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Authors: Ian Woodhead

Depravity

BOOK: Depravity
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Depravity

 

 

 

 

By

Ian Woodhead

 

Also by Ian Woodhead

 

Parasite

Shades of Green

The Mirrored Blade

Spores

Third Sight

Woven in Blood

Kingdoms of the Dead

Fungal Tide

The Bone Architect

Brutality

Chemical Flowers (with Suzanne Reeves)

 

The Zombie Armageddon Series

 

The Unwashed Dead

Walking with Zombies

Infected Bodies

Dead Veil

Dead Reaping

Human Filth

Harvest of the Dead (with Christine Sutton)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Depravity

By Ian Woodhead

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Copyright revised edition,

September 2015 by Ian Woodhead

 

 

WARNING – This is an extreme horror story, intended for mature audiences only. Do not read if you are easily shocked or if you have a nervous disposition.

 

 

Please visit me here:

https://www.facebook.com/Ian.Woodhead.Author

 

 

 

Chapter one

A momentous mistake

1

Jeremy Dale so loved to talk. In fact, ever since he had checked in, the teen hadn't shut up. Young Jeremy had explained at full length exactly why he had left his parents house, even slamming the outside door just to prove his serious intent. Oh yeah, they'd be sorry, the pair of them were bound to worry themselves sick. What else could he do though? How else did they expect him to react when they treated him like a child all the time. He would be seventeen next, for crying out loud. He was already old enough to have sex.

It so amused the man known to the boy as Kevin Morris to listen as this rather pretty, blonde  blame his parents for every misfortune to happen to him in his short life. Jeremy must have been bottling up all of this shallow vitriol for months. It only took a few carefully placed trigger words for the boy to open up. He hadn't even needed the wine. From what information so far delivered, nobody knew the whereabouts of this well fed boy.

Mr Morris glided his fat tongue across his lips. He suppressed his usual shakes and took a deep breath. He so looked forward to the moment of understanding before he applied the fatal cut. Kevin walked his fingers over his collection of silver instruments, taking in the combined smell of old leather coming from the roll-sack as well a tint of the alcohol that he used to clean the blades. The tip of his forefinger stopped on the handle of his newest acquisition, a
seven-inch bone-saw. The piece was over a hundred years old and in immaculate condition. Kevin wasn't too sure what use it would be but he just couldn't resist it, not at that price.

 

The torrent of verbal rubbish vomiting from the boy's mouth, abruptly stopped ten minutes ago. That was the stage when Kevin decided that enough was enough. He already surmised that there would be nobody coming to his hotel looking for this runaway. To be frank, he started to pity the boy's parents. They were probably glad to get rid of the annoying brat. His grating voice was now beginning to grind. He had pulled his body out of his favourite armchair, picked up the stubby wooden bat, wrapped in sackcloth and struck the babbling boy just below his left ear.

“Come on, Starshine,” he said, smiling, as the boy's eyelids flickered, as out of focus eyes rolled in their socket before stabilising. “There we are, welcome back to planet Earth.”

Kevin sat back down in his armchair and picked up his wineglass. The bat was back where he'd left it, right there, in the middle of the table. Jeremy hadn't even asked him about it, not that he had expected him to. Jeremy had an audience and a story to tell, everything else was irrelevant.

He'd seen the unrolled black leather bag, next to Jeremy's own wine glass. Judging from his startled deer expression, Kevin guessed that the boy had now began to realise that not everything was irrelevant, that perhaps this middle-aged man, with the easy smile, long brown hair, and maroon jacket wasn't such a funny looking person after all.

 

Mr Morris took a small sip of wine, enjoying the subtle taste, a good vintage complimented the view of his latest find, struggling with his bonds whilst trying to scream through the ball gag. His efforts were, of course, wasted. He had been doing this for years and perfected the art a long time ago. Still, it always amused Kevin to watch them expend all that energy. The ball gag was new though, until the last two finds, Kevin used a good quality gaffa tape. That stopped when a girl, almost ten years older than Jeremy, somehow managed to bite a hole through the material.

