Sleepwalker
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D-I-S-C-L-A-I-M-E-R
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I wanted to begin this tale with the very song that inspired it, which I DO NOT own. It is © to Dave Mustaine, the writer, and Megadeth, as well as their producer and record label, I'm guessing. The characters and events in this story (as far as I know) are completely fictional and © to me. Any similarities between the characters/events and real people is purely coincidental. Maybe. Be advised, this is sexually explicit material that revolves around such sensitive topics as murder, rape, and that sort of thing. If this offends you, please destroy your monitor and run from this story as fast as you can, screaming like a howler monkey giving birth to a sea lion. Notice that I made no mention of your age - that is because if you're underage and you have come this far, I don't think another silly little warning is going to stop you at this point. Also, I regret to inform you that if you do not comment, I will be forced to insert bent whiffle-ball bat in you. SO COMMENT, and enjoy the story.
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"S-L-E-E-P-W-A-L-K-E-R"
by Megadeth
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_"I should be calling collect from jail
For the things I commit each night in my head
Like last night in my sleep I got to snuff you
But then, I woke up again, safe in my little bed
No one is safe, when I close my eyes
I come to take your life
I get to force your untimely disappearance
Each night in my dreams when I'm fast asleep
I close my eyes, you just vanish, soon as I lay down
My head, when I'm dead, to the whole wide world
No one is safe, when I close my eyes
I come to take your life
And then I wake up again, and it was all just a dream
And everything is the same
Sleepwalker
Did I give you concrete shoes, and throw you off of a bridge
Sleepwalker
When I lay down to sleep, pray your soul's mine to keep
I feel you near me
Sleepwalker
Just taking a stroll...
Don't go to sleep...
Here's some toothpicks for your eyes!
You always make an excellent cadaver
I roll up your body in a carpet to make music
In the trunk of my limousine, wrapped up
In a rug, a fitting end is that I send you in the river
Like a punk!_
No one is safe, when I close my eyes
I come to take your life
The angel of death is pissed off at me again
Just because I got to put you out of my misery
It doesn't matter, I am without fear, now that you're dead
I won't shed, another bloody tear - for you!
No one is safe, when I close my eyes
I come to take your life
I'm calling down the thunder, then you'll sleep with the fishes
The answer to all of my wishes
Sleepwalker
Did I tell you I was in movies
Then dump you garroted lying naked in a ditch
Sleepwalker
Everyday, another way
I know you can hear me
I think you'd look nice in a Columbian necktie
Should stop your tongue from wagging the dog
No more stupidity from you, as I pull your tongue through
For a smile from ear to ear, there's nothing to hear
No one is safe, when I close my eyes
I come to take your life
And then I wake up again, and it was all just a dream
And everything is still the same
Sleepwalker
Did I give you concrete shoes, and throw your body off of a bridge
Sleepwalker
When I lay down to sleep, pray your soul's mine to keep
I feel you near me
Sleepwalker
Or did I tell you I was in movies
Then dump you garroted lying naked in a ditch
Sleepwalker
Everyday, another way
I know you can hear me"
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S-T-O-R-Y
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"Looks like yer late again, girlie..." said the blackish wolf darkly, eyeing his daughter - a twelve-year-old vixen with dark-orange fur and long, brown hair - as she stepped lopsidedly into the living room, carrying a tray of roast pork. He glared at her from his seat on the couch in front of the blaring television set.
Thunder exploded outside and rain beat wickedly at the apartment door as the little vixen muttered, "I went as fast as I could..." Her limping gait was caused by an injury her father had dealt her a week before, for forgetting to clean the mud off of his boots. She wore nothing more than a simple white t-shirt, now completely filthy, and loose sweats with holes in the knees... while her father sported an outfit that cost more than he had spent on her in her entire life. An outfit that she had to wash every three days, under penalty of severe ass-kicking.
The vixen strode awkwardly across the cramped, clutter-laden living room and placed the roast on the coffee table before her father and her father's husky-friend, who often stopped by to get free food and help abuse her. Once the vixen's paws were free, she staggered off as quickly as she possibly could, to escape further punishment, which loomed invariably in the near future, casting it's long and sinister shadow across her body - but alas, her movement was to no avail, as she was halted by a sharp bark from her father.
"Hey! Where ya think yer goin', bitch?"
