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Benjamin
by Urs (fenrissilvern@yahoo.com)

***

Benjamin has no other direction in life but ruin now. 
(MF, nc, rp, oral, anal)

***

1. Night is a silent partner 

Benjamin's mother died well before midnight. All the 
fuss with the doctors, the confirmation, the papers, 
the transport of the body lasted only a couple of 
hours. When everybody left, Benjamin still had a long 
night in front of him and no idea what to do with it. 
He smoked and watched the cockroaches race each other 
across the ceiling.

His mother was barely alive the final weeks of her 
illness. In a way this was a huge relief. Benjamin 
sucked on his cigarette listening to the sounds of the 
city outside. The wailing of sirens, the faraway car 
engines roaring with impatience, the screeching of 
tires, the argument in Spanish coming from across half 
the town it seemed. The night went on as scheduled. 

There was nothing to eat in the fridge. Mother didn't 
eat the last several days and Benjamin didn't really 
eat at home lately. He didn't eat at all, lately. 

The last few days... It all blurred into one big, slow, 
frustrating scene with the same routines repeated over 
and over, the minutes of sleep interrupted with hours 
of dumb sitting around. The smell of soiled diapers and 
wet bed linen. He was used to it but still aware. 

His mother melted before his eyes, eaten from inside, 
her body preying upon itself in the desperate final 
attempt to extend time spent in this world. 

The sun went up as the voices subsided and the sound of 
car engines became dominant in the aural landscape of 
the city. Benjamin's head felt heavy, yet resting it on 
his chest and closing his eyes didn't bring the 
expected relief. No advancing tide of blissful sleep. 
On the contrary, closing his eyes only made him more 
aware of the sounds. They distracted him, made him 
painfully aware that there is no rest, no absolution 
from daily life. Just grind.

As the sun rose, the sounds changed. The singing of 
birds. The chatter of children. Music. Television. 
Their TV broke several days ago and Benjamin never had 
time to have it fixed. He was looking after his mother. 
And then she died. As everyone knew she would. 

He did his best. That's what he told himself. He did 
his best but his best was not good enough. He was never 
that good at taking care of people. Hell, come to think 
of it, he was really bad at taking care of himself 
either. Absentmindedly, he touched the scar that was 
splitting his left eyebrow in neat halves. People spend 
time in front of their mirrors with electric razors, 
carefully designing those stylish scars. Benjamin 
earned his the old fashioned way. He moved his finger 
further back up and felt another scar in his hair. It 
came as a free addition, no extra charge. 

He was no caregiver. Never imagined he'd be one. He was 
better at taking than giving, anyway and early in life 
he decided he should be caring only about himself. So 
there was a lot of irony and frustration going around 
the house these last months and weeks. 

He sucked one final long smoke from the cigarette 
before throwing it out of the window. He didn't switch 
the light off so the room looked strange with sunlight 
and electric light fighting for supremacy. He inspected 
his forearms, the tattoos looking old and worn out. 
They needed to be redone ages ago but there was always 
something else to be done and, frankly there was never 
any spare money lying around. He looked at the shelf 
near the now empty bed. A collection of little printed 
cardboard boxes and small brown bottles. Useless 
medication. 

It didn't save lives and now it was even more useless 
as there was no one here to take it. Perhaps he could 
sell it. He got up and took one of the medication 
bottles, trying to read the small print on the sticker. 
The light was supposed to be good but the letters 
looked like angry ants engaged in a vicious battle. He 
threw the bottle into the wall. The glass shattered and 
the pink pills flew upwards and sidewise briefly before 
remembering the law of gravity and obediently falling 
to the floor. 

He wiped all the remaining bottles and boxes off the 
shelf in one wide move. He ripped the shelf off and 
threw it into the wall. He stomped upon the bottles and 
boxes savagely, angrily until they were reduced to fine 
dust. It was supposed to make him feel better. 

Benjamin reached for another cigarette but was 
surprised to realise the box was empty. He was out. 


2. Out and down 

Setting out to buy cigarettes, Benjamin became 
distracted very quickly. His neighbour from across the 
street gave him a strange, sharp look as soon as he got 
out of the house. Benjamin thought of walking up to him 
and punching him. The tall, shorthaired father of a 
family across the street never made much effort to 
conceal his scorn for Benjamin. 

He was a veteran of the first gulf war and more than 
once Benjamin would hear him talk about his seven 
confirmed kills and the disappointment he would feel 
seeing what kind of people they were fighting, bleeding 
and dying for. More than once Benjamin felt the urge to 
kick him between the legs and head-butt him in the face 
and piss all over him. To teach him how to really 
bleed, he thought. But he never did it. 

He returned the look until the neighbour turned away to 
get back into the house and headed down the street. 
Skinny, smug piece of shit, thought Benjamin. 

He was in his first bar when his phone made a noise. It 
was 'raining blood' all over his pocket so it had to be 
Carla. He didn't feel like talking to her so he ignored 
the call. The people at other tables gave him the looks 
but he ignored them, sipping his drink. Not that Carla 
would give up. She knew him. She knew him better than 
he liked. The phone kept making excited sounds, all 
distorted guitars and martial drums. He picked it up on 
the third consecutive call.

"Hey..."

"Why aren't you picking up the phone, asshole?"

Benjamin didn't feel like talking to her. He told her 
that. The reaction he got was really bad. Carla was 
shouting insults at him. She was informing him of all 
the frustration he's caused her through his 
insensitive, careless treatment, of the way she felt, 
tired and disillusioned. She was also asking whether he 
knew what she was talking about and how long did he 
mean to keep it this way. 

Benjamin couldn't think of anything to say. Making an 
effort to think, even to say Carla's name aloud looked 
like too much to ask at the moment. So he just hung up 
on her and went back to his drink. 

The phone exploded with angry noise only a few seconds 
later. The looks of people around him started scanning 
him again. Nervously, ironically, inquiringly. 

Benjamin lifted the phone off the table and then 
smashed it against its surface, fiercely. It stopped 
making noise right away but Benjamin smashed it against 
the table again. And again. Then he threw it on to the 
floor and used his boots to grind it to pieces. 

The guy who was serving drinks wasn't too happy about 
this all taking place on his shift. 

"Hey, buddy, take that shit outside!! You hear me?"

Benjamin just looked at him, not saying anything.

"Fine, if that's how you want it, get ready to have 
your ass hauled out by cops."

The guy made his way back to the counter using 
straight, determined steps first. But then he started 
running, when he saw Benjamin coming after him. Some of 
the people at the bar started screaming when Benjamin 
threw the guy onto the floor and proceeded to punch him 
in the face. No one dared approach, though. No one 
dared speak to him when he got up, threw a five dollar 
bill into the guy's bloody face and walked out.

That was his first bar. By his third drink in the 
second bar he was feeling seriously angry. He needed 
more drinks. He needed drugs. He needed to smash stuff 
and hurt people. 

A skinny teenage girl made it obvious she is interested 
in him after he made obvious that he was carrying a wad 
of cash with him. She started bothering him to pay her 
a drink. Benjamin ignored her, drinking and blowing his 
smoke at the ceiling instead. She wouldn't go away 
though. She called him names that were supposed to make 
him feel attractive, she made clear what he could 
expect of her in exchange for some of that money he had 
on him. She touched his hair. He hasn't washed it in 
more than a week. She tried to sit in his lap. 

