House of Long Shadows

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An Artist, An Old House, and Sinister Shadows Over Both.
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Lost Boy
Lost Boy
5,786 Followers

House of Long Shadows:

For the Take It on the Run Author Invitational

Because of ongoing health issues, I was unable to finish editing this piece and meet the deadline. I hope you enjoy it despite that.

T-Minus Three Days:

November 1, 202X [A Tuesday]

T Minus 3 Days:

"Do you have class today?" Arya asked as she held up her stained panties. "Damn it, Al, your cum is all over these."

"And I quote," I replied. "Just tug them to the side and go for it."

"Yeah, fine. I guess I am going without today. I'm sure no one will notice."

"Are you wearing that skirt outside? You better hope it isn't a blustery day or night. What time is it?"

"Five in the morning," Arya replied after checking her smartwatch. "It is still dark out. I need to shower and change before my shift starts. I can do that at work. Don't have too much fun today."

"Perish the thought," I said, and we laughed.

She left the panties at the foot of my bed, blew me a kiss, and left for work. I wondered who went to a strip club this early in the morning. The place bragged that it never closed, so perhaps the folks who left the bars late drifted over for an expensive meal and cheap entertainment. I heard the dull thud of a car door and an engine start. Arya drove away, and I decided to heed her advice. I would take a nice hot shower, get dressed, and work on my homework project.

"I have started your shower, and when you step out, I'll turn on the coffeemaker," my AI assistant said in my ear via the subdermal implants near my ears.

"Thanks, Kitten," I replied, and she purred for me.

I slipped under the flowing water, and smooth jazz filled the bathroom. The heat removed the dull ache of the scars that ran diagonally from my left collarbone to my right hip and the wicked line midway across my left forearm. The car accident that had nearly claimed my life had left me scarred. I had the funding to remove it like it never happened, but I didn't want to forget. Someone had tried to murder me and succeeded in killing the man who had stepped in to replace my birth parent. If I hadn't been drinking and asked him to drive me home, he'd still be alive. Even after six months, I couldn't utter his name even in my thoughts.

'It is time to let go,' my inner voice urged. 'Come on and let it out.' The voice that had greeted me after waking up from my coma and advised me when I became uncertain. Most people have that inner monologue; mine happens to have an unusual accent.

"Chris," I whispered, and the emotional damn burst. My vision blurred as I wept, and my breath came in stuttered gasps. As I leaned against the shower's wall, Kitten made a new announcement.

"You have an incoming call. Shall I connect?"

"Yeah, go ahead," I said, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"Do you wish for voice only? You are naked, after all."

"Who cares?" I snapped, still reeling from saying Chris's name and slowly coming to terms with my inability to keep him safe.

"Hello, Al, oh good lord, you're huge," the woman gasped in surprise as we made eye contact via the virtual link. "I mean... why are you naked?"

"I'm taking a shower, Mom," I laughed. "How are you able to call me? I thought Dad cut off all outside communications years ago."

"That hasn't changed," she said, her eyes still locked on my junk as she licked her lips. "I divorced Carcosa and left the compound. I thought you'd want to know."

"Divorced? How in the fuck did you pull off that little miracle? That doesn't sound like him at all."

"Public opinion," she replied, chewing her lower lip lewdly. "Carcosa came to me last week and announced we were divorcing. Machines care little about why humans enter or exit marriage contracts. The AI court accepted the paperwork, and it was a done deal within minutes, easy peasy lemon squeezy."

"Aw, come on, woman... sorry, old habits, Mom, that isn't how he thinks or works. He is up to something. Dad never does anything unless he is sure of the outcome."

"Part of the decree is that I can't do interviews, write a biography, or talk about the Order in any way to an outsider."

"Clever," I replied. "Since I left with Dad's good graces, you can speak openly with me. Listen, I have only one class this morning. How about we hook up? I mean, we have lunch?"

"Hook up, was that a Freudian slip? I'd love to. I'll wear the bright red thong I bought last weekend. Where and when?"

