I'm not a simple man, though I've been called that, and endless other names throughout my life. Children have always run away crying for their parents when I approach. I've even been hit with umbrellas and handbags by some of the mothers. I guess they're just frightened of my appearance, even though Mum always said I was 'special' when I'd asked her if I was ugly.

It took me years to accept that I was different to the other kids. They all had two eyes, two arms, two legs. Me on the other hand, had fingers and toes attached to stumps which made it difficult to walk at times, and one eye a bit lower set than the other. I couldn't ride a bike, or run; I'd always be sitting and watching the kids play from my special spot in the bushes. The other kids didn't want me to play with them anyway, so I'd spend my time with my little insect friends. We had some good times. They didn't normally live very long, so I was always making new friends. I had a spider friend once. He tried to bite me when I took two of his legs off. I guess he didn't like that very much, but it was funny to see him running around in circles the way he did. I don't like when I get hurt, so I had to teach my spider friend a lesson for trying to hurt me. I was going to smack him, but I knew he'd try to bite me again. I was only going to scare him, so he'd learn, but the squishing noise that came from under that rock told me that he'd never try to hurt me ever again.

Thankfully, as I grew older, my stumps grew too. Sure they didn't quite look like other people's arms and legs, but at least I could wear normal clothes. The lump on my shoulder got in the way most of the time, so Mum started cutting a hole in the right shoulder of all my tops. In Winter she'd buy me large sized sweaters so I wouldn't get too cold having a hole in my shirt.

Mum was a good woman. Even after my father died, she never left my side. I never told her why I hid in my closet the morning Dad died. She wouldn't have understood, and I hated when she got angry. I knew Dad liked to shave after his bath, and I knew he was running late. That's why I helped him. He didn't appreciate my help though, he just kept yelling 'No!' before I put the electric razor in the tub. I didn't like when he got angry either, but he didn't stay that way for long. He went really quiet when the razor went into the water. It made a big splash. I still remember the bubbles flying up into the air. I would have stayed to play with them, but Mum was running up the hall so I went to my closet instead.

I can't remember how long I stayed in the cupboard, but I remember coming out when I heard Mum calling my name. She said we were going for a little drive. Mum wouldn't tell me where we were going, she just said it would be a surprise. We never went outside anymore. Not since I'd grown too big to be seen wearing a diaper, so I was really excited. When we got to the woods, she turned off the engine and told me to go and play for a while.

The woods was such a pretty place. I ran straight to a big orange butterfly that was fluttering its pretty wings as it flew. Butterflies had always been my favorite friends. I loved the way their little legs would tickle my fingers as I held onto their wings. They're messy things though. That day, I got so angry. I'd only been playing with the butterfly for a short while, when I pulled one of his wings off and he got his goo all over my fingers. I think Mum got angry with the butterfly for doing that too, because she tried to shoot him. She missed him and hit me instead, which got me even madder. I tossed that butterfly and looked at the blood coming from my hand. I don't like when I get hurt.

Mum had this strange look on her face when I'd started to chase her. I only wanted to teach her a lesson for hurting me, but I don't think she understood. She ran so fast, it took me a while before I finally caught her. It was fun playing with Mum like that. When I did catch her, I pinned her down. She started slapping me, which hurt, so she really needed a good lesson. I picked her up by the shoulders and banged her head up and down on the ground. I kept telling her that I didn't like things hurting me and that she shouldn't do it again. When I got her blood on me I got really mad. I picked Mum up from the ground and threw her in the car. I think that's when her neck snapped. Now that I recall, her head did go on a funny angle when it hit the side of the car's roof. Her arms were all floppy, so I had to get some rope from the trunk and tie them on the steering wheel. Because her head was all lop-sided, I had to put some around her neck too and tied it to the back of the car seat.

