A dark story of history repeating

A male child, born with no given name, to a mother than cried heavily at the mere sight of him. He was forever a contanst reminder of his father that forcefully planted his seed within her virgin womb before disappearing into the depths of night, leaving her shivering and broken. What chance did this child have when even his mother found the sight of him abhorrent? She couldnt love and nourish him, and so he found himself abandoned to the mercy of whoever could.

He was named Samuel by the elderly woman that would call herself mother, though he refused to accept either. He fought her love, rebelled against the sanctuary of homeliness she’d created for him. The years of his growing were a constant struggle, and yet she refused to abandon him as his mother had. Even when his school refused to educate him she stayed at home in order to school him.

He resented and despised her, and yet with each passing year an infatuation grew within him. There was something within his DNA that compelled him to obsess over being around her at inappropriate times. He would spy through the keyhole as she undressed, and yet would refuse to join her at the table come tea time.

It was upon a random evening late in the year, rain lashing down upon the panes of glass and the occasional flash of lightening illuminating the otherwise dimly candle lit room that he appeared before her as she was in a state of undress.

Instinctively she cowered away, covering any exposed flesh from his unblinking eyes, and yet he reached out and pulled at her night blouse. As she fought his advances, sharp nails scratched her breasts drawing crimson lines across them. Crying in shock and pain she could do nothing as he exposed them, his hands gripping tightly the area directly around the nipple.

As the tears rolled heavily from her heartbroken eyes, and her requests for him to stop went ignored, he forcefully pushed her backwards onto the bed. She knew what was coming next, and yet was unable to stop it. Pain soared through her body as he entered her. Emotionless he satisfied himself within her as she sobbed uncontrollably, her clothes torn and blood flowing from the wounds received as reward for her attempting to resist.

He said nothing as he left. A dark figure disappearing into the depths of night, leaving behind a broken elderly woman whose womb began preparing for the unwanted gift she’d been given.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Writing Challenge

Story Challenge: Word and Genre suggested by Laura ~ neon hotpants / crime thriller.

“Talk to me Sargent. What have we got?”

The middle aged policeman cleared his throat before addressing the suit clad inspector. Whereas the Sargent was time served and had progressed through the force via hard work and pounding the streets, the inspector was fresh faced and straight from behind some desk at the academy. There was still a mutual respect for their respective rank.

“Another from the homeless community. Male, around thirty year old.”

“That’s the fifth in as many days! Cause of death?”

“Strangulation, the same as the others.”

The inspector nodded as though he’d been expecting the answer and began pacing around as if searching for answers to the questions in his head. “I assume there were no witnesses as before also.”

“Actually,” began the Sargent. “We have a description.”

It was the first time the attack had been seen, or at least the first time anyone had come forward with information. Whilst previous murders had similar characteristics, there had been no viable leads with which to investigate.

“Average build and height, wearing a black hooded and neon hotpants.”

The description had the inspector kicking the ground in frustration.

“Look around you. What do you see? We’re smack bang in the middle of festival season and nearly everyone is wearing neon clothing of some fashion.”

The Sargent remained silent.

“Let us hope the body parts with more helpful clues than your witness.”

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Finding Reason

‘Understanding’

To my left stands an Angel tending to my tears. “What did you do?” she asks soothingly.

On my right a Devil. “It’s not your fault!” he says rubbing my shoulder with his talloned hand.

Like an island isolated by a maddening sea, I stand resolute understanding their words, yet let them fall upon my ear, waves upon a rocky shore.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Caught – Taboo NSFW +18

The below is a work of complete fiction for a book entitled “Taboo” featuring a number of authors.

There I was, sitting alone, watching porn with my cock in my hand. Trousers around my ankles and erection standing proud as I stroked it gently.

To my utter surprise, in walks my daughter who says nothing but sits opposite me as I struggle to hide myself and pull up my trousers.

Slowly, her hand reaches under her clothes and it becomes evident she’s playing with herself. Her other hand clutches her breast and begins squeezing it tightly.

Caught in confusion. I’m struggling to dress and yet get oddly aroused at what I’m seeing. My cock is throbbing uncontrollably. Even more so as she begins undressing so as to make her own masterbation easier.

I sit back down in the chair. My gaze never leaves my daughter’s actions and I find my erection once again in my hands. Her groans were like sweet music. Her fingers stroking her young nubile clit.

As she brought herself to climax, her body arched and fingers deep inside herself, I felt the sweet release of my own cum all down my hardened shaft.

Slowly she stood, picked up her clothes and left the room. Nothing was ever spoken of the incident again, however I continue to masterbate knowing she’s in the house, hoping I get caught again.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Word / Genre Challenge #4

Word: Paper Aeroplane

Genre: Thriller

Autumn had arrived to the streets of London, and with it brought a distinctive nip to the earlier darkening evenings. The lamplighter having already done his early rounds, the flame from the street lamps casting ominous shadows along the many alleyways and recessed shop openings, had retired to warm his belly with a small brandy from within the hospitality of The George.

