5 comments/ 38779 views/ 6 favorites The House in the Valley Ch. 01 By: FinalStand *There is a gulf that separates Bad People and People who do bad things* I came to the House in the Valley pretty much by luck. I had been on the run for twelve hours and I was hot, dirty, hungry and exhausted. My clothes were torn, I was cut up from thorns and brambles, and my feet ached from running on the uneven ground of the countryside. I was lucky to find the place in the dark. It was a massive ranch-style house that appeared to be well off the beaten path. I felt luck, but first a little background. My name is Bartholomew 'Bart' Travers and I tend to make bad choices in friends. My current predicament was brought about by my best buddy Eddie Marx. I'd been bailing Eddie since elementary school. I took it a step further when Eddie got in a fight with a guy when we were fifteen. The guy tried to stab Eddie so we tussled and I ended stabbing this dude. I spent six months in juve -- alone. When I got out, I hooked up with Eddie again but things were never the same. Eddie had gone from crazy to crazy-mean. One night Eddie told me to meet up with him at a nearby corner grocery. He's waiting around when we get there. He presses this gun into my hands and tells me we are going to rob the place. I freak, but Eddie begs me to back him up. Stupid me, I agree. We go in and Eddie and I pretend to be looking for shit to eat. Suddenly Eddie runs up to the store owner and starts yelling at him for all his money. I move up so that I can cover the door as well as Eddie. Eddie gives me this crazy look then shoots the guy -- or, shoots at the guy. Eddie, that loser, misses. The store owner comes up with a shotgun and cuts Eddie in two. Now I'm thinking that running for my life is the right thing to do. My mind does the quick math of me making it to the door and the speed at which the guy with the shotgun can aim at me. I step out and scream at the top of my lungs that I'm running away. I hold the gun up pointed at the ceiling. The bastard shoots at me anyway. There are Cheetos everywhere. Of its own accord, my arm comes down and I fire the pistol. The guy falls down behind the counter. I start running and don't stop even when I reach the truck stop miles outside the city. There I see a Highway Patrol car and I take off behind the place going overland. In the city I pretty much stayed away from parks. To say I have no knowledge of the wilderness is putting it mildly. I was so lucky to find that house; I could have wandered the wilds until I die of thirst. I came to the back of the house and found a door with glass panels that appeared to lead to a kitchen. I got ready to knock out a pane when my professional criminal training took over. I tried the doorknob and opened the door. It swung open quietly and I breathed a sigh of relief. First thing I did was make it to the refrigerator and pig out. There were all kinds of healthy shit, like apples, peaches, and carrots. I was so hungry I choked down some hotdogs raw. I was putting some stuff on the island in the middle of the kitchen when I noticed movement. I shut the door and pulled my gun out. There was this girl/woman in a mid-thigh length white teddy with midnight black hair that hangs down to her waist. She stars at me with large dark eyes that gave her face a child-like appearance. "Don't move or scream and I won't hurt you," I whisper. She nods. "Is there anyone else in the house?" Again she nods. "Take them to me." She stares at me and I suddenly feel like a total idiot. "Take me to them," I correct myself." She turns and slowly walks out of the kitchen. She stops and waits for me to follow. I start noticing there were a lot of flowers in the house. She leads me down the hallway past several doors, some closed and some open to a variety of rooms. I notice one looks like a kind of game room, the kind that had both a PS2 and an X-box, not that I've actually owned either. Finally we come to the room at the end of the hallway. The door is slightly open so she pushes so that I can look in. I look over her shoulder and see a second woman who looks like the sister of the first lying on a huge bed is propped up on her elbows and is looking at me. "He's come looking for food," the first girl says in a hauntingly sexy voice. The second girl nods and pulls aside the covers and swings out of bed. She is dressed identically to the first girl and it dawns on me that they were twins. "What are you going to do to us?" the second girl asks me. "I'm not going to do anything to you if I cooperate," I promise. "Oh," she says in that identical haunting voice. She almost sounds disappointed. "Let's get you some food." She walks right to me, ignoring the gun and edges passed me to the corridor. "Let us feed you." "Umm ... okay?" I say. I find myself following the second girl and dragging the first one along with me. "What is your name?" the first one asks. "Bart." "What does that stand for?" the second one inquires. "Bartholomew," I answer. "I don't like Bart," the first one says. "I'm Penelope." "We will call you Bartholomew," the second one states. "I'm Phoebe." "Penelope, Phoebe, I don't want to hurt either one of you. Just give me what I want and I'll be gone in a few hours. All I need is food, a shower, and a little sleep." "We will feed you. What would you like?" Penelope asks. "How about a ham and cheese sandwich; maybe two?" The girls look at one another then smile to me. "We can do that. Sit at the counter and we'll take care of you. You might want to keep your gun pointed at us. We are very dangerous," Phoebe jokes in that lilting tone. Considering I'm six foot-two and