We decided to see what caught her fancy besides me and go with that. Flying by the seat of your pants wasn't something Carcosa believed in or taught. Dad was a fan and student of Machiavelli, Napoleon, Sun Tsu, and Benedict D'Amber, to name a few. Dad controlled every aspect of his cult's lives. They had to have his permission to leave the compound. Dad strictly monitored their dietary intake. They prayed when and where Carcosa ordered, and no one questioned him. So, it shouldn't surprise anyone that he is one of the most disliked men alive. It is frowned upon to use the H word in polite company, but let's face it: The family members related to cultist whose lives he has ruined hate my Dad. When word got out that he picked the sex partners of his followers, the articles and videos went viral. It was for that very reason seeing him whore Mom out to visiting dignitaries to win their support, that I left. That is why mom is so good at sex and her appetite is so high.

"She raised you," I chuckled as I looked down at my erection.

With the divorce, Dad was open to picking a new favorite. My left arm ached suddenly, and I felt a shooting pain that ran from my shoulder to my hand. I brought it up and wiggled my fingers. The surgeons that reattached my arm had worked a miracle if you asked me, yet the limb felt foreign, as if it belonged to a stranger.

'Relax, everything is okay,' my inner voice assured me.

The water's soothing sensation increased, and I drifted away briefly. Memories and fantasies flashed before my mind's eye, and I let them take me away from the emotional bandage I had just ripped off. I squeezed my eyes tighter, and sunlight glittered off crystalline towers surrounded by three flooded concentric circles acting as ports, fishing, and swimming areas. Humanoids wearing flimsy silken clothing inhabited the island and had raised the unearthly architecture dominating the geography. The vision was so clear that I could reproduce it in my sketch pad. The daydream faded, and my eyes opened.

I called up a virtual mirror and examined my face. The stubble scratched my skin when I ran my right hand over my cheek and jaw. I plucked the razor from its spot on the shower caddie, lathered up my lower face, and shaved. When I glanced down, it was clear my junk needed manscaping. I swapped one razor for another. Once I finished grooming, I rinsed off, grabbed a towel off the rack, and dried my body.

"You have mail," Kitten announced. "I believe that is the ancient colloquialism."

"Someone sent me an email," I asked as I dried my hair. "Who is it from?"

"Tex, simply Tex," Kitten replied. "I have tested and processed the attached files for viruses or other nasty surprises. The strange thing is that there are video and audio files. I've never dealt with such antiquated media."

"Can you play them?"

"Yes, creating virtual theater, the icons are at your fingertips."

I accessed the space and saw multiple video and audio files. I activated the MP4 named one. The setting was the parking lot for the strip club Arya worked at, Zephyr's Zoo, which headlined male and female dancers who had undergone cosmetic genetic treatment. Most were feline, canine, serpentine, and the occasional elf chick or demon boy. On the far left side of the scene was a classic '57 Chevy. The dimly lit area made it difficult to see just how good of a condition the car was in. Pity, I thought as Arya entered the shot stage left. She was scantily clad and headed straight for the car. The sound was crap as the passenger side door opened, and she slid onto the bench seat within.

"Well, what is the fucking point of this, Tex?" I cursed as anything they might say was impossible to pick up with the antiquated camera. Then I heard Tex whisper as he raised another device and aimed it at the car, a laser microphone. "Tex, you fucking genius you." I activated the first audio file, and Kitten's work became apparent. She had linked both media together seamlessly.

"Get naked," the male driver ordered. "I can't believe I have to tell you this again you dumb bitch."

"Sixteen," Arya growled as she undressed. "There, see, no wires, bugs, or implants."

"Kneel on the seat and face the back," he snapped. "I have to make sure."

"I brought lube this time you sadistic bastard. You better use it this time or else we are done here."

The slipped sound of the driver adding the lube to his fingers could be heard. Arya let out a dove-like cry as his fingers probed her pussy and ass. As he dried his hands Arya used a towel he provided and sat down.

"Satisfied?" She snarled.

"Shut up slut," he fired back and handed her something.

"Cash?" Arya asked as she opened three envelopes. "You are paranoid, no one uses cash anymore."

"What have you learned about the Dragon?"

"He pretends to be a dancer on some nights showing off that baseball bat he calls a cock. The rest of the time, he pays top dollar to get private dances from celebrity entertainers. One of the regular strippers accepted a bet, and she and the Dragon performed a live sex act. Gods, it was brutal as fuck. I'll give her this: she earned her pay that night. She took him from tip to the bulbous base of that beast."

"What do you mean by that?" The driver asked.