“You're not going to piss yourself, I hope?” He gazed into the boy's eyes. This was another exciting moment. His find had now realised that he was in a lot of trouble. “You see, I need to ask because I'd rather you do it now, rather than when I'm in the middle of my work.” Kevin leaned forward, and placed the now empty glass back on the table. He kept his hand on the surface, watching the boy's eyes as Jeremy reached for the first instrument in the roll-sack, a surgeon's scalpel.

Kevin got to his feet, he crossed the distance between them, watching the flames of his fire, flicker over the blade. He dropped to his knees and placed the scalpel next to his thigh. Thick tears rolled down the boy's cheeks. “I suppose that it's too late to say that your parents weren't to blame for all of your little mishaps, Jeremy? It isn't the end of the world when your mum asks you to wash up after dinner, nor are they beyond evil to ask for board money.”

He carefully undid the buttons on the boy’s trousers. “I can't promise no pain, young man. Sorry about that. Although, it might bring some comfort to hear that your death will not be wasted.” He grabbed the boy's trousers and jerked them forward.

His struggles grew more frantic, not that they did him any good. Still, Kevin did give him kudos for trying. Pampered teen he might be, but even soft little boys like this one still had an acute sense of self-preservation locked inside his body. It's just a shame that it took such a long time to make an entrance. Kevin tugged Jeremy's trousers down to his ankles and carefully cut away his boxer shorts, noting that the boy had frozen for this procedure, even so, Kevin still managed to nick him a couple of times.

The material fell away, exposing the boy's large penis. “Oh my, that has to be the largest one that I've ever seen! You know, this makes me so annoyed with you, Jeremy. With equipment like that, young man, you could have ruled whatever social circle you decided to join. There are girls and boys out there who would have been able to take you up to pleasure heaven if they ever saw this.”

Kevin wrapped his hands around the shaft, and for the first time in over ten years, he hesitated on the first cut. Dare he let this one live? Angela would be ecstatic if he delivered a live one, especially when she saw this beast. He looked at the blade, unsure of what to do. Once exposed, the blade needed to bite into meat, it was the rule. Yet, if he did hand him over, without bleeding and jointing him first, Angela might start behaving, she might even stay quiet during the night.

Her wailing hadn't yet disturbed the guests, but the forces of chaos would conspire against him, they always did.

He absently massaged the flaccid meat, listening to the boy's harsh breathing as his penis swelled. The forces of chaos could turn this event into a disaster, even if he did give him to Angela still breathing. He didn't have another chain for him, so he'd have to make sure that he couldn't escape. Then there was the small problem of sex. His sister had never experienced another male besides him.

“There are way too many variables, Jeremy.”

Variables or not, although he so used to enjoy having sex with Angela, her actions had recently become too unpredictable, too violent, she had begun to scare even him. Kevin had been looking for some way of calming her down for weeks.

He released the boy's now rigid shaft and stood up. “You know something, perhaps this really is your lucky moment. The penis is where I always started, well, for boys anyway. Usually they died either from shock or from bleeding out. It only took a minute or two. Look, I know what you must be thinking, that I'm some kind of pervert? Believe me, that is so far from the truth, it's comical.”  He smiled. “I bet you must have thought that having your cock cut off would be the worst way possible to die?”

His penis had already returned to its sleeping state. Not that it mattered. He'd already proven to himself that this boy had the tool to calm down his sister, and even under threat of death, the monster would perform.

“Jeremy, there are so many more unpleasant ways to die. Whether or not you'll find out is now in the hands, and perhaps teeth, of my sister. Could you be lucky a second time?”

Kevin left the scalpel on the table and rolled up his other instruments, it looked like his new purchase would have to wait until the next time. He picked up the boy's wineglass and drained the contents, it wasn't right that a good wine should go to waste, and it's not like Kevin would be drinking it. All that remained now was to ensure that Angela's new play-toy wouldn't go wandering, also, his scalpel still needed satisfying.

