Girl Next Door Ch. 04

First off, let me admit that my theory is a little shaky, but keep in mind, I got a D in Biology and really only passed because of a lot of sucking up to a new teacher who thought I was cute. Anyway, I remembered something we had read about viruses and how they sometimes mutate when any kind of cure or new situation develops that might restrain it from spreading or growing. If this... infection... I had was anything at all like that, or perhaps even a new chip off the evolutionary block, perhaps my strain was stronger than that of Maddy and her mother.

I remembered Sarah telling me that she had found the Taskers' nameless neighbors, the ones we had inferred had passed the virus/demon/fill-in-the-blank-with-your-own-fucking-guess to them, mummified in the basement. Had the Taskers done that?

"Why don't we go into the bedroom and get a little more comfortable?" Maddy suggested and held out her hand. Ever the loyal zombie, I took it and allowed myself to be led down the hallway and towards Maddy's room. My eyes did not leave her ample bottom as it swayed in the cheeks-hugging, jade dress.

The alluring siren and I slipped into her room where her mother waited for us both. Mrs. Tasker sat up from her position in Maddy's bed and allowed the sheets to fall, revealing her breasts. She must have sent Maddy to collect me when they heard the door open; they had both been waiting for my arrival. My heart sped; it felt like it had leap-frogged its way into my throat. The thought of a threesome with mother and daughter about set my pants on fire.

"Oh, good," Mrs. Tasker said in a coy tone, "you've brought dinner."

The two of them stripped me in seconds. It was like being caught in a whirlwind of hands: grabbing, groping, unbuttoning, unzipping; and then I was nude and vulnerable, my erection eagerly pointing towards the North Star. The warnings of Madam G were no longer of any consequence.

Then the Tasker women pushed me to the bed, and they attacked me like buzzards on a fresh carcass. Between the two of them, I wasn't sure if I had any chance of survival, but in the heat of the moment, their tongues lashing out and wetting my throbbing, fleshy pole, I did not care.

I briefly thought of Sarah... Daddy's girl... and the sound of her being taken by the parasite that wore her father's body. But then she was gone, and all I knew was Maddy and her mother fighting for dominion over my body.

Maddy gripped my wrists and held them down, her breasts swaying in my face, and she peered down at me, her face upside-down from my position. I met her gaze and held it, the challenge in my eyes daring her to do her worst. She wore a slight grin, but it faltered as her confidence wavered, ever so slightly. She had seen something in my expression that she didn't like. But then her hesitation passed, and her grin spread from ear-to-ear.

"Enjoy it while you can," she said in a husky whisper.

"I will," I grunted as Mrs. Tasker speared herself with my cock. I cried out, an intense blast of pleasure coursing through my entire body. My vision went black, but when it returned, hazy dots receding from my eyes, I caught Maddy's attention once again and met her smile with one of my own. I would not let her have the pleasure of seeing me succumb.

Maddy snarled in response and demanded, "Harder, Mother, harder!"

Mrs. Tasker thrashed on top of me, grinding, her abs flexing with effort. Sweat covered every square inch of her, and under any other circumstances, it would have been an enviable sight. But this was no lust-filled fuck; it was a war between two opposing sexual energies, two demons, and I was determined to win.

I gnashed my teeth, intent on matching Mrs. Taskers' enthusiasm. I could feel the culmination of our power ebbing and flowing; the entire room seemed heavy with mounting potential energy. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I thrust up and down, and Mrs. Tasker ground upon me, swiveling and bouncing and moaning, her face set in a determined but frustrated grimace.

"C'mon, fuck him!" Maddy shrieked above me. The smile had permanently been wiped from her pixie face. My hand crept to base of Mrs. Taskers' body, and I began to thumb at her clitoris. She responded with a shivering sigh.

The pace could not be maintained, I thought, but- like the old Energizer bunny commercials- Mrs. Tasker had reserves of energy that kept her going and going and going. My abs began to ache with exertion. My breaths came in haggard, raspy gasps. I could feel something, something essential, draining out of me; I wondered if this was what Stephanie had known the last few moments of her life.

Still, I met Maddy's mother's fuck and used my hands on her, hoping for some desperate chance of survival. All of it seemed to be doing no good. Finally, I looked up into Maddy's eyes; they blazed with victory. She glanced away to check on her mother's progress.

