Succubi Part 23

Grandma, Ann thought sourly. It was one obstruction after the next. Ann's mother was regarded as the town's matriarch, loved by all. Melanie was making friends here. Martin wrote better here. Where did all this leave Ann? Ann thought sourly. It was one obstruction after the next. Ann's mother was regarded as the town's matriarch, loved by all. Melanie was making friends here. Martin wrote better here. Where did all this leave Ann?

On the outside, she answered herself. "I just don't think I approve of your hanging around with some boy you just met." she answered herself. "I just don't think I approve of your hanging around with some boy you just met."

"I'm not a little kid anymore, Mom. I'm an adult."

"Is that so?"

"Let's not argue." Very abruptly, Melanie took off her robe. She sat down naked at the antique vanity to comb her hair.

Ann swallowed her shock. Melanie had never disrobed in front of her, at least not down to the skin. But she did so now as if it were natural. Ann felt she should comment on this immodesty, but what could she say? Certainly, there was nothing unnatural about a mother seeing her daughter unclothed.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Melanie could see Ann's face in the vanity's big framed mirror. "You act like you've never seen me naked."

"Well, I haven't really. Not in years." But she thought: She is an adult. She is an adult. Melanie's body had indeed blossomed. She'd been skinny as an adolescent, boyish. Now her b.r.e.a.s.t.s had filled out, and the straight lines of her early teens had given over to a nice feminine shapeliness. The firm orbs of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s jogged slightly as she combed her hair out in the mirror. Then she stood up, just as abruptly, and turned. Ann couldn't help but glimpse the fresh young body from head to toe. Melanie's body had indeed blossomed. She'd been skinny as an adolescent, boyish. Now her b.r.e.a.s.t.s had filled out, and the straight lines of her early teens had given over to a nice feminine shapeliness. The firm orbs of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s jogged slightly as she combed her hair out in the mirror. Then she stood up, just as abruptly, and turned. Ann couldn't help but glimpse the fresh young body from head to toe.

"I'm growing up, Mom."

"I know, honey. Sometimes that's a hard thing for a mother to realize, that's all."

And it was, wasn't it? Her shock reverted to a dim despair. Melanie had bloomed into womanhood nearly without Ann's even knowing it. Too busy, Too busy, she regretted. she regretted. Too busy trying to make partner to even notice your own daughter growing up. Too busy trying to make partner to even notice your own daughter growing up.

Melanie quickly slipped into a pair of black acidwashed jeans, then pulled on a dark blue "Car Crash Symphony" Ts.h.i.+rt. Ann felt like an old curmudgeon sitting on the bed.

Melanie kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be home early."

"Bye."

But Ann had wanted to stop her, to ask her something that had been bothering her of late. Are you a virgin? Are you a virgin? she'd wanted to ask. But how could she ask something like that without sounding even more curmudgeonish? she'd wanted to ask. But how could she ask something like that without sounding even more curmudgeonish?

Melanie left.

Ann felt old, depressed, naive-all at once. A glance out the window showed Martin wandering off into the looming woods, seeking his muse. How much more distanced could Ann feel from the people in her life? She and her mother were constantly at odds. She didn't understand Martin's creative joys at all. And her daughter had grown up right under her nose.

She sat back down on the bed. And my father's dying, and I hardly ever even knew him. And my father's dying, and I hardly ever even knew him.

A tear threatened to form in her eye.

Then she s.h.i.+vered...

Slupslupslup, she heard she heard ...slupslupslup... ...slupslupslup...

The vertigo returned. The glaring red vision streamed again through her mind: a fisted hand plunging the knife down. Blood spewing. Naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s and belly quivering each time the blade buried itself to the hilt...

Chapter 19.

"Oh, h.e.l.lo, Ann."

Ann gave a start. The double doors to the den abruptly slid open, and standing there was Mrs. Gargan, redolent with cologne.

"How are you today, Mrs. Gargan?"

"Oh, I'm fine. What are you up to?"

But Mrs. Gargan's stiff posture and stiff, make-upped face made Ann feel sidetracked. Past her shoulder, Ann could see her mother and several friends looking through a photo alb.u.m at the table. Mrs. Gargan's rigid smile and dark eyes seemed fixed on her.

