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She Was Only A Clown Chapters 24 And 25

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SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3, click here to read chapter 4, click here to read chapter 5, click here to read chapters 6 an 7, click here to read chapters 8 and 9, click here to read chapters 10 and 11, click here to read chapters 12 thru 14, click here to read chapters 15 and 16, click here to read chapters 17 and 18, click here to read chapters 19 thru 21, and click here to read chapters 22 and 23. 

Chapter 24

Mandee and I were both still naked, wearing only our heels as we made our way through the big old house. We held on to each other and giggled as we felt our way through the dark rooms. Ryan wasn’t turning lights on and the ecstasy was hitting us hard as fuck so we could barely tell up from down when we finally saw a bright light switch on way up ahead in a room in the corner of the huge house.

“What is this, hide and seek?” Mandee yelled. Her words were slurred. She was as fucked up as I was. Trying to get down that long dark hallway was like walking through a fun house full off goofy mirrors.

We were fucked up on more than ecstasy.

Again, I don’t want you to think we were that dumb that we let a dude roofie us and drive us out to the boonies. We’d had guys try to spike our drinks before. Hell, I’ve been drugged at least three times while I was out trying to pick up dick. We’ve got mace in our purses and white knights just a phone call away to come save us anytime shit gets too hot in slutsville.

Problem was, Ryan didn’t seem like any of the previous creepy rapeoids we’d run into before. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time Mandee had been so excited to pick up a dude. We were always the huntressess looking for thick, hard cock to pounce on. But as we stumbled and fumbled our way into that back bedroom, I realized we were the prey.

“Hang on,” I slurred, trying to get a handle on the situation before we flung ourselves headlong into something we didn’t fully understand.

But Mandee was already hopping into the room. Yes, hopping. She was out of her mind fucked up, pretending to be a rabbit. I lurched after her, trying to clear my head and buy us an extra few seconds to talk about what the hell was happening to us.

But then it was too late. The door shut behind us. I heard the metallic tumble as it was locked. I turned around and even through the wavy haze of my drug induced episode I could tell that Ryan hadn’t taken any ecstasy. He stood there, clear eyed. Smiling. He held something behind his back.

Mandee slumped over onto me, barely able to stand now as the drugs overwhelmed us. It was as if Ryan knew exactly how long he had to get us home before we were jelly-legged and piss-brained.

Like he’d done this before.

“W-what the fuck?” is all Mandee could manage as she looked around at the room.

In the corner, Ryan had laid out a bare twin sized mattress. The walls were bare save for one small shelf that contained an assortment of saws, hammers, handcuffs, gags and blindfolds. The windows were covered in thick drapes, not that it mattered way out there in the country.

The thing Mandee was freaking out about was the blood. There was blood dried on the mattress, on the walls around the mattress and the floor. And behind Ryan, the door he’d locked was made of some kind of custom reinforced steel. It had no handle on the inside, just a tiny slot for a key and another larger slot at eye level, presumably for Ryan to leer through when he wasn’t inside doing god knows what to god knows who with the bloody instruments hanging from the walls.

The bitch had really walked us into a torture chamber. We’d roofied ourselves, stripped naked and practically danced right into Ryan’s trap.

Yes bitches can be just that fucking stupid if you make us horny enough.

A clanking sound at my feet snapped me out of my bewildered state. I tried to focus on the object, finally deciding that squinting while closing one eye gave me the best chance at seeing what the fuck it was around the swirl of pulsing color that currently assaulted my senses.

A crowbar.

“The fuck are you doing?” I said, staggering around to face our captor.

“Ya’ll are fucked. Let’s just get that out there and put it to rest now. You ain’t getting out of this room unless I decide you are, are we clear?”

Mandee started to whine behind me. Her mind was in outer space but she was following Ryan’s words. That was good. I was going to need her help if we were going to live through the night.

At least that was my initial reaction to being locked inside Ryan’s torture room.

Way things actually played out went sideways faster than I can scarf down an uncircumcised cock.

