Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
It’s then that I realize who these folks are. Chloe’s parents have returned to the trailer park … and they think that I’m a god of their new religion.
10
Carl
“Oh my god!” I squeal, pulling myself off of Carl’s huge hammers. The massive poles feel incredible as they slide out, and my pussy and ass ripple again involuntarily. After all, we just did DP with me in his lap. The problem is that it was reverse cowgirl DP, and I was facing forwards with my legs splayed, boobies out, with two cocks crammed into my holes when my parents burst in!
But there’s no sense in losing it because Tom and Bertha, I mean Trekko and Bezimba, are acting insane. They’re on their knees, babbling in tongues as their eyes roll up into their heads. They look worse for the wear too. My parents are only in their mid-40’s, and yet somehow, the last two years have aged them viciously. Their hair is scraggly and grey, their skin leathery and wrinkled, and they’re dressed in faded, colorless rags. Not only that, but there’s a weird ammonia-like smell emanating from their forms. Is it incense? Patchouli? It smells different, but I can’t identify what it is. Nonetheless, I grab a throw blanket from the sofa and quickly wrap it around my nude curves.
“Mom? Dad?” I gasp. “What are you doing here?”
“We are searching for the messiah!” Bezimba moans while rocking back and forth on her knees. “We have discovered him!”
“Shaman Roku was right!” adds Trekko, prostrating himself at our feet. “The messiah was here all along! We did not have to leave home on a spiritual journey to find him!”
By now, Carl’s donned his pants and his cocks are no longer visible.
“I assure you, I’m no messiah,” he growls. “Of your religion, or any other for that matter.”
“No, you are, you are!” squeals Bezimba. “It is you, oh holy master! We have searched high and low for your eternal presence, only to find you here, at St. George Crossing! The fates are wily, but in the end, they delivered!”
Then, she begins speaking in tongues. It sounds crazy, and it looks scary too because my mom’s eyes roll up in the back of her head, like she’s not getting enough oxygen. Not only that, but somehow, it’s like a contagion and my dad also begins speaking in tongues, except his includes fragments of English. He blurts, “Double cocks! Our mighty one has double dicks! Holy messiah, you are THE ONE!”
Carl and I stare at each other with a combination of bafflement and terror. What do you do with two religious zealots who believe they’ve discovered a god among their midst? Not only that, but they’re shaking, moaning, and frothing at the mouth like they’re on drugs. Could it be? Are they on something that’s causing this over-the-top behavior?
Suddenly, the door to the trailer bursts open, and a SWAT team swarms into the small space. The men are dressed in black body armor, complete with helmets, batons, and heavy weaponry.
“Hands up!” the shout. “Get them!”
I stare at Carl, terrified, but the huge man stays calm. He raises his hands, and sure enough, the SWAT team isn’t focused on us at all. Instead, they’re pointing their guns at my parents, who continue to babble and sway on their knees.
“Our god has two cocks!” Bezimba wails. “He is THE ONE!”
“The messiah’s anatomy is double-pronged!” Trekko adds in his own wail. “He shall smite thee with his great spears!”
Oh shit! My parents are talking about Carl’s anatomy in the open. His secret is going to get out!
But fortunately, no one seems to be listening, nor to care. After all, Bezimba and Trekko come across as religious zealots who are off their rocker. It’s as if they’ve been smoking too much hashish, and are hallucinating about god-knows-what. Sure enough, they’re arrested and dragged out of the trailer within seconds. I can still hear them moaning and wailing as they’re shoved into a police van.
Meanwhile, Carl and I stand there, blinking at each other, as SWAT officers continue to search the trailer.
“What just happened?” I whisper, clutching the blanket close to my chest. “What was that? And why are you searching my trailer?”
“I’m Officer Pratt,” one particularly burly man says. “You are?”
“Chloe Mackie,” I reply in a shaking voice. “I live here. What was that?”
“What is your relation to Bertha and Tom Mackie?” he questions, those blue eyes sharp.
“They’re my parents,” I swallow. “At least, they were before they became Bezimba and Trekko, followers of a religion called Apotheosis.”
Officer Pratt nods, as if he’s aware of this already.
“Yes, that’s what we’re here for,” he says in a cool tone. “Your parents are drug traffickers. They’ve been arrested for importing opium into the United States.”
“Opium?” I ask in a horrified tone, cringing at the word. “Are you serious? Is that what the smell is?”