Siblings with Benefits Lex Talionis Ch. 05

Cynthia groaned again as my lips left hers and, finding the soft flesh of her neck, began to kiss and softly suck on it.

"Oh Mark," Cynthia whispered in my ear. "Oh this feels so good!"

I let my arms down and, sliding them underneath her, lowered myself down on top of her so that our bodies were pressing tightly together. Cynthia wrapped both her arms and legs around me and we both sighed as our bodies became one. I found Cynthia's lips once more and found myself moaning softly into her mouth as I began to truly enjoy everything about her. The feeling of her flesh against mine, the smell of her skin and the sound of her tiny whimpers were all incredible. Cynthia's hands began to gently caress my back and shoulders and her hips started to rock back and forth in perfect rhythm to my own. The entire time we laid there kissing touching and enjoying I kept up the same slow deep strokes into her welcoming pussy.

"Oh Mark," Cynthia whispered again. "Oh honey this is sooo nice, oh please just keep going like this."

It was hard to tell how long we made love but it seemed as if it were lasting forever and I was enjoying every minute of it, except for another of those brief moments when I envisioned my sister's long dark hair and crystal blue eyes beneath me. Shaking that image off I started pumping a little bit harder and, as I did, Cynthia's sighs became moans and she whispered in my ear;

"Oh Mark, just like that, please I'm going to, I'm... ohhhh,"

With the softest sexiest whimper I had ever heard Cynthia came underneath of me. I moaned myself at the sound of her sighs in my ear and the way her tight wet pussy contracted around my cock. At that point, as much as I wanted to start fucking her hard and fast, I forced myself to keep going nice and slow. It turned out there was no need to rush as, after only a couple more minutes, I felt my own orgasm slowly building. I pulled my mouth from Cynthia's and started moaning as each teasingly slow stroke brought me closer.

"Oh yeah honey," Cynthia said softly running her fingers through my hair. "Go ahead and let go, nice and easy honey just.. ohhh yeah ohhh Mark!"

I groaned with her as, with the next stroke, I began cumming inside of her. I began to let out those pathetic whimpers as even my cumming seemed slow and easy; the cum slowly squirting from my cock rather than the hard spurts I was accustomed to. Cynthia wrapped her arms and legs around me even tighter as her pussy squeezed around my cock, milking every last drop of cum from it. When I was finished we both sighed and, rather than roll over, we stayed like that; our bodies wrapped tightly together holding each other.

I couldn't believe how good Cynthia felt lying beneath me and found myself wishing I had done it sooner. Well as long as everything worked out today we would definitely be doing it again and if for some reason things went bad later then at least I gave Cyn as well as myself a proper send off.

"Speaking of Mark it's time to get moving."

Reluctantly I rolled off of Cynthia and onto my side. Cynthia turned over on hers so that she was facing me and said;

"Mark that was incredible! I mean that felt amazing, I..."

Cynthia put her head down and when she looked back up I saw she had tears in her eyes.

"Mark that was the sweetest thing I've ever felt, thank you."

"You don't have to thank me Cyn." I told her.

Cynthia's answer was to slide over and, after giving me a quick kiss, hugged me closely and whispered in my ear;

"Mark, I always knew that deep down you could be sweet. I'm glad you decided to show me."

Cynthia went to pull away and this time it was me who hugged her and held her close to me.

"I'm glad you let me." I said softly.

Looking over her shoulder I saw it was ten past eight. The Voice was right I had to get my ass in gear. I let go of Cynthia and sitting up smiled at her and told her;

"Hey listen Cyn, I'm not trying to be a jerk but I have somewhere to be soon."

Cynthia looked disappointed but nodded.

"Okay, I mean it sucks to leave after that but," She shrugged. "I'll get going."

As I got up and slid a pair of jeans on, I watched Cynthia get up and admired her ass again as she slid, first her thong then the tight denim shorts back on. I laughed as, after looking at her bra, she said "fuck it" and shoved it in her purse. After sliding her t-shirt on she sat on the couch and, zipping up her boots, stood up and, coming over to me, put her arms out to me. I hugged her and, after she kissed my cheek, she said.

"Hey Mark, bar's closed tonight, wanna go do something?"

