Sat. Jul 20th, 2024

By: Neonorth

“C’mon and scream, you stupid fuck!” Shay-Lynn commanded through gritted teeth.

Shay-Lynn could not help but feel a slight irritation with Raymond; she had spent an hour painting her nails for their date – all that work was being ruined because he wouldn’t stop struggling so she had to push her nails deeper into the flesh of the boy’s scalp to keep his head under the water. If the shit-head would just yell then he’d instinctively inhale to regain the expelled volume of air with the lake’s icy water. Didn’t Raymond realize by now that she was stronger than he was; there was no way his skinny ass was going to pull him out?  Just fucking die and be done with it – she was already in danger of being late for her eleven o’clock curfew.  Why were teenaged boys so stupid?

Shay-Lynn repositioned herself so that both her knees, her sun dress still hiked up at her waist could pelt the boy’s back to encourage a quicker end.  As she plunged both her knee caps just under Ray’s shoulder blades, there was a satisfying explosion of bubbles from the water.  The woman could not help but give a slight giggle at her current situation. She had arrived in Black Point that afternoon to make peace with her body’s inner chaos and cage it – and here she was letting it off its leash!  She wondered if Brenda would see the irony of it all.  Brenda, sweet Brenda.

“She looks just like her mother, doesn’t she?” Rolanda commented to her sister, “They could be twins.”

It was just past noon as the two sisters looked at the young girl sitting in the chair of the front of “Kopek’s Herbal Solutions” shop from the half drawn curtain in the back room.  Rolanda and her husband had bought the shop seven years ago in the small Northern Saskatchewan hamlet not for customer traffic but for the ease of access to the various herbs and barks that surrounded it.  The shop itself was more of a puttering spot to mix and dry the herbs and plants before Rolanda shipped them out to various covens world wide that could make use of them. It wasn’t making the Kopek’s rich but thanks to her very understanding husband, Rolanda could still practice her witchcraft but be seen as a legitimate small business as well.  Rolanda’s older by one year sister, Brenda, was a witch as well, but as far as Rolanda could tell, her sister was an “Urban Witch” – one who believed but didn’t live it.

Rolanda had been quite surprised when Brenda had called the night before to say that she was coming up to visit and ask a favour; even before they had moved from Regina to here the two sisters had hardly had any contact since Brenda had turned eighteen and moved out of their parents house. It hadn’t been that the two girls weren’t close growing up, they had been. It was Brenda who introduced Rolanda to the herbal books when she was only twelve; it was Brenda that would walk through the fields with Rolanda looking for plants, it was Brenda who introduced Rolanda to the world of Wicca and pledged Rolanda’s entry into the Regina coven. It was just that while Rolanda dove deep, Brenda preferred to tread the surface of the water, attending only a couple of ceremonies in a year at first, then it tapered off to nothing, just an occasional phone call or box of dried plants that Brenda had collected as a sidebar to her travel consultant business trips around the world. To show up with the daughter of a girl they had gone to a week long camp with when Rolanda was fourteen and ask if the girl could live with her for a little while was to say the least unusual.

Rolanda looked at the girl once more. Shay-Lynn was the spitting image of her mother: not thin but not rotund, thick long auburn hair that half curled along the sides of her smooth rounded facial features that had a glow to the skin that let the girl’s dark brown eyes grab your attention – and that was without make-up!   Rolanda thought that the fifteen year old dressed a little mature for her age, not provocatively but earthy in a flannel shirt tucked in to loose fitting slacks with beige sandals. Shay-Lynn not only shared her mother’s name and looks but her voice was similar with the little that the girl had said when Brenda was introducing the two, Rolanda recalled. It was such a pity that such a lovely girl had such tragedy at such a young age.

Shay-Lynn’s mother and Brenda had kept in touch over the years since that camp, which Rolanda, up until now had thought was a deeper kind of relationship than the one that their homophobic parents would be comfortable with.  Two years ago, Shay-Lynn, the mother, had been stricken with ovarian cancer, inoperable and had passed away.  The young girl’s father had left the two when the girl was still in diapers, which left only two options – foster care or Brenda agreeing to care for her.  Brenda had agreed but now her health was poor.  Brenda had found an alternative treatment but it meant that she would be receiving care in Switzerland for almost six months.  The treatment was going to be hard on Brenda; it would be difficult just looking after herself let alone a teenager in a foreign country.  Of course Rolanda would take the girl in, a quick phone call to Ted, who never denied Rolanda anything anyway, cemented Shay-Lynn’s stay with the Kopeks. The timing, despite the circumstances, was almost perfect: school had just gotten out for summer vacation two weeks before so it would give Shay-Lynn time to get to know some of the kids that she would be riding the bus to La Loche with to school in the fall and, Rolanda suggested, they would simply call it a year so that Brenda would not have to try to enrol Shay-Lynn into a Regina school when she got back.  Brenda could stay up with them here as well to help with recuperation. With the arrangements made, Brenda thanked her sister as they went into the front of the shop to explain to the girl the plan.  Afterward, Brenda asked the teenager to help her bring the three suitcases of clothes into the shop.