The vixen froze in her tracks, and despair clouded in like locusts on a crop of sweet summer corn. Hopeless fear clutched her heart. Here it was. She had avoided it all day, but it had finally come - the last, most awful punishment was due. The insults were nothing to her, she had heard them all, and she was used to them by now. The beatings were terrible, horrible things, too, but she could take it. She wouldn't show fear of being hit. But the things her father would do to her now... she winced to think even think about it. Her daily dose of hell. Her toes flexed nervously and her blunt claws dug into the dirty brown carpet as she waited for the old man to speak.
When he did, he said, "You was late, an' I ain't lettin' you off the hook, I ain't never let you off the hook before. Get yer tight little ass over here..."
The vixen shuddered miserably and felt tears welling up in her eyes. She turned around as slowly as she dared, and began the short walk across the room. Many horrid feelings settled in - she knew what was coming. The closer she got to the two fat, sweaty dogs on the couch, the stronger the odor of cigarettes and beer became. She wept silently as she laid eyes on her father's face - he had on his evil smile, the smile that meant only one thing. It meant that he wanted some pussy, and he was going to get it, one way or the other. It didn't matter to him who he got it from - "a pussy is a pussy" was his usual argument, and he stuck true to that belief. Doesn't matter if it's on your daughter, or your wife, or your friend, or your friend's wife, or whatever. It was still a pussy. In the end, nothing else really mattered to him - he knew what he wanted.
The husky-friend never made any attempts to stop the vixen's father, nor did he report the man for any form of abuse - on the contrary, he often joined in when his friend raped his the girl, sometimes even suggesting new forms or torture that were tried out immediately. The young girl could do little more than roll over and accept the two big men as they satiated their appetites, as they rammed their cocks down her throat, or fingered her up the ass, or did whatever the hell they wanted to do to her. There was nothing she could do to fight back - she used to struggle, but it only made the experience tougher. They overpowered her and made sure she was sorry for resisting.
For years it had gone on like this - ever since the vixen's mother (her father's last play toy) ran away, she was the one who had to take the heat instead. Now she was the bitch. Now she was the slave. Just another piece of property for some fat-ass slob to fuck with. And now, for what would (unbeknownst to any of them) be the last time, she was going to get it, and get it good.
The vixen reached the couch she hated so much, with its holes and loose springs and cum stains. Her father patted the empty section of cushion between himself and his friend, still grinning like Satan, and she obediently took her seat. She watched as the men on either side of her began to feast on the roast she had prepared so short a time ago. She grew envious as they tore away at it, as sauce dribbled down their chins, as they gorged themselves. She would consider it lucky to even get a few scraps after they were finished. Of course, she didn't dare eat any while she was preparing it. It was far too risky, and if her father discovered even the slightest sign that she had pilfered any of the food that she was supposed to make for him, he'd nail her in the ass so hard that she often started bleeding. Only once had she ever actually stolen part of her father's dinner, and that had been much more than enough. Sure, her father sometimes unjustly pinned the crime on her, but she couldn't help that.
But this time, there was no crime. Not by the vixen, at least.
The vixen gave a sharp gasp as, quite suddenly, her father's paw shot between her legs, and before she could close them, began massaging her mound through her sweats. Realization struck her instantly. She moaned once, but not out of pleasure - she hated this. It didn't feel good. Not like it was supposed to. Any enjoyment from sex with her father that the vixen experienced was negated by the fact that, one, he was her father, and two, he was raping her. She didn't want to do it. He forced her. He didn't care if she screamed and sobbed and begged for him to please just stop. He wanted it, he took it. And right now, he wanted to massage her inner thighs, so he did, despite the fact that her legs were shut tight around his paw. He rubbed and fingered, drawing moisture through her panties, and getting himself aroused as well.
The wolf's husky-friend decided to join the fun, and gripped tight the young vixen's prematurely developed breasts, eliciting another sharp gasp from her. Her face contorted from its normally pretty shape into one of hatred and anguish as the fat man kneaded her chest and started puffing hungrily. His breath reeked. Drool trickled from the corner of his bottom lip as he groped and groaned. The vixen's father worked her pussy harder and faster with his fingertips, now actually depressing her pants into her slit, deeper every second. He licked his lips as he twisted his fingers about inside her. Oh yeah, this was going to be a good one.
"See, Japes... this ain't so bad," he muttered, horniness dripping from his voice like bird shit on the Statue of Liberty.