"I've just been puttering around," she said after a pause. "I thought I'd go upstairs and look in on my father."

"Yes, of course. Feel free to join us later for tea."

Yeah, right. Ann's mother and friends flipped through the photo alb.u.m as if in deep concentration. They commented quietly at each turn of a page. Ann couldn't hear them. Ann's mother and friends flipped through the photo alb.u.m as if in deep concentration. They commented quietly at each turn of a page. Ann couldn't hear them.

"I will," Ann balked. "See you later."

She went upstairs as Mrs. Gargan headed for the kitchen. Ann could imagine the ba.n.a.lity of joining her mother and friends for tea, poohpoohing over the alb.u.m. Mrs. Gargan, of course, was just being polite. The stiff cordiality told Ann what she already knew: Ann was Lockwood's prodigal daughter; she would never be fully welcome here.

Upstairs, the grimly familiar beep led her to the room. Her father's cardiac monitor. Ann hated that sound. Milly was sponging off her father's chest. The chest looked waxen, pale.

"Hi, Milly."

The nurse turned, smiled. "Have you seen Dr. Heyd around?"

"No, not in a while. Is anything wrong?"

"Oh, no, no." Milly fidgeted in a medical bag, hooked up a new IV. "Everything's fine." Her smile turned coy. "I've heard Melanie has taken a liking to someone."

"Oh, yeah. Zack. Do you know him?"

Milly laughed, a strange reaction. "You don't have to worry about him. Actually, he's a very nice boy, very helpful. You might be put off a little by the way he dresses, but that's kind of silly nowadays, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess it is," Ann said, though reluctantly.

"But you seem bothered by it, or something."

Did she? I'm bothered by a lot of things. I'm bothered by a lot of things. "Motherly concern, I suppose. Do things like that ever bother you?" "Motherly concern, I suppose. Do things like that ever bother you?"

Milly laughed again. "My daughter's a bit too young for Zack; she's only fifteen. But as mothers we have to realize that eventually our daughters grow up. Didn't you have a crush on boys when you were a teenager?"

Ann sat down, thinking. It was a revelatory question. "I guess I did," she said. "But there never seemed to be many boys my age in Lockwood."

"Well, that's still pretty much the case, not many children at all, especially Melanie and Rena's age group. Lockwood's pretty remote, but I like it better that way. It's safer. It's more real, don't you think?"

Ann shrugged. She remembered how bored she'd been in Lockwood as a child. It must be even worse for an adult. Now that she thought of it, she didn't remember seeing many kids of any age around town, and not many established men. "What do you do for fun around here?"

"Lockwood may seem like the sticks to you, but actually, there's a lot for a single woman to do."

Ann recalled Milly's rather militant statements about her social life, about men.

"It's just that Lockwood is so different for you," Milly went on. "If you'd lived here your whole life, you'd feel different. You're talking about s.e.x, right?"

The spontaneity of the question surprised her. But she supposed that's what she meant all along. "I was just curious, that's all. Your romantic life is none of my business."

"You can say it," Milly offered. "I'm no prude. You want to know how a woman in a town like Lockwood finds s.e.xual satisfaction."

"Really, Milly, I didn't mean-"

"We're not that that remote, you know. There are men in town, mostly transients, come here to work. It's out there, it's easy enough to find if you look." remote, you know. There are men in town, mostly transients, come here to work. It's out there, it's easy enough to find if you look."

This was getting embarra.s.sing. Then Milly added, "But you don't have to worry about that yourself. You have a man"

Jesus, did everyone around here regard men as property, as prizes? Was that what love was when you got right down to it? Territorial? Nevertheless, now that they'd broken the ice, Ann couldn't resist asking: "Tell me about Maedeen."

Milly offered a huge grin. "Let me guess. You and Martin met Maedeen recently, and now you're jealous."

"I wouldn't go so far as to say jealous. She just seems-"

"A little forward? Well, don't worry. That's just the way she is. She's outgoing, friendly. She likes everybody and everybody likes her. Your mother gave her the store when the old man died. She's done a wonderful job."

Is that how I seem? Ann wondered. Ann wondered. A jealous city priss? A jealous city priss?