Shay-Lynn and Brenda walked silently to Brenda’s rusted with a hint of factory black Mazda without a word.  Brenda swore under her breath as she went through her large key ring to find the key that would open the Mazda’s trunk.

“You lied to your sister,” Shay-Lynn said flatly, breaking the uneasy silence.

Brenda nodded but did not answer, finding the right key and inserting it. The trunk creaked its opposition to being opened.  Both women grabbed a bag, but Brenda did not lift it out onto the sidewalk, remaining still with her eyes closed.

“It’s for the best,” Brenda said tiredly.  “Bringing you here – spotting the truth – it’s what’s best for you, it’s what’s best for me…and it’s what’s best for Rolanda. She believes in the values but she doesn’t understand the reality of the belief in those values…sometimes not understanding the truth is easier.”

Shay-Lynn set the first bag down on the pavement and reached for a second one.

“I just thought that being truthful was always what was best for those you love,” Shay-Lynn said with a sharp edge to her voice.  Brenda’s eyes popped open as she roughly picked up the suitcase her hand was on.

“Oh but of course, that’s what is the best,” the woman spat barely over a whisper as she forced the trunk down, facing the younger looking woman. “Hey, sis – remember that chick that you and I hung around with back when we were teenagers? You know the one that showed us how to finger fuck that one night at camp and how we all tried it on each other? Remember how that innocent fifteen year old girl made you cum so hard that it brought the counsellors in because they thought someone was dying? Remember how we all giggled afterward, but decided it was a nice experiment, but it would be so much better with a guy? Well, it turns out she’s wasn’t fifteen but a two hundred year old hobgoblin that I haven’t stopped fucking for the past, oh, nineteen years.  In fact, we’d still be in Regina fucking each other’s brains out but her pussy that used to purr is now hissing and biting!  Yes, that would make the situation go swimmingly, wouldn’t it?”

Shay-Lynn stared back at Brenda, hurt by the words her lover had thrown with such vileness in her tone. In all the years the two had spent together, hiding their relationship from Brenda’s family, family, co-workers and the coven, Brenda had never spoken a harsh word to her.

“I could try to hold back,” Shay-Lynn offered weakly, “I could just satisfy you…you wouldn’t have to touch me…there…at all…”

The hardness fell from Brenda’s face.  She stroked Shay-Lynn’s hair gently and smiled.

“No, I couldn’t,” Brenda admitted aloud to both herself and the other woman.  “We both need each other too much – we have to be apart.”  Shay-Lynn shook her head.

“No, we don’t have to….I could….”

“Shay…. Shirtazia, no.”

Shay-Lynn was startled; even when Brenda had been in the deepest throes of passion she had never used the hobgoblin’s real name.  Brenda took the stunned woman’s hands into hers, squeezing them slightly.

“Remember what your mentor, Glendyn, warned us about when we ran into a few years ago in Wales?” the mortal asked the hobgoblin.  Shay-Lynn did not answer. Brenda had not wanted to say what had to be said to her lover, but she knew that if she didn’t, Shay-Lynn would continue to deny what was happening to her.  At first, Brenda had laughed off the older hobgoblin’s message of doom but after the events of two nights ago,  she could no longer see it as a cruel joke on the part of a frigid spinster.

“Remember, hon? How Glendyn said that sometimes, if you are over sexually stimulated when it was that ‘time’ of the century, it causes your cervix to inflame and become irritated?” Brenda gently reminded.  “Do you remember why Glendyn said that was so dangerous?”  Shay-Lynn’s cheeks turned dark red.

“If I get off too excited it may trigger my cervix to prepare for fertilization,” Shay-Lynn whispered as she looked at her about to be former-lover before turning to inspect an imagined flaw on her shoe. “Hobgoblins are not meant to survive conception, neither is their goblin partner – our bodies have biological mechanisms that paralyze and puncture to ensure successful mating.  It could do that.”

“Honey,” Brenda said gently as she guided Shay-Lynn’s hand to Brenda’s inner calf where the loose dress could hardly disguise the large thick gauze that wrapped around her upper leg underneath.