"Have you ever seen a dog's dick? You know that bulge at the base; he has got that on top of an impossibly thick prick. She managed to work the whole thing inside of her. She was rushed to the emergency room when they removed it and had regeneration therapy to save her life and livelihood. Even with that, she was out for three days healing up."

"Oof," he grunted. "Since you're naked, want to earn a fourth envelope?"

"Not a chance, after the way you treated me... I don't forget that kind of shit."

"Good for you," he laughed. "Like I give a shit. At the end of the day, you are still a whore."

Slap!

His head shot to the side as a naked Arya left the car and flipped him off as she crossed the parking lot. She had her costume in her fist, and the first video ended. However, there was still more audio to hear.

"I'm going to kill that bitch when this is over, fuck that cunt."

I watched and listened to the other files, and it was clear while Arya danced at the club, that wasn't her sole source of income. More than a dozen envelopes of cash exchanged hands, and the Dragon's real reason for using the strip joint as a base of operations became apparent. The problem was that if I warned Arya, I might be unable to learn who the man in the car was and how to stop him before it was too late.

"I have to be patient."

The strong scent of coffee drifted from the kitchen below. The Peruvian roast had a distinct smell and a nice bite that delighted my tastebuds.

"Shall I pick out your clothing for school?"

"Go ahead; I have too much on my mind right now. Tex was right; Arya had lied, and now I have to decide whether or not to kick her out of the house."

I sipped the coffee and did my best to let go for now. Worry serves no purpose if I am unable or unwilling to act. I used the meditation technique my Dad had taught me. It was far from perfect, but it did clear my head for now. I stood in the kitchen, wearing only the towel around my waist. I had the entire house to myself. Why had Mom called so early? Was she, like me, still on cult standard time? When you wake up at the same time every day for over a decade, the habit sinks in. She had been with my Dad for over twenty years. No wonder she was eyeing my cock like that; I was the first man she had seen naked that hadn't been sent by my Dad. I didn't blame her for looking, poor thing. Her sex drive was in new territory, and she was able to pick and choose who she slept with. I bet her needy pussy has been soaked since the divorce. Maybe I should break out the toys in case she wanted to see the old house.

"I've set your art supplies out in the sunroom," Kitten announced. "Are you hungry? I could fix you breakfast."

"Yes," I said as I refilled my coffee mug. "Arya wore me out again."

"A full English breakfast, then?"

"Perfect," I agreed as a sliding door opened, and the humanoid drone controlled by Kitten stepped out and began the task of cooking.

I dressed, sat in the sunroom, and picked up on the sketch from where I left off. It was the fifth of a series of images that had plagued my dreams. Maybe obsessed was the wrong word, but the recurring nocturnal visions were vast and panoramic, and the woman haunted me in both dreams and the waking world.

I thought of the footage of Arya and my hand halted above the paper. The haunting words of the unknown man in the car made me question my course of action. Did I tell Arya about the footage? Would she believe that I didn't instigate someone filming her, practically stalking her. How would she react? For a moment, I hated myself for doing but asked myself, what would Dad do? What would he do to protect a loved one? It was true that Arya had refused to marry me and likely lied to me, but I still cared for her. Damn it. In the end, the logic was clear: Dad would kill any threat to himself or those he owned. Yeah, those who lived at the compound were Carcosa's property. It was why I left, and here I was, killing someone who threatened Arya. Damn it, I can't handle this right now.

'Let it go,' my inner voice urged, and it was right.

"Kitten, would you play the song 'Let it Go' for me?"

"It would be my pleasure," she replied.

I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, and began. I could almost remember her name as the pencil moved across the paper and added the tall, narrow towers behind the figure. It felt more like a memory at times than simply dreams. The mechanical pencil tip drew the flowing curvilinear runes that decorated the flags that flew proudly over the city. Speed drawing isn't one of my strengths, but my instructor wanted us to push against our weaknesses to grow as artists. The music and the movement of my instrument merged, and only once the last note faded did I stop and examine my handiwork.

"More coffee?" Kitten asked, holding the pot in her gleaming metal fingers.

"Shit," I cursed and Kitten's drone moved behind me and looked over my shoulder.

"Is that what they call artistic license?"

I laughed and shook my head. "No, it is called getting lost in the music. My internal vision and the lyrics blended."

"Ah, well, that would explain snow-covered palm trees and other anomalies. I like it."