Inside, whispers were rife of another gentleman of wealth being parted of both his coin and his life down by the docks. He had been the third this month, and the local constabulary were still no further forward in establishing a motive, let alone potential suspects.

The only thing each victim had in common, was their privileged social standing, and a plain paper aeroplane that rest upon each of their chests.

Some speculated that their deaths were attributed to the proposed plans for an airfield where many of the poorest families are currently housed, but there was no proof substantiating these theories.

With the death toll rising, all potential leads were proving as cold as the plummeting temperature.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Curious 18+ NSFW

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked without a hint of compassion of sincerity. But then why would she, she was being paid regardless of whatever took place within the four walls of this dingy bleak hotel room.

He took her thick, hard penis in his hand, trying to give the illusion of being self assured and composed, however in reality he was trembling more than a young puppy whipped for fouling the carpet. Offering the tip to his Virgin ass, he braced himself.

An intense pain flushed over him as the thick shaft sunk deep inside him, and more so as it withdrew and thrust again. The was a strange sensation too. With each thrust he could feel her balls slapping against his own, his hardened penis swaying with the motions. It was quickly becoming a pleasurable pain and he couldn’t help but give vocal encouragement in the way of grunts and groans.

She grabbed his hips and held herself deeper than she’d been before, filling his once tight hole with her cum. He moaned gratefully as he accepted it all.

“Would you like to fuck me now?” she asked in the same clinical tone as before. “Or would you like me to just suck you off?”

He gazed at her large, false rounded breasts and she knew. Kneeling down, she placed his cock between them and waited for the inevitable release as a result of him fucking her cleavage.

“Well that’s that then,” she said wiping herself down with a nearby towel. “You’re trans sex cherry popped.”

He said nothing, preferring to dress in silence. Not through shame or guilt, but from a confused sense of his own sexuallity. They parted not saying another word, yet secretly knowing this would not be the late time they’d meet.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Picture Challenge

I walked what seemed like hours in the darkness
Taking re-assurance from the texture of uneven bark between my fingers
The trees, some three times my age, guided me
Like an old man holding gently the hand of his grandchild
I walked towards the light that hung in the air like some ghostly apparition
With a beauty most haunting it gave me chills
Was I heading towards salvation from the colour of the night
Or a prelude to my own eternal darkness

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Trapped

I feel the hurt portrayed in your eyes
The spiralling descent into nothingness
An abyss of depression
The fight lost
Over as exhaustion consumes you

The rut you were once in widens
Looking up from a chasm of constant similarity
Everything’s the same
The wheel of time turning
Fragments of yourself trodden underfoot

There is no anger to consume you
The fires of emotion extinguished long ago
An empty shell
Meandering along
Trapped like a slave to a life confined

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Web Master

He led her to a picture perfect representation of your stereotypical haunted house. Run down and derelict. Even the weather was causing a kind of ground fog that added to the spooky vibe. So why then did she follow him side?

The air was musty, and everything was covered in a blanket of dust, giving the impression that no one had lived here for years. The ceiling was covered in what at first looked like cob webs, but they were damp and in clumps like seaweed. The place sent a shiver down her spine.

“Are we supposed to be here?” she asked with nervous suspicion.

“Of course,” he replied whilst gesturing with his hands and bending his fingers.

At first she was unsure as to what he was doing, but it wasn’t long before she noticed the ceiling webs moving to his commands. They were dropping in long strands, then making their way back up again.

“Okay you’re freaking me out now,” she said turning for the door. “I’m going to leave.”

With a swift downward swipe a large clump of the wet unknown mass fell upon her knocking her to the floor. He stood over her smiling, moving his hands so as to control in some way the heavy weight that was pinning her down.

“What are you doing? Please! Let me go!”

“I can’t do that,” he replied with a sinister tone. “The family are yet to dine.”

No sooner had the words left his lips, he gestured to the ceiling once more. A large beetle type insect began to lower itself upon a strand of the web moving to the commands being given until it was lingering an inch above her right inner thigh. The short skirt she was wearing offering ample amounts of exposed flesh.

“Why?” she cried out. “Why are you doing this to me?”

With a snap of his fingers, the beetle lowered the final distance, sinking its twitching mandibles into her skin causing her to scream out in searing pain. No sooner had it bitten, he gestured for it to return to the ceiling once more.

Within minutes the wound began swell, blisting with a milky white fluid clearly visible beneath. The same milky white as the wet clumps on the ceiling. Moments later the wound exploded sending a stream of the web like strands up onto the ceiling, also causing her to scream in pain once more.

“Embrace it,” he smiled. “Your sacrifice is giving birth to new life.”

Her screams became much louder, much more full of fear as she could do nothing but watch as another beetle began to descend towards her face.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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Alternative Fairytale

Once upon a time, in a parallel universe, the princess was a bit of a minger and knights were geeky and weak.

Oh yeah, and dragons kicked ass and chewed regularly upon ill advised knights as well as the odd minger.

Happily ever after? Sure, if you were built like a proverbial shit house, could fly and breath fire!

The End.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown

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