“It could and it almost did,” the other finished.

The emergency room doctors had to use 16 stitches to close the laceration in Brenda’s inner thigh, all the while commenting that it was fortunate that the ‘kitchen knife’ that had accidentally slipped from the table as the two were ‘play fighting’ had just barely missed the major artery.  Shay-Lynn’s hearing, far more powerful than her human lover’s could ever be, had heard the doctor ask Brenda, in strict patient/doctor confidence once Shay-Lynn had left the room, if she felt she was in danger if she returned home with her ‘roommate,’ would like him to place a call to the RCMP? Brenda assured the doctor that the deep wound had been caused by a bit of clumsiness on her part; there was nothing that she had to fear.

The two women had spent hours talking about their options when they had returned back to their home. The two agreed that Shay-Lynn could not just simply move out to give the women space.  Regina was a big city, but Brenda pointed out that the bond they shared was more than hormonally driven; there was a psychic connection that allowed Shay-Lynn to retain the ability to shimmer her appearance to that of a young woman instead of the haggish form she had naturally. Brenda told the other woman that they could be on the opposite sides of the city and she could tell the mood Shay-Lynn was in; she could smell the aroma of the hobgoblin’s pheromones in the air despite kilometres of distance.  She could not move to another city; cities had too many electronic surveillance devices that would “out” Shay-Lynn for what she really was.  In Regina, she was safe because of the nature of her relationship with Brenda and the understanding of the amount of energy that Shay-Lynn had to draw from her lover in order to be at the maximum level of her abilities in order to walk among the others undetected: Shay-Lynn would not find another willing so quickly, and as an afterthought, Brenda added that she would hope that she was more than just a good lay.

Shay-Lynn would need to be in a relatively small town where technology hadn’t overrun all the businesses, but Brenda did not want to leave her somewhere Shay-Lynn would feel alone.  Brenda had remembered that her sister and her husband had moved up north to the hamlet of Black Point.  She had not seen her sister for longer than a few minutes every couple of years when she came down on the rare occasion that the coven had a speaker in about the applications of herbs, but Brenda was sure that Rolanda would welcome Shay-Lynn into her home, considering their history.  Shay-Lynn suggested that it would be due to the history between the three that it may turn out harder to convince Rolanda to shelter her.  Brenda smiled, gave Shay-Lynn a light kiss on her forehead and assured her that she would take care of everything.

“Now, let’s get you inside so you can start healing,” Brenda told Shay-Lynn with a overly fake bravado as she picked up one of the suitcases and headed for Rolanda’s shop door.

The three women talked for another hour or two together, both Rolanda and Brenda clucking like mother hens at Shay-Lynn, each assuring that it was only until Brenda was better, then back to Regina would the girl be going back.  Think of this as an extended vacation, and Rolanda added, if Shay-Lynn wanted to, she could earn extra money by working for her in the herbal healing shop after school and weekends. There were no tears as the trio became a duo, and though the mood was of sadness, each woman pushed forward with a forced smile on their lips.

Once Brenda’s Mazda had disappeared down the street, Rolanda, gently rubbed Shay-Lynn’s shoulders, telling her that it was alright, it was only for a little while.  Shay-Lynn nodded and smiled, placing her hand on the woman’s hand, and taking the slightest of psychic sips of energy from her – it tasted bitter, Shay-Lynn thought to herself.  It had been so long that she had to steal energy from a stranger that she had forgotten how a real connection sweetened the process.

Rolanda moved her hands from the girl’s shoulders, rubbing absent-mindedly at the hand Shay-Lynn had touched.  It would be a couple of hours until Ted, her husband, would be stopping by to pick the two of them up to take them home – did she want to go out and explore the sights, perhaps meet some of the people that were more closer to her own age?

Shay-Lynn bit her lip to stop herself from snapping that if she wanted to meet any other two hundred and thirty nine year olds, she’d have to go to the cemetery. Perhaps if she began to trust the witch, she would reveal her true nature to her, but for now, Shay-Lynn decided that she would play the role of the guise she wore of a teen-aged young woman.  With a heavy sigh, she strolled out the door and began to walk idly up and down the streets of Black Point.

Shay-Lynn had to admit that while there was a definite lack of activity along the streets, there was a certain charm about the town.  It was definitely a peaceful location, with the town licking the southern shore of Lac La Loche, there would ample opportunity to canoe, swim and fish, something she hadn’t done for almost half a century, not since she had left her ancestral home around Balquhidder. Her mind didn’t even register that while she stood looking out at the lapping waters of Lac La Loche, there were a pair of eyes watching her.  It was all for her to do but to steady her fingernails from extending into claws when a voice said “hey” from behind her.

