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  1. So, I wrote a thing and it started as one thing but then became something else and then became another thing, anyway, long story short, this story has a lot of things going on so.... Seriously, this is gonna be rough and I don't want tears and complaints from some of you thin skinned folks that you weren't warned and couldn't cum because of the graphic content in this story or whatever reason you'd complain. I warned and you didn't heed, QQ elsewhere my sweet Summer child, Winter is here. On The Rocks By: RambleLamb He scooped up a small handful of ice and dropped them into the short tumbler glass, the pleasant clink of each cube striking the interior giving him a small amount of joy amid the sea of terrible emotion he found himself lost in. "Twelve years." he muttered, his large hand cupping over his mouth, his thumb and fingertips stroking the stubble on his unkempt chin as he stared at the glass and the ice within. He knew what was missing and he knew what adding that ingredient would mean, and he sat in silent contemplation weighing his options and wondering whether it would actually matter at this point. The bottle of Scotch sat less than a foot from him on the bar and he played out the scene of pouring the brown liquid into the glass, the ice shifting at the introduction of the room temperature liquid, the smell of it filling his nose and causing him to get that familiar itch in the back of his throat in anticipation for the long forgone meeting between lips and liquor. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the battered pack of cigarettes from the pocket inside, the last one rattling around in its paper prison as he jerked his wrist to bring it out far enough to wrap his lips around the filter before tossing the empty pack onto the bar. Grabbing the matchbook on the bar and flipping it open snapped the last match from inside and swiped it across the strike strip on the outside, the smell of sulfur and heat dancing around him as he brought the small flame to the end of his cigarette and drew in deeply. "What a fucking mess." he thought as he turned on the barstool and looked out at the living room behind him. His wife, well, ex wife now, lay slumped over the frame of the large glass coffee table in the center of the room. The once white shag carpet beneath was wet with crimson and sparkled with broken glass from his wife going through it. Her arms stretched out in front of her in the sticky pool, her head hanging downward with her chestnut locks stringy with blood fanned out lazily from her head as she stared blankly at him. She looked like a puppet whose strings had been cut in the middle of an elegant performance, her pale skin weeping from the multitude of small cuts all over her body, her insides piled up on the floor beneath the jagged piece of glass that had ended her life by slicing through her toned stomach. He took another long drag from the cigarette and looked at her slumped over the table, his eyes drawn to the only article of clothing she was wearing, wondering suddenly whether or not the source of the smell in the room could be found within that garment. He pushed that thought from his mind, remembering the heavy metallic smell of blood permeating every molecule of air in the room, dismissing his notion of piss and shit aroma's as just phantom scents brought on by the assumption he'd formed seeing the garment. Rising from the barstool, he walked around the far side of the couch, shaking his head to dispel the thoughts he was having about his wife's pert breasts, enticing even upside down and attached to a very dead woman. He chided himself for becoming hard thinking about his dead wife's tits, thinking back to the bottle on the bar for a moment but continuing his walk. The man in the hallway leading into the living room and from the bedroom was dressed the same as his wife and lay on the floor on his stomach allowing the sight of the deeply discolored seat of his garment to bring the debate of phantom versus actual smell back to the forefront of his mind. The dead man couldn't have been much older than twenty, though given the state of his head, that was probably up for discussion. The back of the young man's head was caved in, his blonde hair matted with blood and brain, the strands sticking together in clumps over the gully that his head now was making it look like some kind of monstrous flytrap kind of creature in the middle of digesting what could be a fetal pig with severe birth defects, brains were not attractive to look at. He sidestepped the pool of gore and put his cigarette out in the ashtray on the small table at edge of the living room and continued down the hall. The light above flickered dimly and allowed him just enough light to make out the words written in blood and possibly shit on the walls. "Whore", "Cunt", and "Mommy" were scrawled across the olive wallpaper, the last one scratched through with a streak of reddish brown like the writer had just run their hand across the wall on the way to or from their next victim. The smell in the first bedroom when he opened the door tickled his uvula, bringing a strong need to vomit to the top of his list of things to do, but he swallowed repeatedly and choked back the hot acidic bile