Alarm bells were ringing in his head.

If Clint would do that to his own sister…

* * * * *

I was heartbroken when I saw that he was going to be there. That poor boy should not have to see what was going to happen but I just couldn’t wait any longer. I’d delayed long enough as it was… but I can’t help thinking how different things might have been if he’d just said no…

* * * * *

Jacob’s throat was dry as they marched in a group to the seventh Claypit. Not only had it been a long hard walk – he’d never been this deep before – but every time he looked over and saw Clint’s sister skipping along beside them, he felt like vomiting. His heart was thudding painfully and he could taste something strange and coppery at the back of his tongue. He really didn’t want to watch this. He really, really didn’t want to see what they were going to do.

He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t stop looking at Clint’s sister. She seemed unconcerned, bouncing about between the boys, happy to be going on an outing with her big brother. Jacob didn’t know what excuse they had used to lure her out here. He didn’t really care. He just wanted to get out of there. Even the thought of seeing her pussy, the first he’d ever see in real life, didn’t really excite him. Because he knew what would happen after. The memory of the girl on the last DVD rose in his mind and Jacob felt bile creep into his throat.

Now he was really wishing he hadn’t said okay but he knew it was a bit late for that. Sure he was scared of disappointing his brother, but what really stopped him from just turning and fleeing was that look that Michael kept shooting him. It was the same look he’d worn when he put the proposition to Jacob in the first place. The look that had said there was only one correct answer to the question. That the wrong answer would mean he’d end up like Clint’s sister. That his brother would say one day let’s go kick the footy or want to come with me to my mate’s house and they would be there waiting for him with the camera rolling.

‘Here we are,’ one of the boys announced as the group straggled to a halt. Jacob couldn’t remember his name. He’d been introduced to the boys when they met up at his house for a “pre-game drink” as they termed it but in his state of mind none of the names stuck. All he could think of was what he’d seen them doing on the DVD.

‘So what are we doing?’ Clint’s sister asked innocently, a slight look of confusion on her face and Jacob felt the pit of his stomach drop out.

The chuckle started with Michael, who stood behind the girl’s left shoulder, and spread out on both sides of him, taken up by the other boys as they formed a circle around the now very confused girl.

‘What are you doing?’ The fear was creeping into her face and Jacob felt like something inside him was breaking.

Even though he’d been asked along it appeared as though the others had forgotten him. All eyes were focused on Clint’s sister. When he looked into their faces, he was glad of that fact. He took a step back but it was like all the strength had leached from his legs and he staggered into a crouch, his hands held up to the side of his head.

Clint was the first to show his knife. The others quickly followed suit.

As he watched the girl’s face crumple in fear, Jacob felt wetness on his cheeks and abruptly realised he was crying.

‘No,’ he tried to scream but it only came out as a breathless whisper.

He managed to turn away and waited for the screams to start.

But perversely, when the first one rent the air, Jacob couldn’t help but look. His head spun of its own volition and he glimpsed the girl on the ground, ringed by the boys, hooting and hollering at her as she attempted to hold on to the flap of skin they’d sliced free of her cheek. He couldn’t help himself then. He fell to his knees and vomited…

* * * * *

That poor fucking boy. That was all I could think as I came upon the scene. That poor fucking boy. He didn’t want it. I knew it. But what else could he fucking do? The knives were out. The boys were in the swing. I don’t blame him for what he did. What choice did he have? It wasn’t like he could very well say no was it?

I saw the look he wore the whole time. I knew what he thought and I was just glad I was able to restrain myself long enough to let him leave. Even if later I came to question the decision, at least he didn’t have to see me at my worst…

* * * * *

Jacob couldn’t help it. As he slid in, he was crying, bawling like a baby. It wasn’t anything like he’d dreamt it would be. Sure it was a moment he’d never thought would arrive; a moment he had fantasised about for so long but there wasn’t any excitement for him. There wasn’t any pleasure. Not with the ring of boys surrounding him, wanking away as they taunted the girl.

His brother kept yelling at him, ‘Shoot it in there. Shoot it right up in there.’ But Jacob knew that was impossible. He couldn’t even keep his hard-on going despite how tight the hole was. It was just the thought of all that combined jizz he was sliding into – both his brother and Matthew had already shot their loads – and the way her eyes were bunched up beneath him. Her lips opened wide in a long soundless scream. And the blood that already coated her.

The cheek flap jiggled with every thrust and whenever he looked up the boys were there leering at him and the lens of the camera was unflinchingly focused on him and he felt so sick and disgusted but he just couldn’t think of anything else he could do but keep thrusting.

‘The fucking pussy’s crying. I thought you said he was up for this?’ one of the boys called and Jacob felt his heart go cold. It only made it worse and he slid out as his dick went limp.

He tried to stick it back in but it was impossible and when he felt the hand on his shoulder he started to blubber.

‘No, no, no, no, no.’

It dragged him back and although he was glad to be off her; glad he didn’t have to look at those blood- drenched features anymore, he was terrified. The hand released him a few metres away and he just crumpled to his knees.

He thought he’d pass out as his brother hunkered down beside him.

‘What the fuck’s wrong with you?’ Michael hissed in his ear as a shriek ripped through the air from the congregated group. Jacob didn’t want to know what they were doing. He just felt dizzy and sick and there was a strange roar in his ears.

‘I said, what the fuck’s the matter with you? You can’t fucking do this. You’re fucking embarrassing me man.’ Jacob just blubbered in reply as another shriek ripped through the air and one of the boys crowed, ‘That’s the way, fucking slice her up.’

‘Fuck it.’ Jacob could see his brother peering between him and the action and any last ideas he had of Michael being human just disappeared as he saw the blood lust etched on his face; saw that he didn’t want to miss a single second.

It just made the tears worse. Especially the way his brother looked at him with such sickened disgust.

‘Don’t fucking move,’ Michael hissed and turned back to join his comrades.

Jacob leant forward and vomited again.

It was only a thin trickle of bile this time but the pain of bringing it up wracked his entire body. And it just stunk so fucking bad. Far stronger than vomit should have.The smell of it filling his nostrils, scorching them, making his eyes water, causing him to gag again. It kept growing and growing, building impossibly until he thought his head would explode. It seemed impossible that it could reek that bad.

Вы читаете Spare Key
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату