bad. Get dressed. We're going out."
WE WERE waiting in the men's room of the dive I'd found across town.
"Jesus, what is she doing here?"
"She's waiting for you. Open her blouse, and slap her tits."
"Fuck you man."
That's how it went the first three or four times at the first three or four places we went. She was mortified, but I couldn't tell if it was the offer or the refusal that humiliated her more.
Finally, this ugly, ugly old man took us up on it.
"She likes this, eh?"
"Yes, she does." Anna shook her head. The gag and the handcuffs kept her from interfering.
"I'm much obliged."
I was impressed with how hard he hit her. I'm sure Anna was too, but maybe not in the same way.
"When do I have to stop?"
"How long will it take you to get tired of it?"
"I could never get tired of this."
"Tell you what. Take her home. Don't believe her if she says 'stop'; she doesn't mean it. Let her go when you go to work tomorrow. She knows the way home."
The look in Anna's eyes was priceless. I'd never seen that kind of utter panic before. Or betrayal.
"Have fun, honey."
LATE AFTERNOON the next day, Anna came in, silent.
"Take off your clothes. I want to see."
She hung her head after she had done that, and wouldn't look at me.
"What are those?"
After a moment, she whispered. "Cigarette burns."
"I never thought of that. Should I take up smoking?"
"Please don't." Again, whispered.
"What'll you do instead?"
She got down on her knees and started opening my pants.
"No, we've already done that. Something better."
"I don't know what you want."
"Wait here." I got the ropes and a gag. And the wire brushes.
Medicament
WHAT'S THE old joke, 'I don't care how you cure my masochism, as long as it's not painless'? It's said there is no cure for masochism, until the masochist wants to stop. I had no idea she was seeing someone about doing just that.
"NO WAIT please stop stop stop stop I don't want to do this anymore!"
That was the last time she interrupted me. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I HAD tied her up and gagged her so I wouldn't have to listen. She was play-acting about 'please, no', and it annoyed me. We'd done that before.
She shook her head when the needles came out, and groaned over her gag and squinted and winced and turned her head when they went in.
She continued to shake her head, so I found the barbed wire we'd bought the first day. I wrapped it around her needled tits several times, and tied it off to some rope, and pulled up until her knees left the floor. There was no mistaking her scream.
I undid her gag.
"BLOW ME, bitch"
"No god, please wait stop, I can't I can't I can't."
"Cunt." I scratched her with the brushes, over the cigarette burns.
"Aarrrrrggghhh Noooooo".
"Whore."
"I'm not I wish we could go back we have to quit this . . . ."
"They say running makes you see god. But this . . ."
"Huuuhhhnhiuhnnnn"
" . . . makes you say god."
"ooohhgngnngnnn."
"And this."
"Aahh ah ahh AAHH."
"And This."
"UNGHGHN!!!"
"And TH . . ."
And with that, she interrupted me. I got the electric fence generator out.
OK, SURE, later I broke her arm, and was maybe a little harder than usual. I washed my hands and when I left, she wasn't moving.
Gin
THE ONLY thing I remember from the whole affair was that the gavel wasn't a single clack; it was two: clack-clack. Then the room was deafening, and I was bustled out. That evening, as I was laying down on what was to become my bed, the bars slid over, and the guard came in with another man. He introduced us.
My new roommate John first said, "That's my bed." I didn't say anything.
He then went on to tell me how it really was just like it was in the movies, what it was like in the yard, that I was going to need protection, and how it was going to cost. He asked me what I was in for.
I told him about the last time Anna interrupted me.
I SLEPT like a baby that night; I don't think John slept a wink.
The next morning John was gone. Three days later, I asked the guard what happened to John.
"He asked to be moved. We moved him."
"Well, maybe I want to be moved."
"No. We won't move you."
I've never had any trouble in the yard or anywhere else, and I am generally left alone. I suppose I have John to thank for that. And, of course, Anna.
But I can't wait for someone to try something.
Adhesion
Catalyst
"NO NO no NO NO NO STOP! Wait!"
"Yeah, right, bitch. I don't want to wait any more."
"God damn it, John, why doesn't 'no' mean 'no' with you?"
"'Cause, I'm not about to give you the upper hand. You don't need to be in charge of anything. Pretty sure you'll just fuck it up."
"Not tonight. Pleeeaase?"
"You know you love it, baby. Here."
"Uuhhhh!"
"Howdja like that?"
"Og-g-g-god. Huhh Huuh! nnnooooo!!!"
"Yeah! GodFUCK I love this!"
I had to get away from John. This had gone on long enough.
"DADDY, I don't like John anymore, and he won't leave me alone."
"So?"
"So I want it to stop."
"Too bad. Why?"
"I . . . met someone else. His name is Simon."
"Why should I care?"
"I'll make it worth your while."
"You're just like your mother."
"Stepmother. And you love her, too, Daddy. Pretty please? For your little girl? I know what you liiike . . . ."
"You are such a bitch."
"mmmmmNygk Ngyk Ngyk Nhgykk."
"I MET Simon. I liked him."
"Really Daddy?"
"Yep. He and I had a nice talk. He understands now."
"Undertands…what?"
"What a fucking slut you are, and what he needs to do to keep you in line."
"Wait, what?"
"You heard me, cunt. Don't worry about a thing. I've taken care of it all. You're gonna wanna shave down there. I promised Simon."
"No no, Daddy, what did you do? I just wanted a nice normal life!"
"Oh, and I've taken care of John, too. He won't be back. Have a good life, princess. Just don't forget who your Daddy is."
Sorority
ANNA HAD come to me some time ago. She was in tears, distraught. Things were different between me and Simon back then. I'd convinced myself things were going to be ok between us. I had grown to accept what he did to me, and shit if I didn't encourage her. Stupid stupid stupid. I just wanted someone to commiserate with so I could cope. How was I to know? Oh, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
THE DOORBELL was usually the worst. But that one time it wasn't so bad.
"Can I come in?"
"Anna! I'm so glad to see you!"
"Please? I need help."
"Oh, uh, sure."
"Thanks. Oh. Oh. Oh. I'm sorry. Did I come at a bad time?"
"No, I'm sorry. This is, uh, just, uh, how I am at home. I hope you don't mind."
"I didn't expect it. That's all. I didn't mean to over react."
"It's ok. Come on in. Coffee?"
"No thanks. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure. Mind if I smoke?"
