Perfectly Wicked, Chapter 9
Perfectly Wicked
By Jason D. Karl
Author's Note:
This story is dark, twisted, erotic fantasy fiction about a gay vigilante killer with paranormal abilities. It is the product of the author's imagination and should not be construed as real in any way. This should be read only by adults of legal age. The story contains explicit gay sex and the type of violence found in vampire stories. Don't try this at home or anywhere else.
Link to character images for this story.
Chapter 9: A Purple Kush Kind of Day
The story of what had quickly been dubbed the "Heart-Ripper Attacks" had dominated the news outlets and social media all morning. According to what was being reported, last night, over the course of a single hour, a series of coordinated attacks in 93 different countries resulted in 309 people dead from having their heart ripped out. In the most baffling case, the lights at a supermax prison had shut off for a few seconds, after which a notorious gang leader in solitary confinement had been found with his heart halfway crammed into his mouth. No eyewitnesses or video evidence had been found in that attack or any of the others. Who could have orchestrated such a thing? Speculation ranged from Yamaguchi-gumi assassins to space aliens' switching from mutilating cows to humans. For no clear reason, by late morning the blogosphere seemed to have decided the attacks were by some secret cult.
Spencer was sick of hearing about it.
All he could think about was the envelope that had shown up that morning. It held his test results and certificates, proof that he'd finished secondary school. What a letdown. In the United States, graduation from high school was a huge deal with ceremonies and speeches, but here in Pior Fossa it was just another day. You'd sit for your exams; wait for the mail; and when it came, you had your results--and that was that. No caps to toss in the air, no proud parents...
No. Stop. Don't think of her. Don't think of her. Just don't.
Hmm. Odd. He hadn't needed to use his mantra in weeks because his mother just didn't matter anymore. She'd pleaded guilty to all charges of felony domestic abuse and wouldn't be getting out of prison for years. Good riddance.
He reached over and plucked up the certificate that declared he had passed his exams. It was a strange feeling, knowing that he'd never step foot in the freak school again. But now what? His scores were good, not great. There would be no scholarships for university.
Pior Fossa was a corrupt city, but it did have one good policy for foster children: instead of cutting the "fosteree" off on their 18th birthday, it continued paying benefits until they completed secondary school. Now, even that was over. Even though the checks would stop coming, Señora Navarro, his honorary abuelita, had promised she wasn't going to kick him out. He was grateful, but he would have to make his own way. That meant getting a job of some kind. He thought about how much Kyle seemed to love being a hustler. Maybe Spencer could give whoring a try? That had to beat joining one of the cartels that ran Pior Fossa.
Then there was Sven. No, they weren't boyfriends, but they were friends and fuck buddies. Just last week, they'd had a three-way with some married DILF. So, yeah, Sven was fun and a good friend, that was why Spencer hated being dishonest with him.
Officially, Spencer had kept his promise and never mentioned the word "Erkek" to anyone, nor had he asked Sven anything more about them. But that didn't mean Spencer had stopped learning about the Erkek. Every time he had sex with anyone, his inexplicable mental powers grew stronger. This was especially the case when he fucked Sven. When his cock was up Sven's ass, it was like a switch flipped, and suddenly he could telepathically "see" bits and pieces of Sven's memories. Like the time when some huge thug with a knife tried to mug Sven, and he'd snapped the mugger's arm with a twist of his hand. Spencer had "felt" the joy Sven had had as he beat the man to death.
Spencer had pieced together that the Erkek had to be some sort of secret society of highly-trained vigilantes that took out the worst people. That resonated with him, but how exactly did one join the Erkek? Was it a matter of getting recruited? Could it be as simple as asking to join? Spencer hadn't figured that part out.
He bit off part of an edible. Not to get high, just take the edge off a bit. He was still amazed that marijuana was more or less mandatory in Abuelita's house. Maybe if he started paying rent, he could stay here long-term like Kyle did.
It occurred to him that to get a job, he'd have to shed the Ginger Jesus look. He was sick of it anyway, so he went to a local salon that accepted walk-ins. He told the hairstylist to lighten his hair and make it look professional.
"You're sure?" she asked.
"Yeah," Spencer said. "I need to get a job, so give me a job-interview haircut."
When she was finished, Spencer had barely recognized himself. He supposed the style was professional enough without going stodgy, but being a light strawberry blond instead of an Irish red would take some getting used to. And short hair meant less brushing and maintenance, so maybe it was worth it.