That was when he caught both her wrists and squeezed 
them tight together. 

"Aaaa, motherfucker, don't!!! You're hurting me!!!"

The little stupid bitch didn't even seem to have any 
protection. Benjamin got up and pulled her out in to 
the street while she struggled and screamed to be let 
go. He pulled her into a little street next to the bar 
and forced her to her knees. The people across just 
walked faster. 

"You wanted to do it, bitch? You wanted to do it? Let's 
do it, then!!"

She just kept screaming, trying to tear away from him, 
pulling away, trying to scratch him, to kick him, her 
thin legs fragile and weak. Benjamin slapped her hard, 
still holding on to her wrists. He slapped her again 
and again until her screaming sounded different. 
Better. 

"You're gonna suck my cock now, bitch. Let's see if 
you're as good as you were bragging!!!"

She did have protection after all. The skinny, dirty 
looking guy with a ridiculous moustache and an 
oversized coat came running from around the corner, a 
large baseball bat in his hands. 

"You motherfucker", he announced himself. "You are so 
stupid I almost feel sorry for your empty skull!!!"

He advanced a few steps before he froze in front of the 
barrel of Benjamin's gun. 

"Drop that thing, cockhead."

The pimp wasn't expecting Benjamin pulling out on him. 
He was hesitating, trying to assess whether Benjamin 
was really as fucked up as he looked and whether it'd 
make him pull the trigger. 

"You'll die, motherfucker", Benjamin said dryly. 

"OK, man, OK, it's cool, OK, we're cool." The pimp 
dropped the bat and raised his hands, trying to make 
things look more like business and less like insanity. 
"It's cool, we'll work it out. What'd the bitch do to 
you man? She ripped you off, man? I'm gonna skin her 
for that man, trust me. You gonna be satisfied in the 
end, man, trust me."

Benjamin let the girl go and stepped up to the pimp, 
his arm extended in front of him, his gun acting like 
some kind of strange guiding force. He put the barrel 
on the man's chest and pushed him into the wall. The 
pimp was sweating, his moustache looking really bad 
from up close.

"It's OK, man, it's OK..."

The girl got up and took off without a word. Just the 
sound of her bare feet on the sidewalk, her sandals 
left lying on the ground. Benjamin pinned the pimp 
against the wall like a butterfly collector adding his 
latest kill to the cushion. 

"man..." whispered the pimp.

"Did you imagine you'd die today when you got up this 
morning?"

The man trembled and pleaded.

Benjamin hit him across the face with the gun. The pimp 
fell down and rolled on the sidewalk, putting his hands 
over his face. Benjamin kicked him in the ribs, 
savagely and proceeded kicking him anywhere where he 
could see an opening, cursing in the process. The man 
was quiet most of the time, trying to roll with the 
kicks and minimize the damage.


3. Damage out of control

Benjamin's mother named him after Ben Franklin. She 
wanted him to do great deeds, she had told him. His 
mother was so proud of him when he was little. Benjamin 
grew up to be a large human being but great deeds never 
happened. Benjamin had plans and, well, dreams, but he 
never did anything great in his life. 

Smalltimer. That's what Carla's been calling him when 
she wanted to hurt him. She knew him well. She would 
laugh that annoying laugh of hers as well. Benjamin 
would hit Carla sometimes. He never gave her any 
serious injuries, but it was not uncommon for their 
arguments to finish in her getting her due. 

Benjamin was in and out of small deals, small jobs and 
small schemes all his life. He's been dealing with 
small people with short vision and bad planning skills.

Benjamin has been in and out of several different bars 
over the course of the next several hours. He left a 
formidable trail of damage, anger and fear behind him. 
He kept smashing property and hurting people, screaming 
at them, pulling his gun on them. 

A bartender in one of the bars had a glass smashed 
against his face. A girl in the street was thrown 
against her car then punched two times until she 
collapsed to the sidewalk while Benjamin kept kicking 
the side of her car, then smashing its windows with a 
piece of a pipe. 

He kept drinking as well.

Too restless, moving too quickly from place to place, 
he somehow managed not to be apprehended by any law 
enforcement officers that surely someone had to have 
called. Miraculously, not even local gangs reacted 
quickly enough against someone who was obviously 
causing trouble for the sake of it and messing with 
their property. 

He moved on, like a demented hurricane angel, bleeding 
pain and destruction left and right, never staying in 
one place long enough to cool off. 

A bouncer in one of the bars managed to land a lucky 
punch on Benjamin's face. Benjamin went blind in his 
right eye for several minutes. He knocked the man's 
front teeth out with his gun, then forced him to his 
knees and, standing behind him, the gun pointed at the 
back of his head, with a couple of girls screaming 
behind them, he kicked him into kidneys, hard. Then, 
when the man fell to the floor, convulsing from the 
pain and shock, trying to protect his back, Benjamin 
stepped on his arm and broke his hand under his boot. 

Some people got beaten because they gave him funny 
looks. They didn't like his appearance, he messed them 
up. A nerdy looking college student was made to kneel 
in front of his girlfriend and beg for his life as 
Benjamin repeatedly hit him in the face with his gun. 
The girl kept screaming. He told her to shut up then 
when she didn't he punched her and broke her glasses 
with his fist. The blood came out of her nose as she 
backed off into the wall, trying to protect her face 
and still screaming. 

It has been several hours. Benjamin was very drunk and 
most of his money was gone. His face was swollen and 
his sleeveless Slayer T-shirt stained. The black 
teenager in the back of the room looked like a pusher 
and Benjamin thought that he should score some drugs. 

He waited until the kid looked his way and lifted his 
fist, clutching at his remaining dollar bills. The kid 
gave him a barely visible nod and made a businesslike 
walk towards the door. Benjamin left the money for his 
drink on the table (no tip) and followed.

The kid was waiting for him in the nearby building 
entrance. It was dark even in daylight and it stank of 
garbage and urine. 

"You a cop, man?" the kid asked eyeing Benjamin's 
drunken swaying. 

He knew Benjamin was not a cop. Still, force of habit 
prevailed. Benjamin shrugged.

"I look like a cop, retard?" The kid stayed silent. 
Rules are rules, after all. Benjamin sighed. "No. I am 
not a cop. OK?"

"What you looking for, man? Eh? What you looking for?"

The dance has started and Benjamin knew all the steps. 

"What you got?"

"Man, I got everything. I got rocks, I got pills, I got 
speed, I got white, I got brown. I'm here to make your 
dreams come true, baby, just name your price range."

Benjamin grinned. One of his teeth hurt, someone's fist 
connected in the previous bar. Benjamin was pretty sure 
he broke the nose of the person in question, hitting 
them with his head.

"The money's no problem, dude, show me the best you 
got."

"Show me the money first, baby, let's see you put some 
money where your mouth is."

The kid knew the dance too, OK. 

"You bullshitting me, nigga? You saying you don't trust 
me?"

The kid's face started looking like he'd bitten into a 
rotten apple. 

