It makes no sense to say that death is the goal of life. But what else is there to say?—EM Cioran
When Anna came into the crate the next morning, I was licking Kimmie's butthole.
I spread my arms.
"Look what I found!" I say to Anna. "It makes her cry!"
Anna looks at Kimmie's face and the 17 year old is strewn with tears.
I ask Kimmie if she's ever had her asshole licked before.
Kimmie shakes her head.
Her pussy is leaking white liquid.
"What's the matter, those anti-hippie assholes you lived with afraid of licking a little b-hole?"
"I'll make bacon if anyone wants some," Anna says.
"Great!"
"So how much do you want?"
But I'm back to licking the dead girl's b-hole so I don't say anything.
"How crispy?" Anna says.
I can feel her presence. Waiting for an answer.
But I'm busy licking this dead girl's ass.
Every time I touch my tongue to her anus it makes Kimmie cry like she's at a fucking funeral and I'm loving it.
Anna finally leaves the crate.
In a few minutes she brings the greasy bacon pan back in with her and sets it on Kimmie's stomach.
It sizzles.
Kimmie screams and writhes, almost knocking the pan off her body.
"Anna!" I say. "Does that seem safe to you?"
She picks the pan up and there's a red circle on Kimmie's stomach, already pussing up.
Anna sets the pan down on each of Kimmie's breasts and the dead girl screams.
"You people are fucking crazy!!"
I say to Anna: "Can you please go out, put that on some styrofoam plates, and come back in here with safety in mind?"
Anna storms out, smoking a cigarette with no hands, showing off her ass in those crazy purple panties. She wasn't wearing anything else.
I hear her slam the pan down on the stove.
I say to Kimmie, "Can you excuse me a moment?"
I go into the kitchen.
Anna is ashing her cigarette directly on the stove top instead of using the Greenpeace mug as usual.
"If I was guessing, I would guess that you are mad that I am licking that little girl's butthole and you feel somehow jilted by this?"
Anna says, "Why are you licking her butthole? You never licked mine. Is hers cleaner or cuter or something?"
"No, it's not cleaner. It's definitely not any cuter. You were asleep. I was bored. I decided to play with my toy."
"She's our toy."
"I'm sorry. Our toy."
"Well just FYI, you can wake me up to lick my b-hole any time you want."
Anna puts her cigarette out on my stove top.
"I feel like I've become the sex slave around here!" I shout.
Anna says, "Maybe you always were."
I grab her wrist. I turn her so she's facing me.
"Hey! Smart ass! Make us some sausages and do it right this time!"
"What are you gonna do, stick it up her vag?"
"I'LL STICK IT WHEREVER I WANT!!"
Anna rips her hand from my grip. She hits the stove so hard the burner covers come out of their sockets.
"Listen to me! Mr. Whatever Your Name Is. You don't get to yell at me. I'm a free woman, remember?"
"Oh yeah, you're a free woman. Go ahead, leave. That's why you're sucking my dick every night like a lover! I see you leaving right now..you're running away..calling the police..right?..that's what you're jumping to do at every opportunity you get! This is your escape from home—I believe those were the words you used. So go back home..to Lehighton, PA..and work in a sub shop. Delivering fucking cheesesteaks. See how satisfying that is after what you've known and experienced here. And bring me some fucking sausage!!"
I left her right there and she must have smoked 11 cigarettes before she came in with a styrofoam plate of Italian sausages, cut down the middle and in semicircular segments—the way it was easy for Kimmie to eat them.
She set the plate on Kimmie's burns and fed the little girl with a plastic spoon. Every once in a while, Anna would place a bite of sausage on Kimmie's pelvis, right above her pubic hair, for me to eat. She kept her back to me.
I sat with my arms crossed thinking how out of control this situation had become.
My fantasies ran along the lines of taking them both to the rock field, shooting them both in the head, and playing Pokémon Go for the rest of my life.
When Anna finished feeding us, I got out a comfort device. It's a box—a bit smaller than a lunchbox—containing a few simple circuits needed to torture someone with electricity. Standard item, but this one was my favorite. I liked the way it looked—the color, the writing on the outside. This type of circuitry had been used on me many times, and I knew very intimately what it felt like, what effects it had on the mind of someone connected to its clamps and probes. In the evolution of human torture, this was one of the basics: water, fire, a whole bunch of other things, and then..electricity.
I heard Anna resetting the burner covers and then other little sounds that indicated she was wiping down the surface of the stove.
"How're your burns doing?" I asked Kimmie.
"They hurt," she told me.
"I'll take care of 'em in a minute, ok? I want to play with your pussy first. Plus I don't want to undo what Anna did to you so quickly—out of respect, you know?"
Kimmie closed her eyes and cocked her head back, knowing something horrible was coming.
She was right.
I opened my kit and clipped a couple of miniature alligator clamps to her inner labia.
She kept quiet.
Then I turned on the kit.
Her hands immediately turn to fists.
I see her jaw clench.
For the next half an hour or so I play with my sweet little anti-hippie, adjusting the electricity to move her from pleasure to that extreme weirdness you feel when someone's torturing you sexually with electrical devices.
I clamped her clitoris and made her endure a full five minutes of over-voltage on that most sensitive spot.
I inserted a small probe into her vagina and shocked her from within. I admit I have never felt this particular sensation but I have endured similar electrifications of my rectum.