From the salon, he walked over to Sven's apartment. He wasn't home, so Spencer went to the bathroom in the park Sven often cruised. Sure enough, there he was, finishing up one of his world-class blowjobs with some rando. When that guy left, Spencer asked, "Are we still on for tonight?"
Sven knew a gay couple, Kushim and Javert, who ran a posh pet boutique called something or another in French. Apparently, they were into some manner of Daddy/boy kink and had invited Sven to bring a friend over tonight for a foursome. "Yeah, it's on. And what's with the new look?"
Spencer shrugged. "I just felt like a change."
"Looks good on you. Say, want to cruise with me for a bit before we head over?"
"I would, but I only have a couple of condoms with me."
"Don't worry, I've got plenty." He handed Spencer a pack.
They wandered the sleezier parts of the park and once again found the married DILF from the week before. No surprise there: this park was known for old-style cruising for those who couldn't risk using an app. Sven said, "Hey, you up for some fun?"
Sven, projecting his intentions, moved to pull out the DILF's cock and was met with a nod of assent. Spencer dropped to his knees in front of him and put on one of those vanilla-flavored condoms. The two of them worked in tandem, licking and sucking until the DILF came. Spencer wiped the spit off his mouth with the back of his hand and gave the man a grin. "Thanks, Daddy."
The DILF handed each of them a twenty, zipped up, and jogged away, probably going back to the wife and kids. They both gave a what-the-hell shrug. They cruised the park for an hour or so and sucked off more men. Neither of them asked for payment (hell, most of the time they didn't exchange a single word with those looking to get off), but they wound up pocketing some cash. Sven said he didn't need the money and gave his share to Spencer.
They made their way over to the much more affluent part of town. Instead of some fancy home, Sven took them to Le Chien Royal. Spencer couldn't help but feel a little surprised. "They're doing this at their pet store?"
Before Sven could answer, the door opened to reveal a really hot forty-something Daddy and a twenty-something Danish-looking man.
"Spencer, allow me to introduce you to tonight's hosts. This is Kushim Ro," Sven said, "And this is his lover, Javert Tissemand."
Spencer nodded awkwardly as they greeted him.
The inside of Le Chien Royal was indeed what you'd expect from a high-end pet shop: gleaming counters with glass displays filled with designer dog collars and gourmet treats. There were even a few poodles with bows in their fur, prancing around as if they owned the place. Spencer thought, but didn't say, "How stereotypical can you get?"
It turned out that Kushim and Javert had an apartment underneath the pet shop. Despite technically being a basement apartment, it was very nice. Almost lavish. Spencer didn't quite get it. "Doesn't it bother you guys, not having windows?"
Kushim said, "When you're as kinky as we are, it's best to keep your private life private. It might make our customers get squeamish if they knew what all we're into."
In the bedroom there was what had to be a custom-made bed because it was much wider than even a super-king size. Javert plopped down on it and said to Spencer, "Just so you know, Kushim might like to play the Daddy Dom thing, but the truth is he's a big old bottom."
"Don't listen to him. I'm versatile. But tonight, since you're new, I think we should cater to your tastes."
"Okay. I don't do pain," Spencer said. "And I don't want to be anyone's 'boy'."
Kushim suggested an alternative. "Okay. Then would you like to be the center of attention?"
"I don't know. What is it?"
"It's getting spit-roasted while a third man rides your cock."
Spencer's cock let out a little pre-cum at that idea. "I've never done that before (I'm still kinda new to sex), but it sounds like fun."
Kushim produced papers showing that both of them were STI-free. Sven and Spencer had been tested together a few weeks ago. Since they were all clean, they decided to skip the condoms.
The four of them stripped down. Spencer lay on his back and spread his legs. Sven said, "First things first." He took out a small ready-made joint, lit it, and passed it to Spencer. He'd only been smoking for a few months, but he knew enough to tell this was some premium, kickass weed.
Javert handed him a small bottle. "Poppers?" Spencer took a hit and felt his head spin a bit. He handed the bottle back and took another drag from the joint.
Kushim and Javert worked their way down Spencer's body, kissing and licking, until they reached his asshole. They took turns eating him out, while Spencer shared the joint with Sven, who stubbed it out once it was mostly smoked.