"Man, you know it, show the brother some money so he 
sees you're a serious customer."

"You got coke?" Benjamin asked, changing the subject.

"Man, I got coke that will make all your life so far 
look like a bad dream. You ain't never tried something 
like this. But let the brother see some good will notes 
first."

Benjamin pulled the money out of his pocket, a mess of 
pieces paper barely enough to buy another drink or two 
in a cheap bar. He showed the money to the kid who 
started frowning.

That is when Benjamin pulled his gun out and pointed it 
to the boy's face. He grinned to himself, because he 
was positioned so well that there was no way the kid 
could make a run past him, for the street or the 
staircase. 

"I think, nigga that you'll find that money is more 
than enough, now out with that cocaine before I make 
your life and your dreams end here."

"Man, fuck this shit, man!!!" exclaimed the pusher, 
equally frustrated, angry and scared. This probably was 
not the first time for him to have to face gaping 
barrel of a gun, but something about Benjamin suggested 
that any bets he might be placing in his head were off 
from the word go. 

"You're fucked, man, you're fucked. You have no fucking 
idea who I work for, man. If you knew you'd be already 
running so quickly, your ass would be bleeding from all 
the kicking it got from your heels." The kid was trying 
to back off while shaking his head in disgust and fear. 
Benjamin stepped up.

"If you think I prefer searching your corpse for the 
goods, well, then, I don't want to disappoint you."

"Fuck it, man, fuck it, man" the kid spoke nervously as 
Benjamin's gun got nearer his face. "OK, wait man, 
wait, you get the goods man, OK, it's on the house 
man."

Slowly, he fished a small package out of the pocket of 
his jacket with two fingers of his left hand.

"OK, man? OK? Here it is man, straight from Columbia 
man, here." He slowly handed the bag to Benjamin who 
was still grinning. "Make your nose happy man, make it 
sing beautiful songs about love and harmony, man."

Benjamin took the package and then caught the boy's 
hand, then twisted his arm viciously. The kid screamed 
and fell to his knees. Benjamin kept twisting his arm 
while still pointing the gun into his face.

"You little shit... You... little... shit..."

"Aaaaa, man, nnooooo!! Man, let me go, you can have it 
all, man, noooooo!!!!"

The kid probably thought Benjamin also wanted his 
money. But Benjamin didn't even remember to ask for 
money. Benjamin just kept twisting the kid's arm 
because he enjoyed his screaming and the look of agony 
on his face. He kicked him in the face, hard and the 
kid fell over, his arm already broken. Benjamin spat on 
him and gave him another kick in the ribs before 
leaving. For the moment he felt better. For the moment, 
he felt successful, he felt as if he had a purpose he 
reached. He felt content and safe. When he was a kid 
this feeling could last for days. Now he had to be 
satisfied with mere moments. 


4. Moments of beauty

The cocaine was very bad. Back home, Benjamin wished 
the kid was here so he could kick his face until it 
sprayed blood all over the floor. The cocaine was shit 
and the euphoria never really materialised. There was 
some pain in his head and some sense of confused 
elation but that could have been just the effects of 
alcohol, sleep deprivation and adrenaline overdose. 

Benjamin found some pills in the pocket of the jacket 
hanging in his bedroom. He washed them down with the 
last drops of scotch in a bottle that reminded him of 
some better times. 

Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, inspecting 
his face for bruises and cuts (and there were new ones 
indeed) he noticed how dirty his hair was. He touched 
it with his fingers, then let the water run and 
splashed some of it on his head. 

He fished the razor out and started removing the hair. 
It took him almost forty five minutes as his vision 
blurred and got back to focus, as his hands shook and 
as the razor kept splitting the skin with surrealistic 
ease, causing bleeding from half a dozen of small, 
shallow cuts. 

Then he put the jacket on. First, he looked for a clean 
shirt but apparently there were none so he stayed in 
the one he was wearing all day. He did run into his 
handcuffs under the bed. There was that pair there, the 
one he purchased last year when he tried to persuade 
Carla into allowing him to tie her up during sex. He 
put them into his pocket. He burped. The bitch had it 
coming for a long while. The bitch had it coming for 
ages. 

There was nothing better to do, really. He didn't eat 
anything for longer than he could remember. The day 
seemed to have no end. Benjamin didn't even know for 
sure what time of the day it was.

He left the house and slammed the door behind him. His 
neighbour was outside too and the noise made him turn 
his head Benjamin's way. His face was not happy. It 
never was.

"Hey, neighbour!!" The man gestured at Benjamin to come 
closer. It was a rigid, impatient gesture that Benjamin 
associated with his late uncle. He looked the man's way 
but didn't stop.

"I found a rat the size of a pony in my backyard this 
morning, neighbour."

Benjamin thought about this. The tone of the man's 
voice made it sound as if he should be interested.

"Why should I give a fuck... neighbour? You need pest 
control? The phonebook is available online, you know."

The man spoke just the way Benjamin's uncle used to. 
Calmly, rigidly. Discipline above all. Accusation being 
practically his second nature. 

"I think it came from your basement, neighbour. I've 
been watching you pile junk in your yard and house for 
quite some time. I've been telling your mother for a 
long while that's not the way you want to live."

Benjamin had no idea what to say. The man, however 
seemed to have remembered something.

"By the way." He looked Benjamin in the eyes and 
extended his arm. The first time ever he made an 
attempt to get in physical contact. "I have heard about 
your mother. I am sorry."

Benjamin looked at the man's hand, waiting for his. He 
could practically hear the man's thoughts. He was 
standing in front of an ex-soldier, father of two girls 
and a respected person across the board in this 
neighbourhood. He was standing with his head freshly 
shaved, his T-shirt covered with bloodstains, mostly 
from other people and his face all wild and bruised. He 
looked at the man silently offering to shake his hand. 

The man almost broke in half when Benjamin's boot hit 
his groin. It felt good. 

He watched his neighbour collapse on the lawn and 
thought how one thing leads to another. 

The sun was already setting. The day was, miraculously 
coming to a close. The neighbourhood felt somehow happy 
and euphoric. 

Benjamin descended on the man and proceeded to punch 
him in the face. The man fought back the best he could 
which was not much. He even managed to get a swing at 
Benjamin's face, but, in his current state Benjamin 
felt no pain. He punched the man several more times and 
then got his gun out. 

The sound of metal hitting bone was good and loud. The 
blood followed obediently from the man's forehead. 

"Now, you pussy, now you and I will have a proper 
conversation." Benjamin's grin was back on his face. 
The day hasn't finished yet. 

"Turn around!!! Turn the fuck around!!!" He helped the 
man by kicking him into ribs, hard. "Now get your 
fucking hands on your back!!!!"

The man cursed but could barely get enough air into his 
lungs. 

"I'm going to fucking kill you right here and now, you 
fucking cocksucker! Get your fucking hands on your back 
now!!!!"

Benjamin put the barrel of his gun on the back of the 
man's head and pulled his arms behind his back. 

"Keep them there if you want to ever see sunrise 
again."

The cuffs clicked. That was a satisfying sound. 