"No, go ahead. I always thought you were into, well, you know."
"Know what?" I knew what she was asking, but I was going to make her get it out.
"Well, it's just that, er, my husband, he, he, he hit me this morning."
"You're kidding, right? Did you call the police?"
"Would you have?"
Uh oh. She had me. "Welllll . . . ."
"That's why I came to you. I think I liked it. And finding you here like, uh, that, I think confirms what I believed about you."
I always hated the uncomfortable silences that come about with 800 pound gorillas in the room. Or in this case, a naked woman. Which was usually me.
"NO, SHE isn't like that, Simon. So please, be good about this. I'll make it up to you. Hmmm? Yeah, she's ok with that. No, we won't. Ok. Yes. It will be. Thanks, honey. Bye."
"IT'S OK, you can stay with us. And no, he won't do anything to you while you're here."
"Oh, thank you. Is it, ok if we talk about it now?"
"Sure, sweetie. What do you want to know?"
"Do you really like it?"
"No, I hate it. But that doesn't mean you should. Men love it when they think you like it, and if you really do, it'll make things so much easier. I'll show you some stuff. Wanna watch some porn?"
SO WE talked. For 3 days. She asked what to expect, and I told her. We talked about ropes, and gags, and fucking, and how to be creative, and how to enjoy it all. I swear, she just kept getting hotter and hotter, and her breath would get short, and she'd excuse herself to the bathroom. As if I didn't know what she was doing there. Later she finally started letting her hair down, and we had some fun together before she went back to her new life. And we found a way to talk every day after that. Despite the cameras.
"YOU WON'T believe what we did today. Again."
"What."
"Stinging nettles."
"Oooooh. How'd that feel, Anna?"
"What do you think? It hurt a lot. I couldn't stop screaming."
I always smoked when she called. "Would you recommend them?"
"Only if you liked that sort of thing."
And we would laugh. I learned to thank God in those days for letting me have a friend.
Maneuver
"SOMETHING HAS happened."
"What."
"I . . . I'm pregnant."
"Holy fuck shit, Anna. Does he know?"
"Not at all."
"You're going to have to tell him."
"I can't. I think I have to stop everything."
"Sweetie, I've tried to stop. It's impossible."
"Will you help me? I've got to get away."
Gorilla pause.
"Let me think about it a while. We'll come up with something. The cameras will be a challenge."
Misadventure
"HEY, YOU know that gal?"
"Hmmmm? Kngyk ngyk nngyk"
"She came in to the coffee shop this morning. Pretty. You know. The one that stayed with us. Her."
"Ngyk ngyk ngyk hahhh uhh huh mmmm"
"What was her name again?"
"Nygk nygk nygh nygk."
"Hey, I asked you something."
"mnmnmygknmgkk hhaaaa haaa haaa . . . .what?" Sniffle.
He grabbed me by my face. "What. Was. Her. Name."
"uuhhhh Anna. Her name was Annggggyyyk aa angyk ngky"
"Well god damn it, I had to throw her out. Not that I minded what she was doing. She was hot. I'da rather let her keep on. But the prudy bitties insisted. Don't stop."
"kk Kkk kk kkng kk ngngngn nnnnnnnnnn"
"Mmmm. Aaahhhhhh. That wasn't your best, but it'll have to do. I've got to get back. Remember what I told you."
"hhhhhh hhhhhh hhhh, Yesss ssssir."
"Say it." Holding my face again. "I said say it."
"I'm . . . I'm a bitch."
"And the rest."
"A . . . And . . . And I'm a slut. A whore."
"Finish it."
"I'm a worthless cunt who deserves what you do to me."
"Just like your Daddy said. I'll be home after work. I'll watch you from there. Later."
OF COURSE I know Anna, you prick. You know this is all your fault. I don't think we can wait any longer. Where are my cigarettes? Fuck, girl what were you thinking? Pick up pick up c'mon pick up.
"Hello?"
"Anna? It's me. What were you doing there? My husband recognized you."
"I had to. My husband told me to."
"Well, mine asked about you. We're seriously screwed. They'll figure us out. I think we have to do this today. Right now."
"I . . . I don't know that I can."
"No choice. Get your ass over here."
"But . . ."
"No, now. Right god damn now, Anna."
"Ok."
Extirpate
"HONEY? CAN you come home? I've got something for you. Yes. Yes. A surprise. No, I called you in sick for the rest of the day. The girls'll cover. I know you'll like it. Sure. See you soon."
"I DON'T know about this."
"It's going to be ok, Anna. He's going to love finding you all tied up here, which means he won't be paying attention to me. I'll hit him on the head, and we'll both escape. It'll work. I promise."
ANNA WOULDN'T stop crying.
"God, how hard did you hit him? Why did…?"
"I didn't think I hit him that hard. It's done, it's over. Quit crying. I can fix this."
"Please, untie me. You have to let me go. My husband is expecting me to just be there. Pleaseplease ple…"
"Ok, go home. I'll be by soon, and we'll do the same to your husband, and we'll just go."
"I don't want to kill him!"
"Just go, Anna!"
Fuck, I needed a smoke.
Trauma
"AND HOW do you know what they're doing, princess?"
"I followed her and him to this bar. They're in the bathroom."
"Let me get this straight. You want me to save your friend from being whored out by her husband, and in exchange, you're gonna whore her out to me?"
"Uh, yes."
"God, you're stupid. Is she pretty?"
"Jesus, Daddy, she's beautiful."
Fucking gorilla.
"Meet me at my place in an hour."
"ANNA! ARE you all right?" She nodded. "Oh, thank God. Let me get those handcuffs off."
"Don't you touch them, princess. She stays gagged and handcuffed. Period. But pull her clothes out of the way."
MOTHERFUCKING GOD damn cunt whore bastard. I don't know who I'm madder at. I can't stop crying.
Daddy always knew just what to do to me to get what he wanted. And fuck, he did it. And did it. And did it. And he kept on doing it until I couldn't stop myself.
"Anna I'm sorry I'm sorry I can't I have to oh no please don't make me . . . ."
"Shut up and just do it, slut. Or should we start over?"
I started putting cigarettes out on Anna. And I learned to curse God that day for what I had to do to my friend.
Lambaste
"I CAN'T believe it. Is all I'm good for is to clean up your messes?"