Slowly Shay-Lynn turned to find a lanky, crew-cutted Native looking man-boy standing with his hands in his blue jean pockets while nervously sliding one of his “Croc” laden feet through the rocky beach. Oh great, Shay-Lynn, thought to herself, it figures that the first person to show an interest in me would have to be the wrong gender. Still, she continued to think, maybe its for the best that she wouldn’t be talking from her pubic regions – for a little while, anyway.

“Hey,” Shay-Lynn responded.   As if her addressing him had inspired confidence, the boy moved closer, taking his hands out of his jeans and smiling broadly.

“I saw you leaving Kopek’s store,” the boy said, “Are you their niece? I heard from my mom that the Kopek’s had a niece that lives Edmonton.” As an afterthought the boy added, “I’m Ray – Raymond Kirylchuk, my folks live just down the road,” and pointed back the way Shay-Lynn had walked down to the shore from.

“Nope, ain’t me, sorry,” Shay-Lynn answered, then quickly added as she saw the boy’s smile fade slightly, “But I’m the daughter of a friend of Mrs. Kopek’s other sister from Regina. We’re practically family – so you were sorta close.”

It was close enough for Ray and for over a half an hour he talked about the goings on of Black Point, what there was to do and a summary of his short fifteen years on the planet. Shay-Lynn found her pleasantly amused by the boy; she did not have to invest hardly anything into the conversation, Ray would quickly fill in any silence between the two of them.  Further encouraged by Shay-Lynn not running hard in the opposite direction, Ray decided that this would be the only opportunity before the other guys would muscle him out of getting the new girl’s attention and asked her if she wanted to get together for a tour of the town….with him….that night.

Shay-Lynn looked at Ray critically – was he being just a good ol’ boy or was he just trying to nail what he would later cat call to his buddies the “vagina from Regina” – she glanced quickly at the front of his jeans; no big bulge.  She decided that the boy was being friendly naturally without his cock leading him through the motions and told him that she would like that.

Ray looked as if he was going to do a touchdown dance but kept his voice steady, telling Shay-Lynn that he would pick her up at eight.  She embarrassedly told him that would be fine, but she didn’t know where she lived.  He laughed and told her not to worry; he knew where the Kopek’s little acreage was. With his opening move successful, Ray talked some more about life around the hamlet, the gossip, as he escorted Shay-Lynn back to the Kopek’s herbal shop.

Far from being concerned that Shay-Lynn had only been in town for a couple hours and was already planning her first ‘date’, Rolanda, who knew the Kirylchuks very well, was twice as excited as Shay-Lynn was.  The excitement Rolanda felt for the match extended to the ride home, the setting up of Shay-Lynn’s bedroom and the woman brought out a very modest but pleasant looking sun dress that Shay-Lynn could wear.  Shay-Lynn had never been one for preening; she had always preferred the au natural look, as did Brenda, but Rolanda insisted on showing her how to braid her hair, which nail polish flattered her skin tone, the same with lipstick, blush and mascara.  By the time eight rolled around, Shay-Lynn could hardly recognize herself in the mirror. She could tell by the way Ray walked her down the driveway to his dark purple Derbi Altantis scooter that at least one part of the boy approved of the effort that was made.

Ray drove through the few streets, pointing out the residences of the people he had talked about during the afternoon.  He drove through down the different access roads, explaining which ones led to the local reserve, which ones led to party spots before he got onto the main road up to the village of La Loche.  He asked if she wanted to see the village, which was just a few kilometres up the road – or would she like to see the spot where he liked to go on the shores of the lake.

Shay-Lynn answered that she wouldn’t mind seeing the lake again, though she politely refrained from saying that her reason was that the seat of scooter and the rough roads had caused her bum muscles to start to pulsate uncomfortably.  Ray gave a smile and drove two kilometres up the road until he came to a slight indent on the side.  The two dismounted the scooter and Ray led Shay-Lynn down a barely recognizable path by his sweaty hand. The walk through the thick bush took twenty minutes, with Ray pointing out different plants and their traditional uses; no wonder Rolanda gushed over this boy, Shay-Lynn thought to herself, until they reached the shore line of Lac La Loche.  Ray moved several dead branches, pulling out a two person jetty that looked just passable as water worthy.  Inside in the middle of the two wooden planked seats was a tattered looking blanket the Ray took, spreading it over one of the planks, explaining that he would terrible if Shay-Lynn was to have spend the night picking splinters out of her butt.

