Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Caged Heat

It was Tuesday, well, I think it was Tuesday. To be honest, I’m not really sure what day it is anymore. But for the sake of telling this story, let’s say it was Tuesday when she first showed up. She entered my life looking like she had just walked out of a Victoria’s Secret catalogue, all hot and tempting.

Let me add, so you understand the complexities of my own twisted thought process, I’ve never been one to back away from anything, and she wasn’t going to be the first. So, I sucked in all the pride I could muster, which I’ll be honest with you was a damn swag load, grabbed my lunch from the cafeteria, and sat beside her, holding out my hand to introduce myself.

She smiled and said her name was Jenny. With a little poking and some well-practiced prodding, I found out she’d just moved to town with her parents from the mainland. Apparently, or so she said, her dad had taken a new job and forced the whole family to move down here with him. I could tell from the sharpness of her words and the pauses she used that she wasn’t so happy about it all. As the conversation flowed, she told me how she had to uproot her life, leave all her friends behind, and come here to live where she knew no one.

I’ll tell you, she didn’t really come across as the nicest person I’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. Her words were sharp, to the point, and almost a little rude, but not too rude. I mean, I got all that out of her in just one sitting, so she wasn’t some crazy arsed bitch, but at the same time, she wasn’t totally warm and fuzzy either. She was just a bit uppity. For me, it’s all about setting up that first impression, kicking a goal for the home team. Because once you’ve gone around the block a few times, you realise that’s what people remember most. Until, of course, you reveal your true self, your true motives, then nothing you do will fix that. Anyway, this isn’t about me, it’s about her. In the end, I couldn’t blame her for being on the defensive. I mean, she was a fish out of water and apparently, according to her, I was the first person besides the teachers who’d even bothered to talk to her.

I played it cool, said it was because she was hot, and a lot of people don’t know how to act around hot people. I got a laugh, which I was proud of. That’s when she asked me my name again. I knew from experience the home crowd would be cheering my efforts right now as the ball sailed straight through the middle of the goals. I proudly repeated my name, and for the next twenty minutes, we talked about things I didn’t really care to talk about—things she’d given up coming here, how angry she was at her dad, stuff like that. To be honest, if she wasn’t so hot, I would’ve gotten bored long before that. But there was something about the way her lips moved when she talked that really dragged me in, kept me sitting there like I was in some sort of weird arsed trance.

For the next few days, we had lunch together every day. I found more and more things that annoyed me about her. But no matter how annoying she was, I was still captivated by her smile, her eyes, the way her breasts moved with each breath, her tight little arse I didn’t get to see as much as I wanted to, and those lips, those goddamn lips.

She was standing at the school’s gate this morning, sending out vibes I was happy to answer. That’s when she sprung it on me—not THAT! She asked if I wanted to come meet her parents tonight. Before my jumbled words escaped my lips, she told me they were having a small party. Apparently, her father’s work colleagues were welcoming him to town, and because I was her only friend—yup, she said friend—I had to come to keep her company.

Now, this is one of those moments where all decision-making is removed from the upper extremities, and I let my privates do the deciding for me. I know, I know, how fucking stupid can one man be, but honestly, you don’t think about those sorts of things until you have the chance to reflect, when the blood returns from—well, you get the drift.

Sometimes reflection sadly comes too late, hindsight and all that jazz. You know, where you give yourself a number of different scenarios about how things should’ve played out. That’s what I’m doing right now, reflecting. Mainly because I’ve got nothing else to do here in the darkness.

That’s what it’s been like for the last hour or so, darkness, nothing but my own thoughts to keep me company. Finally, a door opens from up above, followed by footsteps, and I hear someone coming down the stairs. I know instantly it’s her; I can tell by the way she’s sort of marching, but not at the same time.

I let out a muffled laugh, not because I’m happy or excited to see her, but because I can imagine those perky tits moving up and down along with each cheek of her arse as she comes down the stairs.

Before I know it, she’s standing in front of the cage and kneels down, smiling like she’s just won the lottery. She starts talking, moving those lips up and down. They quiver, as do I. I don’t really know what she’s saying, only catching a few words here and there, but the gist of the conversation is that it won’t be long, and she’s sure her parents and their friends are really going to like me as much as she does. To be honest, it’s all lost on me, but the way she licked her lips when she stopped talking, the way her eyes widened, made me cry a little.