"Daddy, I---"
"Shut up! Daddy's talking now. I had to clean up John for, for what? Because you got tired of him? Don't you know what it took to get him put away to the Big House of Rapes? Where he's still paying for how 'my little girl' felt?"
"I didn't know what happened to him."
"Which part of 'keep your fucking mouth shut' do you not understand, you cunt? Do you want to send him flowers? Huh? Would that help? And then your little friend Anna? You know she just went straight back to him. Fat lotta good you did there, princess."
My head fell; my desolation was complete.
OR SO I thought. Daddy struck me. Nobody can hit as hard as my Daddy.
"Don't you look away from me when I am addressing you, you bitch! And now I have to take care of Simon? Whom I actually liked? Fuck! What am I going to do with you?"
I shook my head and whispered "I don't know."
"Well I do. We'll start with you not leaving here, ever. I'll put a chain right through your legbone, if that's what it takes."
I felt my eyes dry out.
"You want to play the whore? Fine. You'll play the whore for me, from now on. Strip."
HELLO? GORILLA?
"RIGHT." UUH. "God!" Uhhh. "Damn!!" Uuhhh! "NOW!!!" UuuuuHHHH!!!!!
My hands trembled as I tried to reach for my blouse. Shit. I couldn't pick up my hands.
"Too slow!" He ripped off my clothes. You wouldn't think that would hurt as much as it does. And there was nothing I could think of to make me wet for that rape.
I HAVEN'T worn anything since. No real change there.
Except for the barbed wire chain. Which at least distracts me from having to think about the other changes. Most of the time. The dog food is actually one of the tolerable ones.
Oh, and that thing my father did to me that I hated? It's amazing what you can get used to.
God, I wish I had a cigarette.
Drenched Communion
Matins
[IT'S BAD enough I'm numb from Timothy's death, but with the last thing Anna said, it's all become completely clear to me. Everything. Timothy's shovel-into-the-mains accidental death wasn't an accident, Anna's appearance here wasn't an accident, and I'm about to become one. Jesus, I've got to get out of here, I gotta change everything, I don't know how to do this, please help me Lord . . . .]
Trece
[THERE HE is. Fuck, he's still ugly. Time for a leap of faith.]
"Hello Detective, it's been a while. I'm better thanks."
[Hope my research pays off.] "I'm sorry to have heard about Rachel, really, I am."
[What did she see in him? Maybe it was a mercy killing . . . .oops don't get distracted now.]
"I came back to look up some old friends, hang around a bit." [Look coy]
"Well, if one wants to seduce a cop, she should hang out in a cop bar, don't you think?" [Flirt]
"Why thank you, I had a bit of a makeover." [Look bashful]
"Wanna buy a girl a drink?" [Both feet now…]
"YES, OF course I'm interested. Let's get out of here . . ."
"OMIGOD, YOU'RE HUGE!" [Lie]
"Oh, Yeah Baby!" [Oh no]
"Don't you ever take that thing out of me!" [If I could only feel it.]
"Jesus I'm gonna come again!" [Wonder what's on TV?]
"UUUHHHH!!!!" [uuuhhhh]
[FUCK, WHAT a night. Do I need to barf?]
"Uh, good morning. Where's the coffee? Oh, I'm, uh, yeah, I came home with, say, are you his daughter?" [At least someone in this family is easy on the eyes.]
"My God, he wasn't kidding when he said you were pretty." [What was that – the way she reacted . . . ]
"Actually, his description didn't do you justice; you are drop dead gorgeous." [Oh, there it is again.]
"I could forget to breathe looking at you." [Walk over to her. Press my tits up against her a little.]
"Lordy, you are worth the trouble I could get into . . ."[This is gonna work!]
"No, don't get up." [Touch her, push her back down, gently, gently. Whisper.]
"Jesus, you're pretty. Princess pretty. How are you doing this?" [Run my fingers through her hair.]
"What you're doing to me." [Wait. Wait.]
"You know what? The truth is, I can tell. And it's ok. I like girls, too."
[Wait. Wait. Wait. There. She leans into me. Bingo. Put your arms around her. Wait.]
"Yeah, your Daddy's quite a guy. I fell for him, easy."
"Oh, God, no, I am not gonna hurt him."
[Lower, huskier] "I'm not gonna hurt you either."
[Kiss her, long and slow.]
[Steady now. This will either work or it won't.]
"You know, I'm sorta guessing here, but I think you and me might be kind of alike in other ways, too. [Touch her face.] I mean sure, we're about the same age, so what's happening in the next room is probably a bit weird for you. But . . ."
[Drop my chin, look up at her, lick my lips, smile a little. Whisper.]
"I like to fuck my daddy, too."
[wait. wait. wait.]
[gotcha]
"Is that him waking up now? I guess that means I have to go bang him blind, like the good book says."
[Take her hand. Look her right in the eye. Big grin now.]
"Wanna help?"
[Thank you, my sweet Lord, she nodded. Whisper enthusiastically.]
"Wait here a couple minutes, then come in."
"GOOD MORNING, lover. Where's that little monster you have?"
"Oh, God, there it is, Yes, Yes, Yes. Let me get on that Thinnnnggggg!"
"mmmmhhh Do you know your Bible, Detective? uhh, uuh, uuhh."
"No oh oh the story I'm interested in is about Lot. After, ooohh, God saved him from the destruction of Sodommmmm and Gomorrahhhhh, do you know what happened to him? Uuuhhhh."
"I've got a surprise for you." [Come here, princess]
"This is what happened to Lot. [Lean over to him. Whisper] He got to fuck his daughters. Yyeeeaahhhh. Her. And since I'm about her age, hell, it's going to be like getting to fuck both of Lot's daughters."
"Don't be silly. Yes, it's ok. Now hang on. We're gonna blow your mind . . . .among other…things . . ."
[GOD, THIS is too easy.]
Sext
[FUCK! FUCK! Fuck!]
[Of ALL the people the little whore could be screwing, why'd it have to be Johnny?]
[think Think THINK]
[Crap. I've got to tell him something. Crap]
"HEY, YA gotta minute?"
"I haven't told you everything. I found out Timothy didn't have an accident."
"No, the Dom had him hit. Yes. The Dom. The one you've been after all these years."
"Yes, just like with your wife, Rachel."
"No, you already closed Timothy's case, right? As an accident? Then it's okay."
"That guy, Johnny? John? Yeah, him. Your princess's boyfriend. He's the one who did Timothy."