Once on the water, Shay-Lynn sitting up front, while Ray sat in the back rowing and steering the jetty, she scanned the other side of the lake, the tree lines and marvelled at the sound of the water lapping against the side of the jetty.  It was so calm, peaceful, Brenda would love it here, she thought to herself, and then chastised that thought – she had to put Brenda out of her mind or she would ache and moon, which wouldn’t help her regain control over her body.  The scooter had not helped her forget about her lover she thought as she grimaced, the vibrations and bumps seemed to stir the memories of making love, not promote chastity.  Shay-Lynn let out a surprised “oh” when the jetty bumped against a ten by eight foot raft that she hadn’t even noticed off to the right of her.

Ray tied off the jetty to a nail that stuck out on the left corner of the raft, jumped onto the raft, which was quite stable, Shay-Lynn noticed, and helped the woman out of the jetty.  He took the blanket from the seat, spread it out and gestured for Shay-Lynn to sit down.  Once she did, he sat down beside her and explained that the raft was what was left of an ice fishing shack.  Someone a few years ago, Ray told Shay-Lynn, had the idea that if he drove four six by six timbers like a square into the lake’s bottom then build an ice shack out from the center of that foundation, it would save time in the winter hauling the shack onto the lake.  The man ended up moving before he could put up the walls and roof, and left without removing what he had already done, which Ray gratefully adopted as his own.  He came out to the raft often, to fish, to swim, to think. It was far enough out that partiers didn’t want to take the effort to swim out to drink on it but close enough that Fish and Wildlife hadn’t considered it a water hazard and taken it apart. Shay-Lynn smiled in response.

The two sat silently on the blanket as the sun began to set off in the far treeline, Ray looking out into the dark waters of Lac La Loche, Shay-Lynn looking critically at the boy that sat beside her. He wasn’t one of those over testosterone energized rude son of a bitches she noted in her mind, in fact, he had more of a feminine quality to his eyes; soft, open…vulnerable. She wasn’t sexually attracted to him, really, she thought to herself, but she felt ‘safe’ with him though she hardly knew him – time wise, that is.  Surely it was reasonable to conclude that if you had an itch, a little scratch there, while it wouldn’t eradicate the cause of the itch, would relieve some of the symptoms for a short time. Brenda would understand that she couldn’t quit sex cold turkey – after so long have having almost every night, it couldn’t be expected.  It was just an experiment, to see if their love was a catalyst or sex in general.  It wasn’t even with another woman; it was just a little scratch. Shay-Lynn stared out at the lake. Shay-Lynn almost let a groan escape her lips thinking of the scratching she could be doing with Brenda on the raft.

“It’s really beautiful here,” Shay-Lynn stated softly without looking at Ray.

Ray turned to look at the girl, a look of confusion on his face for a brief second as if he had forgotten that she had even been there.

“Huh? Oh, yes it is, isn’t it?” he answered, his cheeks darkening.  His nose wrinkled a bit then he commented, “That’s weird.”

Shay-Lynn moved a little closer to Ray, her hand brushing the calf of his leg.

“What is?”

“I swear that I can smell someone cooking up some bacon.”

Shay-Lynn gave Ray a smile; she had heard Brenda say that often, especially if Shay-Lynn had walked into the room and Brenda had been wearing nothing but a smile and sitting with her legs apart waiting for her.  Brenda told her once that sometimes she couldn’t tell whether Shay-Lynn had cooked dinner or was horny. Damn, thinking of Brenda made her so wanting.

Ray was trembling, he couldn’t help it.  He had not brought Shay-Lynn to his raft to get into her pants; he had hoped that she would appreciate that he wasn’t one of ‘those’ types of guys.  Her touch electrified him through his jeans, he knew that he should be slick but at the same time he had never a girl willing to touch him like this.  What mattered to the girls up here was the appearance of being physically strong – Ray didn’t fit that description, he knew that girls were polite enough to his face but not concerned enough to lower their voices when they muttered “Geek” as he walked away. He took a sharp intake of breath as Shay-Lynn’s hand slid to his groin and slowly began rubbing it. He dared to peek at the girl beside him, who made Ray bite his lip: she had slipped the straps from her shoulders and had unclipped her bra; he could see her sharp puffed nipples that glistened as if they had been wetted down.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-n-o,” Ray sputtered.  “I-It’s just that I, well, uhm, I….”

Shay-Lynn smiled broader but inside she cursed the boy.  What the fuck? All there is to do around here is to fuck or fight; he doesn’t have any god-damn muscles so you’d think he’d be a fucking machine!  God, be a man and fucking squeeze, lick or kiss my titties, do something, so we can get on with it!

