Page 58 of Twice as Twisted

“Say it.”

I yank my dick out, then slam it to the hilt inside her a third time. Her back arches, and she shrieks in pain, squirming to free herself. I yank her hips up again, plowing deeper. Her bare cunt grips me, trying to lock me out again, but I force myself to the hilt. Her sweet, agonized screams fill my ears, the only music that makes sense to me. The rest is just noise.

“Go get her aunt,” I order Duke.

When he’s gone, I shove Mabel’s head down on the man’s bloody throat, punch into her cunt, stretching it to the limit around me each time I stuff my cock to her depths.

“Please, please,” she chants under me with each thrust, her face a wreck of her own tears and the man’s blood and her hair sticking to both.

“No,” I growl. “You’ll take your punishment the way I say you will. Now open your eyes and watch the life drain out of his body.”

“No,” she cries, squeezing her eyes closed.

I drag her head up by the neck this time, shaking her to make her obey. “Look what you made me do.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers.

I shove her face into his neck, into the bloody mess, fucking her hard and fast, relishing the friction of her protesting cunt.

“You should be,” I say. “That wasn’t how I wanted my first kill.”

The truth is, there’s no life left to drain out of him, only blood. I’ve dreamed of this day since I was five years old, and I didn’t even get to see it. Not really. He was facing Mabel when I slit his throat, and she probably didn’t even see it, the precious moment when life blinked out of his eyes. She was too busy panicking to enjoy it, if her eyes were even open.

I shouldn’t have wasted it. When I finally killed a man, I wanted to savor it, to treasure it. But she fucked all that up, and now she’ll pay for that as much as she pays for fucking someone without my permission. She didn’t ask to meet the men she did in Tennessee, but I allowed it to continue. That was my implicit permission.

This was outright defiance.

I fuck her harder, rougher, mercilessly, while she sobs and writhes under me, trying to get away from both me and the dead body under her. The body of the man we both killed.

Duke returns with her aunt, holding one hand over her mouth and the other around the back of her head, steering her infront of him. When she sees us, she makes a cry of protest that would be loud if it weren’t muffled by his palm.

“What should I do with her?” Duke asks.

“Fuck her,” I order. “I’ve got Mabel.”

Duke pushes Mrs. Darling away. “No way, dude.”

Mrs. Darling draws a breath and opens her mouth like she’ll scream. That gets him.

Duke clamps a hand back over her mouth and squeezes her cheeks until tears spurt from her rolling eyes. “Scream loud enough for the neighbors to call the cops, and they’ll see what your niece did to the last man who fucked her,” he says, shaking her toward the body cooling on the floor under us.

She whimpers, and he shoves her over the arm of the armchair. She doesn’t scream, though. That’s Mabel’s job.

“Fuck her,” I command my brother. “You don’t have to wait for Mabel. She didn’t wait for you.”

I know the reminder of his hurt will make him lash out, and it does.

“You’re right,” he says, turning to Mabel. “You wanted us to see you fuck another man? Now you get to see how it feels.”

“You can’t!” Mabel cries. “She’s my aunt.”

“So?” Duke asks, an unhinged grin on his face. “We fucked your mom.”

“Be a good girl, and tell him you love him, or she gets fucked too,” I tell Mabel, stroking her hair back from her ear. I’m a magnanimous god, willing to let her choose the sacrifice she makes to show her devotion.

She grinds out the words. “I. Hate. You.”

“She’s probably tighter than you anyway,” Duke says. He yanks up Mrs. Darling’s t-shirt, yanks down her underwear, and plows into her.

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