It was a bitterly cold, wet morning. The icy wind howled through the leafless branches of tall dark trees cutting ruthlessly into any exposed flesh it could find. It found the thin, hollow cheeks of old Tom Grady, as he huddled against the merciless chilly onslaught that threatened to freeze him to the bone. His black well worn boots trudged up the stony path that led to his friend Colonel James Rhys or the Colonel as most people called him.
Jimmy wasn't really a friend but more of a partner. Not a partner as in a couple but a partner in crime. Because what they did together was certainly a crime.
Two old men and an eighteen year old girl, fondling, rubbing, kissing and sucking. Helpless, subservient, compliant, eager to please, she seemed to like it and even if she didn't, they certainly didn't care. They took turns with her, sometimes alone, sometimes together, taking her in all positions and places. And she took it with perverse docility, only her eyes mirrored the emptiness in her soul.
Tom couldn't wait for tonight's session. He and the Colonel always had their night of sin every Sunday evening. What made the nights so special was that they always used the same girl. One would have thought that they would be tired of using the same girl again and again but that certainly wasn't the case. She was special, very special. She was special because she was the Colonel's only daughter Angelina or Angel as they fondly called her. She was the reason he was braving the filthy weather to feel her warm body in his old, gnarly fingers.
His knock went unanswered for a few minutes before the door opened to reveal the tall figure of Angela. For some reason Tim felt a chill in his bones and it wasn't from the weather.
Angela was not what you would call beautiful. Her name seemed inappropriate for her face as she looked a bit backward. Her eyes were too wide apart and her nose too broad. Her mouth was too big, although she had thick, juicy lips which Tom knew she used very well. Her treasure lay in her body which was so voluptuous that if it belonged to a smaller girl she would have looked fat. Her breasts and buttocks stuck out from her slight frame in right angles, giving her an S- shaped posture. She was a dumb blonde stereotype, a buxom young girl that looked like a CGI fantasy figure with about as much personality. Tom couldn't take his lecherous eyes off her. He wanted to tear the flimsy pink nightgown off her rack.
She was normally quiet and moody but tonight there was something odd about her demeanor. Tom noticed she was even more spaced out than usual- her huge, wide apart eyes were as cold and as empty as those of the dead. She just stood at the door and stared at him, her face completely bereft of any form of expression. Tim thought it odd that she answered the door. She never answered the door.
"Where's your father?" he asked curtly as he hurriedly came indoors and slammed the door behind him.
Angela continued to stare at him. Tom noticed that even though her eyes were staring straight at him, her ice blue pupils moved slowly from left to right. Like she was sleeping, he thought. Was she sleepwalking?
"Where is your father?" Tom repeated, gently this time.
"Daddy is not here" she said laconically. Her voice was flat and without the thick countryside accent she normally had.
"Then where is he?" Tom asked surprised.
"Daddy is no longer in this world. Daddy is in the well."
A cold shiver crawled up his spine and goose pimples broke out over his skin.
"What! What are you saying?"
Angela offered no other comment. Tom called out the Colonel's name. No answer. He proceeded to search the house expecting resistance from Angela. But she stood in one spot and followed his movements with blank, unblinking eyes. The Colonel was nowhere to be found.
But the well...? thought Tom in horror.
There was a disused well in the backyard. The thought of his friend being at the bottom on such a cold evening chilled him to the bone. He went to check...
A few minutes later paramedics pulled the unconscious body of Colonel Rhys from the bottom of the well. He had been bashed over the head with something hard and it was a miracle that he was still alive. He ended up in a coma and Angel was promptly arrested.
***
Chief of Police Jeremy Jones couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, trying his best not to disturb his wife who lay next to him. Eventually he lay on his back and stared sightlessly at the ceiling, his right hand straying into his pajama trousers to touch himself. His mind, his thoughts, his dreams were full of only one thing: his daughter Karen. He wanted her so badly he thought he would go mad.
