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Legacy IV
Mental Mastrubation and Other Musings |
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I walked back toward the house dazed by the day’s events. Sitting in the foyer was blood red velvet with a small gold key tied to an old black ribbon. If those hags just drove pass and I’ve been on the porch for five seconds, who left this? I know this is the part of the story where the heroine stays in the creepy house with the mummified baby in the attic and doesn’t leave until the mystery is solved. I grabbed my packed bags and the velvet box in the foyer and left. Driving up to the Pine Bur Motel ten miles from Zeb’s Manor seemed a safe distance. If you think I’m a coward, you’d be right. I already suffered too much pain and fear in that house. Growing up there scarred my past, no need to continue the nightmare in the present. I tried calling Bryant but there was no answer on his cell. I hope that means he’s on his way. I lay on the bed trying to calm myself. What happened today would have unnerved Job and I know this is just the beginning as I stare at the velvet box sitting on the dresser. I don’t want to open it alone so I decided to wait until Bryant got here and we’d open it together. I see that damn box before drifting off. I must be dreaming because I‘m standing on the landing of a room where people in the most elegant clothing I’d ever seen. I’m dressed in beautiful chartreuse gown and crimson cotton quarter length gloves with a large diamond ring sparkling on my left gloved ring finger. In the corner of the landing stood my mother who was only a face in a picture up until now. She grabs me in a desperate embrace and the weight and warmth of her body seems strange.
There’s a scent of a floral perfume wafting around us, “Mom?”, I say shocked by the realness of the moment. She releases her hold as we latch on to each other’s stare. “It’s your turn,” she says with a smile and tears in her eyes gesturing for me to join the party. I don’t want to leave her side but my feet willing glide down the stairs looking back on an empty landing. People are quite friendly and I’m lead to a banquet table filled with various kinds of sumptuous food. With full plate I seek a seat. I see Bryant beckoning me to sit next to him. I rush over, take a seat and from that position plant a sensuous kiss on his lips only he begins suck on my tongue and the force of the suction almost fuses his mouth to mine. The more I try to pull away the stronger the force coming from him mouth becomes as his teeth slowly pierces my tongue. I’m hitting him as hard as I can and the clench breaks and I’m on the floor. I look up to see him chewing my tongue like a chunk of rare beef as the blood drips from his mouth down his tuxedo shirt collar. There’s no pain and my trembling hands covered my mouth gushing blood paints soaks the crimson gloves. The horror of the vicious attack by the man I love is both frightening and devastating. He smiles, chews, then drinks a glass of wine as a gathering crowd applauds politely at the grisly sight. I make it to my feet and run towards a door in the distance. I enter a room whose walls look like pulsating raw flesh. I try leaving and as I touch the doorknob it slides from my hand. I also realize the beautiful shoes I’m wearing are off and my feet are resting on the moving fleshy floor. I try screaming but no sound comes from my bloody hollow mouth. The only refuge is a four-poster bed I jumped in where a handsome, naked, man gently caresses my face planting a light kiss on my bloody lips. He then kisses my neck and instead of moving away I surrender to his advances. My dress and gloves disappear and I too am naked and my hands roam the firm contours of his body. His hands touch me and the lust between us was unmistakable. He pushed me back on the soft satin pillow, opening my thighs like butterfly wings and slowly he entered me. There is no way to tell you how good he fells as his skillful penis strokes slow and deep into my vagina while fondling by breast and kisses the edge of my ear. Every thrust of his pushed away inhibitions and dark carnal need met with the primal urge to fuck like monkeys. I am thoroughly enjoying sex with this stranger forgetting about my missing tongue, clinging to his back like drift wood bobbing in deep currents. I glanced over his shoulder noticing my grandmother sitting next to the bed in a rocker. The black ribbon around her neck held the large key to the attic door, baby’s coffin, and the red velvet box. The diamond that was on my gloved hand was on hers and she was rocking a bundle close to her heart to the rhythm of the creaking bed. When our eyes met a sinister smirk slithered across her face. Starting with a low murmur she looks through me as very voice raises to an unearthly howl clearly a woman in more pain than one person could bear. I tried pushing the man off and then I suddenly recognized him as a younger version my grandfather Zebulon Linden and he looked down at me with lustful eyes continuing the rough sex he started. He sees I’m fearful and it turns from consenting sex to rape as he pins my arms above my head and grandmother watches unleashing a bloody curdling scream-Suddenly the door of the room creaks open, , ,(To be continued . . .)
by Melissa E. Taylor copyright 2006