No, she thought immediately, this made it even better.  A pastry chef can make a puff so creamy that you can’t help but want more – while someone who can’t even figure out how to boil water is going to make a person feel good that they didn’t contract food poisoning. This boy just might make her forget the pleasure of sex…for a while. Ray attempting to stand shook her debate from her head.

“Uhm, look, I, uh, it’s just that, I, you know,” the boy stammered as he quickly brushed his hand through his short black hair. “I, you don’t have to, I didn’t bring you here to….maybe I should take you back home before we do something you’ll hate me for later.”

“Ssshhhhhh,” Shay-Lynn whispered to Ray.  She took her index finger and slowly circled it around her left breast.  She could tell that Ray wanted to look away but the allure of watching her nipple tip follow the pressure of her finger kept his attention rapt upon her mammary flesh.  She counted to forty, hoping that it was the correct amount of time that she remembered; too much of the cocktail she was stirring within her breast could turn the boy into a gibbering pile of mush. Though Ray had smelt bacon, Shay-Lynn could have told him that he had been mistaken – it was her.  Goblins did not mate with hobgoblins by choice; they had to be coerced with a concoction of sexually stimulating hormones that the nipples secreted.  Goblins were far heartier than mortals, needing its full potency before acting upon the hormonal urges it inspired.  She had used it often before she had met Brenda; to be truthful, it was how she originally had gotten Rolanda and Brenda to join her in that camp cot all those years ago. Brenda, however, Shay-Lynn had found out sometime afterward, had something called polycystic ovary syndrome which had practically nullified the nefarious intent – she had wanted to make love to Shay-Lynn that night.

“You like what you see?” she whispered innocently.  Ray nodded dumbly, frozen in his tracks.  Shay-Lynn lightly rolled her moist finger across Ray’s lips, watching his eyes dilate as the hobgoblin hormones quickly sunk through his lips and into his blood stream.  She rolled her tongue up his neck to his ear. She nibbled his earlobe.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?”

Ray did not respond with words; he undid the button on his jeans then slid them and his underwear from his legs.  Shay-Lynn sat back down on the blanket pulling the ends of her sundress to meet where the halter top had rested, grabbing his hands and guiding him between her legs as she lay down.  She ensured that his arms were locked so that his chest did not meet hers; the tiny cilia that she had milked his courage from could puncture his soft chest and put him into shock.  She winced as he entered her; it felt like nothing she had ever experienced before – the even warmth, the pulse beat, the sponginess – she felt uncomfortable.  Her hand moved up to his buttocks and pressed firmly on them to bring him fully into her as she tightened her own muscles around him.

Ray’s eyes became clear; the sensations had snapped him out of his hormone hypnosis.  He didn’t remember lying on top of her; he didn’t remember taking his pants off – what if she hadn’t wanted him to do this?  Was he some sick bastard who blacked out and raped women?  He moved his hips back to pull out, but Shay-Lynn brought her hips up to keep him where he was.  She wanted him.  Him!  Ray, second thoughts erased, began to thrust like he had seen those actors do in those love scenes, getting more excited as the girl underneath grunted once.  When Shay-Lynn grunted for a second time, Ray felt a rush of fluid release from him. He prayed that he had just cum and not just urinated in the first girl he ever had sex with.

Shay-Lynn felt Ray stiffen then shuddered as his warmth flood her cavern.  She knew he was looking at her so she put her hand to his cheek and smiled, though her mind was reacting the opposite.  She could never understand why prostitutes were able to make so much money plying their trade, now she knew: someone would have to pay her to go through this too.  What confused her were all those women who were willing to go through this for nothing. If feeling that stuff oozing down deeper into her body wasn’t bad enough, now she had to rub the boy’s ego by telling him how good he was when she would have gotten more pleasure from a doorknob.  Thank the gods that she had chosen the right sexual orientation in the first place – imagine century after century of doing this.

Shay-Lynn was trying to find a polite way to tell Ray that sex was over with, he could take his penis out of her now – and a polite way of saying she really needed to find some way to rinse herself out before the thought of his sperm inside made her physically ill – when despite her lack of pleasure, she felt a tingling just below her abdomen.  She could swear that she could feel his semen listlessly sloshing around the end of her vaginal walls, awakening something that she knew shouldn’t be awoken.

Shay-Lynn became assertive, telling Ray to get off of her –Now!  Ray, not understanding, tried to calm her down. No, you fucking idiot, get off of me now!  Honey, just wait – we didn’t do anything bad – it just happened…get-off-of-me-before….