"Get up!!" Benjamin pulled the man up by his arms. The 
man stumbled, trying to rise. "Get the fuck up you 
piece of shit!!!"

He pulled him across the lawn, towards the house as the 
man tried to keep pace. He threw him into the door and 
proceeded to kick him on the floor. 

"You like that? You like that, motherfucker? You've 
been calling me names and giving me shit since forever 
man, now it's payback time!!!"

The man tried to get up but Benjamin kicked him in the 
small of his back. Then he grabbed his collar and threw 
him face-first into the glass door to the living room.

The sound of shattering glass was another satisfying 
element. 

Benjamin pushed the man's bloody head back to the wall. 
He put the gun in the man's mouth.

"Now you and I have a little chat, fucko! Now I get to 
choose topics for conversation, instead of you always 
calling me trash and bastard."

He uncuffed the man, keeping the barrel of the gun in 
his mouth all the time, then cuffed him again, but this 
time making sure the cuffs were attached to the pipe in 
the wall. 

"You have no idea, you dick, you have no idea how long 
I wanted to do this."

Benjamin was kneeling near the man, talking to his 
face. His head was spinning slightly in this position 
but he loved being this close to his victim. He knew 
the man could smell his sweat.

"So," he pulled the gun out of the man's mouth but kept 
it pointed into his face. "I don't think we've ever 
been properly introduced. My name's Ben. What's yours?"

The man managed to get some of his composure. But then 
he looked past Benjamin and his eyes went wide. 

Benjamin turned his head and saw the man's wife 
standing in the door. Benjamin never talked to her 
before. She never addressed him and he could never even 
overhear her mentioning him in any of the conversations 
with the neighbours. 

She was a little old for Benjamin's taste. In her late 
forties or even early fifties she still had the good, 
strong figure, two births she had given rounding her up 
but not ruining her looks. She was tall, assertive and 
intelligent looking. 

Seeing her husband beaten, bloody and restrained she 
stood frozen for a couple of seconds and then started 
backing off. Benjamin pointed the gun at her. 

"I think you want to join this little party, lady. 
Please, do us the honour."

The woman stood silent. Her options were limited. 
Perhaps she could outrun the bullet. But that was still 
leaving her husband at the mercy of a lunatic in their 
living room. Quietly, she raised her arms in a calming 
motion.

"It's OK, Benjamin, it's OK. I am not going anywhere." 
She slowly walked into the room, making sure not to 
startle him with any sudden gestures.

She knew Benjamin's name. That was a surprise. He 
motioned to her to get on the sofa. Now he could talk 
to her husband and still keep an eye on her. 

"Sit down there, lady." She complied but she didn't 
show much fear. She sat down, neatly placing her long 
legs together. "Who else is in the house?"

"The girls are both at their aunt's. "

Her reply was indirect. The information required him to 
think. He grinned. Then he turned his attention to the 
man on the floor again. 

"So, mister, where were we? Oh, right, right, I was 
just about to splatter your fucking brains all over the 
wallpaper there."

"Benjamin!!!" exclaimed the wife, as if to stand up.

"Get down bitch!!!" She complied. She stayed silent but 
her face WAS worried. That had value. 

"You know, you still haven't told me your name, moron. 
Was that a difficult question for you?"

The man looked up at Benjamin.

"I don't know how you possibly can think you'll get 
away with this. You..."

Benjamin's fist slammed into his face before he could 
finish. 

"Why not stay on topic here, man, eh? I asked you 
something!!!!"

"Jeremy!! It's Jeremy, for God's sake!!!"

The wife was the smart one after all. 

"Jeremy, eh? Like that song?"

The man blinked. There was no recognition in that look. 

"Nevermind, fucko, your wifey seems to be a little more 
intelligent than you anyway."

"Helen. My name is Helen, Benjamin, we were introduced 
to each other, don't you remember?"

Benjamin looked at the woman, this time making an 
effort to focus his eyes. Sure, he knew Helen, he 
thought. He knew her face and her body. He knew the way 
she walks and the way she laughs when her daughters do 
something silly. For the life of him, though he 
couldn't remember he ever knew her name. Much less 
being introduced to her. He couldn't even imagine her 
talking to him. 

"No... I don't." He closed his eyes and then opened 
them remembering the helpless man in front of him.

"So... Jeremy... mister war veteran, mister seven-
confirmed-kills, it's very nice to finally have the 
chance to meet you inside this cosy home and beat the 
living crap out of your ugly fucking face."

The man was still scared but at the same time it looked 
as if the rage was building up inside of him. After 
all, Benjamin WAS trash. With a gun, yes, but still 
trash.

"You'll never get away with this. You fucking retarded 
basehead. You'll end up in prison fucked in the ass so 
hard you'll be coughing blood for the rest of your 
life."

"Jeremy!! Don't..." Helen didn't move but her voice 
rose in fear.

Benjamin laughed. The first good laugh he had in days. 
It felt so... liberating. To be talking with people 
like this. To be able to hurt them whenever he wants.

"You're one dumb piece of shit, Jeremy. I have been in 
prison more times than you've taken dump, you stupidass 
motherfucker. You think you can scare me off with your 
stupid fairytales?"

Benjamin placed the barrel of the gun on Jeremy's 
forehead.

"Tell me, mister war hero, if I pull the trigger now 
and paint this wall here all red and brown with your 
fucking blood and brains, will that go down as a 
confirmed kill?"

"Fuck you", uttered the man, his jaws tightly closed.

"Come on, Jeremy, you're the expert here, I never did 
time for murder and you have seven confirmed ones in 
your stellar war record. That must be making you feel 
proud, eh?"

"What the fuck is this? Who the fuck are you to judge 
me, you piece of dirt?" Jeremy breathed hard between 
sentences.

Helen's face was serious. There was no fear on it as 
much as sadness.

"I'm not judging you, motherfucker. I don't fucking 
care, you idiot. I have my gun right where I want it, I 
have YOU right where I want you and I have my finger 
right where I need it. The shit couldn't be more 
perfect if God and Carmen Electra happened to drop by 
to give me a foot-massage and a free blowjob."

Benjamin leaned closer towards Jeremy.

"You get it, motherfucker? There is no fucking agenda 
behind this. No fucking reason, no fucking room for 
negotiation. This is what I wanted to do for ages. I 
own your life now, it is one simple gesture away from 
being ended. Do you know how that feels?"

He pressed the gun against Jeremy's forehead, hard. He 
kept pressing as Jeremy tried to push back, all the way 
through the wall. 

"It feels GREAT, man, that's how it feels. But of 
course you know that, mister I-liberated-Iraq-for-you-
bitches-and-you-don't-even-know-what-freedom-is-good-
for. Of course you know that, you have not one but 
seven delicious confirmed kills, don't you? DON'T 
YOU!!!!!"

The last two words came out as a savage, animalistic 
shriek. Jeremy squirmed.

"yes..." he whispered, breathing hard. "I... do."

"Do you know any of their names, motherfucker? Do you? 
Can you tell me any of the names of the people you iced 
back in Desert Storm?" Benjamin's anger grew. It never 
went away, it just developed new muscles.

"no... no..." Jeremy whispered.