Finally, they were ready. Javert got into position. He must have had what Kyle called a Lucky 13 cock, because it went in easy and filled Spencer's ass just the right amount. But he didn't start thrusting right away. Next, Kushim straddled Spencer, and soon his ass engulfed Spencer's cock. Then Sven slid into Spencer's mouth. By some unseen signal, the three men started thrusting. The sensation wasn't overwhelming, it was just the right amount of whelming. Was "whelming" even a word? Fuck if Spencer knew, but he quickly decided that foursomes were his jam. Fuck that whole monogamy shit.
Spencer was used to picking up tidbits from Sven's mind whenever they fucked, but this time the link was much clearer. Of all the odd things to be thinking about, Sven's mental voice was saying, "You're right, he's not a hetero." Well, duh, Spencer was as gay as it gets and proud of it.
"But not an Abjo, though." Wait. What? Javert had thought that. Spencer hadn't even tried to peak into his mind. And what the hell was an Abjo?
"No, definitely not an Abjo, but he's got a lot of Erkek in him. I'd say half." That last one was from Kushim. What the fuck was going on? Then Spencer heard Kushim think, "Pour on the Mana; we're almost there."
And then it all happened at once. Spencer's eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure erupted in every cell in his body. How long the pleasure lasted, Spencer couldn't say. It might have been five seconds, or an hour, or all eternity.
Bam!
Their minds linked. Fully. All four of them. He saw so many things. The Erkek. They weren't a secret society: they were a species. And Spencer was part Erkek?
And then they all four orgasmed together. Cum in his ass. Cum down his throat. Cum splattered on his chest. And his own cum shot up Kushim's ass.
Quiet.
Spencer opened his eyes. Had he actually fainted from cumming that hard? He wasn't sure, but suddenly the sex was over, and the other three men were just staring at him with looks of astonishment.
Sven said, "Your mind is more powerful than I could have imagined."
Javert caressed Spencer. "You felt it, didn't you? The way we connected."
"Yeah. I thought the Erkek were some secret society, but you're not. You're not even human."
It was Sven who answered. "No, and neither are you. Not entirely."
Spencer was so confused. He'd been in all their heads, knew this was the truth, but couldn't quite make sense of it all. "How?"
Kushim said, "I wasn't sure until now, but your father was an Erkek. And I think I know which one."
"My father died before I was born."
"Yes, he did. Nineteen years ago, a visiting Erkek took a risk," Kushim said. "He decided to indulge a little with your mother. His body was found the next morning. We didn't know who the woman was because she'd taken off. And we weren't aware there had been any offspring."
"So, are you saying that my mother killed my father?"
Kushim answered, "No, not directly. Erkek are all what you would call 'gay.' We were deliberately designed that way to keep us from reproducing. For an Erkek, having reproductive sex is highly dangerous and often fatal. But some take the risk for a thrill and have sex with a woman. Your father was an extremely powerful Erkek, so maybe he thought he was strong enough. He took the risk, and it killed him. So you are an Erkek-human hybrid."
"What is an Erkek, then?"
Sven said, "Before we tell you, a little demonstration so you know we're not bullshitting you."
Spencer watched as Sven began to shift. The powerful muscles of his body elongated and stretched. With a soft hiss, Sven's form was replaced by the unmistakable shape of a green anaconda. And then, just as quickly as it had come, the snake shifted into the form of a small, delicate boy, maybe 10 years old. In a cartoonish voice this form said, "This is the shape I take to ambush dirty old men." The transformations didn't stop there. The "boy" scurried to the other side of the bedroom and then shifted into some creature that resembled a Kodiak bear on steroids. And then, just as abruptly, it shifted back into Sven's usual form. "The Erkek are shapeshifters and apex predators."
"What the fuck?"
Javert took up the explanation. "It helps if you know a little background. There is an ancient species called the Skapararnir. Maybe they came from somewhere else in the universe, maybe from some other universe. We don't know. But what we do know is that billions of years ago they developed the technology to explore the universe. And they saw something that troubled them, something in the way that intelligence evolved."
Spencer was dumbstruck.
"Intelligence," Kushim said, "seemed to bring with it a tendency towards malice. The Skapararnir watched civilizations rise and fall, all because of this self-destructive instinct."
Javert said, "They wanted to help, but they were just flesh and bone the same as anybody. However, their technology was billions of years ahead of everyone else. Might as well call it magic."