two hundred pounds of muscle plus I have a gun, and they are perhaps five-seven and one-thirty, even combined I can take them. "Okay, I'll make sure to keep an eye on you both," I humor them. They stare at me with this kind smile that I'm I normally get from nerdy girls when I stop some thug from shaking them down for their homework. As they fix me my sandwiches and some soda to drink, they keep stealing glances at me. I keep the gun on the counter as I fidget. "What's with all the flowers?" I ask idly. "We buried our Father today. He died Wednesday of a heart attack. It was very sudden. We miss him terribly because he was the center of our life," Penelope explains. I jump up and wave my hands in despair. "God! I'm sorry. I didn't know. I'll take the sandwiches and go." "No, please," Phoebe says. "If ... if you leave we will have to call the Sheriff and he will arrest you." "Oh crap," I moan. "This is the last thing I need. I already have enough trouble." "What are you in trouble for?" Penelope inquires. I hesitate to tell them. They look so alone and vulnerable; not to mention kind of sexy now that I was no longer starving. I have to leave. "I killed a man, or I think I killed a man," I respond. "How does someone think they killed someone?" Phoebe asks. "I shot a man in the chest after he blew my buddy in half. We were robbing the guy's store, so even though I didn't mean to shoot him, I'm still going to jail forever if they catch me." "That's so sad," the both declare softly. I'm diving into the food and am starting in on the second sandwich when I notice Penelope (or is that Phoebe?) moving her hand toward my gun. I snatch it up and glare at her. "Don't do that," I bark. The offending girl seems contrite. "You had better restrain me," she responds. "Yes, you can't trust her," the second one says. "We have twisty ties in the draw over there," she says indicating a drawer. "Penelope?" I guess. "I'm Phoebe," she corrects me. "Fine Phoebe, I'm going to have to tie you up now. You shouldn't have tried that." She nods meekly. These girls are starting to creep me out. I grab Phoebe by the arm dragging her over to the indicated drawer and pull out the ties. I stare at her, trying to figure out which way to proceed. She holds her wrists together in front of herself and looks up at me. I repeat -- creepy. I tie her wrists together, study the situation then have her kneel down. I twisty-tie her ankles together too. I finish my meal in silence. "Okay, I'm going to take a shower. Penelope, come here and I'll tie you up to," I command. "No," Penelope says. "If you tie us up together we'll untie one another. You had better take me with you." "But I'm going to take a shower." "I know. Can I take my clothes off first?" Penelope questions me. "I guess ... why would I do that?" "You have to keep an eye on me, don't you? I have to get in the shower with you because you can't trust me out of your sight," Penelope explains. "I ..." "You had better keep the gun on her," Phoebe adds. "Better yet, keep a hand on her at all times." "Ah ... thanks for the tip." I take a second to realize how I'm being used. "Phoebe, are you comfortable?" She looks up at me, tilts her head quizzically and shakes her head. I stick the gun in my belt, kneel beside Phoebe and heft her up with one swift pull. She folds into my arms as I swing her up and stand. "Where is a sofa, or bed?" I ask Penelope. She starts walking into the next room without comment. She motions to a sofa in what seems to be a cavernous living area. I kind of wish I had asked her to cut on a light as I navigate the furniture to set Phoebe down. I prop a pillow under her head trying to make her as comfortable as possible. "Are you going to be okay?" I inquire. "Thank you, yes," she smiles, but it's a strange sort of smile that makes me think there is some joke that I'm missing. I think I'm too tired and am starting to imagine things. I move to Penelope who has been studying me the entire time. "Come on," I sigh. "Take me to the shower and we can get this over with." Penelope nods and takes the way down the corridor that leads to the room she was sleeping in. She walks into a large bathroom and cuts on the lights. I've put the gun on the vanity and started in on my sneakers when I spot her shifting out of her nightgown in one subtle gesture. "Oh Fuck!" I blurt out as I spin and look at her. Okay, her tits could be bigger, but they are firm with large dark areolas that accentuate her ivory skin and raven hair. Her eyes look extremely large as she meets my gaze. My eyes wander up and down her body. Now I notice her light pink finger and toe nails and neatly trimmed landing strip. "Your boyfriend is a lucky guy," I mutter as I turn away. I'm painfully hard and even thinking about nuns smacking me in the nuts with rulers doesn't do any good. "We don't have boyfriends. Papa didn't approve of boys coming around. That is why were home schooled through high school. "You were home schooled?" I gulp. Penelope nods. "Neither one of us has been alone with a boy since we were nine," she admits. I feel a knot in the pit of my stomach. "You two are virgins? I promise I won't harm you, honest," I groan. Penelope nods. "We believe you," she says softly. "You don't want to hurt us." "Let me take a shower. You wait right here," I command. She gives me this innocent curious look. "If you leave me here I might go free my Sister and call the Sheriff. I really should take me with you." I can't seem to catch a break. The bathtub isn't huge and I know my boner is going to bump against her. I remind myself how much of a bad thing rape is. I pray I can keep it together. "Come on," I