Chapter 25

“One of you will pick up that crowbar and hit the other one with it.”

Mandee and I looked at each other, then back at Ryan trying to figure out if he was joking. He didn’t look like he was joking.

“Do it now. What the fuck are you whores waiting for, a dog whistle?”

“Fuck you, piece of shit!” Mandee yelled, putting her hand on my shoulder for balance.

Ryan laughed. His face had changed. His eyes. It was like a mask had been dropped and the real Ryan was looking at us now. The evil Ryan.

“Let me just lay it out there, I know you girls are a little out of it right now, but try to follow along. I’m going to stand outside this room while the two of you beat and rape one another with various instruments of torture while I pleasure myself to the sounds of your screams and pleas for help and I’m only going to let one of you live. If you refuse to play along, I’ll chop you both up while you’re still alive, rape your dismembered bodies in front of each other and feed you to one another until there’s nothing left for me to fuck. Okay?”

Mandee shuffled forward, small tits perked up, hair blown back from running her hands through it. She looked like a nude goddess standing there all defiant, staring death in the face and spitting at it.

“I’ll fucking claw your eyes out and rip your little fucking pecker off before you get a chance, asshole! Come on! Fucking come get me!”

Ryan fumbled with the keys in his hand, clearly underestimating Mandee’s level of lucidity. But before he was able to get out of the torture chamber, Mandee caught in him clean in the dick with a lightning fast knee to the groin, causing him to cry out in shock and pain, sending the key ring flying across the room.

That’s when Mandee set to work on his face. She jumped onto his chest, knocking him back into the steel door and started tearing at his eyes with her nails, just as she’d threatened to do.

She got him good, too. Blood was pouring from his face when he finally got a hold of her hair and yanked her head back, peeling her off him like she was an angry cat.

“Fucking cunt! I’ll fuck your lifeless eye sockets!”

But for all his big talk, he was still fucked up from the knee to the dick so when Mandee reared back and kicked him in the chest he went down like a sack of assholes.

I said before he was tall but lanky. There wasn’t much to him. He might have been stronger than Mandee but she had that ass and thighs on her.

He lay there trying to suck in air as Mandee went to just stomping on his chest and head. He put his hands up, trying to grab onto her legs and pull her off but after three or four stomps she got him in the throat with her heel and must have cracked or smashed something in there because he set to wheezing after that and it was clear he didn’t pose much of a threat anymore.

Mandee turned around, covered in Ryan’s blood, doing a lot of huffing and puffing of her own. “Get the keys,” she said, wiping the blood out of her eyes. “let’s get the motherfuck outta here!”

That’s when I hit her in the face with the crowbar.

***

Be back here next Saturday, December 16th, for chapter 26! 

She Was Only A Clown Chapters 22 and 23

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SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3, click here to read chapter 4, click here to read chapter 5, click here to read chapters 6 an 7, click here to read chapters 8 and 9, click here to read chapters 10 and 11, click here to read chapters 12 thru 14, click here to read chapters 15 and 16, click here to read chapters 17 and 18 and click here to read chapters 19 thru 21.

Chapter 22

So I me this guy. Wait, I gotta back up. I met this girl. I like to go out. I like to get weird. I’m a slut, ok? There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s my body and it looks fuckin’ good. I’ll do what I want with it while I’m young and tight, ok?

Anyway, so I go out. I go to bars, clubs, whatever I’m in the mood for. Sometimes I dress classy and go into the city and let well paid businessmen or huge black athletes take me home and fuck me while they whisper how pretty I am in my ear and tell me they’re gonna buy me all kinds of fancy stuff. Most of the time I gotta block their numbers from my phone cause they won’t quit callin’ me.

And sometimes I like to dress like a skank and find the dirtiest, filthiest biker bar in the county and let a group of nasty ass, toothless, methed-out bikers take turns pounding my asshole with their hairy peckers while they spit on my back and tell me I’m a bigger whore than their sisters. I ain’t ever gotta block their numbers. Most of them crank-heads never even ask me my name before they butt-fuck me.