At the beginning of this session, Kimmie was saying things like, "Is that supposed to get me off?"
Then she was saying things like: "Please. I'm begging you please. Please stop."
Then she was straight out screaming. One scream, as loud as she could—then a breath—then another scream.
At this, Anna came in from the kitchen with one eyebrow raised. She comes around to my side of the table and looks at the kit, the wires, all its little innards.
"Where did you get that?" Anna says.
I look at the kit and think of its history with me. This particular kit I had always held onto because it was small and had a rounded, sort of black/green case with Korean writing.
"Uh," I say, "I got it off this guy I was with."
"Were you stationed together?"
"No..he was torturing me."
"How did you get it off him then?"
"I strangled him with my shoelace. Then I took his kit. It's really cool. See this?"
I turn up a knob and Kimmie's teeth chatter together.
"Was he North Korea or South Korea?"
"You know, Anna, politics is a lot more complicated than it seems based on the nightly news."
"So he was South Korean and somehow you were set up as his adversary."
"Maybe he wasn't Korean at all. Maybe he stole the kit off someone who was."
"Save it. I'm sick of your cloak and dagger bullshit."
"Funny. I got sick of it too."
"So you found your true passion."
I press a tiny red button on the kit. This switches from DC to AC power.
Kimmie looks like her brain is pasta.
"That's right, I found my true passion. Please don't make fun of me—I wouldn't make fun of you."
"I'm not," Anna said—and her sincerity was clear.
"How you doing, Kimmie?"
She shakes her head.
"Do you find it funny that you're up there and I'm down here?"
"No," she says tearfully.
"Doesn't the arbitrariness of it strike you, right here?"
I turn up a knob.
She closes her eyes.
"Say, 'I control your clit.' "
Kimmie's head is shaking.
"Say it or I won't turn it off—ever. Say 'I control your clit.' "
"You control my clit."
"Who controls your clit, Kimmie?"
"You do."
"Am I in control of your clit, Kimmie?"
"Yes!"
She's sobbing uncontrollably now.
"Can I do whatever I want with it?"
"Yes!"
"Say it in a full sentence!"
"You can do whatever you want with it," she whimpers.
"Now who controls your vag?"
"You do!!"
"Ok," Anna says, and she presses the little red button in the kit.
Kimmie relaxes.
I realize I'm sweating, standing up, yelling at this little girl.
Anna turns down the knobs on the torture kit and closes the lid. She hands it to me.
I put it back under the workbench in the proper spot.
I look up at Anna, standing next to me, and before I ever get to her eyes I know what it'll be like—it's like looking in a mirror.
I bring over some sprigs of aloe and a cool stream of water from the overhead spray nozzle to treat Kimmie's burns.
"I thought it was butter or margarine to treat burns," Anna says.
"No. Margarine traps the heat in. It's cool water and aloe for almost any problem of the skin."
"Don't tell me you were an EMT, too."
"No, but..I've had to deal with lots of burns."
"Like in the jungles..in South America and shit?"
"No..like here..when I go crazy like you just did."
Over lunch, I ask Anna:
"Why did you do that to her?"
"What? The second-degree-burn-skillet thing?"
I look at her skeptically.
"Yes, that."
Anna says, "I thought she was our toy."
"She is—you can do anything you want to her. I'm asking what is going on with you that you felt the need to do that."
"You're in there electrocuting her pussy with your Korean war box! Don't give me a hard time over some second-degree burns!"
"Ok. I won't. I just wanted to check in with you."
"I don't need to be checked on!"
"I'm not checking on you—I'm checking in with you."
"What's the difference."
"Respect."
I leave the kitchen.
When I come back, Anna is stabbing the second half of what used to be a perfectly formed Reuben sandwich.
She looks up at me and there's something a bit vacant in my buddy's eyes.
"I'm not worried about Kimmie," I say. "You can cut that bitch up and cook her on the grill as far as I'm concerned. I'm asking about you. 'Cause that was a little out of character for you. Unfortunately we gotta be each other's therapist and pharmacist and every other goddamn thing in this little house. I know it gets claustrophobic," I say on my way out of the kitchen.
But I turn and stop.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean to get in your business."
I stand in the doorway with my back to my friend.
I shake my head. This is why you always follow the procedure and why you never break the rules.
Anna's hand grips my arm.
She's behind me and I can feel her breasts and the warmth of her body, all up and down us both.
She speaks right beside my head, right into my ear.
"No," she says, and her voice gives me tingles. "It's ok. I need you to watch me. You obviously know this but when I woke up and saw you licking that bitch's asshole I got jealous. I can admit that to you. I was jealous. But you give me everything..well not everything..but almost everything every single night. Maybe you could bring yourself to get over your fear of being close to me and cock-fuck me sometime. 'Cause I'm the kind of girl that if she doesn't get cock every day or two..well it's like you said back there..I go crazy."
I cock-fucked her that night.
She had me tell her about what it was like for me, fucking her when she was clamped to the chair. I told her every detail—and that got us both right off.
"I was like, I own this little girl."
"You thought of me as a little girl?"
"You are a little girl to me."
Anna moaned and gripped her pussy around my cock.
I came in her three times that night—once in each hole—just to show I loved her.
Then I turned her on her stomach and spread her legs.
And I licked that woman's butthole for an hour.
By the time I was done, her pillow was wet with tears.