sigh as I hold the gun on her. I cut on the water and wait for it to get hot. I can't but notice her staring at my crotch. She tentatively reaches out for my cock. I jump back and shout, "What the hell are doing?" "Is it big," she says by way of a response. "I ... what ... I guess so. I've never taken a ruler out and measured it. I ... noticed guys in the showers in juvie weren't as big most of the time," I babble, not sure why I'm telling her this. "Can I touch it," Penelope asks as she reaches closer to me. I would back up but I'm already at the wall. "NO!" I shout. "Why not?" inquires with those impossibly large child-like eyes. "I might rape you if you touch me," I confess. "Can I touch it," she persists as if she hasn't heard a word I've said. "NO!" I shout again. I motion for her to get into the shower. She does without comment. I follow her in, appreciating how nubile her body is. I groan. I can't even beat one off. I do the best I can with a gun in my hand, finally giving up and putting the gun in the shampoo caddy. As I'm shampooing my hair and have my eyes closed I feel her hands against my chest. I freeze. She runs her hands along my sides and rests them on my buttocks giving me a squeeze. I tense reflexively and she moans. She licks my nipple. "Stop it," I whisper. She persists so I quickly douse my hair in water and rinse. I pick up my gun and put it between us. "Back off," I say trying to sound way meaner and tougher than I really am. "Let's get out and dry ourselves." I keep an eye on her like she's keeping an eye on me. I find my eyes soaking up her body as she dries off. I notice her lower lips are puffy and full. I look up and find her smiling at me. I blush. "It is okay. You can touch me if you like," she tells me in that hauntingly sweet voice. "No thanks," I respond. "Why?" "I don't trust myself with you," I answer. "I trust you," she smiles. "I'm a killer. I could hurt you," I tell her. "I'm not afraid of you," she informs me. "Well I'm afraid of you." "Oh," she says in surprise. That turns into an appreciative look which turns into that tilted headed weirdness she and her sister share. I start to get dressed when Penelope puts out a hand to stop me. "Don't put on your old clothes. We can wash them. Use one of Papa's old robes until they are done. I would offer you some of Papa's clothes but he was much smaller than you. I want to argue but can come up with a good reason. Wordlessly we go to the laundry room and dump my clothes in and get the cycle going. I go in and check on Phoebe. She's thirsty so I get her some orange juice. She and Penelope are talking quietly when I return. Phoebe thanks me when I finish helping her drink. I have Penelope put the glass in the sink. "Let's go to bed," Penelope says out of the blue. I'm looking around for something to keep me awake while I wait for my clothes to get out of the dryer. "What?" "You can wrap an arm around me so that you will wake if I move. You can put the gun on the night stand so I can't reach it. I won't do anything to hurt you." She sounds so fucking logical, I am damn tired, and I am the idiot that followed my dead idiot friend Eddie into a bodega so he could get his stupid ass killed. I do as she suggests but promise myself to keep one eye open. Penelope cuddles up against me and I feel so warm. She's running her hand through my hair when drop off to sleep. (Later) My reflexes are pretty good. I sense something before I see it and reach for the gun. One of the girls is standing over me with a skillet or frying pan (I'm not a cook). As I'm moving something pulls on my other arm, keeping me in place. The 'thing' comes down on my forehead it hurts like hell. I yank on the restraining arm; I hear a squeal of surprise as I drag Penelope (?) with me. Down comes that heavy 'thing' again, this time to my temple. I'm trying to raise the gun up when I catch the shadow of Phoebe's movement through my blurred vision. Everything goes dark. There is something cold pressing up against my throbbing skull. A groan escapes me and my eyes open slightly. Ambient light is flowing in. I guess it is early morning so I haven't been unconscious too long. One of the two is crouched beside me dabbing my head with an ice bag. "Oh, you are awake. Penelope," Phoebe calls out, "he's awake." Penelope comes running into the room. I decide to not wait for a three-way fight so a sit up ... or would sit up if my arms weren't tied to the opposite bed posts with nylon rope. I struggle but there is very little give in the rope. I pant and exert until I notice the girls studying my naked body in rapt fascination. "What is going on here? When is the Sheriff coming for me?" I sigh. "Oh, we won't call the Sheriff," Penelope says with a friendly smile. She pulls a massive kitchen knife from behind her back. I definite don't like the way this is going. "Penelope wants to kill you because she's never seen a person bleed out before," Phoebe tells me with the vacant smile you normally get from a server at McDonalds. "I want to keep you around to have sex with so we will know if we like it or not," Phoebe explains. "I prefer your plan to Penelope's," I gulp. "Then we'll kill you," Phoebe concludes. I gulp again. "How about you untie me, we get some breakfast and we can talk this over?" I suggest. "No," Penelope says waving the knife in my direction like a twisted conductor leading a ghost symphony, "you had the chance to hurt me last night but you didn't take it. You could have fucked me until I was bleeding and broken at your feet," she adds with great disappointment. "You left me tied up all night on the sofa helpless. I left my ass up in the air