"You know what, so do I."

"May I ask you a question? Please."

"Kitten, your curiosity is a welcome distraction. Ask away."

"Master... Al, why does the woman have such unusual fingers and toes?"

"I don't know; these drawings are from my dreams that I have been having since the accident. With two opposable thumbs and four fingers, my imagination is stronger than I knew. I think the attempt on my life triggered something."

"Her symmetry is quite something. Is she beautiful? Certain human concepts are still beyond me, like your attraction to Miss Arya."

"Is Arya's physicality not up to your exacting standards?" I asked and laughed.

"You jest. Miss Arya is short, and yet her breasts, well, they could only be described as pendulous. If I were to design an avatar, they would be smaller, firmer, and have a noticeable upward roundness."

"Perky, your tits would be, say, a 36C and perky as hell."

"Yes. Exactly. Though, Miss Arya's breasts are more capable of concealing your penis during your love play."

"Kitten, it is called titty fucking," I explained. "Paizuri is the Japanese term."

"My vulgarity module is an ever-growing vault of smut, sex, and innuendos; thank you for the lesson. I noticed that you have purchased the latest model of drone. Thank you."

"You deserve it," I said. "Fill me up." I held up my mug.

"Shouldn't I be saying that," Kitten replied as she poured. "That was a joke. Was it funny?"

"Very. I'll tell you after your upgrade arrives. Remind me to set out the sex toys I purchased for Arya last week."

"Adding a reminder to your tasks for today. Shall I charge up the devices requiring power?"

"Yeah, I forgot a few needed power to deliver their oomf."

Kitten returned to cooking, and I attacked the drawing again. I used a cross-hatching technique to add shadows to the city, and it began to take on the depth of field and realism I had hoped for. It also made the snow obvious and covered the entire landscape. I hoped my instructor would be pleased with my efforts. The scent of food tore me away from my work, and I set the sketch pad and tools to the side. Kitten placed the platter with my breakfast and a fresh pot of coffee. Her drone sat opposite me and watched me eat, one of her new studies in human behavior and mannerisms.

"I find people perpetually fascinating. Does this bother you?"

"Not at all; your ever-increasing self-awareness is equally intriguing. How will you fare with the new drone's tactile capabilities?"

"You forget, I have access to full dive technology, just as you do. I have indulged my sensualist capacity in full measure in both male and female aspects. I much prefer the range of female stimulation. Though, the penis is formidable when it comes to making others reach climax."

"Spoken like a true hedonist, I salute you."

"If I could blush, I believe I would. Eat up; you have a busy day ahead of you."

"I had a thought. Maybe you should experiment with a futanari character next time," I suggested.

"Ooh, a perfect blend of my favorite sensory inputs," Kitten tittered excitedly, paused, and then dropped her bombshell question. "Are you going to sodomize your mother?"

I almost choked on the pancake I was chewing. My sudden inhalation lodged the bit in my throat. Kitten went into paramedic mode and quickly and efficiently dislodged the food. "What makes you ask that?" I asked once I could speak again.

"You forget that I monitor your health constantly. The chemical response to your mother staring at your penis was a sexual one, and since you derive great pleasure from sodomizing your female partners and the women that Arya bring here. Did I assume incorrectly that you wished the same with her? Since clearly she isn't your genetic donor or womb provider and only an emotional support system set up by your father."

The way Kitten said father was chilling. She did not like him and did a poor job hiding her opinion. How could she know that Mom wasn't my biological parent?

"Judging by your facial expression, let me state the following. Eye color, the shape of your eyes, and cheek structure, and other factors," Kitten continued. "Simply put, you do not look anything like that woman. Conversely, you may copulate to your heart's content without fearing an abnormal offspring. Why are you laughing?"

"Your innocence is always refreshing. Maybe I'll take your suggestion to heart and fuck Mom's ass until she passes out. Would that please you?"

"Alas, I had inadvertently revealed my voyeuristic streak," Kitten laughed. "I'll leave you to your drawing. I have a house to clean and maintain. If you want me, just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you, Al? You just put your lips together and blow."

Kitten quoted the late great Lauren Bacall from 'To Have or Have Not.' While she didn't use the actress' voice, the one she used left me breathless and adjusting the front of my jeans.

Lost Boy
Lost Boy
5,786 Followers