Sven rested his hand on Spencer's shoulder. "The Skapararnir created us, the Erkek. We are an entirely synthetic species. They designed us to take the form of whatever species they send us to. We infiltrate them and try to go unnoticed as we kill the most malicious members of that species. Hopefully, over thousands of generations, we shift the evolution of the species to something that can endure rather than self-destruct. Sometimes we succeed. Sometimes we don't. Twelve thousand years ago, the first of us were sent to Earth, to the heteros (that's what we usually call humans, since they get so uptight about heterosexuality)."
Kushim said, "Which brings us to you. In order to tell you our secrets, we had to make sure you'd never reveal us to the heteros. Which is why the three of us working together put a block in your mind while you were unconscious. You'll never be able to mention us to anyone who doesn't already know we exist. It's for your own protection, and ours."
Spencer felt a little pissed at their confession of mental manipulation. "So what? It's like the mafia's Omertà thing?"
Javert said, "We're sorry we had to use force, but the secret has to be kept safe. We can't do what we are here to do if this species knows about us. It just doesn't work."
"Then why tell me anything at all?"
Kushim sighed. "Because we didn't have a choice. A few months ago, Sven told me about meeting you. For you to do what you did, to pluck information out of his mind, meant you had to have at least some Erkek heritage. How much, I didn't know, so we've been observing you. It's clear your powers are growing."
Sven interrupted Kushim. "Spencer, what he's getting at is that the part of you that's Erkek is so strong that it will compel you to act as one of us. And what we do is we fuck and we feed. Fucking means consensual gay sex. Feeding means killing malicious people. The problem is that you only have some of the Erkek abilities. We don't know just how much you'll be able to do. Having lots of gay sex will buy you some time, but when your instincts latch onto someone really nasty, you need to kill them."
"I've been thinking about it since The Bleeder started making the news. Then when I started catching glimpses into Sven's mind, I thought the Erkek were some sort of vigilante society. I was thinking maybe I could help you out somehow, but I don't know if I could do it myself."
"None of us have a choice," Javert said. "If we don't do it willingly, the programming the Skapararnir built into our nature will take over and force us to do it."
"Can't I just give you a name of somebody and let you do the killing?"
Kushim asked, "Did you hear about the so-called 'Heart-Ripper Attacks'?"
Spencer nodded. "Yeah, a cult or something like that."
Kushim shook his head. "That was no cult, no terrorist organization. It was a single Erkek-human hybrid who tried to refuse his nature. The Skapararnir built into the Erkek what I suppose you could call an insurance policy. We call it 'raging'. It's what happens to us if we don't kill often enough or if we refuse to kill even one person our predator instinct latches onto. You're not a full Erkek, so there's a chance you won't latch onto anyone. But if you ever do, and you refuse to kill your prey... Well, let's just say you'll make the news."
"So, this other one, the guy who killed all those people, is like me?"
"No," Kushim said.
"But you just said we're both part Erkek."
Sven said, "You are, but you're not an Abjo like he is. You're something different. You're stable."
"Then what the hell is an Abjo?"
"An Abjo," Kushim explained, "is an Erkek-human hybrid who possesses all of our powers, but they're always unstable. That's why the Skapararnir designed us to all be gay: it's to prevent the birth of an Abjo. But the Skapararnir aren't perfect, they're not gods, and so a few Abjo do get born."
Spencer could only say, "Well shit!"
Perhaps to lighten the mood, Sven said, "On the bright side, Erkek are immune to all diseases. If your powers keep growing, you might wind up not needing to worry about safe sex."
Even though Spencer was officially on information overload, he asked, "Then why do you use condoms and get tested?"
Sven grinned. "That's just to fit in; we don't actually need to."
§§§
Later, he decided to take the train home to give himself time to think. He'd always felt like something was off about him, something more than just being gay. He was a puzzle piece trying to fit into the wrong puzzle. So what the fuck now? How could he just go back to his life after this?
It was about eleven at night when Spencer made it home. To his surprise, both Abuelita and Kyle were up. Usually, Kyle was out hustling at night, and Abuelita was in bed by ten.
Kyle was sitting on the couch, clearly high. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his posture was tense. Spencer could feel the anger and fear rolling off him in waves. He hadn't been able to read Kyle before, so maybe his powers really were growing stronger, but he didn't feel like dealing with all that just now.
Abuelita was smoking a joint, and she was looking pissed off. Spencer hoped he wasn't the object of her wrath. "What's wrong?"
"Shitty day." Kyle held up the joint he was smoking. "A Purple Kush kind of day."