He returned to the kneeling position between the boy’s legs, grabbing the blade on the way down. Kevin removed the boy's trainers and pulled down his socks. “You're not even going to feel this, my friend, well, not until later.” He sliced the blade across both the boy's Achilles tendons and pressed the socks tight against the cuts.

Could he make her pregnant? It seemed unlikely. Kevin had been fucking her ever since she'd started bleeding and he had never managed to give her any babies. Even if her new play-toy did impregnate her, it wasn't a difficult task to make sure that she didn't give birth. His skilled fingers and instruments were more than up to the task of performing a simple abortion.

“The blood's clotting already, Jeremy.” He examined the boy's leg muscles, and wondered if Kevin hadn't told him a few little white lies. These pins belonged to an athlete, not a teenager who spent most of his life in front of a computer screen. Not that it mattered now. This one wasn't going to be able to stand unaided, let alone run. “You're a strong boy. I'll give it another minute or so then I'll wrap them up.”

Having taken this momentous decision, Kevin now had to deal with the pressing problem of feeding Angela. The frozen meat, left from his last kill was almost gone, and he'd already promised her a fresh slab. He looked in sadness at Jeremy's penis. She was so looking forward to munching on her little treat as well.

None of the other guests were suitable. Too many questions would arise if any of the others vanished. “The girl will just have to make do with what's left in the freezer.” He shook his head sadly. “You see, my new captive, it isn't only you who has family problems. Unlike you though, I don't complain to strangers. I deal with whatever comes up.”

Kevin crossed the living room, and opened the first aid box, situated close to the door that lead out to the reception. He removed two rolls of gauze and made his way back to Jeremy. “You'll be okay, as long as you don't move too much. If you struggle
,
you'll only open the wounds.” Thanks to his change of mind, Kevin still had a good hour to kill before he started on the evening dinners for the remaining guests. “Do you know what I'm going to do, my friend? I think I'll enjoy the pleasure of my sister's body for the last time before I give you to her. It seems like the logical course of action. After all, once she sees your equipment, it's unlikely that Angela is going to want anyone else.” He checked the bandages, replaced the scalpel and hurried over to the door. “This is what you can call a major turning point in your life, young man. It is, providing she doesn't kill you and consume your flesh. Still, like I said, you might be lucky a second time.”

2

His rise to sole owner of Richmond Point, a prestigious hotel, commanding a spectacular view of the east coast, hadn't exactly been a fairy tale journey for the man named Kevin Morris. After helping his dad to remove the vile woman, known as Mrs Morris, and ensuring nobody would ever discover her gnawed bones, Kevin Morris lived for a total for eight years with the realisation that he'd helped to murder the wrong parent.

Daddy Morris, also known as Fuckbastard, turned him into his unwilling slave, threatening to deny him access to Angela forever if he showed the slightest amount of resistance. Not that Kevin ever did give the huge man an excuse. Kevin had learned long ago to mask his true feelings. In fact, as he approached eighteenth birthday, not so young Morris, began to wonder if he even possessed any genuine emotion for anyone, apart from Angela.

The siblings shared out their father on the eve of his party. Staring down at the dead man, whilst standing in the cellar, watching Angela bite through Fuckbastard's scrotum, Kevin seriously couldn't believe how easy it had been to stop the man from breathing. All it took was for his darling sister to scream out in pretend pain just as the pair of them were ready to partake in Kevin's birthday gift. Daddy Morris had promised to allow his son to fuck the girl, the first time in over three months. Watching dad's face drop when his sister bellowed out had been the second greatest point of the evening. The first greatest had occurred just three seconds later when Kevin had drove his secreted broken pair of scissors deep into the man's eye socket.

Looking back to that event, Kevin now knew that he should have let the man live. Until he'd been truly alone, he had no idea that running a hotel could be so draining. There had been so many new skills to learn, everything from getting to grips with the paperwork to hiring staff to replace him. As the new owner, it didn't seem right that he should be the one to clean up all the time.

