Message-ID: <26491asstr$969819008@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: "Sean Farragher" X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 (Normal) X-MSMail-Priority: Normal Importance: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400 Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6: FUCKING STEPFATHER Billy Reese by Laurie Fallon Date: Sun, 24 Sep 2000 14:10:08 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, RuiJorge Also From TxM6 Hyperfiction http://www.txm6.com (updated 9/16/00) http://www.txm6.com/enfer (updated 9/17/00) http://www.txm6.com/lcfallon http://www.farragher.com (Poetry updated 9/20/00) TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only. Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher. 0887XB from O002X Billy Reese Billy Reese By Laurie Fallon: January 16, 1992 Laurie Fallon posted her background story and news clip on her corkboard bulletin board in 1987. "I did it," she told Henry "to remind me of Billy. I never want to forget." "Dated 1980, the story had turned yellow like my sheets after Billy slept in my bed after my Mom and Billy stopped talking. Mom claims she dumped him. Billy dropped her when she started pissing in the bed after mixing too much alcohol and downers. Bill explained that the men in the clip (inmates and screws) were heroes. He predicted after he read me the story that he would die in prison. That was 1980. I was twenty. When he left that day, I clipped the story from the newspaper and pinned it on my wall. Billy died in prison in 1989. He was a prophet and a wise guy. He was a fuck-up and perhaps the best lover I have known. I knew my first orgasm by his fingers. He was my second cock. "When they threw Billy away in 1985, I was glad to be rid of him. He never stopped me from knowing other men, but I had tired of his stupidity. Sometimes he would fuck me after I had been fucked or sucked five johns. He would snort the dope, pat my head, and ask for some. I was Billy's mother. I fed him and Mom. She'd walked past and simply smile. I didn't hate her for her disrespect. I hated her for not loving Billy. Years later after Billy's death, Mom and I made up in a casual way. Talked to each other as two girl friends that wanted what the other had known and had. Understood both my parents. They were fucked up. I grew in that dysfunction, as it is called. I never believed I would escape it. Perhaps I haven't. Even Henry, twenty-two years older is part of my mask. When I was 14, I tried to seduce him when he taught poetry at my school. I loved him for many years. When he was publicly fired for fucking a college girl in one of his classes, I was turned on, sad, and jealous. I wished then I were a rich college girl. In 1987, I discovered my grand parents and Uncles were very rich. They bought an estate in Morristown, NJ. They knew I was a drug addict and refused to give me money, but I had everything else. I was also told if I were clean, drug free for a year, they would take care of my life. Mother had refused them. She still did. I took what gifts they gave, medical care, tuition for school and with the that connection oddly felt like I could make it. Money is important. Love came second, and was much harder. I took me five years to convince Henry that he was mind. Money not Henry changed my life. I never forgot Billy. I though he was one stepfather. Then I thought he was my father, and then I found my true father in Malachi. Finally I won my lover father Henry. When he fucks me I imagine him watching my birth. I look at pictures of my mother and other pictures of Henry when he was a young man and I imagine them fucking. I have seen her fuck. I know how she moves. I know how I move. We are the same. I told Billy about Henry during one jail visit. I told him about compulsion. He laughed and said, graciously, "don't fuck this one up. You need a daddy, and I am never getting out of here. Other times, he would be cruel when I visited, and remind me of how I had murdered my twin sister and younger brothers in the fire he said I set when I was 11. I believed him as I thought I had left the stove on when I fell asleep or perhaps trying that first cigarette I flicked it the wrong place in the kitchen when I was surprised. He said I was a killer like him, and when I get out of here, he said, you will fuck me again like old times. I told him I would, smiling, knowing as sick as he had become, he would never get free. I was glad and sad when he died. I told Henry all of this. Henry called me God. Said I was a spirit emanating from some mythical broad Christ Tina that he fucked in his dreams. MORE ABOUT BILLY: I visited Billy at Trenton State prison every month for years. They all thought I was his adult daughter. His lover's knew differently, Billy told me how he would murmur my name when they sucked him off. He said he would say Mom's name when he was fucked in the ass. I asked him what he said when he fucked his lover in the ass. He told me he didn't do that. That would make him queer, and he wasn't. I remember laughing at him. He laughed with me knowing it was all bullshit. I found the newspaper article last year in the bottom of a chest. I tacked him up on my wall by my bed. Henry read it and thought it and odd story. I told him why. He shook his head and held me, saying I must have hated it. I told Henry I loved it. He made me come sometimes just by looking at his sorry ass. Just like you do -- but for different reasons. AUSTIN, TEXAS: JUNE 17, 1980 Remains of a newspaper item clipped by Billy Reese. [First part of News Story had worn away. This is all that remained until I looked up the information. This is the part that is still clipped to my wall. Laurie Fallon, January 20, 1992] . . .The next day all hell broke lose. Joe Hedron learned that his daughter was pregnant with his best friend's child. Joe accepted death and the mad surgery of murder. I will kill them all including that fuck at the prison. He must have done her too. Looks just like Mitchell. What an asshole, I've been to trust anyone. Fuck my wife and daughter. They're all sluts. I cannot let them hold me back. They know it. It's over. 1 PM First, Joe murdered Mitchell, quietly while they fished on the lake. Joe was surprised by his reserve and control. And when Mitchell finally gave up, allowed the bliss of the end to cover his presence, Joe smiled, cleaned the boat and returned home without fish or tackle. 11 PM All in all, Joe saw it as a mission. Next, letting himself inside Mitchell house, he waited for the children. First, he raped Heather, who seemed to get into it. When she did, he strangled her with a piece of rope, calling her slut and hussy, finally sleeping next to the body, he woke, time to murder Samantha who slept in the bedroom far on the other side of the house. At 3 AM Reaching Samantha, he held her down, covering her ass, he fucked her raw, and then when he was done, he slapped her, letting they hysteria growl, until she resembled an animal that he simply smothered with one hard hand, letting the spine and the throat meet at the edge where oblivion and the beast devour, swallow the each other's sleep. As a final coup, Joe covered Heather and Samantha' heads with the pillow, making certain, he drowned them in a cover of feathers. At 4 AM Joe buried Samantha and Heather in the deep well behind the lake house. No one knew about it, and Joe resisted the temptation to call the cops when he was done, and give up the ghost, confess all of it. They deserved it. No, I rather die with them. Then 5 AM First Joe slaughtered his wife, who was having breakfast with his daughter. One shot gun blast and she was finished, and then Patty, who was quicker than her father, escaped into the woods. Fuck her, he said, and he left her, took a shower, got dressed, and then drove to work, as if nothing had happened. Patty, and no one believed this later. Crazed by the murders, she cried unable to move for hours, she stared at the walls, and shook from head to foot. When she learned that her father had murdered Donald Hall, taking his own life shortly after, she felt as if responsibility had passed from her to some other force or blank wall. That last crime made the least sense, and was the most reprehensible. Yet it was the murder of two families that made the headlines, but with no living murdered, it was over before it started. Patty, alone in the world had her baby and suffered with a crazed mania. I can't move without crying, she sighs. I am alive and dead. He's alive and dead. Madness is this possession, the folly and lost of the boundary where the empty sky slips beneath the tide, and then no relief. My child and I are swimmers, she said. Let's fly. Governor replacing former Governor Tits Little, who had recently been removed from office for misappropriation of more than two million dollars in State prison Authority funds. Governor Little, currently under indictment, claimed his campaign committee legally used the funds under current state law. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+