"I wonder if that makes me any better than you, 
asshole." Benjamin increased the pressure. The finger 
on the trigger itched. The moment could last forever 
for all he cared. Things like this are too good to be 
squandered just like that.

Then Helen stood up.

"Benjamin... You don't have to do this."

He looked her way but didn't tell her to sit down. 

"Woman, you have no idea how badly I have to do this. 
It's like I was fucking born just so I could do this."

Helen shook her head, straightening her skirt. 

"No. I know what you really want to do."

Benjamin raised an eyebrow.

"I know what you wanted to do for a long time. I know 
what you came here for."

There was something in what she was saying but Benjamin 
was too smashed up to really try to think.

"Suppose you could tell me as well? I am intrigued now, 
you know."

"Yes, I can tell you because you're holding my husband 
at gunpoint and threatening to kill him." Helen's voice 
trembled slightly but she was in control. "I can tell 
you that you came here because you want to fuck me."

Benjamin thought the blood in his brain had started to 
run backwards because his thoughts suddenly started 
behaving like characters from some underground comic 
whose author enjoyed working on acid. 

"I am not stupid, Benjamin. I have seen the way you 
look at me, whenever you see me. I know you wanted this 
for such a long time."

"Lady, I just lost my mother, you think I even know 
what I am doing here?"

"Benjamin." She addressed him firmly. Not sarcastically 
or impatiently. "Please. Please be reasonable. You 
don't want to kill my husband. Whatever he might have 
said to you, whatever you think he may be accusing you 
of, he is not a bad person. You didn't come here to 
kill him, Benjamin. You came here because of me. 
Please, Benjamin."

The confusion. It was never welcome. It always made him 
want to smash stuff. Break stuff. Bones and stuff. But 
right now, right now this confusion... It was 
different. 

"Benjamin, you came here because you have wanted to 
fuck me since forever, I know that. Please don't kill 
my husband."

Benjamin realised he needed the time to think. One 
thing he didn't have. Helen kept talking.

"Please Benjamin. I..." she hesitated. "I... You can 
fuck me. You can take me here and now, use me any way 
you want. Please, fuck me, do anything you want to me. 
Just don't... don't kill my husband..." Her voice 
trailed off into silence at the end of the sentence. 
She stood above Benjamin, her eyes filling with tears.

Benjamin was fucked up. He had years of aimless 
wandering through life concluding with weeks of futile 
efforts, culminating in hours of senseless violence. He 
was drunk and he took more drugs than he could name. 
Helen's words made no sense. They came from a universe 
beyond any universe he could ever claim knowing. They 
did something strange to his body but he didn't even 
have a word for that. 

"Helen..." whispered Jeremy in a weak voice.

"Shut up Jeremy, please!!!" Helen's voice was on the 
verge of falling apart. "Just shut up. I can almost 
pretend I can do this. Just shut up."

"Helen, don't..." Jeremy managed to raise his voice and 
automatically, Benjamin hit him with the gun.

"Jeremy!!!" screamed Helen. "I said shut up!!! Don't 
you understand!!!! He will kill you!!! He will kill you 
and I'll be left alone forever Jeremy!!!!! Don't do 
this to me, Jeremy, don't do this to me if you love our 
children!!!!"

Benjamin got up. He didn't need any more time to think. 
The effort would be wasted anyway.

"Woman..." he hesitated, trying to think what to say 
next. "You're a bigger slut than I ever imagined you'd 
be." Yeah, that was as good as anything else. Benjamin 
shrugged. "But if Jerry here doesn't mind, I'm ready to 
give you a shot."

"You piece of scum!!! Get away from my fucking 
wife!!!!!! I'll tear your throat out!!!!!" Jeremy tried 
to kick Benjamin from his place on the floor but 
Benjamin kicked him into the groin instead and then 
once again in the face.

Helen placed her hand on Benjamin's shoulder. She 
squeezed him really hard. He turned her way and saw 
tears coming out of her eyes. 

"Please... Please... just take me... leave him..."

Was this love? Benjamin couldn't figure out. Not that 
he cared that much after all. This was all still very 
surprising and strange. He grinned.

"Woman, I should probably tell you that I have taken 
every drug known to man in the last twelve hours. Right 
now I am not even sure I feel most of my body. You're 
welcome to try and remind me which part goes where but 
as soon as I feel bored, the hubby gets it."

Helen didn't answer. Her hand was still squeezing his 
shoulder, hard. She motioned them towards the door, but 
Benjamin stopped her.

"No. Here."

She shook her head.

"Not here... Not here... I can't..."

"Hey, I don't give a fuck, this is my show. You're just 
an extra here, right? You don't like it, get the fuck 
out so me and Jeremy can talk man to man." It felt 
good, it felt good.

"Please..." her voice broke but she managed to get it 
back almost instantly. "Please, not here, not in front 
of my husband."

"Lady, either you start giving my cock some attention 
right now or I blow a hole in your husband – it's as 
simple as that."

Benjamin motioned her to the sofa. He sat there and she 
placed herself next to him. Making himself comfortable 
Benjamin smiled. She was not going to be able to do 
anything. His body was almost checking out. The feel of 
the sofa was too good. He was not in the mood for love. 
He was floating between spaces. 

"Get my cock out."

Her hand on his combat trousers produced no reaction. 
She pulled the boxers down next and was holding his 
limp cock seconds after. 

"Come on, baby, let's see what and old broad like you 
can show to the new generation."

He wasn't supposed to feel anything. Yes, Helen was a 
sexy woman. Yes, he found her attractive. And, yes, he 
masturbated sometimes thinking of her. But he was so 
full of chemicals right now it wasn't even funny. 

Still, when Helen brought her face down and sucked his 
soft dick into her mouth, there was a shadow that moved 
in the back of Benjamin's mind. The look of it all was 
satisfying in the first place, her neat hair covering 
his lap, then there was that warm hand on his thigh. He 
realised her smell was good as well. There was a name 
for that perfume too, probably something sounding like 
some Japanese martial art...

She moved her head up and down, using her right hand to 
stroke his balls. Benjamin stayed soft and kept 
grinning. He closed his eyes just so he can open them 
again and witness this unbelievable thing happening to 
him all over again. He put the barrel of the gun at the 
side of her head.

Helen stopped sucking him and looked up.

"There's no need for that, Benjamin. I'll be good, I 
promise."

The voice was soft. Deep and rich and... submissive. He 
smiled, but this was somehow a different smile. His 
facial muscles felt different. 

"This is just... for me, you understand?"

She nodded. She understood.

"I understand, Ben. I understand." She stroked his cock 
slowly. "Do you like this? Does this feel good?"

Benjamin started laughing and then coughing. The 
absurdity of it all. 

"I don't know, woman. I don't know how that feels. I 
have no fucking idea how that feels."

She started sucking him again, even slower than before. 
Benjamin touched her with his gun, then traced the 
shape of her head, down her neck. Gently...

"Helen, for the love of God, NO!" screamed Jeremy from 
his corner. His voice was helpless, angry, frustrated, 
scared, all at the same time. Benjamin thought to 
himself: this DOES feel good. He grabbed Helen's hair 
and started pushing her head onto his cock harder. He 
was still limp but that felt good. 