It took me hours to push the car back home. Thankfully, it was dark when I untied Mum and carried her inside the house. I don't think the neighbors would have said much if they'd seen me carry Mum. They were used to seeing her staggering around, so if anybody had asked, I would have just told them she was drunk. Dad once told me that she started drinking when I was born, which I'd thought was strange. I never asked him why. I was tired from pushing the car, so I just left Mum on the kitchen floor so she wouldn't bloody the carpet, and went to bed.

In the morning, I picked her up and sat her at the kitchen table. The back of her head was pretty messy, so I took out the roll of cling wrap and wrapped it around to keep all the bits inside. It mushed her hair, but I thought if I put a nice hat on her head you'd never see it. Mum liked to read, so I took her into the lounge and sat her in the rocker. She was a big Stephen King fan, so I took down her favorite book and sat it on her lap. Her head still looked floppy, and I had to fix it.

I went to the kitchen and grabbed a broom from the closet. After breaking the handle in half over my knee, I went back to the lounge. I tilted her head back, and worked the broom handle down her throat. It took a bit of pushing to get it all the way in, but I managed to get it in when I stood on the chair and used my body weight to push it hard. Once her mouth was closed, she looked better. Her throat bulged a bit, but at least her head was sitting up straight.

There was a family that had just moved in down the street. They had a daughter Missy, who looked around eighteen I guess, pretty little thing. She had hair the color of the morning sun that went half way down her back. She must have had a thing about people touching her hair, because every time I tried to touch it, she'd scream. Her sparkling blue eyes would open wide whenever she saw me. I think she had a crush on me, because she would always run inside when I went near her. Shy, I guess.

It was a beautiful Summer day when I noticed her parents pulling out of their driveway. I knew Missy was alone, and would probably be lonely, so I went over to keep her company. She didn't answer the door when I knocked, so I went around the back. The rear door was unlocked, so rather than having Missy come all the way downstairs to answer my knock, I thought I'd save her the trouble and let myself in. The shower was running upstairs, and I could hear Missy singing. She had a lovely sweet voice. I climbed the stairs so I could hear her better.

Missy was getting out from the shower when I entered the bathroom. Gee, she had a loud scream. I wished she'd been singing that loud, so I didn't have to go upstairs to hear her. She started slapping at me, screaming and yelling at me to get out. I held up my hand to thwart off her attack, but knew she had to be taught a lesson. I don't like when I get hurt. I went to grab her, but she slipped on a puddle of water at her feet. She wasn't very bright I guess, Mum always made me put a towel on the floor when I washed. When she fell, arms and legs flailing, her head made a loud crack sound as it hit the floor. She didn't look that pretty with all that blood and stuff oozing out of her head. She was making me sick, so I left.

Dad was still in the bath. He was starting to look all shriveled up so I pulled him out of the water and dried him off. Seeing as Mum was dressed so nicely in her best hat and all, I grabbed some of Dad's nice trousers and a shirt from the cupboard and dressed him. Mum was going to be impressed. When I took him down to the lounge, I'm sure I saw a sparkle in Mum's eyes.

It was during Missy's funeral, that I just had this urge to see her, so I opened the coffin. It was sure hard to jimmy that crowbar as the casket was lowered, but I managed. Her mother didn't seem very happy, I thought she'd be pleased to see her daughter one last time. Missy looked so pretty once they washed all that blood and gunk out of her hair, and stitched up the big gash in the back of her head.

It was the day after the funeral that I decided it was time for Mum and Dad to meet her. They didn't know I had a girlfriend, and I was sure they'd be pleased. I had to wait for it to get dark incase others got jealous, to get her out of that hole. The soil hadn't been pressed yet, so it was fairly easy to dig. I'm glad her parents had thought to have Missy nicely dressed, because this was such a special occasion. It took me a while too, to unpick the stitches in her eyelids. Why they stitched them closed, I'll never understand. It was a bit hard to tell what was fiber, what was her eyelashes, so she ended up looking a bit like a plucked chicken; around her eyes anyway. I still thought she looked pretty as a button.