that crept so close to the surface he didn't think he'd manage to keep it down. The couple on the bed had been in the middle of some kind of feeding, the woman seated with her back against the headboard, her swollen breasts hanging pendulously down just above the face of the woman laying across her lap. The nipple and areola of the seated woman's right breast were gone, the area now just a weeping sore of exposed muscle tissue, the removed bits of skin hung between the teeth of the woman laying down beneath her breasts. The seated woman had been screaming when she died, her mouth open and her face contorted in permanent anguish and torment. The large gash along her throat looked like her neck was yawning after eating too many strawberries, her chest and stomach drenched in now dry blood as was the majority of the body of the woman laying down, making her look like a sweet that had been dipped into a chocolate fountain filled with something more rusty than chocolate, the milk the seated woman had expelled had separated where it had pooled in the cove between the two women, looking like bacon grease had been poured there. He moved around the side of the bed and found another man, this one laying on his back, his head against the wall at a horrible angle given the flatness of the rest of his body. The front of his garment and the back of the laying girl's garment had holes in them, hers had leaked shit and blood from it onto the sheets below while his allowed the ease of noticing that his cock no longer existed, the severed stump just inside the hole looking like a little groundhog afraid to come out and see his shadow. Leaning forward and looking more closely at the hole in the back of the laying girl's garment allowed for the aha moment of finding the missing member burrowed into the hole and probably into the hole beyond that when he'd lost it. Standing upright, he moved to the bathroom, finding two young girls, maybe freshly eighteen, a blonde and a redhead intertwined in the tub with the blonde's head floating in the water to the right of the pair and the redhead's head staring up at him from the black and white bottlecap tile on the floor, the water mixing with the blood to make the white tiles look pinkish. Both women were naked, though the chunks of padding floating in the bloody water led him to believe they had been dressed just like everyone else he'd seen so far. The wall behind the shower was smeared with blood, "Help them, Daddy" was scrawled in the blood, the letters shining white from the tile behind against the backdrop of dried blood, "Oops, too late." was just below that followed by a crudely drawn frowning face. He sighed as he walked out of the bathroom, back through the bedroom and to the hall where he stopped outside the second bedroom door. This door was pink and had "Lizzy" in bright pastel baby blocks on it. Below the letters was a bloody handprint that streaked down like the person had dragged their hand down the surface to the knob that was caked with blood as well. Pushing lightly on the door opened it slowly, the tinny lullaby coming from the mobile above the crib filled the room and the light from the hall mixed with the little nightlight in the corner to perfectly illuminate the young woman in the middle of the floor. She was on her back, her legs curled up to her chest. Her sweet cocoa colored skin was slick with blood, nearly covering her entirely like an ill conceived prom prank victim. She was gurgling and babbling in her "little" voice, the one she used to keep everyone fawning over her and adoring her as they bounced her on their knee or fed her on their lap. She was sucking on her fist, periodically pulling it from her mouth to let her tongue dance over it, happy and contented noises emanating from her throat as she licked the blood from on and between her fingers. She lolled her head to the side to look at the door as it opened and giggled sweetly when she saw him standing there. Rolling onto her side, she got up on all fours and crawled toward him, the sagging garment secured around her waist rustling and crinkling as she approached, looking up at him with her widest and most innocent eyes. "Lizzy, you've been a very naughty girl." he told her calmly as he looked down at her. She pouted up at him, her little nose crinkling cutely as she shook her head. "No, Daddy, Lizzy was just playing." she said sweetly as she sat up on her knees and looked up at him, her right hand moving down the top of her only article of clothing while her left hand moved up to the puffy little Hershey kiss nipple of her left breast, her breathing becoming a slight pant as her right hand began to noisily work within the crinkling confines of her attire. He shook his head. "No, Lizzy, you were naughty and made a big mess." he told her. She giggled and gently bounced on her butt. "A really big mess." she told him, referring to something else entirely. He removed his coat and dropped it to the floor before rolling up the sleeves of his white collared shirt. "Lizzy is going to apologize to Daddy before her punishment, isn't she?" he asked her as his hands went to his fly and worked it down to allow his cock to spill out. Lizzy's eyes seemed to sparkle in the indirect light coming from behind his broad form and she nodded as she wiggled forward on her knees and stooped to take the head of his cock into her mouth, taking all of it up to the base inside before letting it back out again until only the head was still inside. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring her wet little mouth as it wrapped around his cock, the way her velvety tongue danced around his shaft like a belly dancer made of liquid sex. When he opened his eyes and looked down at her he saw her nursing the head of his manhood softly, like he'd seen her do with her pacifier frequently and frowned and shook his head as he grabbed the back of hers and forced himself into her, making her gag and sputter as drool poured from her mouth and onto the nursery carpet. She looked up apologetically and began to work his girth in and out of her mouth with practiced ease, her hand still working between her thighs as she moaned and panted around his swollen member. "Stop touching yourself, Lizzy, this isn't meant to be pleasurable for you." he commanded firmly but in a hushed tone. She didn't stop though, she kept bucking into her fingers, pushing herself closer and closer to what she wanted. When he pulled himself from her mouth and slapped her across the face it changed the game. Her sweet and innocent little girl act melted away and allowed the vicious and predatory side of her to come out as she growled at him and got up into a squat like a feral jungle girl ready to pounce. He undid his belt and pulled it from the loops of his slacks, letting it hang in his hand like a dead snake, the buckle glinting in the light as it lay on the carpet. "Think about what you're next move is, little one." he warned. She looked at the belt, knowing the kiss of both the strap and buckle intimately and then looked up at him, knowing the strength he had and that she'd be no match for him if she tried to fight him head on. She lowered herself to all fours again and crawled back over to him. "Lizzy is sorry, Daddy." she said sweetly and sincerely as she once more latched onto his cock to dutifully finish the task she'd been given. As she sucked, he patted her head softly. "We're going to have to move again, Lizzy." he told her. Lizzy whined between loud slurps. "I told you that you needed to control yourself and you promised me you would." he chided. "You said, 'Daddy, I'll be on my best behavior and won't hurt anyone unless you give them to me', isn't that right?" he asked. Lizzy again whined, but also made an affirmative noise to let him know she had indeed said something like that. "Daddy trusted you and even made a life here, and then you spoiled it by being naughty, didn't you?" he asked, struggling to get his words out as he neared climax. Lizzy gave another affirmative moan that drowned in his seed as he finished in her mouth, forcing her to swallow what felt like gallons of the thick, salty, glop that gushed from him. She knew from experience that he liked her to not be able to swallow it all, and allowed some to pour from her mouth and dribble down her chin like the pureed food he sometimes fed her as she looked up at him and let his diminishing cock pop from her mouth. "Lizzy was naughty, Daddy, but Mommy was naughtier!" she protested. He smiled down at her, kneeling so he could scoop his seed from her chin with his finger and softly push it into her mouth. "Babies don't get to pass judgment on grownups, Lizzy." he told her. "When Mommy is-was," he corrected, thinking about the dead woman in the living room. "naughty, Daddy would punish her, right?" he asked. Lizzy nodded, remembering one time not long ago when Mommy had been kissed by Daddy's belt and had to sleep in the nursery with her. Lizzy remembered how hard her heart had been beating when she smelled the blood on the whip marks beneath the thick garment Mommy had been made to wear around her waist, she wondered now if Mommy had been afraid of Lizzy that night, knowing that nothing could stop the girl if she'd decided to give in to her more base desires. "Remember what Daddy said to you when he found you?" he asked as he picked her up under the armpits and hoisted her into his arms to cradle her like a real little baby as he gently rocked her, the smell of blood and piss and shit coming from her making him feel nauseous all over again. She remembered. It was Summer, and her real Daddy had taken her camping, showing her different methods for tracking and hunting and while they slept a hunter and his wife had shown up and killed her Daddy and shot her with a tranquilizer that knocked her out for hours. When she woke up they were dismembering the body of her Daddy, throwing the pieces into the fire while she watched in horror and anguish from the small cage they'd locked her in, her ankles and wrists shackled inside to allow next to no movement from her as she recoiled when the man knelt down in front of the cage and told her she was theirs now, and they'd take good care of her. They'd taken her to a vet that they knew in the nearby town and she'd been sedated once more, waking up to be told that she'd been fitted with a device that would kill her if she ever harmed either the hunter or his wife. She'd slashed the wife's throat in one swift motion and felt the thing in her neck twitch and grow hotter by the second, waiting for the merciful release