Japes - the vixen - didn't answer him. She only scrunched up her face more. Of course, they both knew it was going to BE bad eventually. They knew it was going to get much worse. He was just fucking with her head. Acting nice, feigning affection and compassion, when the only thing that was really on his mind was her pussy, and how much he wanted to be inside it. He continued masturbating her, though she didn't enjoy it, and he thought that his fingers were no real substitute for his cock when it came to what was up there. But it was, at least, giving him a big-ass hard-on. And that would come in handy soon.
Japes experienced all the familiar emotions that being helpless brought on, as well as the feelings - much worse feelings - that being raped came with. Guilt, fear, anger, it was all there, conglomerated into, overall, a sense of separation. A sort of distant view of life and how, in certain cases, one might wish that their own would end. And Japes had wished that many times. Far too many.
Her father yanked his had free of her legs and grabbed the waist-band of her sweat-pants. He tugged at them violently until he succeeded in dragging them down around her knees. By unfortunate instinct, Japes convulsed away from him, breaking away from the husky's grip on her tits, only to be shoved roughly back against the sofa by both men. Her father wiped his paw on her leg as though she had dirtied them somehow, and proceeded to completely pull her pants off. Her panties were still shoved up in her pussy, but she made no attempts to remove them as her father began working her shirt up over her head. She wore no bra, so at a certain point, her strangely full breasts spilled into the open with nothing to hold them back, and the husky immediately moved in to suck on them.
Japes gritted her teeth as her arms were forcibly raised and her shirt went soaring across the living room. The husky's hot tongue lashed her nipples and explored her chest, his sour spit matting her white belly-fur. Japes, as always, only sat back and hoped it would all be over soon. Her father joined in, licking her tits and reaching down her panties to scoop out a finger-load of hot goo.
She was thrown, landing on the coffee table. Her father kicked her in the ass with his bare foot from where he sat, shoving her forward, so she lay draped over the piece of furniture like a blanket. She listened and heard the men stand up. The couch squeak in relief and muffled thuds followed as they walked up and took their positions.
Japes' father was behind her. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, sniffing deeply as he did so. The scent of Japes' juices was enough to erect what was left soft in his shaft, and he pulled himself a few times. He dealt his daughter as hard few spankings, each of them drawing a cry from her, then aimed his head and shoved his cock into her. Japes grunted as her pussy was stretched and filled by the fat slab of meat, and more tears spilled down her cheeks. Her father gave a great, satisfied sigh, which she felt because his hot breath blasted out with such force, and then he began to thrust. Japes gritted her teeth even tighter. In and out he went, in and out, in and out... his girth slid over her back as he leaned over to reach beneath and squeeze her breasts. The faster he pumped, the harder he squeezed.
The husky was not missing out either. He had moved in front of Japes, down on his knees, and had gotten fully hard watching the scene with her father taking place. He sifted his claws through her hair and grabbed it in a big knot, yanking her head up and steadying in. The moment she cried out in pain, he saw his chance and took it. Her mouth opened and a wail escaped, only to be gagged and muffled as the husky pushed down his boxers and crammed his cock into her throat. She gagged and coughed, but he showed no remorse, and began pulling her head (still by the hair) back and forth on his rod, making sure to keep himself depressed against her tongue.
Japes felt like a pig spitted over a fire. She almost wished she actually was - at least she'd be out of this misery. No pain that pigs went through was like this. Her father continually punched his groin into her, harder and harder, faster and faster, rougher with each passing moment. The husky was still strangling her, pushing his hips forward and pulling them back, violating her pretty young face. Slimy, runny spit oozed from her lips, and her pussy was gushing it's involuntary arousal like crazy. Her ass ached, her tits flopped, and her heart screamed for mercy.
There was no intervention for a while. Japes eventually found herself exhausted and uncaring - she just took it all and waited for the end. By now, she must have been loose enough to hide a wireless telephone in her vagina, and she assumed that she'd be able to swallow much more considerable portions of food when all this was through. She was shaking, tearful, hurting all over, but emotionally and mentally numb, as usual. This is what always went on during her own ravishing.
She could feel pleasure well enough, pleasure as her sweet young cavity hugged her father's manhood time and time again... but it was strange, it was pleasure she didn't enjoy, a bittersweet reward for being the spawn of a jackass. It wouldn't be so bad under different circumstances. In fact, if she was older and unrelated to the men in any way, she would have rather enjoyed swallowing up a few cocks as big as theirs. But, unfortunately, she was NOT older and she WAS related to one of them. Now, it seemed rather cruel rather than pleasurable. And it was. But they didn't give a fuck. They never had.
