Melancholy Jeannie

He got off the bike, popped one of her ear buds out, and told her to "wait here." The beam of the bike went ahead into the tangle of small trees that dream of one day growing up to the canopy. He was gone into the darkness. She took out the ear buds. Her ears were numbed from the death metal music. She could not sense him anywhere. Without his body in front her, she could feel the cold of the night pushing against her front. Where was she? Bearwood County?

He reappeared with a dead squirrel in his hand. The fur was pale. It looked so much skinner being dead. The fur wasn't as bushy. "We need him for later," he said matter-of-fact. "Hold him for me." She had the soft furry animal in her hand. He was still warm. It was so limb. She wanted to shriek for a moment and yell at him, "What is wrong with you?" And then she remembered, she had to step up. She was going into his world of demons and the devil. What had she expected? Get over yourself and take the gift that you are given.

He climbed back on the bike. She hugged him again. Only this time, she was holding a dead squirrel in one hand. She was trying to come to grasp with her emotions of holding a dead, cute animal in her hand. It riled her up. There were so many emotions that she went through this night. It made her feel so alive. It wasn't the rollercoasters from the travelling circus that she liked. It was the emotional rollercoasters and adventures that she loved. And this was one gut wrenching twist on the rollercoaster.

Houses appeared around them. His driving become more docile. The first car passed them. A city sign announced urban life. A gas station passed. The houses grew denser and taller. The front lawns disappeared. Street lamps lit up the wet, black pavement with orange light. Advertising billboards appeared. The first homeless sleeping under a tarp appeared. A bar was still lit up with a gaggle of people in front of it. A police cruiser watched them pass from a side alley.

The bike stopped in front of a three story building. The right half of the house had collapsed. The Concrete floor stuck into the air from the standing half of the house. Wood boards covered the windows. A yellow police tape covered the front door, a big towering door up heavy stairs. Denis parked the bike and duck under the police tape. The door wasn't locked. Jeannie followed him. The paper with red ink on the wall said: "Condemned building -- DO NOT ENTER."

The inside of the building was crumbled concrete on the floor. The wall on the right was entirely missing. The night light and street light lit up the room. It felt cold and abandoned.

"The stairs are collapsed. Here, I'll give you a hand to get up to the second floor."

There was a big pile of concrete on the ground. At the end of it, her eyes looked up. There was the ledge, the original end of the stairs. He grabbed her body and pushed her up. He got her far enough, so that she could lean her torso forward onto the second floor. Then, she robbed herself forward. The front of her body was dragging through the cold, dirt on the ground. Her hand still clutched onto the dead squirrel. Her legs were punching into the empty space left behind by the stairs trying to get forward.

She got to her knees. Her sea sack came flying behind her. He found some smart footholds in the wall and crawled up behind her. It was cute to look down at him lying underneath her feet, her long legs and the high heels that made her tower over him.

Among all the debris from the collapse, he led her to a door that had light seeping through the slits. He opened the door. The first thing she felt was warmth, then light, and then she recognized the comforts of couches, rug, chairs, kitchen, and stove. There was a half prepared meal on a cutting board. Green carrot tops, red tomatoes, brown eggs. Behind it stood a young woman half dressed in a blue negligée holding a chef's knife with a twelve inch blade.

The blade pointed straight at the squirrel in Jeannie's hand. "We shall name him Matt." Her negligée was a blue body suit that covered her groin with a triangle. Many parts of the body suit were sheer. Other parts showed up as dark, delicate lines. Even though, there were sheer parts, Jeannie couldn't see the skin, because a sheer cape was thrown over the woman's body.

"That is Simone. Jeannie is going to stay with us for as long as she wants."

Jeannie felt really silly and blushed. She had thought, she'd have Denis as a boyfriend. Such a catch would never be single. What had she told herself in her dreams on the bike? That feeling of being one was temporary, not a life commitment.

"Why don't you through Matt into the fridge. They become stinky, when they are kept outside.

Jeannie stepped through the mess on the floor. There was a rolled up carpet. There was a football. There was a bike helmet. There was a worn t-shirt turned inside out. A dildo was lying there as well. The kitchen floor was an island of clean. The kitchen was the brightest place in the house. She opened up the refrigerator. It was a Viking high end model. Beer was inside. The space was packed with jars and fresh produce in bags. There was even a fish that had simply been thrown in there without a container or bag.