"I can't tonight." I told her.

Seeing the instant look of here we go on her face I quickly added;

"I'm around tomorrow night though, maybe we can do dinner?"

Cynthia smiled and nodded.

"I'd like that."

Me too I thought, as that would mean I'd have done what I needed to and not gotten myself caught. Cynthia made to walk past me but, catching her arm, I looked at her and said;

"Hey Cyn?"

"Yeah Mark?"

Leaning forward I kissed her softly and said;

"I just wanted to tell you how absolutely beautiful you are."

I had to smile as Cynthia suddenly blushed and let out another of those cute little giggles.

"Thank you Mark, that's... I mean you don't have to say..."

"Yeah I do Cyn," I began. "And I have to say thank you too, I've treated you like shit sometimes Cynthia and I'm sorry, you deserve better than that and I'm going to make it up to you."

Cynthia looked at me and once again I saw her begin to tear up.

"That... that means a lot Mark, thank you."

Cynthia hugged me and, as she did, I said in her ear;

"No Cynthia thank you."

Part 10: Every Dog has its Day.

I walked Cynthia down to her car and, after I watched her pull away, I walked back into the hallway and, taking out my key, let myself into the bar. Walking into the backroom I went into the first aid kit on the wall and after rummaging around found a pack of smelling salts and put them in my pocket. At some point today it was quite possible I might get carried away and knock Max unconscious, if that happened the salts would wake him up and get him to be able to play some more. Leaving the back room I went behind the bar and, grabbing the bottle of Jack Daniels, unscrewed the shot pourer from it and, bringing it to my lips, took several long swallows.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply as the liquor burned its way down my throat. I took a couple of more swallows then, screwing the top back on, put the bottle back and, after locking the door behind me, went back upstairs. Once there I decided to write a letter to my sister telling her how much I loved her and what she meant to me. I explained to her what I was going to do and why, and that I hoped she wouldn't be reading this, but if she was to know that I went to meet my destiny willingly and that it was not her fault, as no one could stop fate. I wrote the letter in Latin and, after signing it "love your beautiful little brother", put in an envelope along with a note for Tommy to give it to my sister when next he saw her.

I sealed the envelope and, after addressing it to Tommy, put a stamp on it. As I went back downstairs to put it in the mailbox on the corner of the street I frowned as something occurred to me. My sister was struggling and had been for a while now, but as bad as she had been, she also kept managing to straighten out for periods of time. It was these times that gave her parents as well as myself hope that eventually Megan would be okay for good.

While walking back to my apartment I continued thinking on it. I knew the only reason Megan managed to fight her addiction enough to get to those times was her family. For the first time since I had made up my mind that I was going to take my revenge on Max I wondered what would happen to my sister if something happened to me? In no way did I see Max turning the tables and killing me. Yes he was big and strong and I was going to give him every chance to put up a fight, but in the end between, my speed, skill and of course the dog, there was no way Max could win.

On the other hand getting caught was still a very real possibility. If the police found out what I had done my life would be over. First-degree murder, the fact that Max had spent years beating me would give the DA motive and prove it to be premeditated. My history would also come up. Years of counseling for rage issues, and a family history of mental illness would add to the case. They would evaluate me and eventually find out about the Voice. Prison or an asylum, one way it would be the end.

I felt doubt start to creep in as I wondered what would happen to Megan. Without me there to help her where would she go? She would be heartbroken over me, which could lead to her going even deeper into drugs. Would my meeting my fate lead to Megan sealing hers? As I walked back upstairs to my place the Voice spoke;

"We won't get caught Mark, I've told you that."

"But if we do Megan will get worse." I said aloud.

"Listen to me Mark." The Voice said. "It's not our destiny to fail. We will destroy Max, then I promised you that I will help our sister. After that we will have everything we want in life."

"You're sure?"

"Of course I am. You and I are going to have one hell of a life together Mark, trust me." It paused and added; "You do trust me don't you?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Good, I'm your friend Mark; I've helped us for years and will always do so. Max is the one thing I'll ask of you. After this it'll be anything you want."

"I want my sister to be okay."

"Then she will be."