"Mother?" Maddy said, her voice edgy with concern. Urged to confidence by the tone of her voice, I pushed hard and deep into Mrs. Tasker with one, last urgent thrust.

"GAAAAAAH!" was Mrs. Taskers' response. A wet splash of feminine orgasm gushed against my crotch and abdomen. And as she continued to fuck me, latched on like a suckerfish, I saw the color rushing out of her; her eyes sucking back into her sockets; her skin withering up and cracking; her hair fading from amber to grey to white; and I knew that I had won.

"No!" Maddy cried, and she leapt away from me, terror leaking from the corner of her eyes in fat, liquid drops. Her nude, perfect body shivered in the corner of her bedroom, looking not so much of a soul-sucking demon as a frightened child.

The thing that used to be Mrs. Tasker slid off of me with a crackling rustle and disappeared off the side of the bed. I could feel her stolen essence nourishing my body, filling me with energy. I understood the appeal of vampires to all those fucking Emo-losers at school now; this was their fantasy, to become powerful by not just defeating your enemy but devouring them. I sat up in the bed, and for good measure, sank my foot through the dead Mrs. Taskers' mummified head. It was like stepping on paper mache.

I turned and placed my attention directly on the quivering nymph I called Maddy Tasker.

"No," she whispered. I nodded.

"Yes."

At first I thought that she was urinating on herself, but as I approached, I realized that the fluid leaking from her was not urine but syrupy, thickening female lubricant. Maddy was so wet, it was pouring down her legs in waves. Meanwhile, my own stomach glistened with the juices of her mother's final orgasm. I snickered. Although the poor thing had whispered her denial of my advances, she now fingered herself in anticipation of my inevitable entry.

"You've got something inside of you," I said, not sure why I was bothering to speak to the pathetic, loathsome creature in front of me, "and I am going to fuck it out."

She shook her head, red hair swishing from side-to-side, but her words betrayed her: "Oh, god... yes, please, yes."

I pointed my cock at her, and she squealed, a splash of female ejaculation flying from the manipulations of her fingers. I laughed; this was going to be fun. Only days ago, this girl was an innocent fantasy; now she was my quivering sex slave. The mere sight of me sent her into quaking orgasm. This was the culmination of everything the Taskers had put me through in the last week, and faced with the beautiful, cowering Madeline in front of me, I felt it all had been worth it. I stood over her, triumphant.

"Open your mouth," I ordered, and she complied. I gripped the sides of her head and slid my entire length down her throat. She gagged, gooey spit splattering my cock, but in the end, she managed. I moved in and out, slowly face-fucking her, enjoying the forced degradation. She stared up at me with wide, wanton eyes. Tears continued to flow down her cheeks, glistening like diamonds in the muted sunlight streaming from her bedroom windows. It was the most wonderful sight I have ever seen.

Then the bedroom door flung open; it crashed against the wall from the force of impact, sending a shelf from its perch above Maddy's dresser and clattering to the floor. Stuffed animals rained to the carpet. Revealed in this open doorway, Sarah Tasker stood, covered from head to toe with a layer of crimson blood.

"What are you doing?" she demanded to know.

I froze. The sight of her dripping red splotches on the white carpet shocked me back to sanity. I realized in that moment that I had been responsible for the deaths of two people, and that fact hit me like a sack of hammers swung into my head and gut. I had not been thinking clearly since I had zapped the strength and vitality of Stephanie and made it my own; I had been riding on the back of a superhuman, supernatural high. It had filled my brain with a hyperactive haze, blurring rational thought, and clouding any sense of conscience. But the ride was officially over.

When I looked down, I saw my cock still half inside Maddy's mouth, my erection bulging the side of her cheek. With some disappointment, I slid it out with a wet pop.

"They attacked me. They knew we were coming," I said. Sarah nodded, strings of her hair matted to her forehead with gore. I didn't ask what had happened, but I figured we wouldn't need the rope to tie her father. She held a blood-soaked butcher's knife in one hand. A weighty silence hung between us for a moment, two naked warriors considering the cost of their private war. Finally, Sarah broke it.

