insidiousintentions

[insidiousintentions]

TCM: GITL 4

This is the first posting of a story on tumblr. I hope everything works out well. It is going to be for sure NSFW in some places. Absolutely 18+ You know the story and how the family works. Don’t be mad, we all know what you came here for to read. Don’t be upset because of something silly. It is not an x reader story, my brain can’t function that way, I’m sorry.

Let me know how it is... Please.. Q~Q

Part Four

Now leaving the scene, others stayed behind with the sheriff as he guided everyone on what to do. A younger looking deputy, clearly new enough that the sweat on his forehead was not from the heat. Driving back was the longest, Iris growing bored of the scenery due to it not being in the direction she still hoped to go. Northbound, she regretted getting back into any other vehicle she wasn’t in control of. 

“Sounds like you are the granddaughter of a sheriff? That makes sense why you kept your calm.” The boy of a man tried making small talk, his white knuckles showing his uncomfortability in the situation. 

“That’s about right. Three more counties away is where he controlled. And I mean controlled, nobody dared do anything out of order. My father wasn’t on the badge side, he resided on the military side. He still maintained order though.” Clouds passed on by and the deputy still never got any less nervous. “Have you ever had to kill anything?”

Unbelievably, the deputy's knuckles grew bone white as he regrettably looked to Iris, then back to the road. One shaky hand was used to wipe his forehead, showing his fresh cut of brunette hair, barbered to the correct length, barely any regrowth. “I, uh, no ma’am.” Curiosity started to spike in Iris. Her spine tingling with her inquisitive personality. “I normally work in the office. They pulled all of us out here to help. I do a lot of the filing and books. I’m good with numbers, not guns.”

“So then, you’re only taking me back for questioning? Then I can get going?”

“Oh, we need more than that. You’ll need to go to the hospital as well, you were in a roll over. And I’m sure you’ll have to stay for a trial, maybe.” The nametag on the kid read ‘Peters’ and careful eyes scrutinized the poor guy to the point he felt more uncomfortable than ever, causing his voice to be caught in the base of his throat. The Texan heat not the cause of his dry throat. “So, uhm, sounds like you’ve killed before?” 

An exultant feeling rushed through Iris’s veins, part of her wanting to stay reserved, but another so happy to talk about the things she’s gone through. Thinking about it she shook her head, her bloodied strands of blonde shaking into her face as she had done so. “I’ve killed many things since my childhood. My family are hunters. People or animals, it never mattered to them. It is now in my blood to do the same I suppose.”

The poor deputy nodded, but swallowed hard. Small talk was far from what could be described, but the closest. They sat in mostly silence, Peters occasionally coughing and then wiping his brows again. He looked to a smaller gas station up ahead only a few blocks away, “Mind if I stop to fill my water? Do you need anything either? Uhm, I’m not sure what all you can and can’t do.”

Iris shook her head, but intentionally started to fan herself, the sun from outside heating the small car. “No, Sir. I’m a’right.” Iris left more of a southern drawl on her words, blinking her eyes sweetly at him as she continued to fan herself. 

The naive deputy pulled up to the front of the building, his fingers reaching for the keys, but his eyes fell on Iris fanning herself more, now sitting in direct sunlight. “Say, since it’s warm I’ll keep this running. If anyone comes in to take it for a joy ride, you just do what you did back there. Maybe you’ll scare them off, too.” His smile was genuine, but fear still resided deep in his mind. He was for sure not going to sleep well that night. Leaving Iris in the vehicle was the most relief this man had gotten since the first call out to the area. His chest was free of the tightness, stress and anxiety causing his rationalization to most definitely become tarnished. His mind went places he didn’t recognize, and Peters hoped that a refreshing drink would help sober his mind up. 

Heading inside the shop, Peters tilted his hat to the lady behind the counter. She sat on a stool, at her feet a small child, no older than six, playing with carved wooden toys. A curt nod from the both of them ignored the use of words. Sounds of a small battle escaped the child’s lips, he was playing while rolling on the floor. Sounds of the store were as usual as they came, a small fan in the background ticking as it spun and a radio playing some soft music.

A few wanderers in the store nodded towards the deputy, one actually stopping to ask if he was alright. The sweat pooled on his forehead, with hands shaking as well, Peters dropped the items in his hand. The clang got everyone’s attention, enough so that Nobody watched the running car of the officer outside.

“Sir? Are you alright, son?” An elderly man watched the guy as he scrambled to pick up his things off of the floor, only to drop them once more.

“I, uhm, I, yeah, uh, sure…”

“I think he should sit down. Maybe the heat’s gettin’ to him.” Another woman in the store offered, her own mind thinking of ways to help.