Fuck! Too late!

Ray screeched, his mouth fell wide and his body stiffened.  His warmth once again began to roll off of Shay-Lynn; not inside but where their hips were still together, and the warmth was the colour of a ripe cherry being crushed for a smoothie onto the blanket.

Shay-Lynn managed to push Ray off, heaving him to one side.  His eyes went wide as he saw a two inch  flesh coloured serrated pike that stuck straight out of Shay-Lynn just below the triangle of her pubic hair and above where he had penetrated her.  His eyes went even wider when he saw blood spurting from the hole where that pike had inserted itself into his groin just above his manhood.  He screeched louder.

“SHUT UP, SHUT UP” Shay-Lynn screamed at Ray.  If he had been a goblin, his own reproductive organ would have ensured the release of a natural aesthesia and paralyzing agent, but he wasn’t a goblin – he was human, feeling the full agony of having his pelvis shredded.  Shay-Lynn shouted at him to be quiet once more , but he ignored her, starting to slap at the hole as if to try to wave the blood away as his screech became louder and louder with each failure to stop the bubbling crimson spout hole.

Panicking, Shay-Lynn swung her arm out, clipping Ray in the nose, bursting the capillaries to shower the raft with blood and sending the boy reeling, the force of her blow turning him onto his stomach, his neck bouncing roughly on top of the edge of the raft.  Shay-Lynn pounced onto the boy’s back and using both hands to force Ray’s head into the cold waters of Lac La Loche; the television had made murdering a person look easy, but Shay-Lynn was quickly discovering that Brenda was right when she had told her that you cannot take what you see on it for granted. Ray was not about to give up fighting for his life.  Shay-Lynn pushed on the boy’s head harder.

“C’mon and scream, you stupid fuck!” Shay-Lynn commanded through gritted teeth. You scream like a fucking banshee but when it counts you stop? Fucking boys.

There was a slight cracking sound: the resistance in Raymond’s neck had vanished allowing the force of Shay-Lynn’s pushing to wrap the boy’s neck over the edge of the raft’s plank until his chin thudded into the underside of the outer plank.  Shay-Lynn had been caught off guard by the sudden give in the body and resulted in her clumsily tumbling head first into the water, Raymond’s scalp tearing off in ribbons from where Shay-Lynn’s cuticles had rested atop it to where the tips of her nails had penetrated.

Shay-Lynn sank quickly downwards; she had not realized how deep the water was. Fear gripped Shay-Lynn, as she struggled in the cold water quickly began to numb her body from toe to head. She could not focus on attempting to make it back to the surface of the lake and masking her true self. She knew that, to survive, she would have to give up the vanity and pray that the disturbance of Ray dying had not aroused anyone near by. Gone was the facade of youth, wrinkles deeply etched into her skin filled with minute traces of water just as a dry gully would as a dam breaks above it  would.  The sharpness of her ears and nose sliced through the water as she shook her head to break its surface.  She could feel the energy absorbing into her muscles, warming her, loosening the tautness the icy water had created and the lightening of her body as it no longer vibrated quickly to create the appearance of solid flesh against her natural lithe serpentine flesh.  Shay-Lynn, for the moment, was gone: Shirtazia was in command.

Freed from heavy anchor of humanity, Shirtazia, who looked as if a skeleton with skin laminated on to secure the muscle, tendon and sinew, effortlessly thrust her extended hands out towards the algae covered support beams of the raft, her talon like nails plunging deep into the waterlogged wood. Metre by metre the hobgoblin clawed her way to the planks the made up the raft, her curved toe nails curled to keep the sundress that no longer was kept snug against her fashioned larger body mass from being left to continue to the bottom of the lake. She then used her talons along the bottom of the raft as if she were navigating a set of monkey bars until she reached the end of the planks.  She grabbed the plank and pulled her head out of the water just as her lungs were about to force her mouth open whether she had liked it or not.  Once Shirtazia had a lifted her body out of the water enough that her elbows would support the rest of her body, she rested and let the warmth disperse once again around her body from her muscles and tendons.

Shay-Lynn pulled herself back onto the raft, her eyes became as watery as her dress that she still clung onto with her toes. On her hands and knees, she could not control the combination of frustration, anger and distress that violently ravaged throughout the tendons of her body as she greedily gulped in air to force the few ounces of water that had found their way into her lungs out.  Little by little she slowed the tremors and her breathing down but she could not quell the rage that was within.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, her mind screamed, the boy meant nothing, nothing!  Excitement came from connection and anticipation; Shay-Lynn hadn’t enjoyed the sensation of a cock within her, yet here she sat huddling herself close with the pressure of orgasm that had reached its peak without hope of release!  She couldn’t blame herself for her condition, but she had to assign then vindicate its presence somehow.  She snarled as her eyes focused on Ray’s corpse.  HE did this, somehow HE hurt me.

