This is a continuation of the story I started last week. If
everything works out this will be an ongoing story. :)
**WARNING—this story is out
of my comfort zone, but I think that will make it quite interesting…hope it
draws you in. :)
Prompt: He was wearing
that ring…
Part 2
copyright © 2016 Havan
Fellows
Chapter Two
May 25, 1979
“Jesus, Mags, puff puff pass…what don’t you understand about that?” Chris Roland grabbed Maggie Talcott’s arm, jerking it toward him and snatching the roach from her
fingers. “I swear you bitches get dumber with every hit.”
Maggie swiped at the tears in her eyes, gathering the remains of her torn
skirt around her, trying for a decorum of modesty. “Maybe we need every hit we
can get to tolerate you…asshole,” she whispered, sure he wouldn’t
hear her through the fog in his brain. There wasn’t enough marijuana in the
state to obliterate her memory of this botched date. He was so charming when he
picked her up from her house, smoozing with her father and complimenting her
mother.
She’d heard the rumors about him but never gave much weight to what others
said. If she were to believe all the school gossip she’d have to believe the
lies about herself as well… People didn’t always take well to the rich
princess, especially if her looks didn’t equal her family’s status quo.
But she trusted Chris’s smile, his sweet words…
Sometimes gossip was harvested from truth. The key to the whole thing was
to know when to listen and when not to.
She should’ve listened.
No big deal, society overrated virginity anyway.
She brutally rubbed at the wetness rolling down her cheeks and accepted
the newly rolled joint from Chris as he ran his hand up her inner thigh…he was
wearing that ring, the one with the sharp corners that scraped her delicate
skin.
She didn’t bother wiping the newly formed tears, there would be plenty
more tonight.
***
August 22, 1979
“But mommy—” Maggie sobbed, covering her face with her hands. He couldn’t
expect her to…no, not her mother, she wouldn’t do this to her.
“Don’t you but mommy me,” her mother’s voice reverberated through the
room, perhaps through the whole neighborhood. “If he’s good enough for you to
spread your hussy legs for, he’s good enough for you to marry.” Mrs. Talcott glared at her only child, fury streaking across her face turning her cheeks and
nose red. “How dare you shame me like this. How dare you not tell me and expect
to stay living in my house…under my roof…and think you can keep this a secret
from me!”
Maggie widened her eyes, the truth of her mother’s words sinking in. She
wanted Maggie to marry Chris.
Maggie stepped back once…twice…shaking her head more violently with each
inch put between her and the woman who bore her. The one who was supposed to
love and protect her.
“You can’t possibly mean…mother I didn’t…you don’t understand…”
Her mother stalked closer, using the mere two-inch difference in their
height to her utmost advantage and towering over Maggie. “You didn’t what? Have
sex with him? Spread your legs and let him shove himself in you?” Maggie
covered her ears from the horrible things her mother uttered. “Oh honey, I
understand now, this is a case of the Virgin Mary revisited, is it? Well why
didn’t you say so, child?” The smile that broke over Mrs. Talcott’s face, the
evil glint of her eye, betrayed the sweet words she whispered in such a harsh
tone.
Maggie ran across the room to her father who nursed two fingers of
applejack—the cheap stuff he joked with his poker buddies was only good to go
on a bender with, not to be sipped and enjoyed.
“Daddy,” she pleaded, grabbing his arm.
He looked down at her, his eyes empty, his lips tilted down. They stared
at each other but she knew he didn’t see his fifteen-year-old daughter begging
for help. She imagined he saw his toddler baby girl wobbling through the foyer
running to him when he came home from work, or perhaps his six-year-old
princess trying to ride their Old English sheepdog.
What he definitely didn’t see in those hollow eyes was his innocent child
who desperately reached for the last person who could possibly protect her from
a fate worse than death.
Chris had already threatened to beat the baby out of her if she told
anyone. She didn’t mean for her mother to find out.
Her father reached down and with an achingly firm grip on her wrist, threw
her hand away from him. Without saying a word he swiveled his stance and
continued with his drink.
Maggie felt her mother’s claws on her shoulder and knew…her life was over.
***
“Do you see the despair in her
eyes. That man raped her and now he’s getting full access to ruin the rest of
her life.”
“Honestly, Sister, this is how things happen in the world. A man
impregnates a woman and then…I believe they call it a shotgun wedding. It isn’t
unheard of and I don’t understand what this has to do with Roane. You can’t
believe the minute amounts of marijuana she smoked during conception has
anything to do with the man who slaughtered those lives.” Brother sighed,
sitting on the gaudy purple velvet chaise lounge in the parlor where the Talcotts performance played out. He wanted to humor Sister, but he deemed this whole
storyline quite tedious.
“Patience, dear Brother, all will be revealed in time. Remember, this is
my experiment. Consider this the groundwork. Roane’s conception was far from
ideal.” Sister sat on the bench of the grand piano and waved her hand, the
cover on the keys lifted and pushed back, tucked out of the way. She winked at
him then proceeded to play chopsticks.
Brother laughed at the joy on Sister’s face as she played. The young
mother-to-be and her parents continued with their feud.
When the gloves were removed and the niceties erased, the mother calling
her daughter whore, the daughter calling her mother bitch, the father on his
third drink, Sister changed her ditty to Beethoven’s 5th Symphony, her fingers
flying over the keys, her smile never faltering.
The music accompanied the Talcott's bitter affair perfectly; finishing with
a violent face slap and fierce slamming of the door. Sister waved her hand over
the keys and the cover moved back into place. The only sound in the room was
Maggie huddled on the floor weeping, a child all out of hope and options.
“Well, that wasn’t interesting,” Brother sighed. He was quite certain that
would become a habit of his if Sister insisted on this path, which she would,
so he would.
“I happen to think I play that piece rather interestingly,” Sister
responded, standing and walking over to Maggie’s trembling body. “So you see,
the victims start even before Roane’s birth, but did they have to continue
afterwards?”
“Let’s find out, Sister. Is that our next stop, his birth?”
She squatted in front of Maggie, petting her head. “Soon. There is nothing
we can change here that will help my cause, but there is something later…” She
abruptly stood and held out her had to him.
Brother did hesitate to link their fingers. “Something later?” he prodded
her.
“Yes, we have one more stop before the joyous occasion of childbirth
happens.”
To be cont’d…
Here are the blogs of my
fellow orgiasts…see if they’ve got goodies for you. ;)
Hmmm... Still not sure what kind of creatures Brother and Sister are. Very interesting storyline.
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