Quick Author's Note: This is my first attempt at erotic fiction, and I'm basically testing waters here. Let me know things you liked, if you liked anything in it at all, and things you disliked. I guarantee that Volume 2 will be much better. Thanks for reading.
From Lloyd's Point of View
I never liked my Aunt Vicky; she was a snobby stuck up bitch that seemed to enjoy patronizing everyone. It didn't help that the man she married was a weak willed accountant whom she could boss around all the time. She acted superior to everyone, especially me. I was always the odd one of the family, the one who never quite fit in. And she made it her duty to point this out to everyone at every family gathering and make snide comments of my choice to pursue art rather then a conventional job. At first it didn't bother me that much, but it just slowly chipped away at me. Piece by piece I fell apart at each snooty comment and every little patronizing grin she would give me as if I was some sort of idiot child. I began to want to hurt her, and hurt her bad.
I felt myself starting to grow anger towards all women. Every woman I met reminded me of Aunt Vicky and seemed to be the same materialistic queen that she was. What were once normal sexual desires towards women I saw on the street turned dark and twisted. I wanted to hurt them all, but none more than Aunt Vicky. So I started downloading rape porn and going to chats and forums of rape victims who told their stories and masturbated to them. The more degrading and horrible the better, and soon had a links to nothing but fantasy rape websites, it became an addiction. I wanted to do it for real, but I felt small and weak, and stroked away to the violent fantasies floating in my head.
It was on one of these fantasy rape websites that I happened upon a post with a picture on it. Wouldn't you know it, it was Aunt Vicky. Despite being in her mid forties she still had a tight body and a serious set of breasts. Her post was fairly simple; she had fantasies of blackmail and rape, and noted that she hoped no one she knew would see this. I wondered what would happen if I leaked this to her weakling husband, or maybe some of her more judgmental friends. I felt myself getting hard at the thought of this and knew exactly what I wanted to do.
I called her up one morning and told her I needed to borrow some tools from their garage and would come over in a few minutes. I knew she would say okay since she couldn't resist hammering me about not being able to afford to buy tools for myself. I arrived at her house right after Uncle Bert (the husband) left for work and everything was running on time. She greeted me at the door and followed me into the garage where I rummaged around for a bit, acting as if I had forgotten what I needed. I was getting nervous and not sure if this would work, but I knew I was threatening to take away the thing she loved the most, her standing in the community. It was time to begin.
"Hey Aunt Vicky, I can't remember what kind of tool I needed. It just slipped right out of my head; can I use your computer to look it up?" I asked.
She nodded, "sure, you know where it is right? It's just upstairs in the family room."
I thanked her and walked into the house and upstairs right into the family room where their computer was. I sat down, booted it up, took a deep breath and typed in the website where she posted her fantasy. I just sat back and waited, since she couldn't go too long without having to check up on me. It took her longer then I expected but I heard her footsteps starting their way up the stairs to the family room. My heart pounded and my nerves grew more and more erratic with each step she took up those stairs. I had to get control of myself; I couldn't possibly control her if I couldn't control myself. I had to be confidant, forceful and demanding. I wasn't about to take no for an answer, this was it and I calmed myself.
"Did you find it?" She asked coming into the family room. She walked over and peered over my shoulder to look at the screen.
I smiled, "no but I found something else." I turned in the chair to face her and saw her jaw drop, her face flushed over and her chest started to heave. She took a few steps back her eyes staring at the screen in disbelief, and fumbled with words to try and find something to say, but I spoke first. "Imagine what all your friends and neighbors would think if they saw this. They don't even need to see it, just hear of it, the mere idea of it would destroy your relationships with them. Wouldn't it?"