I hesitated and said softly;

"Someday I want to be with her. I want it to be with Megan the way it was with Krissy."

"That may not happen Mark, people won't understand." The Voice sighed. "Megan knows that too Mark ,that's why she backed off from us. She's giving us the chance to succeed in life."

"But..." I started.

"Mark we have the rest of our lives to figure that out. Today is only about one thing."

"Lex Talionis." I whispered.

"Amen. Now let's get ready Mark."

I sighed and went and took a shower after which, at the urging of the Voice, I shaved off my beard. As I stared into the mirror, carefully using the straight edge razor under my chin, the Voice explained why;

"We want him to recognize us today Mark, it will be more fun to see the look on his fat face when he finds out who we are than if we have to tell him."

I nodded in agreement, Max would definitely need to know who was killing him and why. I smiled at the irony, Max was going to be killed by the monster he created. I went into my bedroom and, after dressing in a pair of black jeans and a black tank top, sat on the bed and put on the steel tipped motorcycle boots. Grabbing my candles and incense from the bureau I left the bedroom and closed the door behind me.

I walked around the apartment and, after closing the two living room windows, also shut the bathroom door. Walking around the living room I placed a couple of the incense burners on the kitchen counter as well as a few of the candles. After lighting the candles and incense I grabbed the silver platter that I had bought yesterday and, after placing it on the coffee table, sat down in the small armchair and, reaching into the drawer underneath the table and removing the packet of cocaine and a razor blade from it, placed them both on the platter.

Getting up I walked over to the matching chair on the other side of the table and, after sitting back in it with my legs crossed, suddenly threw a snap kick with my left leg. I frowned at where my foot ended up and, after getting up, slid the chair a few inches closer to the table.Getting up I walked over to the front door and, turning, looked at the layout of the apartment.

I would keep the fight in the living room. The room was decent size, about fifteen by fifteen, with all the furniture in a square in the middle. In addition to the arm chairs and coffee table, there was a couch that ran along the left of the chairs and my small desk with the old matching wooden chair in front of it. I took a deep breath, inhaling the pungent odor of the nightshade incense and noticed that the air in the apartment, which had been hot to start with, was rapidly becoming oppressive.

I had started towards the center of the room when the phone rang. I glanced at the phone, as I picked it up and saw that it was nine.

"One more hour."

"Yeah?" I answered.

"Hey kid it's Max, listen about today..."

"Don't you dare cancel!!" The Voice screamed in my head.

"You're not going to stiff me, are you Max?"

"Hell no," Max said quickly. "Just wanted to make sure it was all good on your end."

"I always keep my word Max." I said calmly. "Come at ten like I said and we'll do some biz okay?"

"Yeah you got a bell?"

"Just beep Max and I'll come down."

"Gotcha, see ya kid." Max said and hung up.

I rubbed the side of my head where the metal plate was just over my temple. Every time the Voice screamed it hurt there. Walking away from the phone I sat down cross legged on floor and, after reciting the Ave Satanna, began to breathe deeply and consider what was going to happen today. The first thing I considered was how exactly I was going to get away with this. What I had decided was that the simplest solution was the best one.

Three years of criminal law had taught me that the only way criminals got caught was because either they wanted to, for attention or because of some form of guilt, or more commonly that they were fucking stupid. The average perpetrator was caught by over complicating things and, more importantly, being so worried about being caught that he would bring it on himself. As a disciple of Levay I fully understood the law of attraction and knew that worry would bring about ruin. Keeping that in mind I would be supremely confident in believing that I would walk away from this unscathed.

My plan was simple. After killing Max in my apartment I would wait awhile then, taking his keys, drive his old pickup truck into Connecticut to an old campground in the woods. Knowing Max drove a 1977 Ford F-150 I had bought a manual at the parts store and knew the VIN number was located in three places. I would file all the numbers off then, after cutting the plates into pieces with tin shears, would chuck the pieces along different parts of the woods while I hiked the ten miles from the camp ground to the city, where I would catch a bus back down to Rhode Island.