In five years, the man now known as the only Mr Morris, still found it highly irritating that not one of the men and women he had employed had been able to match his own work ethic. The staff never lasted long at Richmond Point. Still, at least they had all been able to leave the hotel in one piece. None of them had ever found their way into his sister's stomach. His parents may have raised him to be a psychopath, with an unhealthy dose of inter-sibling fornication thrown in for good measure, but he certainly wasn't stupid.

3

Keeping a respectful distance from the pair of them, Kevin Morris watched his sister walk the perimeter of her latest gift. To decrease the risk of Angela falling into one of her unstable moods, he had dosed the boy with enough animal tranquilliser to keep him under for a couple of hours. Thankfully, the occasional moan and a muscle twitch every so often, showed her that he had brought her a live specimen.

What happened next would be entirely up to her. Could the boy's incredible luck really help him overcome the imminent prospect of death? After all, her last fresh meal had been well over three months ago now. The bad winter as well as the economic recession had all but dried up his revenue from hotel guests. None of the few stragglers who had stayed over the winter had been suitable for her. It had been times like this when he had cursed his rare impulse to kill dad straight away, instead of feeding him piece by piece to Angela. The only Morris remaining could have easily made Fuckbastard last at least a year. Certainly not five years but by the time only the head and torso was left, Kevin would have managed to extract every scrap of information required to successfully run this hotel.

Still, there's always a silver lining, having let the last of his staff go two months ago, meant the wheelbarrow journey from his living room, through the communal dining room and into the back of the kitchen was uneventful. It also meant that for the first time since his father's death, the hotel, his hotel gleamed and smelled lemon fresh everywhere, apart from down here, of course.

“Oh my word, will you look at that! Your good luck really does have no bounds.”  After a bit of struggling, his sister had managed to undress the boy. Her eyes almost glowed in the dull light when she discovered what he had been gifted with. “I want you to see this as the best birthday present anyone could give you, Angela. This means, no more wailing in the middle of the night, no more temper tantrums just because I don't bring you exactly the cut of meat you desire. Even if you do get bored of him, at least his meat will last you a good few weeks.”

Judging from her frantic panting and bubbled incoherent speech, Kevin didn't think she heard him. He backed away, only stopping when his heels smacked against the bottom step. A slight smile creased his face, as he watched her straddle the boy's hips and attempt the push that enormous snake inside her with little success. She turned to face him.

“He's out for the count, honey. Please try to be patient, I'm sure that as soon as the drugs have worn off, I'm sure that monster will be all yours. You'll be able to ride him from now until doomsday.”

The girl responded with the closest thing he'd seen to a smile. He paused and attempted not to allow that tiny bubble of fear, deep in the pit of his stomach to expand. Even after every deed he'd seen and done, that look still chilled him to the bone. It was a hard thing to admit, but his sister scared the life out of him.

That look took him all the way back to their childhood. He remembered his mother giving them the same look. This was when they both used to live down here, before the First Change. His mother used to say to the pair of them, that the females of their lines were always the dominant gender. He also remembered how his father had repeated that phrase right before he sliced off the top of her head with a garden spade.

Watching his sister idly stroke the boy's cock whilst pointing to her mouth made him mentally repeat mother's phrase himself. He may very well hold the cellar door key, but it was him who still did all the fetching and carrying. Father might well still be alive for all the good it did him. He might not be his father's personal slave but it didn't stop another member of his family jerking on that invisible chain. He sighed and turned around, and made his way up the steps, wondering how on earth he was going to find enough food to feed his sister and her new play-toy. As he shut and locked the cellar door, a large part of him hoped Angela would be too hungry to care about sex, and butcher and eat the boy. He gazed down at his own crotch, seriously wondering why he'd just done that. Never mind about the extra labour, what was he going to do about getting sex now? There wasn't a chance that he'd be able to satisfy the girl now. Kevin wanted to weep.

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