He suddenly got out of bed and silently left the room. Walking to the furthest door on the right side of the house, he placed his hand on the knob. He felt guilty and afraid but at the same time he felt excited. He turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open.
The room was submerged in darkness but a thin sliver of moonlight came through the half closed curtains and fell across her sleeping form. He walked over to the edge of the bed and stared down at his daughter. She was a ravishing creature- long raven black hair, an oval sensual face with smoldering dark eyes, a pert nose and luscious full lips. Her breasts were small but perky and seemed to punch holes into anything she was wearing. She had a perfect heart shaped bum that seemed sculpted from hard wood and legs that went on forever. Right now she lay on her belly, her face to one side, her hair a messy halo around her head on the pillow. Her right thumb was stuck in between her impossibly succulent lips, her eyes half-closed in sleep. She had on a t-shirt and a pair of baby blue briefs that fit her bum like a glove. Her exposed cheeks reflected the moonlight. She looked absolutely adorable.
Jeremy shivered and he felt his arousal mushroom into a full blown erection. He wanted to touch her so badly. He found it incredibly disturbing that he had these feelings for his only daughter. He had had them for a long time and they got more intense as she got older. Now she was twenty three and shockingly beautiful and her sensuality had eclipsed even the love he had for his wife. He had always been a faithful husband and father and had never done anything to offend them. But this passion, this lust was threatening everything he held dear including his sanity. If he consummated his lust he had no doubt of the consequences it would bring to his family.
He reached out and gently touched her back. He knew she was a very heavy sleeper and could sleep through a great deal of groping before being roused awake. Anyway he could always pretend he was checking that she was properly tucked up in bed.
After a slight hesitation he placed his hand on her bottom. His fingers inched slowly to her exposed flesh. He closed his eyes as he savored the soft, firm skin under his fingers. He left his hand there for a long time. He let his fingers trail the crack of her bottom and was even bold enough to give her ass cheek a gentle squeeze. Her only response was to grunt in her sleep and wriggle her bottom slightly. He reluctantly decided to leave. He badly wanted to feel her sharp, pointed breasts but she was lying on her belly and he would have to turn her over to get a good purchase. That would surely wake her. Taking one long, last look, he left the room. He didn't get the chance to try and get back to sleep. The phone rang and his deputy informed him that Colonel Rhys was in the hospital.
***
Middleton is an old, obscure English town lost in the countryside. Its population is barely above 5000 and its crime rate is probably the lowest in the world. It hadn't had a violent crime in the past two decades and this recent incident was going to upset the proverbial applecart. Chief of Police Jeremy Jones was very annoyed that his beloved town's idyllic existence had been shattered by this shocking incident.
Colonel Rhys was a loner that was rumored to be filthy rich. However he lived in a dilapidated cottage with his only daughter after his wife left him. He hated any form of technology and only managed to own a phone. He avoided banks and it was rumored he kept his money in gold bars stored somewhere in the house. No one cared to find out because he was a decorated soldier and owned an impressive arsenal that he was more than willing to use on trespassers or would be burglars. There were also rumors that he was shagging his daughter. Jeremy didn't like the man but then again, nobody did except for maybe Tom Grady who was a real creep.
Jeremy walked into the interrogation room and faced Angel across the table. She was wearing a see-through night gown and he could see her nipples. He felt instantly aroused and he was glad he was behind a table. Angel looked disoriented. She kept looking around her like she didn't know where she was, her face a mask of confusion.
"Angel, what happened last night?" he asked in a gravelly voice.
"I don't understand. What am I doing here?" She sounded scared.
"You're father is in a coma."
"What!" She looked at him in horror.
Jeremy was confused. She didn't look like she was play acting.
"Angel" he said softly, "You told Tom Grady that your father was in the well. That's where he was found with his head bashed in. An ashtray was found with blood on it. Unless Tom is lying it seems you were the only one in the house. He said you were acting strange like you were on drugs. What happened?"
"It was a dream..." she whispered, "Only a dream."
"What?"