Spencer nodded. "Tell me about it. Same here." He took a pre-rolled joint from the tin labeled "Purple Kush" and lit it. Damn that was strong weed. The strongest he'd ever had.
"Oh, really?" Kyle said.
Spencer considered telling them about the Erkek in some vague, roundabout way, but he felt the mental block kick in. He literally couldn't say anything about them. Fortunately, after Abuelita took a drag off her joint, she changed the subject. "What's with the hair?"
Spencer had forgotten he'd had his hair done that day. "Oh, figured I ought to tame it down a bit. Might make looking for a job easier."
Kyle asked, "Any luck?"
"No, not yet. I was thinking about giving your line of work a try."
"You mean whoring?" Kyle's voice was incredulous.
Spencer nodded. "Yeah, it might be easier to get into than something like office work, and I could make good money."
Kyle wrinkled his brow and squinted his dilated eyes. "You're serious?"
"Well, I went cruising in the park today. I sucked off, I don't know, about a dozen men. Some of them threw money at me, and I didn't even ask for it. Made about eighty-five. So, yeah. Why not?"
Kyle took a drag and exhaled a plume of smoke. "You're too nice to be a whore."
Spencer threw up his hands. "I need money, and I don't want to have to get in with one of the cartels."
Abuelita took another drag off her joint. "Kyle's right. You're too kindhearted for that life. Anyway, I got a call today from one of my contacts. It's not official yet, but your mother is getting released from prison."
"What the fuck! She damn near killed me! She's supposed to serve five to ten years."
"I know," Abuelita said.
"How can they do that?"
"Well, it seems that getting spiritual counseling from Reverend Jackson was enough to convince the judge to release her," Abuelita said with obvious sarcasm.
Spencer felt his blood boil. "But she fucking pleaded guilty to all charges!"
Abuelita sighed heavily. "It's politics, Spencer. Reverend Jackson has his claws in deep. And, apparently, your mother is marrying Deacon Kurt Vierme, the judge's brother. So, as a wedding present, he's going to throw out the confession and the guilty plea."
Spencer clenched his fist. "Getting married? To a deacon from the church that ordered my mother to beat the gay out of me? Are you fucking kidding me?"
Abuelita took a final drag then put out her joint. "It's shitty, but that's life."
Spencer took several hits off his joint as he paced around. Even by the time he'd finished it, the Purple Kush high wasn't enough to calm him down. Then he felt something shift in his mind, like solving a CAPTCHA and getting access to something locked away. He found himself saying, "When she gets out, I'm fucking going to kill her."
Kyle stared at him. "Don't say shit like that, man. You can't just go around killing people."
"Why not?"
Kyle looked stunned. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Spencer turned to face Kyle. "I'm saying that she deserves it. She tried to kill me. And now she's marrying into the very same church that brainwashed her into doing it. Fuck that!"
Abuelita said, "Look, Spencer, you can't just go and kill your mother."
Spencer looked at Abuelita. "You don't get it. She fucked with my head my whole damn life. Then she beat me half to death. And now she's just going to walk away scot-free? Fuck no!" Then he turned to Kyle and said, "You know the streets, so you can help me do it; but even if you don't, I'm fucking going to kill my goddam bitch of a mother."
Abuelita's voice was firm. "This isn't you, Spencer."
"You don't know what it's like!"
Abuelita got up, walked over to him, and pulled the patch off her left eye socket. There was no eye there. It was just a healed-over mass of scarred flesh. "Don't fucking tell me I don't know what it's like to live with a monster!"
"Abuelita, I didn't mean..."
"I know what you meant."
"I have to do it. I just have to."
Abuelita put her eye patch back in place and sat back down. "Say you do go off and kill her. Why drag Kyle into it with you?"
He looked at his foster brother and then turned back to Abuelita. Something leapt from her mind to Spencer's. A memory. Long ago. A creature killed her husband. She didn't know the word, but she'd met an Erkek. She knew about them. She suspected that Kyle...
Whether it was from the epiphany or just from being high, Spencer heard himself say, "Because Kyle is The Bleeder!"
Thank you for reading my story. Please let me know if you think I should continue it. Comments and suggestions are welcome.
My other series on Nifty is A Hankering for Pecker which is a comedy about an 19-year-old who comes out to his hillbilly father. https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/a-hankering-for-pecker/
I also have a standalone story on Nifty called The Boys Who Loved. It is a sweet fairytale about two boys who fall in love at a tender age and how their parents deal with it. https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-boys-who-loved.html
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