Look, I was raised in Hopp’s fucking Hollow, Illinois by an alcoholic single mother, after all. I ain’t better than nobody, just cause I’m pretty and have big tits. Momma might have raised a slut, but she didn’t raise no rude ass bitch.

Anyways, one night while I was out whoring around, I met this girl. Well, I’d seen her around a few times before and it always pissed me off cause she had a better ass than me and she had her face all pierced up, looking all goth and interesting and shit.

The boys at the lame sports bar we was at were paying a helluva lot more attention to her shaking that bubble butt stuffed into a pair of black tights with skeleton legs printed on them than they was to my best deep-cut cleavage shirt. The one that made my boobs look like were twin titty-planets floating in fuck-me space. 

First time she invaded my slut territory, I ended up having to go home with some pimple-faced nineteen year old jock who blew his load all over me before he even got it inside me. I mean, fuck man, I shaved my pussy for that?

Next time I went to that bar was purely out of spite. I did my hair up big, spent a whole hour on my eyeliner wings and broke out the best cocksucker red lipstick I owned. And you better believe I showed up late so I wouldn’t be stale meat when little miss pierced ass showed up.

Sure enough, when I waltzed in with my knee high hooker boots and belly shirt with my tiny leather jacket barely holding in my tits, all them faggy football players’ eyes was on me.

I got my pick of the litter that night and got my pussy and ass split in half by a pair of quarterbacks in from college. I had to ice down my crotch the next day it was so blown out from those big hard dicks.

Guess the war was on after that cause me and that skany fat-assed bitch both made that dumb little bar our permanent hangout.

Joke was on us though cause after a few weeks we’d both done fucked everybody in that bar worth fuckin’ from the owner’s coke-head son to the black line cook in the back with a tongue longer than most white boy dicks.

About the time I was ready to give up on the place and let skanky-face have it, she came up to me one night and introduced herself.

“Hey, I’m Mandee.”

I thought about lying and telling her I already knew what her name was cause all the guys in the bar had told me her pussy stank and she gave shitty head, but I decided to be nice and just tell her my name was Kiana so we could get on with whatever the fuck she wanted to get on about.

“So, whatever’s going on with our little slut rivalry here is getting kinda lame.”

I just nodded and sipped on my Long Island Ice Tea admiring how well she was able to fade the dark purple shade of her lipstick into a light pink on the edges giving her mouth a wet appearance that made me want to kiss her more than fight her.

“We’ve both fucked every great dick and most of the lame ones that this bar,” Mandee said, playing with the straw in her margarita. “And every other bar this town and two towns over has to offer, for that matter.”

She had that right.

“I say we team up,” she said, beaming a huge smile at me that had my pussy practically crying. Mandee was pretty as fuck.

“Team up how? Like schedule our days at bars in advance so we can maximize the number of fresh dicks we stuff up our hungry cooters?”

Mandee laughed. It was a full bodied laugh, high and feminine, like a lioness calling the rest of the pack in for the kill.

“You’re as funny as you are sexy,” she said, giving me a sly, side eyed glance as she took a sip of her drink.

“Same,” I said, smirking.

“I’m saying, let’s make this more fun for ourselves. Let’s fuck these bozos together!” Her eyes got wide and intense as she laid out her pitch to me.

Mandee and I became besties after that. We’d meet up every night, play dress up with each other, do each other’s makeup and go out to pick up dudes.

Sometimes we’d play games with each other. I’d dress Mandee up in the lamest mom-pants and poofy bangs combo I could manage, then sit at the bar snickering into my booze as the dudes still relentlessly tried to pick her up.

Other times she’d bet me that I couldn’t keep a Russian accent going all night, from the time we hooked up with a dude to when he was pounding my asshole raw on my living room floor several hours later.

Lemmie tell ya, trying to fake an accent in the middle of an ass-gasm from a 10 and half inch black dick while Mandee’s velvet lips sucked on my pussy like a fuckin vacuum cleaner attachment was hard fucking work.