“There’s just so much… Blood…”

Others were lost in thought of what to do for the poor anxiety stricken deputy. But one was not unsure of anything. Iris was quick to see others gather into the back of the store. Even the dusty windows gave her not much aide in seeing through, but she could see that nobody was watching her anymore. Her heart rate sped up enough, kicking in the adrenaline for courage to her muscles not wanting to move. Iris crawled over to the driver’s seat, looking around through every window to see if anyone would notice her change of seats. She took a moment to look up and down the road a couple of times, checking if anyone was on their way or not. In fear that any moment someone would come out of the small store, Iris shifted the gears from park to reverse, her foot on the brake for a moment, hesitantly waiting to pull away. After counting to ten, the surge of energy let loose, Iris stepped on the gas pedal and swiveled out of the parking spot enough to switch the vehicle into drive. She gave the building a last look in the rear view mirror, her eyes shifting back to the front and the road. The gas pedal could not have been more abused by anyone else, Iris was not letting anyone get ahold of her. She watched the speed climb in the small town, past the speed limit, then even doubling it. The gas tank was about half way empty, but she knew she had a couple of hours she could still drive the now stolen sheriff’s vehicle. Hitting gravel, Iris had to slow down. Her thoughts fought to catch up to her body’s ability to keep moving, and she thought of what to do strategy wise. She could head towards the east coast like she wanted, but then others would notice. They would follow the vehicle and know to look towards the east.

Whiteknuckling the steering wheel, Iris turned towards the west, cursing herself inwardly. On the back roads she drove for half an hour before anyone on the radio perked up. 

“If anyone can hear me right now, this is Sheriff Duvall, I regrettably have to ask anyone that is driving around to report if you have seen our vehicle, marked 096. Please call the office as soon as anyone notices it. We are unsure where the vehicle went, but it was northbound in flee of our county. If you happen to see the driver, do not engage in anything, she is believed to be armed and possibly dangerous. Please call us with any information or just stop by.”

Drivers that could hear the police scanner perked up, most of them hearing those words, knowing they heard the last hour of a show by the Bowens. Civilian radios went wild, truckers and others talking around to each other asking questions about the driver and the event that had just happened. A few people would tune their radios around, trying to pick up any signal of different chatter, hoping they would say they saw the woman. 

Hoping in the slightest to find such a not so delicate flower.

[insidiousintentions]

TCM: GITL 3

This is the first posting of a story on tumblr. I hope everything works out well. It is going to be for sure NSFW in some places. Absolutely 18+ You know the story and how the family works. Don’t be mad, we all know what you came here for to read. Don’t be upset because of something silly. It is not an x reader story, my brain can’t function that way, I’m sorry.

Let me know how it is... Please.. Q~Q

Part Three

Despite the incident happening in the back seat, Hank continued on driving well above the speed limit. Even the small change from the road to a small town, he disregarded it, making it home as fast as he could. “Alright gentlemen, dinner is on me at my place. You know where to visit.”

The radio cracked and a solid booming voice was overheard, “Bowen, you best better not have anyone in your truck besides you and your boys.”

“Nah, sheriff. That’ll be a 10-10, sir. After all, we jus’ headin’ on home. Wen’ and took them boys fishin’. We caught some nice, thick, meaty ones. I can share once we done cookin’ if you like.”

“I will not be tasting anything you’re offering unless you’re in cuffs and in the back of my squad car begging me for sanctuary. Hank Bowen, this is gotta be the end of it. Now, answer me. Do you have a woman in your vehicle?”

“No, Sir. I don’ see any ladies here.”

Catching everyone by surprise, Iris blurted out at the top of her lungs, “10-67, Code 2: 209, 261, Henry, Edward, Lincoln, Paul!” Iris made eye contact with Hank driving the truck, his jaw down past his knees in shock. “Hotel, Echo, Lima, Papa!”

Before Hank had a chance to release his hand from the record button, Junior had profanities flying out of his mouth as quickly as a punch had landed to Iris’s left eye. The voice rang through again from the radio, this time chatter in the background was heard, “Hank, that sounded like a woman if you ask me. Now, I’ll be heading towards your place and we can sort things out.”

“How abou’ dis? I come over and pay yer wife a visit. See what she thinks of a real man takin’ her to bed. Oh, I jus’ know she won’ be able to take ev’ry last inch of me. Now, get off our channel Howard.” Hank was redder than the inside of a watermelon, steam could’ve been rolling out from his ears. “Get a hold of that woman boy, or she gonna say hi to momma for us.”