hoping you would come and rape me, until I got so frustrated I had to come looking for you. You left me very dissatisfied," Phoebe concluded. "I'm going to die because I was nice to you?" I say with incredulity. "Yes," they respond as one. "We once had a dog that would bite us, but we played with it too hard and it died. After that Papa wouldn't let us have any more pets. We beat up kids in school but they never fought back. Finally we pinned a boy to the ground and broke his arm with a rock, but all that made him do was lie on the ground screaming like a little baby. That was no fun. After that Papa kept us at home all the time. We've been alone until you came along. "You two are insane," I whisper in shock. They smile that ghostly innocent smile that is both erotically charged and totally wacked at the same time. "Oh," Phoebe grins, "He's excited by our story." Actually, I'm terrified by their story. "How about this; if you pleasure both of us I'll drive an ice pick through your eye to kill you quickly, but if you don't make us happy, Penelope will get to carve you up with her knife. Do you agree to this?" "How do you know that the ice pick to the brain is painless?" I have to ask. "I read about it on the internet," Phoebe sighs. "It is most likely possibly true." I gulp again. "How about this; one of you keeps the gun on me while the other one has sex with me and I get to use my hands. Sex is better that way." The twins look at one another and exchange that spooky twin psychic thing before looking at me and nodding. Phoebe takes off her teddy and underwear and I can tell she's already wet by the stain on the panties. Penelope retrieves my gun, goes to the foot of the bed, my revolver pointed out me. It occurs to me that neither girl has a clue what they are doing as Phoebe unties me. I wait for a few seconds when Phoebe gives me that crucial bit of information. "Papa blocked all the sexually explicit channels." I toy with the idea of trying to make this wonderful, but I decide to get this over with. I can't bring myself to be romantic with a girl who is going to kill me no matter what I do. I grab Phoebe by the upper arms and bring her up for a kiss. Her large eyes go wider and I have to muscle my tongue into her mouth. "Mm mph," she mumbles. I press her lips harder will pushing my tongue in farther and pressing her tongue down. She moans and goes almost limp in my grasp. Now I'm getting really angry. I flip her over so that I'm on top of her. I push her unresisting legs apart and aim myself toward her entrance. I switch my arms so that one is in a fist by her head and the other has hooked her leg and moved it over my shoulder. I bend her back painfully and her biting her lower lip is my reward. I feel my penis touch the wetness of her vagina. The House in the Valley Ch. 01 "This is going to hurt," I growl at her. She nods her head, still biting her lower lip. I don't slide it in; I ram it in. There is something that tries to slow me down, but I grind down on her will all my weight. She screams out so loud I'm afraid she's hurt my ears. I don't care, I don't relent, and I keep on pounding away at her with all the anger I've pent up over the years. I hook the other leg so that I can go even deeper. She's terribly tight, but in my limited experience, I can't tell how tight. She is very wet though. Her hands start reaching around to my back and dig in. She is screaming out every time I drill her and cries whenever I pull out. I find myself really glad this isn't being a good experience for her. Maybe this will save the life of the next poor bastard to come this way. I look down and realize that there is blood down there along with copious amounts of fluids. I can't help but notice Phoebe's noises are changing. Her next scream catches me off-guard. She tries to push me off with her legs, but she's just not strong enough. Her head swings back violently from side to side. She seems totally lost in whatever state she's in. I increase my pace and violence of my impacts. She starts saying something so softly I can't at first make it out. "Harder ... faster ..." she moans. The pistol behind me clicks as the hammer is pulled back. "Don't you dare pull out," Penelope warns me. What choice do I have? I keep pounding her sister like she's nothing more than a slab of meat. I think she came the first time her head tossed around. This time I have no doubt. It feels like a firehouse down there as her muscles contract at the same time fluid rushes painfully against my balls and coats my thighs. I have to stop. My muscles are taunt and exhausted. I'm cramping up so I push up away from Phoebe, let her legs fall to the side and fall to the other. "I didn't tell you to stop," threatens Penelope. "I need a break," I pant. She holds me in a pitiless gaze. That revolver barrel looks cavernous. "No," wheezes Phoebe, "it was awesome; painful and thrilling at the same time. I felt him ripping me in two. I never thought I could hurt so much," she finished in angelic smile. "You have to do this too." "What the fuck?" I mutter out loud. "Come take the gun," Penelope tells her sister. "I want to feel him with your juices still on his penis." "Do I get a vote in this?" I hope. I feel sore. "No," the both say in a very pleasant and reasonable tone that reminds me that they are both fucking nuts. Penelope puts the gun into Phoebe's trembling hands. I contemplate rushing her right then, but for some reason I don't want to die this very second. Penelope takes Phoebe's place, even placing her hands behind her knees and opening herself up to me. The look she gives me is indescribable; part innocent curiosity, part