Mandee and I became so close, she ended up moving into my apartment after a few months of slutting it up together.

She became my best friend. Our best move, the move we saved for the guys with the biggest dicks or at least the ones who knew how to use their cocks the best was a one-two punch of whoredom.

We used both of our strengths like a Frankenstein slut. I’d lay on my back and make the dude fuck my huge tits while Mandee would straddle my head, facing forward so her juicy booty was right in the guy’s line of sight. I’d eat her pussy and finger her butthole while the dude plowed my cleavage. Ain’t no dude EVER hold a load back more than five minutes after we put our super-move on him, I’ll tell ya that.

You might think I got the raw end of that stick, seeing as how I was getting Mandee off with my fingers and mouth while the dudes got to blow their load all over my titties and face, but I didn’t complain a bit. I had the best tasting, sweet little pussy grinding on my face, pulling my hair and a thick cock sliding between my tits, dude twisting my nips and squeezing my boobs.

I’d cum two, even three times some nights just playing with my own sopping wet little cooze while all that was going on.

Suffice to say, life was pretty fucking great for a while. Hell, I’d even considered proposing to the bitch a few times we was having so much fun together.

Everything in my life was fucking wonderful. And then we met him.

Chapter 23

One night Mandee and I were out at this bar a good forty five minutes outside Hopp’s Hollow. That night, we had a bet going on to see how many hand-jobs each of us could give under the tables and in the bathrooms before the end of the night. The loser had to pay the tab.

I was up six handies to four when Mandee came walking back from the bathroom with a hunk and a half.

I mean this dude was pretty. He was tall which is always a plus. What easy bitch doesn’t love a tall dude? He was lanky, too which Mandee liked more than me. I’m into huskier dudes. The kind who can lift you up and sit your pussy on their face right there standing in the middle of the room kinda shit.

But this dude wasn’t too skinny. He was just long. Long arms, long legs, long neck. He was dressed really nice. Even had on a little sports jacket. Well groomed. He had a small beard that was trimmed neat at the sides of his mouth and wavy black hair that was definitely moosed into place.

He topped all this off with a musky cologne and a firm handshake that confirmed to me that Mandee and I would be pulling our tits and ass routine on this dude back at our place before the bartender could signal last call, handjob contest be damned.

“Hey, I’m Ryan. Mandee said you’re her roommate?”

“I like to think of myself as her love slave,” I said, winking at him, cutting through the bullshit as fast as I could.

Ryan smiled. “Mandee said you were a wild one. We’re gonna put that to the test tonight.”

Mandee leaned in, all eyes and teeth, more excited than I’d seen her since we took a whole college basketball team back to my place and let them play beer pong with our assholes as the cups.

“He’s got ecstasy and he’s into bondage,” she said, giggling. “I tried to give him a hummer in the bathroom but he said he wanted to save the fun for his place.”

We didn’t normally go home with dudes. We weren’t trying to get raped or nothing. Our lifestyle worked best when we brought guys back to our place where we could keep an eye on them and make them leave whenever we wanted.

I trusted Mandee so if she wanted to get all weird and twisted up on drugs and let a stranger tie us up and fuck the piss out of us, I was game.

The three of us dosed up, finished our drinks and walked out the door.

Twenty or thirty minutes later, me and Mandee were butt naked, making out in the back seat of Ryan’s SUV while he drove us up a dirt road in the middle of nowhere.

Should we have known better? Fuck yeah. But something about the dude, how much Mandee was into him and for sure the massive amount of drugs we were on clouded our judgment. The fact that Mandee’s plump ass was pouncing up and down on my face like she was teaching a pilates class on it as Ryan drove us up to a creepy deserted farmhouse didn’t help matters any.

“Holy Texas Chainsaw Massacre much!” Mandee squealed as we piled out of the car, stumbling into the massive front yard. Only a single light in a room on the second floor illuminated the house from the inside.

Ryan laughed. “It was my grandpa’s place. My parents are too old to take care of it so they let me have it. I stay here when I’m in town on business.”

