CHAPTER 2

      Brad sat in his beat-down lazy-boy, with his feet up high on the retractable bench. His hand wandered blindly over the cheap, TV-tray. It's task: find the remote. It darted around, restlessly feeling over the same can of Andras beer, a half-full ashtray, TV schedule, but no fucking remote. The hand became a tight fist, and slammed down into the weak table, sending it, and all of its contents crashing to the ground.

      "Lizabeth!" His voice boomed over the tele, "where the fucks the remote?"

      Lisabeth sat quietly in her room, the four gruesome yellow walls of the kitchen, sipping on her sixth glass of Thaobath wine. She sat here, as she sat every Sunday evening, sipping her wine, and feeling herself grow old.

      The silence of her numbed thoughts was brutally interrupted by Brad's bellowing. His voice seemed only to echo in the back of her head, "get over here you fuckin' cunt!" That last word sending her mind spiraling back to reality, spilling the content of the glass unto the front of her pants. Both the splash, and the wetness of the liquid caused her sex to dampen. The sensation causing the twenty-six year old mother of four to let her head fall back an sigh softly.

      "Ya goddamn fuckin' whore!" Brad took a handful of his wife's hair in his hands, and slammed her head into the table. "When I call you bitch, you come runnin'!" He pulled her to her feet, some hairs being pulled clear out. She screamed and gripped his arm with both hands, digging the nails into his worn flesh.

      "Ya wanna play ruf eh you stupid cunt!" His other hand reached down the back of her panties, rubbing his thick dirty fingers between her arse cheeks and pushing it into her very wet sex with only a mild degree of friction. He smiled, as he forced two more fingers into her tight opening, this time she gave a sharp yelp. Brad's erection bubbled at the front of his pants.

      Inside her damp flower, his fingers bent, and his nails scraped at the ceiling of the vagina. Tears flowed from the young mothers eyes as she muffled her pleads to stop.

      Brad released her hair, and brought that hand down to the front of her pants. His fingers fooling around with the button and zipper, to no avail. Her own dish-panned hands gave some help, and undid both with ease.

      He pulled his fingers from her wet, excited sex and backed away, rubbing the hardness that pushed, and throbbed obscenely at the front of his pants. From his back pocket he produced a twenty, and threw it at his wife. The crumbled, green bill glided, and spun in the air, landing between them.

      Her eyes stared down at the money, and she sighed and frowned. Defeated, she slowly stripped before him, revealing the scrawny structure of her abused frame. Sharp jutting hip bones, the coarse, curly brown pubic hair that obscured her sex, and the two gaunt stilts that supported her meek frame.

      Brad unzipped his jeans, and reached in with his hands to pull out the hard, thick, red cock that desperately sought to be freed.

      Lisabeth started to undo her blouse, but Brad sharply made her stop, "I doen' wanna see none of that fuckin' milk shit, I ain't no fuckin' faggot." She eyed him carefully, watching him, from the corner of view, massage his penis in long slow strokes.

* * * * * *

      Jimmy stirred from his sleep, Sera's warm arm wrapped securely around his waist, her warm breath heating the back of his neck. He rolled over, still with her arm around his waist, and kissed her tender lips. She smiled, and pushed her head deeper into the pillow.

      The young boy, rolled out of bed, and grabbed the PJs off the floor and crept into them. His bladder demanded attention, and he quietly scurried from the room.

      In the living room, the crimson coloured beer soaked a large bloody stain into the pale carpet. The image caught his attention, as if this were the scene of some bloody incident. The images played in his head, as he grabbed his penis tightly in his hand hoping to stem off the tide of urine.

      As if to play with his daydreams, a stifled gag penetrated his ears. He twisted his testicles as almost to get a better reception, and became more attentive to the sounds of violence in the house.

      Carefully, the young ninja become one with the wall, and slid himself towards the kitchen. His eyes peeking around the corner, he captured the scene into his memory. His eyes studied all the particular details of what he could.

* * * * * *

      Lisabeth squatted down on her toes, her thighs spread open enough that the soft pink of her sex could be seen through the coarse jungle of her pubic hair. She gagged as Brad's cock hit the back of her throat, his hands on the back of her head pushing her to swallow his shaft whole. Her nose pressed hard against the rough, curly brown hairs and flesh above his sex.

      The intensity of his orgasm was building, and he started to ram her face hard against his lower stomach. The head of his prick assaulting the back of her throat, and she lost all control over her jaw as the teeth began to scape and bite his shaft. This is he didn't feel, the surge of his climax dulled his senses, and everything became a blur. She found herself struggling against his strength, as he continued to pummel her face against his body.

      The young boy stood horrified as he heard the death-cry choking gasps of his mother, while Brad continued to force her face into the lost wilderness of his underbelly hair. Inside, his stomach tightened and turned, and soft warm tears were falling uncontrollably from his eyes. His mouth hung open, silently screaming. Then he heard sounds that would forever be burnt in him. Brad grunting, gasping and growling as his mothers nose crashed into his father loins, and the her fiery blood ejaculate from the fractured nose, splashing against the cold, hard linoleum. Brad's head falling back as he pushed his hips out, forcing more of himself into her mouth. His mother's eyes fluttered as she fell back onto the hard floor, thick, dark crimson blood exuding from her twisted nose, and a pale, slimy liquid dripping from the sides of her lips. She sat splayed on the floor, her head resting against a kitchen chair, as her eyes fluttered in the back of her head.

      Brad growled angrily, "you fuckin' cunt, look whatcha' did to ma cock! Ya goddamn whore!" He took his bloody hand and wrapped it around the side of her face in one quick movement of his arm. The blood sprayed across the floor, and she fell sideways crashing with a dull thud.

      Jimmy yelped.

      Brad spun around and stared the young boy dead in the eyes. "What the fuck do ya think ya'r doing there? Get ya'r hand off ya'r cock before God himself strikes ya'r retarded ass down himself!" He turned to Lisabeth, who lay on her side in a semi-conscious state, "look what ya raised Lizzy, look what kind of fuckin' perverded son ya gave life to! He's a fuckin' cunt, just like his mom!" His attention went back to young Jimmy, standing there with his hand still cupping his testicles and a dim look across his face. Brad reached over to the counter-top and grabbed a solid frying pan. "Duck boy."

* * * * * *

      The young ninja could no longer keep his silence, and his bladder exploded pouring a hot wetness down his legs, trickling into a pool on the floor. He could sense an impending doom as the darkness approached quickly, and yet he felt himself trapped, his feet locked to the floor, his body paralysed.

      A fire exploded underneath his right eye. Pain and darkness.