"She and I go out sometimes. We have a wild time."

But what could Milly mean? There were no dance clubs or night spots in Lockwood. Where did they have a wild wild time around here? time around here?

"A woman's gotta do what she's gotta do." Milly pushed her hair back and laughed. But, "Oh, d.a.m.n," she said next. She rummaged through the medical bag. "It's time for your father's B-12 shot. I don't have any left. Would you mind running to my house and getting me some? It's just a short walk. I don't want to leave your father alone between IVs."

"Sure," Ann said. Actually, it would be a relief. She liked Milly, but her straightforwardness sometimes got too nettling. Milly gave her instructions for what to get and where. When Ann went back downstairs, she noticed her mother and friends still chatting over the photo alb.u.ms. Her mother looked up suddenly, frowned, then looked back down. She scarcely even spoke to Ann anymore. I'm the prodigal daughter all right, I'm the prodigal daughter all right, she thought again. Ann wondered if there was anything she could ever do to win her mother's approval. she thought again. Ann wondered if there was anything she could ever do to win her mother's approval.

Forget it, she dismissed. Ann cut through the town square to Milly's house. The town looked idle as usual. Several old men sat on the porch of Maedeen's general store, bantering and chewing tobacco. A dog lazed in the sun. Not a single car could be seen. Ann felt obstinate; she was always too quick to criticize. Lockwood, however idle, had something the city never had. Peace. But suddenly the thought waned. At the end of the square, she saw the church, its great front door and stained-gla.s.s windows staring at her like a looming face. she dismissed. Ann cut through the town square to Milly's house. The town looked idle as usual. Several old men sat on the porch of Maedeen's general store, bantering and chewing tobacco. A dog lazed in the sun. Not a single car could be seen. Ann felt obstinate; she was always too quick to criticize. Lockwood, however idle, had something the city never had. Peace. But suddenly the thought waned. At the end of the square, she saw the church, its great front door and stained-gla.s.s windows staring at her like a looming face.

Milly lived in a little onefloor house on Bathory Street. Quaint little shrubs out front. A quaint little yard. It seemed honest honest somehow. No luxuries, just an honest little house. Milly hadn't given her the keys; there was no need. No one in Lockwood locked their doors. Inside was just as honest. Spa.r.s.e but clean. Old but wellkept furniture. A bowl of potpourri filled the living room with pleasant herbal scents. Milly had said the B-12 was in the kitchen, above the refrigerator. Ann went down the short hall, but stopped. She thought she heard something... somehow. No luxuries, just an honest little house. Milly hadn't given her the keys; there was no need. No one in Lockwood locked their doors. Inside was just as honest. Spa.r.s.e but clean. Old but wellkept furniture. A bowl of potpourri filled the living room with pleasant herbal scents. Milly had said the B-12 was in the kitchen, above the refrigerator. Ann went down the short hall, but stopped. She thought she heard something...

It sounded like a humming noise, ever faint. But she heard something else enlaced with it. From down the hall.

Was it Rena, Milly's daughter? The noise bothered Ann. She hesitated, then advanced. The hall was dim. The carpet left her footfalls silent. To the left, a door stood half open.

Ann peeked in.

A bedroom, spa.r.s.e but comfortable like the rest of the house. The decor, however-bright curtains, brightly painted furniture-couldn't possibly be an adult's. It must be Rena's room.

But what was that humming noise?

She looked in further. Sunlight slanted in, and movement caught her eye. White movement in the glare of sun. What the... What the... Ann blinked, staring. The soft, faint hum persisted. Ann blinked, staring. The soft, faint hum persisted.

She gulped when she realized what she was seeing.

A figure squirmed on the little, neat bed. Bright white skin in the glare. It was Rena. Naked. Her back arching. Moans and hot breath escaped her throat. At first Ann thought the girl must be convulsing from some illness. But another moment's staring showed her that it was not discomfort which sent Rena's young body into clenching spasms. It was ecstasy.

The hum persisted, wavering. Ann noted its source.