It felt good... no, it hurt. She liked it, and she hated it. She would like it, but she didn't. It was all a little confusing.
Finally, both men's thrusts seemed to slow down, yet grow more forceful. She knew what was coming. She felt a hot, sticky burst in her pussy. Her father packed his cum into her with a few more brief thrusts, then pulled out with a slurping sound, breathing hard, like he had just won a race or something. Soon after, she tasted another salty explosion as the husky-friend came hard in her mouth. Her cheeks were inflated with the nasty stuff, and she tried to avoid gulping it down, until he pulled away and it all splashed onto the carpet.
She lay in silence on the table as her father refastened his pants and rubbed ripe, pillowy swelling of her little ass. The husky redid his own as well, and went back to the couch to stare at her cunt. It was quiet except for all of their heavy panting, the TV still screaming crappy commercials, and the relentless downpour outside that tapped and knocked at the window.
"We're goin' out," said her father at last, not removing his paw from her backside just yet. "I ain't gonna get back till 'round midnight, but when I do, all this better be cleaned up... I'm lockin' the doors an' disconnectin' the phones. I don't want no funny shit from you. Got it?"
Japes nodded miserably.
"Good. If it ain't done, I'm takin' yer ass to bed wit' me tonight, an' you ain't gonna like it."
Japes sniffled.
Her father and his friend got up and brushed themselves off, as they had done so many times before. Japes waited until they were gone, out the door, down the stairs, and driving off in the car, before she moved at all. And when she did, it wasn't much. She couldn't clean now, she was far too exhausted. She would just grab a little nap on the couch first. Yeah, that would be good. And oh-so welcome....
...Japes was - she couldn't believe it - happy. Her heart was beating strong and lively, and her smile showed it - she was grinning a wide, beautiful grin, the kind of grin a girl like her should have on all the time. But nothing in her life had changed, it seemed - same messy apartment, same abusive father. Hell, it was even the same night. Rain pounded the streets below the window, and howling wind tore at the screen.
So why did she feel so happy? It was strange, but she actually didn't know. Something was happening maybe. Perhaps it was because her father was still gone. And why was she standing like she was? Crouched behind the sofa, peering around the corner at the door... she must have been waiting for something. She flexed her paws, and realized that she was carrying a meat-cleaver.
Oh... well now it was beginning to make sense. She recognized the cleaver, too. It was the one her father got a few years ago to cut steak and beef, with its polished oaken handle, its stainless steel blade that curved and came to a wicked edge all the way up and down, the little ring that dangled at the bottom... she KNEW this blade. She knew this whole dream. It was completely life-like, extremely vivid, so much so that she could smell the smoky stench of her father still hanging in the air.
And he was out right now. He would be back soon.
What a nice dream this would be. It all felt so right. But she knew it was wrong. Either way, she fucking loved it.
A car door slammed outside. Japes' stomach fluttered wonderfully, in a way she had never experienced before. It felt good, knowing what the future held - he was going to step inside and get his. And that would be it. It would all be over after that... or would it?
Japes tensed. The moment she had been waiting for all her life... without actually realizing it... was approaching fast. She felt the vibes in the earth as her father and his friend walked up the stairs... her blood was on fire... their footsteps pulsed through the floor. She could hear them... she could already smell their blood... she could practically taste it. She heard the key in the lock... click, click, click...
A scream. A flash of silver, and her father was no more. A few fingers on the ground... still alive, so... another one gone... and an image. Oh, what a wonderful image. Her father and his fat friend, pinned to the door by stake-like nails (kept in the closet). Their blood escaped down the stairs, smearing and swirling in the rain and puddles. Nobody below was aware of it. What a perfect picture. Japes couldn't help herself - she laughed, and laughed, and laughed...
Japes was awakened hours later by the sound of her father's real car door slamming shut. For the briefest of moments, she was confused and disappointed... then quite happy again. Her dreams were her friends. Unlike her father, they seemed to want the best for her. They just told her what was best, it HAD to be the best. She wanted it more than anything. She was going to have it.
She smiled as she stood up and scuttled into the kitchen. She was without fear, now. All was right. She knew what to do at last.