"Yes. He's one of The Dom's right hand mans."
"He's got like, five. One for each finger. I don't quite know how it works."
"Yes. I'm working on it. Have been for a long time. I got a lot of stuff on him."
"No, I'm not using you. This, us, is just a happy coincidence, really. Kinda like a bonus." [Thank you Jesus, for making men gullible.]
"I think you do want to get Johnny, John, away from her. [Which will raise the bait to the Dom]
"He's only with her because the Dom wants him to be."
"Yeah, I think it's you he's lookin' at."
"I do know how."
"We'll assemble some evidence. I already do her laundry." [And I'll get your evidence, then.]
[Oop. Crap. Gotta look out for his interests for a second.]
"But we need to protect her, don't you think?"
"Let's talk to that other guy she wants. Simon, the coffee shop guy. Convince him to keep a tight rein on her."
"Yeah, I think he's probably ok. He's a guy. What do all guys want? That's right. And I know you can make it look good."
"It'll be ok. I'll make sure of it. Good."
[Wait. Smile.]
"Wanna fuck me in the ass?"
[Thanks again God; glad I saved that card. That'll seal it . . . uuuuhhhhghhgg.]
None
"I'M GLAD we're alone for a minute."
"The truth is, Simon, I've got a bit of a thing for her, too. I know you watch her. Cameras, yes?"
"And [quick breath] it's kinda embarrassing to admit this, but, [wait] I'm [Lower my eyes, wait, look back up into his.] a voyeur." [Wince for him.]
[Look down.]
[Keep my head down, peek, roll my eyes up, change expression from wince to lust, look like I want to fuck him.]
"Can I get a feed from your house, too? Please?"
[Sing-song] "I'll make it worth your whiiiile . . ."
[Wait. wait. wait. Another winning hand. Another guy to fuck for favors.]
"Oh, yeah, I like it rough." [Be a nice change.]
"I totally swear, I won't look in at night on you two. [Yeah, right.] You can turn it off then, if you want." [Don't you fucking dare!]
"Oh, and Simon? Honey? Would you do something for me?"
"Keep her naked."
[Smile! Score!]
[I've got to quit taking chances like this. I've got too many balls in the air. I should be asking God for lottery numbers; that would probably be easier.]
[IT'S BEEN a while. Time to check up on the tramp. See what's she's up to today. Probably just another dull day after so ma . . . wait a minute . . . who the fuck is that? Simon didn't mention any---oh my god.]
[God.]
[God.]
[It's Anna. I found her. Talk about hitting the lottery.]
[God must really love me.]
Vespers
"SAY THAT again?"
"No I don't mind. If your little girl wants to bring you a toy to play with, that's fine with me. Just remember whose legs you sleep between."
"What's her name again? Angie? Annie? Ah. Anna. Sorry. Maybe I'll play with her too."
[This is too good to be true. The slut whore is bringing Anna HERE, and I didn't have to do anything to make it happen.]
"See you soon."
[MAYBE I should look at what happened at her house today.]
[Fast forward. Fast forward. Dull. Dull. Ooh, Blow job. Phone call. Dull.]
[Wait a minute. Anna's there. What are they doing?]
[Oh, cool.]
[Fuck, there's Simon. Sure, go for Anna, they tied her up fo-OH MY GOD]
"DON'T YOU touch them, princess. She stays gagged and handcuffed. Period. But pull her clothes out of the way."
[WHISPER TO him]
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" [Gotta get him out of the room]
"Do you know who that is?"
"That's the Dom's daughter. Yes. The Dom's daughter. Really."
"Because I know her. I didn't know it was going to be her. Look at her. She's trying to figure out who I am. No, don't ask her. Listen to me."
"You wanna play with Anna? Fine. I won't care. You wanna hurt her? Fine. She won't care. She's a pain slut."
"Anything you do to hurt her will just be like tickling her. Anna likes pain." [Hell. Who doesn't like it around here?]
"But." [Here goes.]
"If you want to hurt the Dom, you have to hurt her in a way that actually hurts." [Deep breath.]
"Have your daughter do it. They're friends. Look at them."
"Being hurt by her friend is probably the only thing that would truly hurt."
[Wait. Wait.]
"You'll have to make her do it. I know you know how."
"Just don't tell her who Anna really is."
"Because it'll blow up and fuck everything up. Trust me."
[Wait]
"Anything you do to really hurt Anna will hurt the Dom."
"Hurting the Dom is all that matters. For what he did to Rachel. To Timothy. To You. To me."
"I swear, we can fix anything we do to your little girl after. Whatever therapy she needs, I'll get it for her."
"If you ever loved me, do it for me."
[GET BEHIND her. Put my arms around her. Whisper in her ear.]
"Hi Anna. Hey, it's good to see you. We've got a few minutes."
"Listen, I want you to know a couple things."
"First, I really appreciate the night you stayed up with me when Timothy died. That was really sweet of you. Thank you for that."
"Second, I know your father had Timothy killed, There's really nothing more to say about that."
"And last, have you been listening to what's going on in the next room?"
"That's the sound of a Daddy convincing his daughter to do something she doesn't want to do."
"And he's doing it because I asked him to."
"And she'll do it because I want her to."
"Because I want this message to get to your father."
"Because he's the one I'm really trying to hurt. Ooh. They're back."
"DO IT Do it DO IT DOITDOITDOIT!!! Yeah!"
[Whisper to Anna ] "God I love how you squirm against me when she does that."
"Do it again!"
"OH GodFUCK Yeah!"
[Whisper to Anna] "We're gonna do this all night, Anna. And I think I'm gonna CUUMM!" [Oh, and this time, for real aaaahhhhhh]
"AGAIN!!!"
Compline
"DID YOU get her home ok?"
"Listen, I found something out."
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this. She killed Simon. Yes, I can prove it."
[LISTEN TO him yell at her!]
"DEAREST GOD, and that's not all."
"You know how Johnny killed Timothy? Seems he killed Rachel, too."
"Yes, she knew."
[WATCHING THESE two implode in on each other is worth waiting to go get Anna for.]
[Oh, God, yes, hit her. hit her. Hit her. Hit Her!]
[I love this. I hated that little cunt from the start.]
[Oh, good; now he rapes the shit outta her. 'Bout God Damn Time.]
[PRAISE GOD, between Anna and now this, it's fucking Christmas.]