I sat Missy down at the kitchen table after I'd introduced her to Mum and Dad. I could tell they were happy for me. They both had a stunned look on their face, as though they couldn't believe I'd bought home a looker like my Missy. Mum's throat was looking a bit swollen, so I checked the broom handle. Sure enough, once I'd sat her upright, that sucker was starting to work its way back out. I had to get the long handled screwdriver and hammer and give it a few good whacks to get it back in place, but I finally got there. I think everyone was a little nervous at dinner, because I'm the only one that ate. I hoped it wasn't my cooking, but nobody said anything.

I could tell by the look in Missy's eyes that she was horny. She had one eye looking at me, the other one sort of drooped, but her message was unmistakable. I made our excuses from the table as I led her out the door. Mum and Dad just seemed to stare as we left, I think they were still stunned I'd landed myself such a babe. Some of the hair on the back of Missy's head was missing from where they'd placed the stitches, so I rested my hand on her head as though I was leading her out. I didn't want Mum and Dad seeing that, not during dinner time anyway.

I guess Missy was a little nervous, because her legs seemed to stiffen as I led her toward my bedroom. Her feet just kind of dragged along the carpet behind us, but I helped her. It was kind of like our honeymoon, minus the wedding and the holiday, so I was going to make it special. I gave her the dry side of the bed as I laid her down. Luckily, I'd seen Mum and Uncle Ben do things in the bedroom when Dad was out, so I had a fair idea what had to be done.

I unbuttoned her pretty frock and started squeezing hard at her breasts. My other hand was between her thighs, rubbing where her legs met her body. I kept whispering things like, 'Oh baby' and 'Oo yes'. This seemed to get a response as Missy's body expelled a loud gush of air. Not quite the response Uncle Ben got from Mum, but I didn't let it discourage me. I'd seen my uncle take his dick in his hand and guide it between Mum's legs, so I did the same. Since I'd given up wearing diapers, I didn't have to worry about undressing. Not sure where I was actually guiding my hard missile to, I rubbed in the center, and started raising my butt as I'd seen Uncle Ben do, and hoped I was doing it right.

I was sure I was, because as I lowered my body against Missy's, I heard her expel another loud rush of air. I got so excited, that I'd felt my dick doing strange things. I thought I was dying when my dick started spewing this thick white cream. I think Missy thought I was dying too, because one of her eyes had closed and the other just stared at me in shock. I did as my Uncle Ben did, and wiped my dick on the sheets before leaving the room. Boy, that was sure a night to remember.

Missy and me lived a happy life with Mum and Dad. They seemed happy for us, and never said a word when we disappeared to my bedroom. Dad was starting to look a little sick, as was Mum. The broom handle seemed to protrude from her neck more and more each day. Mum, Dad and Missy had all taken on a jaundice appearance, if green flaky skin is a symptom.

I'm sure it was Mrs.Crabapple from next door that reported the smell emanating from the house. Sure, I admit, some days I had to open windows to breathe, but I just thought it was coming from the basement where I kept my collection of stray animals.

I saw Missy's mother today. She was in the court room along with Missy's father. They both stared at me in wonder. I guess they just appreciated that I'd taken such good care of their daughter, but they sure had a strange way of showing their gratitude! Her father spat in my face, so maybe I hadn't wiped my mouth as well as I'd thought after dinner. I remember Mum doing that when I was young. She'd spit on the hanky though, then rub it onto my cheeks. Like the bathmat episode causing Missy's fall, I guess they did things different in that family.

I've made a few friends in here. Though the cell is small, I still get the odd six legged visitor. I have a new spider friend too. I pulled his legs off today so he can't try to chase me like my old spider friend had done in school. One of my other friends lives here; she's a small gray mouse with a limp. I'm not used to friends with fur, they used to get locked in the basement, but there's no basement here.

The doctor is coming, I can hear his footsteps echoing in the corridor. He hurts me with his needles. I don't like when I get hurt...

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