Once I got back home I would back my car all the way up to the side door which, because it used to be a loading dock, had no sidewalk. I would wrap Max's fat ass in a tarp and, at three am, drag his dead ass down the stairs and quickly throw him in the trunk. It would take all of two minutes and I doubt anyone would be driving by. Now, unlike the panic stricken moron's you see in the movies, I wouldn't get on the road at three where I would attract attention, no, I would get up at eight am and drive up to Route 7 with the rest of the morning rush.

There was an old abandoned mill up there where a lot of metal heads and dumb ass cult posers would go at night to drink and fuck. The mill was old as hell and had several cisterns in the basement. I would drag Max down there and throw him in one of the ones that still had a portion of the seal on it. After throwing as much debris as I could lift down on top of him I would simply leave and drive back home. Max had a girlfriend, but I was pretty sure he wasn't going to tell her he was going to go buy coke, and when she reported his dumbass missing no one would really know where to look.

To make it look good I would stop in the Green Bar in a couple of days and pretend to be looking for him. As I thought on it, what would make it even easier is if the girlfriend, whom I'm sure Max was beating along with her kids, never reported him gone. I smiled; simplicity in itself. On that note I peered into my mind to the attic and, envisioning myself there, walked down to the dog's room and, after removing the wooden brace from outside the door, and entered the room.

Once again, as I stood there, I heard the padding of footsteps and a pair of red eyes appeared in the corner. This time I stood my ground as the eyes approached me. Standing there my eyes became accustomed to the darkness and, for the first time since I created it five years ago, I came face to face with the dog. The dog was enormous, its head was level with my stomach and its large black coated frame rippled with muscle as it slowly walked a circle around me. As it had before, it growled deep in its throat and I felt the room vibrate. I put my hand out and a moment later felt the dog nudge it with its wet nose.

"Good boy." I whispered.

The dog sat down on its haunches and regarded me calmly as I slowly got onto my knees bringing my eyes level with its own.

"Today is your day boy." I said reaching out and scratching it behind the ears. "But not until I call you, got it?"

The dog growled again and this time its lips peeled back to show two inch fangs. As the dog growled I put my hand on its chest and a thrill went through me as I felt the vibration run through my hand. The dog was the embodiment of a lifetime of hate and pain. The dog was powerful and it was more than ready to tear into the two legged animal that had given it its birth. As I rose to my feet and walked towards the door I was aware of the dog following me. When I reached the doorway and turned I saw that it had sat down right at the edge of the room. After scratching its head one more time I gently closed the door in front of it.

I was getting ready to exit the attic when I suddenly became aware of a shadow to my left and spun around quickly. I didn't see anything but my hair was standing on end. What the hell was that I wondered?

"That's me."

I looked around again and once again saw a shadowy figure drift across my line of sight. The figure was just that; a black featureless shadow. I began to feel a twinge of nerves, the Voice had been around since I was ten and I had never seen it before.

"We've never been this close Mark." It said quietly. "Now are you ready to get closer?"

"Yes."

As I spoke I felt that familiar icy calm come over me, and that strange burning feeling in my eyes. Still sitting and breathing deeply, I suddenly opened my eyes at the sound of a distant thumping. I listened for a moment and realized it was the beating of my heart. I looked around and everything seemed to jump out at me, as if I were seeing it more clearly. I stared at the painting of Cerberus my sister had done and swore I could see the individual brush strokes in the paint. Shifting my gaze to the sound of a loud click I realized I was hearing the ticking of the second hand on the clock in the kitchen.

Standing up I walked over the bathroom door and, opening it, looked at my reflection in the full length mirror on the back door. My eyes were as black as I had ever seen them and, staring at my tattooed arms, I could see the fine hairs of my arms through the ink.

"Watch this." The Voice said. As it spoke I felt the feeling in my eyes fade and it whispered; "Without."

Knowing what it wanted I stepped back and exploded into a series of lightning quick punches and combinations. My hands were moving so fast they were blurring through the air, one punch indistinguishable from the next. In the five years I had taken Karate I'd had two teachers tell me I had the fastest hands they had ever seen.

"Now with."

As I felt the burning come back I once again went into a flurry of punches and gasped out loud as, although I knew I was moving just as fast, it seemed as if I was moving in slow motion; my hands going so slow I was able to discern the network of small scars that covered most of my knuckles.