[WHAT? OH, no.]
"Guys. Wait. Listen. Let's work something out . . . .No I NNNMMRPPHHH!"
Vigils
"GOOD MORNING, sunshine."
"Mmmph."
"No, don't get up. I can see you're busy."
"MMMPPPHH!"
"I won't take but a moment of your time. Just a couple things."
"The first thing is that I want you to know that I'm grateful that you found Anna. I've been looking for her almost as long as I've been looking for you, and my appreciation is the only thing keeping you alive right now.
"The second thing is that I want you to know that for everything that has happened to Anna, and I do mean everything: I. Blame. You. And I'll prove that to you in a moment."
"The last thing is that I want you to know that we found all the evidence you thought you had, and I gotta tell ya, it was fairly funny. Nothing actually damning, nothing that would hold up in court. I really don't quite understand what you've been doing with all your days. No matter; it all burned nicely, so it's gone."
"Anyway. On to the proof of my feelings toward you and all your little friends. Boys, listen up."
"Mathew: I want you to find the detective, express my condolences for his first wife, and then empty your gun into him. Twice. And don't let him die until the last bullet. Don't lose count."
"Mark: Short and sweet. Get the slut daughter, throw her into the brothel. Give her something really hard to do."
"Luke: Call up the doctors of the law, and send Anna's cunt husband up for killing the coffee shop keeper. I don't care who he was, or what he did or didn't do. And have them start working on getting Johnny out, because I'm gonna need him."
"Someone get word to our good boy John that the cunt husband is to be a monk. No one touches him, no one talks to him. Ever. Let him rot."
"Paul: I've got a long term project for you. Take this filthy shit stain bitch whore out, and make her deaf. Make her blind. Cut out her tongue, cut out her clit. Nurse her back to health, and then make her scream her lungs out all day, every day, for what I want to be a very, very long life. And Paul: don't get bored."
"I don't think you'll even get Christmas off. So long, sweetie."
[HOLY MERCIFUL God in Heaven.]
[Please fuck me to death.]
[Now please.]
[Now please.]
[Now please . . . ]
Evaporation Burn
Paralysis
"I DO."
Rachel looked at me, smiled, and the air turned to water.
We swam out along the bottom of the sanctuary. Half of the eyes drowning, half were itching.
Later, after we got away, we fucked like rabbits all night long and all through the next day. And the next. I found all the ways into her body, and she found all the ways into mine.
The angels sang, peace, trust, and faith reigned supreme, flowers blossomed, and all our secrets were spilt. Except, she kept one. And later on, I kept one, too.
{click . . . . . . . . . . .}
Angels musta got tired of singing.
You fucking owe me, god.
Culp
"OH!"
"Oh!"
"Oh!"
"God I love you!"
"I want you to do this to me for the rest of my life!"
"I had no idea it was like this . . ."
"hhhhh"
"How do you do that?"
"Oh, who wants to sleep? I just need to be able to move my hands again."
"Can I say God some more? Please?"
"It is worth it all – don't stop! Don't for pity's sake stop! Ever!"
Oh. Rachel. Baby.
{. click . . . . . . . . . .}
TURNED OUT that Rachel was better at committing suicide than murder. She shot me twice in the face, and they never did fix it up right. I began to sound like I looked, and then I began to think like I sounded, and no one would have anything to do with me. The cursing-induced isolation didn't help calm me down one bit. And now I was estranged from our daughter. And then I began losing my temper. Lots.
Curses seem to be catchy.
{. . click . . . . . . . . . .}
MI.
So.
Miso.
Miso miso miso.
That's a Japanese soup.
Shoulda listened to my father.
Shoulda listened to his father.
Covenant
" . . . this woman . . ."
"I do."
And I was her white knight, complete with shiny white horse, and we were happy. Our home was our castle. Magic was in the air, and love was in the night. Every night.
Until she fucking spawned, and became a wife without benefits, and I began to appreciate beauty. Two little secrets was all it took.
{. . . click . . . . . . . . . }
I THINK I met my second wife at a bar. This is how she proposed: "God I love it when you talk dirty to me."
We got married overnight, and I was still drunk as a skunk the next morning. Some kinda gift horse. She said she was bringing in a surprise, and some babbly bible-y crap, and suddenly, I was fucking my new wife and my daughter. Like it was their idea.
Not that I minded. It was almost like . . . .but this might actually be better. Together they have a bit of the beauty in them.
God's finally startin' to do his fuckin' job and make things up to me, with a bonus: They're both Ditch Lickers. Eventually, they'd snowball out of each other's ass every night. There was fisting on-demand. Never ending rim and blowjobs. Gagging contests until at least one of them would pass out. My own living breathing pornapalooza, in my own house, twenty-four-seven. I swear, my Fleezy Second Wife had to have at one time been a fat chick with no self-esteem, 'cause there's nothing she won't do.
That was when I started seeing Rachel again. If Rachel had been more like Anal Candy Skank Wife Number Two (who lets me number one and two, right in her mouth), things mighta turned out better.
{. . . . click . . . . . . . .}
MASSAGE.
Massage . . . .eeee . . . .yyoo.
Massagio . . . gear . . . olo . . . gist
Massagiogeariologist. In purgatory.
The anguished masseuse of a mecha-fucking-anical engineer. Ooo.
Wolf
"LOOK, YOU did good work bringing that thug in, but you can't be talking to me that way."
"We've tried to be patient with you because of the whole Rachel thing."
"What did I just say?"
"What do you have, fucking Turrets?"
"Get out of here! You're suspended! And don't come back until you've seen a shrink. Anger management counselor. Fuck, go see a priest!"
The way the glass to his door fell away when I threw my gun at him, the shocked look on his face, was worth the badge.
Hell, I'm not mad at anyone, Chief. Except, of course, now you.
Well, ok, that faggity douchebag mafioso that was fucking my baby girl without my permission. I showed his ass, and now, heh, he's showing his ass, too.
Not to mention the Thistletwat Cumsucking Gutter Slut I have for a daughter.
Oh, and the Mud Wallet Spermflapping Fucktress who doesn't have the word 'no' in her vocabulary.
And especially, that Chanky Cronkadilipig Ditzy Flangemonger Hosebeasting Sausage Jockey Rachel.
{. . . . . . click . . . . . . }
HEY, YOU know that gun? Needs cleaning.