Mandee pulled out her cell phone while I steadied myself by holding on to her shoulder, struggling to put my shoes on in the full throes of my ecstasy trip.

Mandee tried to take a video of the giant house. “Damnit, no reception out here in the fuckin’ boondocks!”

“Guess you girls are at my mercy,” Ryan said, making his eyes big and wiggling his fingers at us in mock fear.

“Guess so,” Mandee said, smirking. “Hope you don’t tie us up or nothing.”

“Oh I’ve got much more than that in mind for you ladies.”

With that, we walked into Ryan’s house. Mandee dramatically slammed the door behind us screaming, “We’ll never get out alive!”

The awful thing is, she was right.

***

Be back here next Saturday, December 9th, for chapter 24! 

She Was Only A Clown Chapters 15 and 16

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SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3, click here to read chapter 4, click here to read chapter 5, click here to read chapters 6 an 7, click here to read chapters 8 and 9, click here to read chapters 10 and 11 and click here to read chapters 12 thru 14.

Chapter 15

“Why won’t you kill him, Elwood?”

Whatever nerve Elwood possessed before his dead uncle spoke was obliterated in that moment.

It wasn’t the balloon-like lips parting, cracking and bleeding that shattered his wits. It wasn’t even the frog-sized purple and blue tongue poking out from behind the teeth that did it.

It was the voice.

Uncle Jeff’s vocal chords must have been ruined when the rope broke his neck as he fell away from the loft railing because the voice that escaped those ruined lips was not the deep, jovial voice of Elwood’s most cherished relative.

It was the clown girl’s voice. Except it wasn’t that either. Not exactly. It was controlling Jeff’s shredded vocal chords the way it was controlling the girl’s.

“I don’t want to kill,” Elwood said, finally, trying his best not to make eye contact with the… thing hanging over him like some dead effigy of of his normal life. “I’m not a killer.” He said the last part as much to himself as to the talking corpse of his dead uncle, as if saying it out loud would make him believe it.

The truth was, he DID want to kill Mark Nelson. He wanted it badly. More than anything he’d ever wanted in his life. It was only upon his post-coital sobering that he began to have doubts.

Here, now, inside his worst memory, he was having trouble remembering what had been so exciting about the prospect of murder. Almost like he’d been possessed by another entity. An entity he’d shot out of his cock along with his load all over the clown girl’s tits.

Elwood’s apparent defiance evoked unsettling laughter from dead uncle Jeff. The corpse threw its head back and cackled.

“Do you really believe any of those people out there care about you? Do you think your parents would have missed you if Mark and his brothers had slaughtered you and buried your body in the woods?”

Elwood didn’t answer. He knew the truth without Jeff having to state it. But the corpse did anyway.

“They hate you, Elwood. The people who brought you into this world see you as nothing but a burden. Worse, they blame you, rightfully, for Jake’s accident and for my suicide.”

Tears flooded Elwood’s eyes as his heart sank.

“Do you want to know what they secretly think but never say aloud to one another?”

Elwood knew the answer. It was palpable in the air at his home. Every time he caught his mother’s passing glance when he walked through a room. Or the way his father turned his back to Elwood any time they were in close proximity.

“They wish I’d never been born,” he said, choking back a sob.

“That’s right. The people in this world who should love you the most wish you’d never existed. Then Jake would be normal. Then I’d still be alive.”

“Stop!” Elwood screamed, shaking his head. “Just stop it!”

Anxiety pulsed through him as he cried. He shook all over. He was maybe only moments away from a complete mental breakdown. Not because the corpse of his uncle spoke lies. But because he spoke the truth.

“Then why be afraid of killing Mark Nelson? Does he not deserve it for what he did to you in his room? Or what he did to you for years after in the school yard? He has done nothing to earn your compassion, Elwood. You mean nothing. You’re barely human. Join us. Finish him.”

Elwood winced at the accusation. Barely human. His whole life he’d felt less than human. Like a waste of air. Like a burden on gravity.