"Mom?" she said. I shook my head in the negative. I prayed that she did not ask for the particulars because I had a suspicion she would be less than impressed I had sucked the life-energy of her mother through my cock. Sarah sighed, a long and lonely sound. The sigh seemed to have a thousand meanings, more eloquent and yet sparse than anything she could have put to words.

"Tie her up," she said and motioned towards Maddy. Maddy had gone still and silent like a brain-dead mental patient. She stepped out in the hall, then returned a moment later with a spool of rope in hand. She tossed it to me. I tried not to notice the smears of blood on it.

I set about my work quickly; Maddy allowed herself to be moved and restrained without complaint. She only murmured random pleas quietly under her breath: please, don't stop, fuck, fuck. I tried not to listen, mentally urging my cock to soften before Sarah noticed my raging, purple-headed erection. I didn't want her to do to me whatever she had done to her father. She probably considered me to be just as dangerous.

When I finished, Sarah said, "Just one last thing."

I turned around to ask what it was just in time to see the butt of the butcher's knife coming to land squarely between my eyes. Then I only saw blackness.

***

When I came to, I found myself tied up in my own basement. The cement floor was hard and cold under my face like a slab of tombstone. I sat up, shook the clouds out of my brain, and attempted to get my bearings. I quickly discovered that I was not alone.

Maddy was knotted up and gagged on the other side of the room, and my parents were in a similar predicament as well. The bodies of Stephanie and Mrs. Tasker were stacked in a dark, cobwebbed corner behind a shelf of Dad's wines. The only reason I knew they were there was because I could see the red-and-yellow of Stephanie's cheerleading outfit from between the wine bottles. As for Mr. Tasker, he was nowhere to be found.

I understood Sarah's strategy at once; she had us tied up in the basement in the hopes of starving out our demons. This was the flimsy plan that she and I had come up with on our drive home from Madam G's shop. At least she had bothered to dress me. I was in a t-shirt and shorts underneath the coils of knotted rope.

Unlike Maddy, Sarah had not gagged me. I saw that my father was but not my mother. I caught her attention and asked, "Where is she?"

Mom said in a shivering voice, "Upstairs, somewhere. Matt, what is going on?"

I licked my dry, cracked lips, deciding the best way to respond. I went the conservative route.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Something to do with the Taskers. They're... disturbed."

My mother did not reply. I knew she was probably remembering the night she and my father had spent with the Taskers. I remembered hearing the sound of her begging Mr. Tasker to shoot his load on her. I bet she had similar thoughts on her mind. I wondered how much of this situation that she had Dad understood; probably more than I realized unless they were in total denial.

The door at the top of the basement stairs opened, sending bright white light cascading down the basement stairs. This was followed by the figure of Sarah Tasker descending, her footsteps loud thuds in her heavy-duty boots. My mind raced. Now that she had seen the corpse of her mother, had she put things together? Was she going to shred me apart with a butcher knife the same way she had probably flayed her own father? I waited for her arrival with bated breath not with excitement but with mounting dread.

She wore jeans and a dark blue buttoned-up shirt, the shirt she had worn when we had first met. I remembered thinking that it made her look ready for hard labor. Her footsteps clamored towards me. My heart matched her approach with pulse-pounding throbs. She hovered over me and then knelt down.

"Sorry," she surprised me by saying, "but I have to be sure."

"Of?"

Instead of answering, she said, "What happened over there?"

I had always been a talented liar. I explained to her how Mrs. Tasker and Maddy had surprised me; how I had fought them off; how they had restrained me; and how they had fought over me to the point that Maddy had devoured her own mother. My story was not totally coherent and did not hold up to much deliberation, but neither did anything that had happened to me over the last few days. I could only hope my mixture of truth and fabrications could fool Sarah.

To my relief, she appeared to buy it. Sarah nodded. I could hardly believe my luck. Then she took out a knife, and my heart wanted to explode in my chest. I thought for a moment that she was going to cut me to bloody shreds despite my initial belief that she had swallowed my whale of a tale. When she used the knife to saw through my bonds, I hid a grateful gasp.

However, when I looked into her eyes, I realized that Sarah was not all there. Something was missing; her eyes were dead, expressionless, the eyes of someone already in the grave. When our gazes met, I knew that she had gone completely mad sometime after (or during) the murder of the thing that had been her father. It was that simple. It wasn't anything she had said or anything she had done; it was the look of her eyes. And I just knew.