Then he heard her. First it was just sucking noises her 
mouth made on his penis, but then came the soft moan. 
She didn't protest against his gun, she didn't protest 
against his rough treatment. Instead she moaned in a 
low, barely audible voice. 

Then the miracle started happening. Benjamin felt. 
Benjamin felt good. Benjamin felt better and better. 
Benjamin felt becoming hard.


5. Hardcore 

Jeremy was kicking and screaming, trying to rip the 
pipe from the wall and break free. His wife was 
swallowing what was now visibly a hard, large penis. 
Benjamin started breathing heavily. 

"Agh... woman... Unhhhhh..." He was shocked himself. 
Normally, in the state he was, erection could be just a 
distant memory. "You fucking slut.... Aghhh... swallow 
that cock, swallow it!!!"

The woman continued her slow, sexy, methodical assault 
on his penis. As it grew bigger, she placed her fingers 
on its lower half. Now, every time her head went up, 
her fingers followed and the other way round.

Benjamin was getting harder and bigger. And 
progressively more and more confused. He didn't have 
any plans for the day. He didn't have any plans for the 
rest of his life. The things just happened. He just 
threw himself into anything that was standing in his 
way. Things broke. But this... This was beyond anything 
he could even imagine.

He let go of the gun. He needed both his hands. He 
placed them on the back of Helen's head and started 
pushing down. At the same time, he started making short 
thrusts upwards with his hips. 

Helen instinctively tried to back off when Benjamin's 
swollen cockhead slid into her throat. But Benjamin 
wouldn't let her. He removed her hand from his cock. He 
kept her head firmly down and moved his hips. The 
efforts she made to get her head up made it feel even 
better to him. He was still strong enough to keep a 
woman down and it was a good feeling. 

He proceeded to fuck Helen's mouth, pushing his cock 
into her throat while simultaneously moving her head up 
and down with his hands. He was in complete control, 
Helen was now only trying to accommodate herself the 
best she could. She was now making loud noises. Her 
breathing was heavy and irregular. She gagged, loudly, 
as Benjamin pushed his entire penis inside, leaving 
only his balls unattended. He pulled her head up, his 
cock falling out of her open mouth, covered with her 
spit and his precum.

"You love this, Helen, don't you?" he asked jovially. 

She didn't answer. She was struggling to get enough air 
before what she knew must follow. But Benjamin was 
feeling so good he wanted her to answer.

"Tell me, please, I am very curious. Do you ever suck 
Jeremy's cock with such enthusiasm?"

Helen shook her head with a sad expression on her face, 
her eyes full of tears. Her voice was deep and soft.

"Please, Ben, please, you don't have to do that..."

Benjamin grinned. He didn't have to but he loved it.

"Please, I'll do anything you want..."

This made him feel even better. She'll do anything he 
wants!! 

"OK, woman. OK. Then let me see those tits."

"You want to see my breasts? Alright, Ben, I'll grant 
you your wish."

Helen started unbuttoning her shirt but Benjamin caught 
her wrist. 

"No, no, no, no, I want you to do it slowly, with feel. 
You have to entertain me. Otherwise it's back to 
hurting your hubby."

She looked at him but didn't say anything. Behind them, 
her husband screamed.

She continued unbuttoning her shirt but now her moves 
were slow, deliberate. Benjamin started stroking his 
penis, enjoying the show. 

"That's it, woman, let me see those old tits."

Helen removed the shirt and Benjamin could see her 
large, motherly breasts trapped inside a rich, white, 
bra. 

"That's an impressive rack you have there, Helen."

The woman looked at him. It was a strange look that he 
couldn't quite figure out. Then again, he did give her 
a compliment. That was strange as well. 

"I'm going to fucking kill you, I'm going to fucking 
kill you, motherfucker!!!" screamed Jeremy from his 
place on the floor. Benjamin ignored him. The show in 
front of his eyes was occupying his attention. 

"Out with them, come on!!" He demanded it in a cheerful 
voice, like a child on a Christmas morning impatient to 
see the gifts. 

Helen started taking the bra off. But the way she did 
it made Benjamin almost gasp from excitement. She 
pulled the left strap down from her shoulder but then 
she pushed her hand into the bra cup and pulled her 
large, heavy tit out.

"Holy shit, woman..." He watched as she absentmindedly 
stroked her nipple between the tips of her index finger 
and her thumb. No doubt, she has been doing similar 
shows for others (husband?) before. And she took 
Benjamin's request to be entertained seriously. 
Benjamin was entertained. Seduced even. 

She fished her other tit out as well, then placed her 
hands on the sides of both tits and brought them 
together. She looked into Benjamin's eyes. 

"Do you like them?" Her voice was very low. Benjamin 
thought that she perhaps didn't want her husband to 
hear their conversation. But that was hardly possible, 
being that they were all in one room, not far from each 
other. However, his shouting was probably a safety 
blanket of sorts. 

"God, woman... I had no idea you were such a slut." 
Instead of replying to her question, he grabbed her 
breast and started massaging it. It felt good. It was 
softer than Carla's, but so... full. So rich. He 
squeezed her nipple between his fingers. Helen 
flinched. Benjamin squeezed harder. 

"God..." her whisper was urgent. Hurt. 

"Does that hurt?" Benjamin loved this. He loved it.

Helen nodded, biting her lip. He maintained the 
pressure. She squirmed. 

"Ben... you're hurting me..."

"You want me to stop?" He asked this in an innocent, 
almost childish way.

"...please..." she exhaled loudly as he twisted the 
nipple, savagely. "Please, stop..."

Benjamin didn't feel like stopping. When Helen tried to 
move his hands away from her breasts, he slapped her. 

It was not a hard slap, especially in comparison with 
the levels of violence Benjamin demonstrated himself 
capable of during the day. Still, it made her head snap 
violently to the right and it made her hair fall over 
her face. Benjamin thought this made her even sexier. 

"I'm in charge here, woman... Is that clear enough?"

Helen looked at him through her hair. There were tears 
coming out of her eyes, smearing her makeup a bit. She 
nodded.

"...yes... it's clear..."

Benjamin smiled. 

"Good. So try not to forget that. Not only there's more 
where that one slap came from, but also, remember that 
I get bored easily. You stop making me happy and I'm 
back to teaching your husband how to perform orally on 
a gun!"

"...God... you don't have to be like that... I'll do 
everything... I told you..."

"Helen!!!" screamed Jeremy.

They both ignored him. Benjamin pulled Helen by the 
hair, so that she leaned his way. He placed his penis 
between her breasts and instructed her to bring them 
together so it was fitting tightly. Then he started 
moving it up and down.

"Spit on it" he ordered. He didn't want friction 
ruining his pleasure. It was a long time since he was 
this hard and he wanted every bit of fun he could get 
out of it. 

Watching Helen spit on his cock, trapped firmly between 
her tits was certainly fun. She knew why he demanded it 
and made sure to spread the saliva along the length of 
his member with the palm of her hand. Then she pressed 
her breasts together and started moving in synch with 
his pelvis thrusts. Benjamin's eyes went wide. This was 
much better than... well than anything he could 
remember about his life so far. Like a Christmas 
morning that really lived to expectations. 