of death, but that never came, she'd overheard that the device hadn't been calibrated fully and was tinkered with and declared to be fully operational before she was stuffed back into her cage and watched with smug satisfaction as the hunter mourned his wife and he and the vet disposed of the body. That night the hunter told her what was going to happen to her, he told her that he knew what she was and what she'd done, and that if she didn't want to end up tortured and left to starve to death she'd behave and submit to her new master, her new Daddy. He'd allowed her out of the cage but kept her shackled with her arms behind her back and educated her on how she was expected to behave. She'd reminded him of his wife, taunting him with malicious words about the joy she'd gotten from slitting the woman's throat. That was the first time she'd tasted his belt, ending with him strangling her with it until she blacked out, face down in the dirt, waking a short time later to him violating her backside while she howled in pain until he choked her again and stifled her protestations. Over the course of the next week he taught her, correcting her with force when she didn't perform her tasks to his satisfaction. She learned how to suck his cock, how to swallow all but a little of his seed, how to submit herself to having any hole he chose penetrated whenever he wanted and learned that when she behaved and did as she was told, she was rewarded with tenderness and something that evolved over the years into love. Sure, he whored her out to hunters that wanted a piece of evil pussy or ass, but if she behaved she was treated to a nice bath and a treat, usually a vagrant that he'd found and she'd be allowed to feed and would fall asleep with a full tummy cradled in her Daddy's arms just like before. When she'd slip and make a mess, they'd move, change cities and names and start over again somewhere else. This last place had been home for a long time, longer than she even knew given her relegation to her nursery outside of the parties. The house had been opened up into a spot where people with a very specific taste could come and indulge, and Lizzy was the star attraction. She'd be carted out to the living room and play with other little ones like her, pleasure Mommy's and Daddy's, submit to punishments of all kinds when the mood struck someone, and generally just be a living plaything for anyone that wanted to take part. Her new Mommy had taken great joy in making her suffer when Daddy wasn't around, refusing to clean her up for hours after being used as a sex toy or a toilet for the guests, slapping the girl and violating her many orifices with objects not suitable for doing so, like a fire poker or a bowling pin. Lizzy's accelerated healing meant that Daddy never saw the scars or the tears, he'd just come home and find Lizzy very clingy as she snuggled into him and cried. "I remember, Daddy." she told him quietly. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, whispering to her that she was a good girl. "I also remembered that the nasty little thing you put in my neck fell out a long time ago when Mommy made me be real small for an extra special customer." she told him quietly before she bit into his throat and ripped out his windpipe, dropping from his arms and landing in a prone position where she lunged at him and brought him down to the ground with a thunderous bang, perching on his chest as she looked down at him, watching the light in his eyes dim. She kissed his lips softly and giggled, "I had fun playing with you Daddy, but not Mommy and not her friends." she confessed. He gurgled and held his throat, bubbles of blood forming and popping between his fingers and in his mouth as he slipped away into death. "You killed my real Daddy, my whole wide world, and I wasn't ever going to let you live long enough to die peacefully." she told him as the last breath escaped him and he expired. Standing up, her skin writhed and morphed as she became the dead man she stood over, stretching her new form and popping her various joints and bones to make everything settle into the right place. She left the nursery and headed to the living room, smiling at the mess she'd made along the way and emptied the water from the glass on the bar and put a few ice cubes in it before pouring herself a drink. Lizzy had been born half a century ago to a Succubus and a Shapeshifter, gaining abilities and traits from both her mother and father. Her mother had died giving birth to her, but her father had raised her to use the abilities she'd been gifted with and had been murdered and butchered like an animal by her captor. As she downed her drink and poured another she thought about where she would go after so long in captivity, but with how much money she knew was hidden in the house, she didn't feel like she'd have any trouble finding a new life somewhere else, maybe somewhere tropical. She downed the second drink and stood up, giggling at the feeling of her new appendage swaying between her legs, taking a second to wiggle her hips and slap the thing against her thighs. "No wonder they love this thing, it's hilarious!" she said with another laugh as she went to the bedroom to get dressed and pack for her big move.
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