Why was he hesitating? Why wouldn’t he take the final step, cross over into the corruption? Embrace the darkness that was already projected onto him even by those bound by blood to love him?

It wasn’t some sense of moral obligation to humanity. A creep like Elwood was not fooled by such notions of ethical absolutism.

It certainly wasn’t an affection or empathy toward Mark Nelson. Elwood wanted him to die. Wanted him to die slowly and painfully like his psychotic brothers.

No, it was something much more subtle that kept Elwood from giving himself over to the weird entity that trapped him inside his nightmare.

It was the look in the clown girl’s eyes. Her real eyes, human eyes.

Before Elwood could think on it further, the corpse of his uncle Jeff lifted up, defying gravity, causing the rope around its neck to go slack for a moment before the bloated, wretched thing soard forward and downward, adding impossible length to the rope until it hovered just in front of Elwood’s face.

Elwood leaped backward in fright, but he knew there was nowhere to go. Indeed, a glance behind him showed that even the doors of the barn were being devoured by the slow creep of the black oblivion, consuming Elwood’s nightmare with a maddeningly slow pace.

Facing the distorted features of dead uncle Jeff pushed Elwood even closer to the brink of mental exhaustion.

At this distance, Elwood was able to see the gouges across Jeff’s fluid-filled neck cavity where he’d reached up and tried to claw himself free of the noose after he’d dived from the loft railing.

This echo of memory, this shame nightmare Elwood was trapped inside of did not spare his other senses either. He could smell the rancid shit and gore from where Jeff’s bowels had emptied into his pants, down his legs and onto the barn floor. Could smell the coppery congealed blood violently caked all across the features of the man Elwood had considered the only person who truly cared about him.

“You will join us or you will die,” the corpse hissed.

“I know that,” Elwood said, feeling like he was on the verge of emptying his own bowels had it not been for the fact that Mark had pretty much rendered that an impossibility at least for a few days while his guts healed. “I’m ready.”

“Ready to kill?” the corpse asked, cocking its melon-like head.

“Ready to die.”

Chapter 16

The corpse made an inhuman noise, clearly frustrated at Elwood’s defiance.

A defiance which surprised even Elwood himself. He figured, with what little fissure of sanity he yet possessed, that he simply had nothing left to lose. Putting him here, confronting the very worst possible moment of his life had clearly been meant as a way to weaken Elwood’s constitution. To test his mettle. 

This had succeeded greatly. Maybe too greatly, because now, with nothing to live for and nothing left to lose, grinning with a renewed sense of purpose, Elwood’s fear and anxiety began to melt away.

He was no longer fearful of dead uncle Jeff, nor of whatever otherworldly entity that possessed the memory of him.

This entity must have sensed Elwood’s growing bravery because just as Elwood found his courage, the corpse of Jeff started to come apart. Bits of flesh, hair and bone began to swim out from the body as though it were submerged underwater.

At the cracks in the seams where this detritus escaped, that now all too familiar black matter appeared pulsing with its rows of green eyes.

Within another moment, Jeff’s body was hovering again, but all across its perimeter like some unholy outline was the creature inhabiting it, like a ventriloquist controlling a dummy.

Tendrils squirmed out from burst gaseous sacs sending waves of noxious fumes into the air as Jeff’s body continued to rise.

His face which Elwood thought could not become more hideous split down the front, the two halves falling away like broken eggs, revealing the triangle face of the thing that had set all of tonight’s fantastic and horrible events into motion.

It menaced Elwood, soaring above still hanging on to uncle Jeff’s ragged corpse like a locust clinging to its shed skin.

“Enough games, child,” the thing said, no longer bothering to use the mock voice of uncle Jeff. Its own synthetic cadence booming throughout the barn. “You will see.”

The thing snaked a tendril down from the rafters of the barn where it hovered and before Elwood could act, stabbed the sharp end of the tentacle directly into Elwood’s forehead.

“And you will obey.”

***

Be back here next Saturday, November 18th, for chapter 17!