With an animalistic roar Shay-Lynn disappeared once more as Shirtazia’s nails raked and stripped flesh from the boy’s back, skull and legs, pieces of denim and shirt impaling itself onto the pointed tips with every stroke of her arm. She laughed manically as the flurry of punches she landed onto the body resulted in the sickeningly sweet sound of bone popping, cracking and shattering within its fleshed container.  Shirtazia would not stop her sally until those sounds would stop; giving way to heavy thuds and jellied recoil of skin after her fist had retracted.

Shirtazia then retreated from her target of revenge, resting on her haunches.  She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the weariness she felt in her arms achingly work their way through the rest of her body. Shay-Lynn opened her eyes quieting her rage enough that she could think of something other than its and her sexual release.

Shay-Lynn slid the sundress back onto her body then dragged Raymond’s corpse to the jetty, plopping it unceremoniously onto the splintered wooden planks and straddling it as she paddled back to the shore. Through the pangs of pain from her pelvis she began to think of how she would eradicate the traces of what she had just done.  Tonight, coming back wet and dishevelled, there would be questions but if she could beg that it was far too traumatic to speak of, tomorrow morning she could cover her crime.  She had been with Brenda on all the trips, picking the different herbs that she would send to her sister.  She knew some of the not mortally known uses for some of those herbs.  She would offer to help the witch at her shop and mix up the herbs that would fog the memory that Raymond Kirylchuk ever existed.

Once to the shore, Shay-Lynn clumsily carried the body a short way into the woods, putting it close to a large burrow in a berm which she assumed was that of a fox or some other carnivorous animal before she made her way to and up the path that would lead her to the highway and her new ‘home’.    She had thought of taking Raymond’s scooter to save herself from some footwork but with her rage in check, a sharp pain emanating from her pelvic region took its turn in the forefront of her mind.  The scooter, she thought, would only heighten the sharpness deep within her.

Shay-Lynn stuck her middle finger between her legs and then inspected her finger for blood – there was no evidence of internal bleeding.  Shay-Lynn frowned; she momentarily had a faint glimmer of hope that the small dicked boy may have caused some damage avertedly with his inept love making technique, but the darker realization that Shay-Lynn’s lack of restraint had made Brenda’s worry had become a real concern: the pilot light had been ignited in sex drive and the toggle switch had broken off at high.

Shay-Lynn winced as she hobbled along the dark highway back to town, keeping her one hand on the front of her pelvis as if its pressure would some how lighten its intensity.  She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want to endure this constant pain either.  She would have to figure out a way that she could out smart the biological time bomb within, even if she would have to leave a pile of bodies in her wake, she would beat it Shay-Lynn promised. Once free, she could return to the love and safety of Brenda’s bed.  If Shay-Lynn would have bothered to look up into the night sky, she would have seen a solitary cloud hanging low above her suspiciously looking as if it were not amused at all at what had just transpired.

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7 thoughts on “Black Point”
  1. I read halfway through it, short of time now. I’ll come and finish it later. Excellent so far.

  2. Shay-Lynn began as a antagonist for another story that as I was writing but I set upon creating a back story for my own peace of mind. Previously, I would have included the back story in the main story but it has been pointed out that doing it this way distracts the reader from the main story. It was fun letting the ink unfold the story of Shay-Lynn and I’m glad that you enjoyed the result…

  3. Excellent writing, Neo. You seem to excel in the explicit description. I used to write a lot more R and X-rated stuff myself, but have been creatively impotent as of late. lol Really enjoyed this. We could all take a few pointers from your work.

  4. @ Grainne – thanks, It think I make my back stories as such since I know that invariably, since the protagonist in the main story is always going to be two dimensional in his purpose. It was like when I wrote the sub plot for Adam and his quest to usurp the throne of Hell from Lucifer, I think that the back story on him, Eve, Lilith and the un-named second wife in the old scrolls (who I named Nehiyaw) was longer than the actual story they were written into.

    @TLWM, thanks for the comp, but I doubt anyone would learn much from me in terms of description as they would not like the process – I act most of the scenes out. It’s not so bad for a fight scene, but boy, do the neighbours ever stare when I’m putting a concrete image about a lust scene!

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