"Take me upstairs," Sarah said.

Did she want to die? Did she want me to kill her? Did she want me to suck the life out of her and end the insanity, the madness that had stolen whatever remnants of Sarah Tasker that was left? I don't know, but in that instant, that is what I planned to do.

Some of my ex-girlfriends have called me an asshole. You may call me an asshole. But I propose to you: faced with the power of undeniable sex, the power to have anyone you wanted; would you give it up? It's easy to sit there and judge, but I have a feeling that you are just as weak, just as shallow, as me.

Sarah led me upstairs, and then I led her to the couch. Slow and silent, it was like the final march of a death sentence, but I think we'd have a whole lot more people on death row if their executions were anything like Sarah's was going to be.

Already, the crotch of her jeans had turned dark and wet with her moisture. Silently, I unbuttoned her shirt. She stared at me without seeing, looking through me as I caressed her breasts and bared them by removing her bra. She mechanically helped me slip off her jeans. She lay down, her gaze moving to the ceiling and staying there, peering at something that only she could see. Her actions made me think of a virginal sacrifice, the kind of ritual you now only see in the movies. Obedient and willing, the girls give themselves up indifferently to their barbaric gods, and Sarah would be given to the King Kong of cocks.

By the time I got to pulling off her underwear, they were soaked. I unzipped and pulled down my shorts, my erection already swollen and stiff with anticipation. I hesitate to describe it as hungry, but considering the demon inside of me, hungry is not a bad adjective. As if drawn by magnetic attraction, it zeroed in on Sarah's dripping slit and disappeared within it.

Entering her was divine. She was oily and tight, and I was a perfect fit, more so than the other women I had experienced. There was something otherworldly about our connection, two opposites balancing, a unification of ying-and-yang. For the first time, my mind swooned not with power or shock but with sheer pleasure.

I moved with a smooth, consistent rhythm. Sarah's hand found the nape of my neck and held me there, caressing the patch of skin between my hair and shoulders. We met each other, back-and-forth, like the motion of a boat upon a restless ocean. Her body was hard and soft in all the right places; her flat stomach making a sweet clapping sound as it met mine.

After a moment, I wondered where her other hand was. I peeked open my eyes to see Sarah reaching behind her head, pulling something from under the couch pillow behind her head. The object glinted in the lamplight glowing from the nearby end table. It was a butcher's knife.

I had not fooled her at all. Sarah Tasker was going to put an end to me as she had her father.

My arm came up just in time. She slashed, and a sharp, burning pain flashed through the flesh of my forearm. I cried out and kicked myself off the couch. My head smacked against the coffee table, and a glass coaster tottered and plopped to the floor. Seeing through a blur of dizzying stars, I snatched it up, and as Sarah rolled towards me, the butcher knife cutting through the air, I swung the coaster and caught her on the side of the face.

I heard her cheekbone crunch, and Sarah bounced backwards, losing balance, and she flopped off the other side of the couch. I stood up, readying to strike another blow, when a bang resounded through the room, a bullet ripped through the back of the couch and missed my head by inches. A sickening thought hit me: she'd stashed a fucking gun under the couch.

I turned and ran. Another bullet whizzed past me and exploded into a framed picture of my family, a fitting end to my story if there ever was one. Using the glass coaster as a discus, I tossed it towards the rising figure of the Sarah and bought myself a few precious seconds as she had to duck out of the way. With these earned seconds, I snatched the hanging keys to my parents SUV from their spot above the coat rack and tore into the garage, tearing open the door and slamming it shut behind me.

I thanked God that my parents had left the garage doors open, but I had a growing feeling that it wasn't God on my side. It was something else, something infinitely darker. In moments, I was behind the wheel, starting the ignition, and burning rubber down the driveway as Sarah Tasker appeared in the door and leapt out after me.

She didn't fire again. I suppose she was afraid of alerting the entire neighborhood and possibly the county. She may have already done so, but I didn't stay to see if anyone had called the police.

As Sarah and my home receded in the rearview mirror and finally disappeared from view, I could not hide my eager smile. Suddenly, wonderfully, the entire world was open to me.

***

And that, dear friend, is the beginning of my story. I always wondered what it would be like to be the villain, but being the good boy I was, I never expected to find this hypothetical dream a reality.