primal animalistic hunger. Somehow she makes it work. "No," I tell Penelope. Before either one can protest, I reach down and push Penelope on to her right side. She keeps looking up at me. "On your hands and knees," I instruct her. She hastens to obey and seen she is directing her ass right at me. I run two fingers along her ass crack and down to her pussy, I stick both fingers in. It is terribly tight but she is getting wetter by the thrust. "Oh, your fingers are thicker than Phoebe's," Penelope moans. I move around a little bit and she bends down farther so that she's on her elbows. For a moment I'm considering her asshole, but I've never done anal sex and I'm not sure how much pain it will cause both of us. I'm okay with her feeling bad, but my last moments on earth shouldn't suck worse than the already do. I move up behind her and move my dick up and down on her slit. She moans again and tries to rock back. I enter her only a little bit, but that seems to be causing her more discomfort than she can handle. She needs to get pushed. I grab hold of her hips tightly and start to push with a lot more control than I showed Phoebe. This time when I hit her obstruction I hesitate. I have a flash of inspiration. I reach over and run my hand through the back of her head. Grabbing a strong handful, I painfully yank back. "Back on your hands, you Bitch!" I snarl. She cries out but obeys. Only then does it occur to me that Phoebe might take offense to my actions. She remains strangely silent, so I keep at it. I place my free hand on her stomach and pull her up against me. From my few feel-up actions I am aware of a woman's clit and where it is normally placed. Penelope and Phoebe have pronounced clits. As she falls against me, she is slowly impaled on my cock. I can feel her thighs tense desperately as she fights against the pain of the intrusion. We both know she's going to lose. She sobs softly when I breach her hymen. By the time I touch the back of her womb she's crying out loud. "It hurts," she whimpers. That makes me pull back on her hair harder. She gives a sharp intake of breath followed by a moan as I thrust deeper into her. Soon her sweaty ass is slapping against my thighs soaked with her sister's juices. Now I feel around for her clit. She jolts when I find it and I start pulling and rubbing against it mercilessly. She immediately floods me crotches and presses against me so hard I almost fall over on my back. I don't let up. I start betting and sucking on her neck and shoulder. She starts massaging her own breasts and moaning even louder. "Harder," she pants. "I'm going to cum in you, you Bitch," I growl into her ear before I bite it. "Please," she whimpers. I'm not sure if she's asking me to come, or not to come. "Please come in me," she clarifies. I can't win. I also can't stop from coming. I let go of her hair and move one hand to her hips so I can grind into her as much as I can. I'm rubbing her clit furiously. I explode in her harder than I've ever come before. I can't get over how turned on I am. I also can't get over how powerful, warm and wet my thighs and crotch have become. The whole bed is soaked in their juices. I let Penelope flop forward boneless. She's still moaning and she manages to turn her hair-covered face toward Phoebe. "You were so right," she whispers. "The pain ... it is so wonderful, and to have something so deep inside me ... I never imagined." Phoebe points the gun right at my forehead. I want to think I've had a good run, but for the love of God I'm only eighteen! The hammer is pulled back yet again. Phoebe looks amused with the fear in my eyes. That barrel looks awful big from this angle. "How about a bite to eat before round two?" I grin with as much hope as I can muster. (There may be a Chapter Two. I'm not sure right now) The House in the Valley Ch. 02 *Survival is not just knowing what you have, but in knowing what is arrayed against you * "Exactly why am I digging this hole again?" I ask while standing knee deep in this pit I've created. "It should take you about four hours to dig a grave big enough for us to bury you in," Phoebe tells me. "But why am I digging it?" I persist. "Because if you don't dig it, Penelope and I will have to dig it and we don't want to," she smiles. Penelope comes out in a diaphanous sundress that the cool morning breeze make dance around her slender form. She has a tray of lemonade and three glasses. "How are you doing this morning, Bartholomew?" Penelope says in some way reminds me of my Mother. "I've brought you some lemonade. Do you want me to pour you a glass?" "Sure, why not; are you going to shoot me if I don't drink it fast enough?" I joke bitterly. "No," Penelope smiles dreamily, "but it should take you five minutes to drink it." Five more minutes of life; that's how I've been living this morning. A few minutes there, an hour here, and every time I lack the human dignity to tell them to fuck off and get it over with. Phoebe is cradling what I've been told is a .223 caliber rifle. It sounds small unless it is pointed at you. Penelope has a pistol on her tray. It isn't mine. They tell me mine was a piece of trash and they've thrown it out. Daddy wouldn't have approved of something that crappy in their house. I've never prayed so hard for a guy to come back from the grave as I have for this man to come back and discipline these girls. Penelope pours me a glass and skips over. She extends the glass to me. I step out of the pit and put Penelope between me and Phoebe. I have a shovel. Penelope has a smile. I take the glass and take a sip of the lemonade. Damn, it's the real deal. "May I have a kiss?" I hazard to