"Suck on the head" he said.

She obeyed without words. She made herself more 
comfortable in her kneeling position on the floor, got 
her head down and started licking and kissing his 
swollen cockhead. Then she made the additional effort, 
pushed her head down a bit more and opened her mouth. 
Now he would dip his cock into her mouth with every 
thrust. 

"Man, to think I thought you people were completely 
useless... Jeremy, I don't know if it was you teaching 
this slut how to give head but, man, SOMEBODY did a 
good job!!!"

Jeremy was choking in anger.

"You fuck... You fuck!!! You're dead!!! You're fucking 
dead!!!"

Benjamin laughed and waved his both hands at Jeremy. 
Then he ceremoniously placed them on the back of 
Helen's head and started pushing it down again. 

The woman gagged on his penis, trying to back away, but 
Benjamin was not letting go. He enjoyed the sound of 
his victim fighting for breath and trying not to puke, 
the feel of his penis violating her throat, triggering 
the gag reflex, savaging her in the place where it was 
never meant to be.

"That's it, baby, that's it, Helen, take it all the way 
in... All the way down to those fucking balls... That's 
it, be a good slut... I bet old Jeremy never had the 
courage to stick it all the way in, eh? Lucky you ran 
into me to finally make your fantasies come true, eh?"

He pulled out, letting Helen have a few moments to 
catch her breath. He pulled her head up and enjoyed the 
look on her face. The total helplessness, the fear, 
pain and humiliation. As well as the wish to satisfy 
him in any way he might want. Against her will, against 
her instincts. Because she was protecting her mate, her 
partner. 

God bless people who know their responsibilities to 
their families, thought Benjamin.

Then he tugged her head down again, violently. 

"Lick it, lick all of it, whore."

Helen complied. Her tongue danced around his testicles 
first, then went up, along the length of his penis. She 
spat on it again, then used her tongue to spread the 
spit everywhere. The sensation this gave to Benjamin 
made him moan aloud. He spread his thighs wider, 
pushing her down. He didn't even have to tell her what 
he wanted, Helen buried her head between his legs and 
toyed with his balls. 

"Aawww, fuuuuck... Aghhhh, fuck, yessss!!!!" 

She sucked on his balls. And made loud noises. And 
moved her head left and right, not letting his balls 
out of her mouth. She was good. Really good. Much 
better than Carla. Much better than anyone, anyone 
really... The way she jerked him off as her mouth and 
tongue were caressing his balls, the sounds she was 
making...

Benjamin pulled Helen's head back once again. With 
surprise he realised that her mouth and her hand alone 
seemed to be quite capable of bringing him off. All the 
way. In the state he brought himself to this was no 
small achievement. And Benjamin wanted more. 

"Not so fast, woman, not so fast. I'm not such a 
selfish fuck after all!" He wouldn't let go of her 
hair. He pulled her head to the back again and ordered 
her to open her mouth. She obeyed, instantly even 
though it was not hard to guess what Benjamin would do 
next.

He spat in her mouth. Helen flinched but did nothing 
else. She didn't protest or try to break away from him. 
Benjamin smiled and spat into her face again, this time 
saliva falling onto her lips and cheek, then starting a 
slow descent towards her chin, neck and breasts. 

"You love being treated like a slut, don't you?"

Helen didn't answer. Her eyes were full of tears, the 
fear and humiliation painting her face ill colours. 

"Tell me, Helen. Don't you?"

He shook her head violently, reminding her of the 
script and the setup. 

Helen looked straight into his eyes. Then she closed 
hers.

"...yes..." she whispered. The voice was so low, so 
heavy with shame and fear that her husband, drowning in 
his own fury couldn't have possibly heard her.

Benjamin could feel a slow electric charge going down 
his spine, into his guts, then outside towards his 
genitals. She was...

She was acting, right? She was just... staying in 
character for him. She was trying to save her husband 
from a gun-wielding maniac running on drugs and anger 
and burning with misplaced desire. And yet... 

And yet, she made him even harder. He had to have her. 
He had to have her right now. 

"Helen..." For a second he didn't know what to say. 
Then it came to him. 

"You almost made me cum there, Helen, you know that? I 
bet you would have loved it if I just lost it and 
sprayed those tits and face of yours with my baby-
juice, eh? Would have made it easier on your old pussy 
down there too. Well, no such luck, Helen, I'm afraid 
you're gonna have to earn my gratitude the old 
fashioned way. "


6. Waysted 

Jeremy's screams resembled some wild animal. Some 
animal in pain or mortal fear or blind rage. He 
thrashed on the floor and if there were any words 
coming out of his mouth they were lost in the torrent 
of inhuman cries that were ripping his throat and lungs 
into pieces. 

His wife was also loud, she was moaning and screaming 
and begging. But the difference was telling.

The difference, Benjamin told himself as he 
methodically pushed in and out, was that his screams 
were just amusing and hers... Well, hers were arousing. 
Incredibly arousing. 

"Ben... please... not so hard... oh my God... please, 
Ben..."

It made it so much better for him that she was trying 
to resist. Not in a serious way, of course, after all 
he was still the man with the gun, wasn't he? But as he 
was taking her from behind, pushing her face into the 
sofa, as he was slamming into her with cheerful 
abandon, she was begging him to go easy on her, she was 
trying to push him away from her with the palm of her 
hand pressed firmly onto his lower belly. 

It was better than anything he could remember. His head 
was swimming in a thick soup made of fog and feather 
most of the past day, hell, most of his life. But this, 
this made him feel good, it made him feel alive. 
Finally and irredeemably so. Benjamin fucked her, 
grabbing her hair between his fingers and pushing her 
head into the sofa, small fleshquakes rippling through 
her large buttocks with every thrust of his. 

"My God... no... please... no... not so hard... please, 
Ben... you're too big, please..."

It... it almost made him lose control. Never. No one 
ever. No girl ever said something like this to him. No 
girl ever. Just this woman. Just this woman, wife and 
mother of two daughters. And if pushed hard to think 
about it he would know that someone must have been 
lying to him. It was either all his past girlfriends or 
this woman. And Benjamin was no Ben Franklin but he was 
not that stupid. 

But he didn't care. This was it. This was the big one. 
The biggest show on Earth. This was their show. And 
Helen... Helen played it well, so well.

He slapped her asscheeks repeatedly, satisfied with the 
way her screams neatly followed. He pulled on her hair, 
lifting her from the sofa, bringing her close to 
himself. 

"I love it how you do this, Helen." He whispered into 
her ear. "I love it how much of a slut you turned out 
to be. This is the best thing that ever happened to 
me." 

And as he pushed her back to the sofa, it felt strange 
to experience the tremors in her body as he continued 
to fuck her. To rape her. 

Yes, he thought to himself, this was actually it, one 
way or the other, he raped her. No matter that she 
volunteered for this after assessing the situation 
between her husband and the rascally neighbour. This 
was rape, no matter how it felt for him. Or her. No 
matter whether her pleas and screams and tears were all 
playact or reality. No matter whether she really needed 
some thick manmeat in her as he was telling her. This 
was rape. 