Milly's daughter manipulated a s.h.i.+ny white vibrator between her legs. The vibrator was huge. Tendons strained at the apex of the girl's legs as she wielded the device with both hands. The girl's b.r.e.a.s.t.s were tiny on her heaving chest. Her stomach sucked in and out; her toes dug in the sheets. The giant vibrator's volume rose and fell each time it was inserted and withdrawn. The size of the thing, compared to Rena's tiny s.e.x, made Ann visibly tremor.

Rena continued to writhe, drawing the device slowly in and out. The sensations contorted her face. Melding murmurs of words escaped her lips.

"Doefolmon, bludmon, all the dothers give lof..."

Each time the humming device plunged, Ann thought she could feel it herself. This disgusted her. Immediately, she felt compelled to barge into the room, to stop this.

But would that really be within her rights? This was another woman's daughter. What right did Ann have to discipline Milly's child? And what would she say anyway?

"Give lof, give lof, I give lof..."

Lof? Ann thought. What were these words she was muttering? The vibrator hummed. Rena moaned then, her eyes rolling back in her head, when she next pushed the vibrator so deeply into herself that only the end showed. Ann grew faint. Ann thought. What were these words she was muttering? The vibrator hummed. Rena moaned then, her eyes rolling back in her head, when she next pushed the vibrator so deeply into herself that only the end showed. Ann grew faint.

She retreated back down the hall, not making herself known. Quickly, quietly, she found the vial of O'Neal 50mcg B-12. As she left the house, she could still hear the vibrator's steady hum and Rena's anguished voice: "Doefolmon, doefolmon..."

Ann walked briskly away from the house. G.o.d! G.o.d! Was she being unrealistic? She didn't care that it was none of her business, nor did she care how s.e.xually liberal the times had become. Was she being unrealistic? She didn't care that it was none of her business, nor did she care how s.e.xually liberal the times had become. Fifteenyearolds are not supposed to be masturbating with vibrators, Fifteenyearolds are not supposed to be masturbating with vibrators, she felt convinced. Did Milly know what her daughter was doing when she was out? The walk back through the town square cooled her down. True, it was none of her business, yet one point wouldn't let go. This was the same girl who had become friends with Melanie. Ann didn't want to contemplate her reaction if she ever caught Melanie doing the same thing. she felt convinced. Did Milly know what her daughter was doing when she was out? The walk back through the town square cooled her down. True, it was none of her business, yet one point wouldn't let go. This was the same girl who had become friends with Melanie. Ann didn't want to contemplate her reaction if she ever caught Melanie doing the same thing.

And what were those bizarre words Rena had been muttering?

Ann decided to let it pa.s.s. Mentioning it to Milly might cause a misgiving, not to mention embarra.s.sment. What could she possibly say? Hey, Milly, I saw your kid masturbating with a vibrator the size of an ear of corn. No, she couldn't say that. Let Milly worry about her kid herself, Let Milly worry about her kid herself, she settled. she settled.

Pickman Avenue remained as idle as before. The big steepled church reflected bright white in the sun. Ann crossed at the walk, then stopped. A car was pulling away from Nale's, the general store.

Ann stood in the street, staring back.

It was a blue Mustang GT. My car, My car, she realized. she realized.

Though she couldn't be positive, there appeared to be two people riding in it. The one on the left appeared to be Martin.

The one on the right appeared to be Maedeen.

The gla.s.s tube measured eight inches in length, three eighths of an inch wide. The dother liberally lubricated it with petroleum jelly. She paused, grinning. Then she began to slide the tube into the tiny hole at the end of Zack's p.e.n.i.s.

"Do it slowly, dear," advised the wifford. "We don't want it to break...yet."

Terror gushed in Zack's mind. The two wreccans had tied him down to the table with thick hemp. One of the wreccans was new, the other was the breowor. They stood aside now, behind Maedeen and Wendlyn. Zack fought against his restraints, but only abraded himself for his efforts. They're sticking a gla.s.s tube up my c.o.c.k, They're sticking a gla.s.s tube up my c.o.c.k, came the base fact in thought. came the base fact in thought. And they're going to break it. And they're going to break it. This was his punishment. This was his punishment.

"You were going to f.u.c.k her, weren't you?" asked Maedeen, the wifford. Her voice was as stony and cold as her face.

"No," Zack groaned. "I swear. We made out a little, that's all. I wasn't gonna do anything more."