ask. Penelope leans forward, eyes closed and lips pursed. I still have my shovel. I drop it and put an arm around her waist and dip her as I kiss her. I pull her very breath into me while her hands run over my shoulders and neck. I pull her up from the dip and there is a light in her crazy eyes. "I'll go start lunch," she pants. She flounces away. I look at the shovel and gauge the distance between her and Phoebe and me. "We are having spaghetti, Brussels sprouts, and fruit salad for lunch," Penelope calls out. "How long does that take to eat?" I inquire. "Forty-five minutes, but I'm thinking you get a thirty minute shower before you get to eat with us, so dig quickly," Penelope gives her sing-song reply. I'm celebrating making it to 1p.m. I'm digging away, busting up roots and making some progress when Phoebe approaches me, gun pointed right at me too. "Can you do what you did this morning to us again?" "Actual, except for the shower, that's the best offer I've had all day," I respond. "Would you like to get your hands on my body right now?" she playfully taunts me. She's in boots, sox, cut-off jeans shorts, and a calico vest that has been altered so it exposes her taut belly. Her black hair is pulled back in a ponytail. The gun is pointed at my midsection. I put the shovel aside again and put a hand on her stomach. I make small circles and she moans softly. I step back and get to work once more. "Why didn't you try for it?" Phoebe inquires with honest curiosity. "You are faster than I am. I'd rather not get a hole in my guts before I've had the chance to have lunch. "You are afraid," she states. "That too," I confess. "We are going to kill you eventually anyway," she admits. "Key word: eventually," I grin. "Oh," she says, "you are cleverer than I thought," Phoebe sounds surprised. "Thank you I think," I respond. "You are almost done," she notes a while later. "Can I take you to the shower?" "Are you going to join me?" I offer. "I would like that very much. Let's go inside and I'll get my .44 revolver," Phoebe reasons. Seeing my confusion, "It makes a really big exit wound." Somehow my plan to wrestle her down with her rifle in hand isn't going to work out. "I'll shower alone. I'd hate for you to slip on the soap," I remark snidely. Phoebe shrugs. She gets her pistol, I get in the shower and she pulls the curtain aside and ogles me. "Do you like what you see?" I inquire. "Very much so; you are the most attractive naked man I've ever seen close up," she smiles. Since I'm the only naked man they've seen this means a lot less. (Lunch) Lunch is really good. Only two things make the meal less than stellar. Only when I'm downing the jello does it dawn on me that I'm on my last ten minutes of life. My nervousness makes me get the names of the girls' confused. The more I do, the more the girls find it amusing and the angrier I get. "Fine," I gripe. "Where a Sharpie?" Phoebe (?) directs me to a kitchen drawer. I go, find a black Sharpie and walk up to Phoebe. "Phoebe?" I ask. She nods so I draw a symbol on her forehead. I go to Penelope and put another symbol. They both start giggling uncontrollably. I've never seen two people enjoy the numbers '1' and '2' so much. "Why did you do that?" Penelope giggles. "Sometimes I think you two change your names just to confuse me," I accuse her. "We actually do ... this was really clever on your part figuring a way around our little game. You can watch an hour of TV and then we need you to cut some wood," she informs me. Wow, I may have just earned myself another three hours of life. (Afternoon) I'm cutting wood and my hands are feeling raw even with the gloves. I doubt I've ever worked so hard in my life – funny turn of a phrase. Penelope is watching me now from a low slung wooden lawn chair. She prefers a pump-action shotgun. She tells me that if I actually manage to make it a hundred meters I might survive the shot; lovely girl. Phoebe comes out and asks me if there is anything I want. I ask for a tall glass of cold water, a bowl of ice, and a towel. She seems curious so she goes back to the house to get my requested items. "What are you up to?" Penelope inquires. "As I see it, I have an hour's worth of wood to cut and three hours of sunlight," I hint at my plan. She doesn't get it, which is probably a good thing. I figure as long as I stay entertaining, the longer I can stay alive. Phoebe comes back with the requested items. "What are you going to do with these?" Phoebe asks. I hold up a finger for silence. I proceed to drink the water, because I'm thirsty. I leave the ax in the chopping block, pick up the bowl of ice and go over to Penelope. She and Phoebe level their guns at me, but I don't flinch. If they shoot me now at least I won't have to chop the rest of this damn wood. I pick up the largest ice cube and slowly extend it toward Penelope's chest. The barrel of her gun is pressed against my solar plexus. I press the ice cube against the tip of her nipple and Penelope gasps. I start circling her pert little breast, wetting the thin fabric of her sundress. "Oh Phoebe this feels really nice," she breaths. I kept up it with the first hand while taking up another sliver of ice and working on her remaining breast. Soon she's moaning away and the ice has almost melted against her. Now I'm twisting and turning her sensitive nipples. I'm not done with Penelope yet. I leave one nipple alone and hike up her dress until I can see her panties. I then take a piece of the melting ice and put it in my lips. I put my head between her thighs and start drawing a line from mid-thigh down to her pubic mound. When I get there I start on the other side. This time I