And, closing his eyes, Benjamin wiped the sweat from 
his forehead. The body beneath him was so warm and 
rich. So inviting and beautiful. And what he did to it 
was shameful.

He stopped, mid-thrust. 

Is this it? Is this what I worked myself towards? 

Benjamin was thinking. He could hear the woman under 
him softly cry into the pillow. After all these years 
he had her on his cock. And... It's hard to imagine his 
mother would be proud of him after all. 

So, yeah, this is it. A rapist. That's what it is.

And Benjamin closed his eyes for a second again. The 
sun was down now, wasn't it? What time it was anyway? 
And what did it matter anyway.

So that was it. 

Benjamin pulled out. Yes, there was, there was this 
silly and perhaps even naïve thought at the back of his 
head about mending what he did, about stopping before 
it's too late, before the damage was done to the 
fullest. He didn't come yet, not everything was over. 

Helen screamed in very realistic pain when Benjamin 
started pushing his swollen cockhead into her asshole. 

"No, no, no, no, no, noooo, please!!! NO! Not there, 
NO!"

Benjamin had to hold her down with one hand, as she was 
thrashing under him, trying to get him off her. Not a 
hope in hell, he thought, not a hope in fucking hell, I 
am bigger than you Helen. You have no hope, Helen, 
sorry. 

"Please Benjamin, I can't, NOOOO!"

It was painful for him too. It was painful pushing into 
her ass like this, with no preparation or lubrication. 
But it felt good. It felt right. He pushed, violently, 
brutally, mercilessly. And he broke her in and 
continued pushing and pulling out and pushing in again. 

Helen was crying, loud sobs accompanying Benjamin's 
grunts. It must have been easier for her too now that 
her sphincter surrendered to the brutal force of 
Benjamin's assault. But it must have been much more 
humiliating than anything she ever experienced too. 
Raped in her ass, in front of her husband, helpless and 
fucked, like a ten dollar whore. 

Benjamin was sweating like a pig, pushing as deep into 
her as it would go. This was it, this was a loud ending 
to a ghastly story so far. There was no place for doubt 
and regret here any more. He was fucking Helen's ass, 
he was raping her the way no woman in his life would 
let him, he was on top of her, controlling her every 
move, humiliating her in front of her husband. He was 
in her so deep he was drowning. 

And as he felt the orgasm build inside of him, he 
grabbed her breasts with one his hand and buried 
fingers of his other hand into her pussy. And screamed, 
loud, like an animal. 

The impossible was happening and Benjamin was almost 
laughing from the absurdity of it all. And the elation 
he felt as his body was doing what it was built for, 
going through all the motions that make life have any 
sense. He shot his semen into Helen's ass, bellowing 
like it was him being raped, not her. And he could feel 
her body spasm as well, just the way his body did. They 
were two animals, trapped inside a circle built by Gods 
at the dawn of time. This was rape, yes. But it felt so 
right. 


7. Rights and wrongs

The police found Benjamin sleeping on the kitchen 
floor, the bottle of wine on the floor near him. He was 
planning to get back to the room. After all, there was 
something to be said about basking in the light of the 
humiliation he brought onto Jeremy. 

He did want to talk to Helen. He didn't know what 
exactly he wanted to talk about, but when he got up 
from his knees and when she turned her head back 
towards him and looked into his eyes, he knew he needed 
to. But, he realised he didn't know what to say and 
tactical retreat to the kitchen to look for any alcohol 
the family might have had in the fridge looked like a 
good idea back then. He could think along the way. 

But then the wine felt so good sliding down his throat 
(and chin and neck and chest) and his body was growing 
warm and soft and tired. And he sat on the floor. Just 
to get some rest. Helen was still on her knees, face-
first on the sofa, making no noises. He just needed 
some rest. 

The clubs and shoes rained down on Benjamin, hard. And 
there was shouting. 

"Don't-fucking-move-motherfucker move-one-fucking-
finger-and-you're-fucking-dead!!!"

The screams made little sense as the men were kneeling 
on Benjamin's throat, spraying his face with pepper 
spray, turning him around and cuffing his hands. 
Benjamin was a big man, normally it would take at least 
two police officers to subdue him. But now he was weak, 
drunk, he was sleeping and totally helpless. And there 
were five of them, shouting like mad. 

"Here's the gun, here's the gun," said one policeman to 
the other, holding Benjamin's piece by the barrel 
between two fingers.  

"Ma'am!" said the other, pointing his gun at Benjamin 
all the time. "Ma'am, please come here!"

"Is this the weapon?"

Helen nodded. Benjamin's vision was blurred but he 
could tell she was crying, her lips pressed together 
tight. Somewhere in the distant other room he could 
hear the sound of metal screaming. Someone was sawing 
through the cuffs he'd put on Jeremy. That meant it was 
Helen who called the police. 

"Get up, motherfucker, get UP!!!" the policeman said. 

Benjamin was pulled onto his feet, dizzy, disoriented, 
confused, silent, his eyes, nose and mouth swollen from 
the pepper and the punches. He couldn't speak, he 
couldn't breathe without hurting. The police twisted 
his arms into unnatural, unpleasant positions as they 
were pushing him to the door. 

He looked Helen's way.

"Step away ma'am, we're bringing him out", said the cop 
in his business voice. "He's under control", he added 
reassuringly. 

Helen didn't step away. She could probably see Benjamin 
was no threat to her or her family now. The police was 
here now to protect them. To protect her. She stayed in 
the room, watching in silence as Benjamin was half 
carried, half pushed out. 

Benjamin was unable to think clearly or even at all. He 
only knew that the price was paid. The price was paid, 
no matter how high it was. He shook his head, trying to 
clear his vision. He wanted to get one last clear look 
at Helen. One of the cops punched him in the back of 
his head. 

"Keep walking, fuckhead, don't resist!!"

I am not resisting, thought Benjamin. I just want to 
have one last look at her. 

Helen was inches away from him as he made one shaky 
step after another, cops directing him. She could have 
been miles away now, no difference to him or her. He 
couldn't touch her now. Not any more. Not ever again. 
He could, to his surprise, still smell the perfume on 
her. Through the mucus coming down his nose like rain, 
he breathed in, deeply. 

They took him out, passing Jeremy on the way, Jeremy 
being surprisingly silent and calm. They took him out 
and into a squad car with rotating lights. 

The police officer took out a pen and started writing 
things down on his clipboard. He asked Helen whether 
she felt she could give him a statement right now, as 
they wait for the ambulance to arrive. Helen nodded and 
answered something in a low voice.

"Sarge! Sarge!" said the other policeman, still holding 
Benjamin's gun in is hands and examining it. 

"What?" said the policeman with the clipboard and 
glasses.

"The gun is empty."

The sergeant raised his eyebrows.

"This thing is empty, sarge," said the cop pulling the 
magazine out to prove his point. "The fucker didn't 
have a single bullet here."  

The sergeant looked at Helen, then looked at the gun, 
then looked at Helen again. 

"You weren't aware of this, ma'am, were you?"

Helen was silent, allowing the absurdity of the 
question to coat and protect her from all the evils 
that the world might throw at her again. The night felt 
as if it would finally bring some calm. 

END

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 62