Now where's my Damn-She's-Gotta-Be-A-Whore-Wife? Time for her to get beasted.
"Uuhhhh!"
"Og-g-g-god. Huhh Huuh! nnnmpfpfpfphphph!!"
"Stop stop stopstoppp STOP STOP! Wait!"
"hhhhhh hhhhhh hhhh"
Who needs a job.
"Slow down, cowboy, it'll be nngkkhnkgnk"
This is such a better use for your mouth. You talk too much. Blow me 'til you barf.
"kk Kkk kk kkng kk ngngngn nnnnnnnnnn"
Huh? Rachel?
Thought I saw her.
{. . . . . . . click . . . . .}
MISO . . . GYNO . . . cologist.
Felicit Misogynocologist. That would be an unhappy female Japanese soup doctor.
My father used to tell me something about women. Might help if I could remember it.
Ortive
"YES, I'M sure."
"Yes, go in at the back of the church. The minister's son opened a coffee shop there."
"Trust me."
Here goes.
{. . . . . . . . click . . . .}
SHIT, THE Aviation Blond Bimbo here thinks she's manipulating me. Can't figure out her game. Why doesn't she understand what really happened to Rachel? Must be a Sister of Mercy Fuck thing, or a Sorostitution Prank.
So why do I put up with it?
"Ngyk ngyk ngyk ngyk ngyk ngyk"
Oh yeah. That's why. And maybe this.
"KKKKKKK! Uuuunkghgg!"
You wiggle so good when that happens!
"Oh fuck fuck fuck …fuck fuck aarrrggghhh…!!"
I cannot stop marking this woman. The lines, the sworls, oh. They way the old lines underscore the new ones. Now That Is Beautiful.
"Oh oh ah ah nuuh uuh uuuh uuuh uuhhh."
What'll we do tonight? Wire Hangers? Toothpicks under the fingernails? Hey! Have we got any scissors?
"Hhhh Hhhh mmhhhHH Ha HAA HHAAAA‼ OOHHH‼!"
Shall we see how much we can shorten your Worthless Life Support System for a Collection of Holes?
"Holy Mary, Mother of Grace, Save us in our hours…"
Silence, ass wipe. Have a gag.
"IF HE told you to shave, do it. I didn't, and he then took mine off. With a box of matches."
Jizzabelle Whorebag doesn't seem to understand that I can hear her when she says things to the Cumvalve Whoreslag. Time for a lesson.
"UUuuuggghhhh!"
Gettin' any messages yet?
"Oh god stop."
How about now?
"It hurts wait please stop stop stop stop I don't want to do this anymore!"
Ding Dong, Avon calling. Is this the Bitch Flake residence?
"Aarrrrrggghhh Noooooo!"
I think that's the first time I've ever heard you use the word 'no'. It's rather fetching.
"Aahh ah ahh AAHH."
I could do this all night. You?
"UNGHGHN!!!"
{. . . . . . . . . click . . . }
Ma..sa..da . . . gloomcookie . . . expialoudocious . . . ..fuck. Mary Suicidal Poppins Emo Jew Whore.
Delivery
{. . . . . . . . . .click . .}
SO. THE Fur Lapping Walking Abortion Waiting to Happen wanted to bring a friend over to the Troglodyke Two O'clock Beauty Queen and me. Her little friend Anna turned out to be a fairly Splashable Fuck Muppet. Who knew she even had a friend? Sumthun's gotta be done.
What's that?
Not a bad idea, to torture the new girl first. Now shut up, you Skankopotomus Twat. Gotta talk to the Bonemaking Slore.
"DADDY PLEASE no!"
Oh, yes. Do it. To her. To your new little Cum Dump Dick Mitten Vaginous Vertical Bacon Sandwich Girlfriend. Her.
"Please don't say that."
Don't you fucking argue with me, Slunt.
"Oh god, nnnno! I-I-I- wwwon't! Wwwhyyyy?"
Have you been learning words from the Yackasarus Rex Bitchstain With Pussychops? Because I'm your motherfucking father, you Splitass Pigstain.
"Notttt thattt pleeeassee ggoddd nooooooo"
Good, you still can't stand that, can you, you Seadonkeying Cumditch.
"AHH AHHH AHHHAHGR AARRHHH ARRGGGHHH"
I keep hearing that the screams of a beautiful woman is the most satisfying thing in the world. We'll see; tonight, I got three. Party on.
I GOTTA say, beating Rachel's Little Clone's Little Slutastic Friend was rather refreshing. When I threw her out of the car, she was more dead than alive.
I gotta say, beating and raping Rachel's Little Clone tonight was soul cleansing. More so than usual. There may be a way to redeem myself yet with that little Porntastic Heifferidge Hat Shiner.
But doing this to you, you Waste of Gash Spunkdrunk Supercunt who thinks she's such an Astronaut's Wife, though, is so intensely gratifying, I gotta say, it leaves plain sex, hell, even rough sex, fish-flopping in the dirt, you Skunny Tuna Bucket.
Now be a good little Skuck and stay there a minute.
I crack myself up sometimes.
Oh great. The clothes and the hair all burned quite nicely, but now she's gone out, and I can't keep her lit.
C'mon, princess, you get to ride in the trunk. Let's see if we can find some gas.
{. . . . . . . . . . . click .}
MISOGYNIST. AH. A hater of women. Yep, that's me. The Grieving Misogynist. Made that way by the women in my life. All the Bitches and Whores and Sluts and Cunts that have taken so much from me in my poor sad pathetic excuse for a life.
And that thing my father tried to tell me? Had to do with thumbs. And the sonofabitch was absolutely right. Like his father before him.
Accede
UH OH. That thug's boss has friends. Big friends.
"You've fucked us up for the last time. Think of the bullets as complimentary. Sorta like a bonus. And our condolences for your wife."
{. . . . . . . . . . . . click}
I DON'T think I'm going to have very much more time to hate you. Yer gettin' off easy.
Moron. Thinks he's giving me a lesson. Everything I know I learned from my wife.
How to love despite bullets and children and death and love itself. How to steal another man's fiancée. How to cheat on your wife with your daughter and almost not get caught. How valiance really works in the long run. And that rage never ends, even after it has hollowed you out and taken everything, and I do mean everything, from you, even the dust from your insides.