press the ice into her crotch. Penelope instinctively tilts her hips to give me better access to her most sensitive areas. She's already wet I discover and and am pleased to see she's soaked. Penelope's hand pushes my hand off of her breast and now she's working her own nipples with each hand. I reach down and cup her ass, pulling her to the edge of the seat. I take another piece of ice and repeat the process on her snatch. Penelope is thrashing her head back and forth and moaning non-stop. I get up and go back to the woodpile. Penelope and Phoebe are staring in shocked amazement at me. "Phoebe, I have to go to the house," Penelope hurriedly announces and races back home. Phoebe stares at her retreating sister then back to me. "You really want to stay alive, don't you?" she wonders. "That was the plan," I grin. Penelope goes to town and gets some things, including a chain, collar and lock. The collar is leather and made for a big dog which means it nearly chokes the life out of me. I can't figure why normal people put a lock on it. Do the dogs in these parts have thumbs? Our night is surreal. We start by sitting around the table having a light dinner. We all talk about our day. I talk about how to very hot, but very psycho bitches had me working like a slave all day wondering when I would get shot. Penelope and Phoebe are duly sympathetic to my plight. They talk about how they've had bragged to their online friends about thwarting a home invader. Apparently the girls they talk to have widely divergent ideas on what should happen next. In general, the idea of having the bastard dig his own grave was applauded. Someone else told them what kind of collar and chain to get. A cage was suggested but there seemed to be some unpleasant hygiene issues Thing 1 and Thing 2 were unwilling to overlook. After some heated debate and discussion Penelope and Phoebe were informed that I was safe to have in bed as long as I couldn't reach my key. No one thought I was homicidal enough kill them and then starve to death on the bed if I did. Sadly I had to agree with that assessment. Sexual tips were also forthcoming. Phoebe thought a mail order strap on would be nice. I informed her that she had better blow my brains out with her .44 first because I hadn't fought off a dozen guys in juvie to go out that way now. Phoebe wasn't amused, or more likely, she was erotically amused, so she made me swallow her gun barrel. I mumbled something so she took the gun out. "Can I at least taste you first?" I repeat now that she can hear me. She suddenly looks all big-eyed and coy. "Do you really want to do that to me?" "Yes, very much so," I sort of tell the truth. "Okay," she smiles. I take her by her (non-gun) hand and lead her into the huge living room space. I sit her down in a large leather chair and kneel before her. I reverently take off one boot then the other. Penelope sits a few feet away watching intently. I massage Phoebe's feet and working up her calves. By the look of her passionate features I'm doing something right. I undo the bottom on her tight little jeans. I flip the zipper up and lean in, taking the zipper in my teeth. I'm only able to work it down a few inches, maybe half way, but she likes the effect and pats me on the head affectionately. I finish pulling his zipper down and then run my hands around the top of her jeans. I tug down for a few inches before Phoebe raises her hips up to help me pull the jeans and panties down. Somehow she's found the time to shave today. It looks a little raw and sensitive. I make lapping gestures against her flesh hoping for a positive effect. "Oh ..." she said in a very contented voice. By the accident of angels my rough unshaven chin drags across the top of her cunt and she can't help buy grab my head and hold it still where it is. "Again," she gasps. I respond by moving my chin around and she makes this pitiful little panting noise. After a minute of this I carefully move down to see what it is that I've excited. It is her clit and she likes the prickliness of my beard against it. I file that away for future reference, in case I have a future. I introduce my lips to her clit. Kissing appears to be nice, but sucking it appears to be better, and teeth seem to be best of all. Catching it between my teeth and pulling it is what she loves the most. In my explorations I've missed how distressed Phoebe's gotten and I'm rewarded by a surprise flash of juice along with a shrill scream. Phoebe has collapsed in an exhausted state in the chair. I sit back and examine my work. I catch Penelope looking at me with this rapt fascination. "How about some dessert?" I suggest. Penelope gasps then snickers. Yes, I really wanted to live. (Evening) I roll over to Penelope's side, waking her. She has this curious expression on her face, but it is also inviting. I push myself over on top of her and push her legs apart before settling in. She still has this odd expression about her which looks like she can't decide whether to kick me or welcome me. "What are you doing?" she whispers. I know Phoebe is awake watching the show, but I play along that she's still asleep. I take up her teddy by the hem and hike it high and higher past her breasts and then over her head. Before she can pull her hands free I bundle and twist the garment so that her hands are semi-contained. She can get out if she really tries, but that's not the point. I tie the teddy to one of the top rails of the bed. Again, it is hardly a masterful job. "Stop this at once," Penelope squirms. "I'm warning you," she hisses. "No," I whisper with a careful look to the sleeping (?) Phoebe, then back to her. "I'm going to make