"Just toss it wherever you find space," said the woman behind her.

After Jeannie shut the fridge door, Jeannie looked up and down the mystery girl's body. Her skin was satin and smooth. Her hair was lush. The nails were painted in a black that shimmered blue. Gloss was applied on top of it. That woman had beauty products that she didn't have access to in her little village. It made her look stunning. Jeannie wanted to touch the woman to feel what it feels like. She raised her fingers a little. And then shyly froze.

"Denis has a thing for picking up bar rags, doesn't he? He has a thing for finding hopeless girls in the villages to bring them home and clean them up. Did you know his business is to spend every night in a different rural village? That's his territory. None of the city dealers bother with the countryside. That's his niche. And he likes it. He can't stop himself, because he is drawn to the village damsels to free them. I'm Simone. He picked me up in Amberville."

Simone stretched her hand out far. The fingers were neatly straight. There were so many rings on her finger. The index finger had even three rings. Some were skinny things. Some had druid etchings. A charm was dangling from her wrist, a big red ruby encased in rough metal working. Jeannie took Simone's hand in both of hers and turned it over. There was a big, black rectangle tattooed on Simone's hand.

"You sure know where to look for property markings and aren't shy," said Simone not the slightest annoyed.

"Will I get that mark as well?" asked Jeannie fighting for her breath to slow down. "I have never gotten a tattoo. Will it hurt?"

"You got a real cookie this time," said Simone to Denis. "Time will tell. For tonight, you are here only for my famous stew and a couch to sleep on."

"I can be real useful. Just tell me how I can help you cook!"

"Bambi deer," Simone shook her head with full hearted laughter, "take the wooden spoon over there and break down the ground beef."

The ground beef had been browning in a pot with sizzling olive oil. The aroma caressed Jeannie's nose: "It smells real good." "Of course, it does. It's organic, free range." Simone drizzled minced onions in into Jeannie's pot. Jeannie mashed and mixed it real well. Jeannie watched Simone lay out all the ingredients in small glass bowls. Everything looked so fresh and radiant. The natural light bulb over the kitchen counter sure helped. Denis was laying out his drugs and money on the other side of the table to do accounting, while the girls cooked together with a growing warm respect.

When dinner was ready, they were sitting around the table with their deep plates full of stew on a bed of rice. The utensils were waiting at the ready. An awkward moment crept up for Jeannie: "So, you probably don't pray to god. Do you thank the devil for the food before you eat?" Denis lowered his head reverently. His hands reached under the table. Jeannie followed suit, closing her eyes and blinking to sneak a look at what he was doing.

Simone waved, "We don't thank fucking nobody." And then Denis' hands rose above the table in a swoop movements. His palms were facing up reverently and fire was licking out of his hands. Blue flames were twitching upward. "Holy gosh, what a real prayer," gasped Jeannie. Simone sighed, "It's a $3 jar from the novelty store. It's a petroleum jelly that burns really cold. He can't get enough of it. Is that how he made you so doe-eyed?"

Starting to spoon food into her hungry mouth, Simone asked, "So, what's your story? How did Denis pick you up?"

The stew was delicious in Jeannie's stomach. Her stomach was like this empty cold cave that was warmed by the lushest paradise. It had been half a day since her last supper with her dead.

"My mom died today five years ago. My dad forgot. I didn't. I can't ever remember that last hour of talking with my mom. She was in the bed under the roof. The roof is so slanted that nobody can stand upright. I was sitting on a little stool and holding her hand. She told me about all the dreams that she had for her life. Some were real cuckoo. She though, people in England could fly. She believed that there was a fairy world at the bottom of a big lake near Detroit. Her mind was lucid. However, she had never seen the world. She had only once gone to the city. And it had impressed her so much, so that she listened to all the stories of travelers. She had no way of telling what was truth and yarn. She believed it all to be true. The world beyond the village was magical. 'Don't die like me in the wheat fields' were her last words."

"All day working in the field, I had been thinking about that. I don't know either yarn from truth. Riding a bike at 100 mph today was magical. I could have never imagined how it feels. I don't want to die like my momma. I want to live."