And I learned that her beauty, and my awful irresistible addictive overwhelming need for it, made nothing I could do to have it again to be too much. Not even when it landed in the one person it shouldn't have, and I couldn't stop myself. It was always all my fault. Rachel went insane. Catchy stuff.
{. . . . . . . . . . . . }
{. . . . . . . . . ..}
{. . . . . . . . . .}
{. . . . . . . . . }
"Does anyone here have any reason that this man and this woman should not be joined here today in holy matrimony?"
{. . . . . . ..}
{. . . . . . .}
{. . . . . . }
{. . . ..}
"I do."
{. . . .}
{. . . }
{..}
Now where'd I put my steed?
{.}
{}
Shattering Puddles
Yu
Arson at Church
Two hospitalized. Two dead. Suspect at Large.
Video evidence stolen.
Police investigating…
"I GOT it, Boss. No. Yeah. No, he can't. No. Wait, what? You're kidding."
"And? What is it?"
"It's Anna. I think…it's Anna…"
"DID YOU watch it? Tell me a story, Luke."
"Seems the Whore's had been taping at Simon's house. Don't know the connection, but the Whore was fucking pretty much everybody, like she always did. A regular soap opera."
"Anna showed up at Simon's house, twice. Once for 3 days, and the second time, Simon's Wife tied up Anna and then killed Simon. The Whore was late to both those parties."
"The Whore apparently liked to watch. We found another set of tapes at the Cop's place. He beat the shit out of her and Simon's wife there, a lot."
"The last tape showed the three of them with Anna. He made Simon's wife burn up Anna. He then beat the crap out of everyone, and set the Whore on fire."
Rel
THE WEDDING was embarrassing, to say the least, and I'll never go through anything like that again. In deference to Rachel, I haven't had that bastard dropped off a cliff. Maybe she'll be a little bit happier.
God, I hate that man.
At least, she left me Anna.
Makoto
"GOD YES, rape my ass! Yes! Yes! Uhgh! Ugh! Ugh!"
"I love being your little fucktoy. Anytime and any way you can think of."
"You can hit me, if you want. Fuck, a baseball bat would be fine with me."
"Put your hands around my neck. That's it. Squeeze. UnnnnHghn. Harder. gggghhhh fuck me."
"Mmmmm, yeeahh, I love this. I'll do this every day for the rest of your life. You'll never need to use a toilet again."
"Here. Have you ever put needles into a woman? Here. Here. God, yes, that hurts. More."
"Give me a cigarette. Watch this."
"Yyuuyyughghg. Hhhh Hhhh. uuuuyyuhghgh. God, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. Don't get up. I'll lick it up."
"I swear, I will never, ever bore you. Want another girl? A boy? I'll get them for you."
"Dogs? Horses? Pigs? Goats? Fish? Sure. Love to."
"I'll do anything for you."
"I would die for you."
"I WASN'T asking how your day was, Bitch. I was asking about the money."
Gi
"WHAT HAPPENED, Mark?"
"Really, Boss, we didn't know she was there."
"I don't know what that means."
"We was doin' Timothy out like you said, and at the end, we heard the noises and saw Anna. She ran out before we realized what was happenin'. I'm so sorry, Boss."
TIMOTHY DESERVED it. He and the Bitch Whore were thieving me.
Hell, we're all thieves. Stupid saying about honor.
I don't know that I have the heart for this anymore. I miss my baby.
I think Anna's vanishing is what started softening me up. God damn it, in my mis-fucking-spent youth, everyone would have been waxed over this.
Chuugi
"I'M SO sorry. I got married."
"Who cares. It's all going to be all right."
"Will you really do this for me? And please don't hurt him."
"I really don't want to, but yes, I will. I love you."
"I love you, too. And thank you. I'll always know when you're there."
"I don't know that I can say 'my pleasure', but I'll figure something out, and make it work."
Melyo
"DO YOU want to explain this, Chief Mathew?"
"Simon ran the coffee shop in the back of the church. His wife survived the fire, he didn't."
"They were all at the church when the fire started. The girls were pretty badly beat up and burned."
"This one was there, too."
"SO, PULL back the sheet."
" . . ."
" . . ."
" . . ."
"That's Anna."
"Are you sure, Boss?"
"As if I don't know my own daughter."
"…"
"Looks to me like the Whore of Babylon is behind it all. Good thing she's alive. Vengeance is mine."
MORONS. AS if I don't know my own daughter. Here goes . . .
Jin
"READY TO go to dinner, Paul?"
"Yeah, just finishing up here. These things are a mess."
"How'd it go today?"
"The usual."
"Can she hear us?"
"Nope, stone deaf. Blind as a bat. She can't talk. Just like he wanted. And I know what I'm doing hurts."
"What is she saying?"
"No clue. She babbles a lot, especially when the Boss comes to watch. She has to be crazy in there by now. But I think I'm still getting through to her. She makes sounds that sound like 'please, no, please, no' a lot."
"Need any help?"
"Nah, let's just go."
"What'll you do tomorrow?"
"I thinking maybe needles. I'll dull some in the morning."
PRAISE GOD from Whom all Blessings Flow.
God bless Papi; make him happy.
God, please bless Paul, and all he does to me.
Thank you, Lord, for making what matters happen between my ears, and not my legs.
Yesterday was electricity. Today was stinging nettles. That means tomorrow is needles.
I can't wait.
Please more.
Please more.
Please more.
Your grateful servant forever,
Anna.
Amen.
Ezekiel Retrograde
From the Apocryphal Books of Anna
EDITORS NOTE: Below is the best majority reconstruction of the contents of a handwritten file found in Unclaimed Safety Deposit Box Auction #240510007BYGH22. The original has since been destroyed; many pages appear to have been lost forever. Of the remaining content, there are no page numbers or dates, and efforts to find the peoples and places referred to have been unfruitful. Scholarly debate continues to rage as to what the file even is; the top three current theories are a confessional letter, a metaphorical prophecy of an unknown apocalypse, and the mindless scribblings of an asylum tenant.
I USED to live in my Papi's mansion on his compound in the middle of the city. Okay, mansion is not quite the right word. More like a palace. It is huge and all the walls are hand-carved, at least the ones not covered in tapestries. And the estate was, like, 50 square miles. There were at least a dozen roads going into it, and it was all incredibly beautiful. There was a stream that is more like a river (you could swim and fish in it), grottos, groves of fruit trees that had fruit year-round, and more outdoor fireplaces than you can count. There were amazing sex parties here, and it was all just the way he wanted it. Everybody understood the message of that place: "I am large and in charge."