love to you and you can't stop me." Penelope lashes against her restraints but gets nowhere. "Stop that or I'll hurt you," I growls. Penelope looks fearful and slowly nods. "I'll be good," she breathes. I close in for the kiss. She resists by turning her head aside. I grab her jaw in one hand and pull it back so I can kiss it. Penelope mumbles a protestation. I don't relent until my tongue enters her mouth and makes her tongue submit. Penelope moans. I wiggle down, pushing her head back and forth so I can lick and bite her neck wherever I wish. Penelope's resistance is feeble. In yet another fit of inspiration I put one hand on her throat and squeeze softly. I feel Phoebe stir slightly to my side. She's uncomfortable with what I'm doing but is being held back by her sister's actions. Penelope trashes beneath me as she tries to expel me from between her legs. If I was an actual rapist her lack of the silken bottoms to the lingerie sleepwear would be amusing. As it is, things are working out well for our little game. I squeeze Penelope's throat tighter but quickly figure out I need to alternate my hold before I actually choke her. When I let up she does thrash out again. In the meantime, I can lower myself to her breast. In contrast my attentions to her neck, I am gentle and loving to her nipples. After some writhing struggle with her legs, my licks and kisses begin to wear her down. I pull myself up on one arm. I gently coax her leg on the opposite side up until one of her knees is above my hip. "Are you going to behave, or do I have to hurt you?" I threaten. Her eyes get very wide. "Nod if you are going to be a good girl." Penelope nods. "Kiss me." She hesitates. "Kiss me or I'll hurt you some more." Penelope propels herself up and kisses me. I kiss her deeply and finish off by biting her lip which brings forth a tiny whimper. "Tell me you want me to fuck you," I command softly. "No, please," Penelope begs. I snarl and get into her face. "Do it or I'll kill you," I threaten. When she continues to resist I put my hands round her throat and slowly squeeze. I'm starting to think she's going to let me choke her out when she makes one mighty (?) pull against her restraints and starts crying. I release my hold on her. "Say it," I snarl. I can feel Phoebe's eyes boring into me. "Fuck me," Penelope rasps. I look at her with as much anger as I can manage. "Fuck me please," she adds. I respond by sharing a kiss her which is a hungry vibrant thing on her part. She is so wet when go in. Last night I rammed into her, so tonight I take it slow and easy, letting her savor each inch of penetration. I keep her gaze on me, our eyes taking in each action and reaction. When my pelvic bone touches her own she takes a sharp intake of breathe. I slowly ease out then back again in measured, loving strokes so at odds with my attempts at strangling. "Aaahhh," Penelope murmured. She began matching my strokes with tilts of the hips and pushing up to meet me with a look of real passion. I want to say something. Her liking it is crucial to my survival, but I weigh the magic of our silence to be of greater value. "Ugh, ugh, ugh," she repeats. I sense this means she is getting close so I make my thrusts more insistence and kiss her in order to steal her breath away. She has this happy look about her. I reach out and put my hand back to her throat and squeeze once more. Now she looks positively enraptured. She even gives me a tiny nod of encouragement. I'm not choking her for twenty seconds when her body spasms against mine and she gives out a strangled cry of joy. I remove my hand from around her throat and move up to free her hands. Her free hands come down and hold my head as she kisses and licks my lips. She appears overcome with the heat of her ecstasy. I twist myself so that I remove my still hard penis slips out of her. She moans once more as my wet member draws a line along her thigh. She doesn't say 'thank you' or 'I loved that'. Instead I get, "I want you to mow the front lawn tomorrow." Even with a riding mower that and a weed trimmer I should make it to lunch. With the meal I should make it another half day – another half-day of life. This is a far greater gift than any mere platitudes. I try rolling over to the far side of Penelope, but she stops me and directs me to move back to where I was, between my two psychos. I wonder if we count as boyfriend-girl-friend. All is quiet for fifteen of minutes when Phoebe nudges me. I look over and her wide innocent eyes regard me with urgent expectation. "No," I whisper. She looks confused, then sad, and finally angrily insistent. "Yes," she responds. "I'm tired," I counter. She reaches under her pillow and pulls out her hand cannon. She points it at my head and gets this desperate pleading gaze. "Yes," she insists. "I'm tired, you've worked me like a slave all day, and I need some sleep. If you are going to shoot me, shoot me. If not, I'll take care of you tomorrow night. I'll think of something different just for you. Right now, I'm going to sleep." I roll over onto my side, my back to her. Ten seconds later she presses the cold barrel against the back of my ear. I ask God to forgive me for all kinds of things I might have done. The hammer goes back with this terrifying metallic click. I find my breath coming in short gasps. The gun moves away from me and she replaces the cold of the steel with a warm kiss. "I'm looking forward to it," she purrs. "I know you won't disappoint me." I may have just made it a whole day. If I hadn't been so tired I'd have reveled in my micro-victory. Instead I was quickly slipping off to a deep slumber, worn down by labor and fear.