"So, I took my nicest jeans and cut off the legs. I went to the wildest bar I know. I only know one bar. I made the craziest bet I could. I only know about pool bets. I fucked a man in a truck. That cock felt so good. Why can't I have a cock every day like I can have a cookie every day? Both are delicious. It was only a shame it was over so quick. It's like you need a handful of cookies to satisfy that kind of sweet tooth."

"You mean, one of those drunk hill billies had a premature ejaculation?" interrupted Simone.

"Somehow, it all got caught on a cell phone camera. Someone forwarded the video to my daddy. My daddy disowned me. Denis offered me a life of drugs, music, and demons. He also gave me a dead squirrel to hold onto. That's my story. Well and there is your wonderful stew."

"Yeah, he's very nonchalant with his ritual sacrifices. My story is about the same. He found me in Amberville. My family was running a mill at the creek. We had so many cousins. My daddy had so many bastard children. I suspect the village realized that he couldn't keep track. I think a few of them weren't even his own kids. They were simply orphans sold to him as bastard kids. I was his true born daughter. The other kids didn't like it. The cousins kept molesting and raping me," Simone took up telling her story.

"One day, they were all having a little family get-together. Not too far from the mill was a little forest at the creek. They put out the picnic blanket. The cousins tied me up real good. And then one of the dumb fucks had to have heard about bukhake. So, they all decided to have their first bubkahke with me. On the plus side, I wasn't being raped that day. On the downside, they were shooting big blobs of white jelly all over my body, face, and hair. It stings like a mother fucker getting that into the eyes. They made me hold my mouth and eyes open real wide. And it gets sticky and crusty really quickly in the summer sun as well."

"So, Denis rode by on his bike and stopped. He watched me for a while. He was smiling real well. One of my cousin's yelled in excitement with his dick in his hand growing limp after a shot in my ear, 'Go get the Devon's brothers. We need more cum!' That's when Denis strode down the embankment of the river's high flood line. I had my mouth and eyes wide open. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see the dirt collapsing under his boots on the way down the embankment."

"'Say jolly fellas, is that woman into that stuff or are you forcing here?' I could see that he wanted to offer his seed. However, he wanted to make sure that that bukhake was cruelty free. I was sitting real nice with my good posture on my heels, naked. 'Go to hell! She's family!' yelled a cousin."

"In that moment, I realized that I had a chance. I could take a huge risk and follow that stranger on the bike. Or I could live the familiar live full of incest and abuse. I knew that not everyone who does you well means you well. It's like the little bird that got shat on by a cow. A cat saved it, took it out of the cow dung, cleaned it up real nice, and ate it. There was a twitch in my heart. Call that twitch hope, hope for a better world. Call that twitch love, lover for myself. And I called out 'help me.'"

"Denis laughed really bright. Even the birds in the canopy got scared and took of flying. The sound of a thousand little bird wings was thundering. 'I've been to hell. I loved it there,' hollered Denis loudly. Then he lifted his devils ring with the shining eyes and showed them the fist. The other hand snapped an expandable metal stick. The sound of metal clicking in place gave me deathly chills up and down my spine."

"Two cousins stormed him, strong farm hands, heavy corn-fed bodies, and dumb. They stormed at him hands first to grab him. The expandable baton came down twice. And they were reeling on the ground. Mind you, I had about ten cousins with me. It was a good load of cum all over my body. They went down one after the next. Except for Donnie, he got a knife out of his boot. Donnie got one clean swipe down Dennis' butt. Then Dennis dragged Donnie by pushing two fingers into his nostrils."

"I was still tied up. The cum was drying on me in a film of crackles. Denis was mad at being cut. He stretched out Donnie on the ground over a stone. He made Donnie stretch out his limps. Dennis tore Donnie's overall and shirt off. Then, Dennis cut oven a squirrel and let the blood drizzle on Donnie. Back then, I didn't know why someone would ride around with a dead squirrel."

"While I watched, I was equally in horror about what I had gotten myself into. My new overlord seemed a lot worse than the others. At the same time, I had a deep internal catharsis. All the pain that the cousins had inflicted on me for years, he was getting punished for it. Dennis was giving Donnie over to a demon called Heinrich. The terror in Donnie's eyes touched a deep place in me, a place deep and full of rage. And with every breath of anger, I felt myself becoming me again, no longer a rag of a jizz rag for the boys devoid of me. As Donnie was given over to the dark side, my own soul came back, like a trade. And I was happy again. I smiled. I could feel the warmth of the place around me, the joy of summer. I felt free, like a curse had been lifted of me."