Palace isn't even a big enough way to describe it.
It was a temple.
PAPI HAD these guys who worked for him. They were known as "The Gospel", which was a bad joke based on their names. And I never really understood it, because there were five of them. Weren't there only four Gospels in the Bible? I always thought "The Fingers" would be a better name, because that's what they looked like. They're all different heights, and there's one fat one. One of their very important jobs was to protect me. Whenever we'd go anywhere, one of them would sit and watch the outside while the other four came in with me. They rotated the outside job, and they always argued as to whose turn it was. When people would talk to me, they would say, "Your Papi does look out for you, doesn't he?"
I worked for my father.
What I did was kinda weird. When Papi wanted something from someone, I got to put on my nicest clothes, and he sent me out to talk to them. The Fingers went in with me, and I delivered a speech Papi had written, and they'd say they'll give him what he wants. And it worked every time. No one ever said 'no', and you might think it was because of the four big guys I had with me, or because of the speeches (most of which I really didn't understand), or because they were just afraid of Papi.
But I think I know what the real reason was. Me. Because when they said 'yes', I was expected to have sex with them. It's the way Papi wanted it, and I think it was all well understood about the things Papi wanted. And I had to do it with everyone there. Once, we even went to the morgue, which was really scary, and there were a lot of people there, which I thought was odd. But I did it with all of them.
The Fingers got to, too. I might have been part of their pay, and I'm sure that's why they argued. But they did a good job, and we almost always went out to eat afterwards. Usually, all I could handle was coffee.
I'd never been hurt in any way when we went out. Not a scratch, not an ache or a pain, and everyone was perfectly nice about it and it was all "normal". Almost like church.
Sometimes, when they thought I couldn't hear them, they'd call me "The Altar", which I think is another terrible joke about things that happen in church, but I don't really understand it.
Does this make me a prostitute?
SOMETIMES, IF they thought things might get rough at the parties, The Fingers had my sister go with us.
She's not really my sister. More like a half sister.
When a man has sex with someone other than his wife, and they have a child, that child is called a bastard, right? What is it when it's the woman who does that? That's what my sister is to me. My Papi is not her Daddy.
My sister grew up in the brothels, and she worked for Papi, too. I think she had a hard job at the brothels, because she always had little bruises on her. When I would ask her about it, she'd laugh and tell me not to be so silly. I think The Fingers would sometimes take her so they could do things they couldn't do to me.
People would do anything to my sister, even disgusting things, especially when I had my period and they wouldn't have me.
She was always trying to get people to do things for her, and I could never tell if she was playing a trick on me or not. She even tried to tell me she knew who her real Daddy was, and the things they did together, which I'm sure she was lying about.
My sister was a whore.
MAMI WAS beautiful, with long hair, and her body was perfect; I don't ever remember her wearing clothes. Papi found her in town at an orphanage, but I think Papi knew who her parents were.
Mami used to have my job. But when she'd go out to get people to do what Papi wanted, she'd give away the jewelry and clothes Papi gave her, on top of having sex with everyone. He'd give her more and more stuff, and she'd just give it away. Sometimes, I think she went out when Papi didn't send her. I don't think Papi liked that, especially when she started taking me out with her. She was like my sister; anything went. But Papi wouldn't let that happen to me, so The Gospel started going out with us, and after a while, Mami started staying home, spending more and more time at the fireplaces on the estate, and it was just me and the Fingers. And sometimes my sister.
And then Papi found out about Mami and my sister. It makes no sense to my why he didn't know this.
IT SEEMS that Mami was always pregnant after that, but she never had another baby. Whenever she'd lose another one, she'd end up at the hospital, and later, after everything had happened, when I would sneak up to see her, she always looked she had been in a car wreck. When I'd ask her how she was, and if she was okay, she'd laugh, and say that her Princess shouldn't worry.
When Papi found the man who fathered my sister, he had me deliver the message to him in a house down by the river. His name was Timothy, and he just laughed when I read the speech. The Gospel had me leave the room for a while, and when I came back, Timothy was tied up on a wheel. They had me read the speech again, and Timothy just laughed again, and swore a lot. The Fifth Finger pulled me out of the house and took me down to the river, but when he sent me back in later, Timothy was covered in wires. I read the speech the third time, and my voice was shaking – I was so scared. No one had ever done this before to me. I reminded him what he would get if he would do what Papi wanted. He spat at me.
They told me to turn around, and Timothy started screaming and laughing, and the Gospel was swearing at him, and the smell was awful. I could hear them beating on him and buzzing sounds and screamings and the smell got worse and worse, and then it was suddenly quiet. I couldn't breathe because it smelled so bad.
I ran out and I ran down the road and The Gospel was shouting after me and I had to get away.
By the time I found my sister, I couldn't talk hardly at all. I never saw her again after that night. The Fingers caught up with me after I left her.
THEN TERRIBLE things started happening. People were brought onto Papi's estate and the lucky ones were just executed. The rest were tied down and left there until they starved to death. People would cry at me when I would be brought by them by The Gospel, and The Fingers were cruel to those poor people. Some of them even tried eating the people near them, but they all ended up dying anyway. There were bodies everywhere. And I don't know if anyone was even left in town.
It was pouring rain outside when Papi called me into his room, and I was too frightened to talk. He tried to tell me to not be afraid, but I started crying, and I couldn't stop. He called The Gospel in, and told them to take me out to a house at the edge of the estate, and make sure I didn't leave. Tie me down, if they had to.
It was the house Timothy died in. I started screaming and twisting and fighting them. The lightning crashed, and suddenly I was in the water drifting away and I couldn't get out and The Fingers were shouting after me, getting quieter and quieter, except for the sound of the rain. By the time I could get out of the river, way far downstream, I had decided.
I would speak for my Father no more.
My name is Anna.
I am thirty years old.
Postscript
"SHE'LL NEVER get out, will she."
"No. You wouldn't believe the stories she tells, the world she's built. She doesn't respond to anything we've tried; the best we can hope for is to make her comfortable, and wait. At least she's usually not trying to hurt anyone else any more. Mostly just herself."
"Too bad. She's pretty."
"Don't even think about it. The last guy that tried anything, well, she took care of him and he was over before we could get to them. She's safer, hell, you're safer if we just let her dream."
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