"All the while, Donnie's face was tormented with horror and grew ashen. Dennis forced Heinrich inside of the body of the dead squirrel. Then, Donnie had to eat the squirrel, so that Heinrich would get into every cell of his body. Donnie's face was tormented. His teeth had to tear hard at the raw meat. He throat had to swallow hard to get the bones down. I've never seen Donnie or my family every again. However, I belief that Donnie can no longer smile and enjoy life, because of what he knows has happened to him."

Denis got up and stripped his pants down his butt. His butt was a little hairy. The scar was straight, a good three inches.

"Dennis didn't turn out all that bad. He took me on his bike. We stopped at the next gas station. He bought glue. He made me glue the cut together and put duct tape over it. That was about half year ago. He helped me enroll in a local community college."

The plates and the pot was empty. Jeannie gleaned up the last remnants of stew liquid on her white plate. Simone started piling the dirty dishes into the Viking dish washer. Dennis walked over to the king sized mattress with the messy sheets in the corner. He stripped out of his leather gear. He was wearing a thong that packed his privates into a tight ball. Tattoos of dragons, demons, and mystic symbols were tattooed all over his body. It was hard to make out the details in the dark corner. He nestled under the white sheets and turned over.

Jeannie added her plate to the dish washer. Simone had already moved over to the other side of the room to turn off the light and slip out of her gown. Only dressed in her body suit, she slipped under the sheets and put her head and arm on top of Dennis.

Left by herself in the bare light coming through the wood boards in the window, Jeannie found herself a couch. There were sheets on the couch, muddled heavy sheets. She slipped out of her shoes, mini jeans, and white t-shirt. She followed suit to sleep in her underwear. Her mind was replaying the scenes of the night. She half dozed into slumber. She half woke up to look around her surroundings. All the comforts of good living were strew out on the floor around her. Another three couches all in their own unique style had been dropped down seemingly randomly in the room.

When her consciousness came up out of a dreamy slumber back into half sleep, she felt a soft, female hand on her thighs. The sheets gently glided over her skin. They felt so soft and luxurious. The heated night air was warm on her exposed skin. The fingers on her body got more pointed and forceful, when they grabbed around the side of her panties and pulled down. The tension of the band in her panties got tighter down her thighs.

Jeannie raised her head alarmed. A finger pressed on her lips. It was Simone's voice. "Hush, I know what you need after a man got you riled up and didn't give you release." With that her panties got pulled of her toes, where the rolled up fabric had gotten caught. Simone confidently put one leg on the couch back rest and the other down to the ground. Jeannie's pussy was exposed. The lips folded open melancholically, as the moistness tried to keep the sticking together.

Jeannie silently listened with her body for what was coming next. The squelching sounded tube like. Next, she felt cold, wet fingers against her mound. The film of moist was thin and slick. The cold made her skin pull together thick. And then the coldness was warmed up quickly from her body. The hands made big circles over her mound to distribute the slick liquid all over.

The warm feelings made Jeannie drowsy. She had barely been out of her slumber of colors and shapes. The dream world came back to her retina: Forests, birds, and blue circles spinning. The hands focused on her lips now. Fast, mellow strokes, hard on the upstroke -- soft on the down stroke, circles, pressing down to her pubic bone. All these movements were so much more delicious than Ray's cock. She surprised herself with a moan. It wasn't the moan itself that was the biggest surprise. The biggest surprise was how sultry and deep the moan was. She had never experienced herself that way.

"Squeeze," commanded Simone. Two fingers in her pussy, Jeannie contracted her muscles around them. Simone pushed her hand down against her back wall, stretching her open. When she was stretched open all the way, the fingers eased and Simone repeated "squeeze."

Never having known so many things possible to her pussy, Jeannie surrendered to her animal instinct. Jeannie started grinding her hips against the fingers to get even more pleasure out of them. It was like the fingers were giving and her hips were taking every last bit of delicious honey like feeling.