More static graced the atmosphere of the truck, and  the sheriff spoke again. “That’s Sheriff Duvall to you, Hank. This isn’t some school thing anymore. I’m on my way after you right now. So let’s cut the crap and you turn yourself in.”

“Over my dead body! I’m not listenin’ to another damn thing ya have to say Howard.” In order to do that, Hank took a band and wrapped it around the button, fully recording the rest of anything happening in the truck. “Boy, fuckin’ punch her again. We’ll drive out till we die. Fuckin’ make me a grandkid or I’m not goin’ home. The only way I’m goin’ anywhere wit a cop is if I’m dead! So, fuck you.”

“As you wish…” In the shooken states of the two boys, and the space where Hank couldn’t stop Iris, she had reached to her boot that was hidden away by Hank pulling out a bone carved blade. There were no solid words from her besides a yell. Along with the yell were Hank junior’s screams in pain.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” He recoiled, his body being released from any contact with her, now sobbing, the man looked up to Iris, her eyes glaring and her face seething with pure rage. “You jus’ cut my fucking dick off!” His own face soured, but turned into terror when Iris flipped rolls, now positioning her bloodied thighs over top of Junior. 

Leaning into him, she pressed the blade to his temple, “I’ll make you just as pretty as me then. Not only will you ever fuck a bitch again, you’ll never show your face again!” The ongoing listeners were astounded at the events happening. None of them expected anything like this to be heard over their radios, but nonetheless they continued to listen on in. Again, the older sheriff listening took to showcasing a smile as he drove now closer to the north taking back roads to cross county lines. Screams from Junior froze Preston in his seat, his eyes scarred from the sight of his brother’s bloodied mess of a crotch. Iris caught her breath, and before she could think of anything else, a twisted thought ran through her mind. The idea of it amusing her enough to do such a thing regardless. “Eat this.” With pulling what remains of the man’s cock from within her body, Iris used her blade to pry open Junior’s mouth, his sobs begging and pleading for her to stop. His pleas fell on deaf ears, as Iris shoved the entire length down into Junior’s throat finally after the third punch to the jagged cut off end. 

Hank tried to cough, soon enough his face turned shades of a sunset as he was gagging and choking on his own dick. Looking over to Preston, the boy had already opened the door, fight or flight response lending him aid to escape the driving vehicle. The boy’s body caused a plume of smoke to erupt where he landed. The driver of the truck looked over to see his son flee, his own worried state now startling him enough to look over towards Iris and his son. Seeing the blood staining his back seat, the man’s fatherly instincts found its way into his horrible being enough to try and protect his son, despite it being too late. The crying mess of a son in the back seat was shrouded by Iris as she carved lines into his skin down to his chest. Being so distracted by her work, Iris didn’t stand a chance as her golden blonde locks were pulled taut. Hank used all his force, yanking the now attacker into the front and away from his choking son. Whatever he thought he could do changed once the nimble body of Iris crawled through to the middle seat of the truck gaining footing enough to hold herself firm, reaching for a seat belt as quickly as she could and wrapped her lower body inside of the piece. The scream coming from Iris as Hank pulled on her hair once again startled listeners from all around. 

With dagger in hand, sharpness matching Iris’s eyes and her few teeth, she smiled, showcasing them to the man. “You’re a fuckin’ monster!”

“We’re in Texas dumbass. Mess with the horns and you get the Devil.” Within a lightning strike of time, Iris had bit into the man’s shoulder, a scream that made some listeners sick as he hollered. Once again the sheriff listening in on the mess, cruising on into the county smiled. His cold eyes shifted towards his radio and a snicker escaped. His mind liked the screams of the guy. It excited him if not aroused him. 

Another scream and a wail came from Hank. His flailing knocked the pick up from drive to neutral, forcing them to slow down enough to not be driving as erratically as they once were. Crying was heard, this time begging as well as his son had done before. Hank cried out for help, pleading for someone to save him before screaming, agony making the man even pass out as Iris carved into his face as well. 

Before anything could happen, Iris tucked herself into the leg space of the passenger seat, hanging onto her things and the Model 94 rifle from the dash. Iris had seen that ahead on the road, at the county line sat a row of squad cars. With the portly man driving in the way of finding the break, Iris instead braced for impact. Her mind slipped into other thoughts of what was going to happen when they found her.

A fit of coughing brought her back to her senses, she looked up to see Hank with his head leaning over top of her. Instead his son Junior had dislodged his own dick from his mouth and began coughing for air. The burn in his eyes and throat made his voice harsh to use, but he managed enough to yell at his father to watch out. Now being startled, Hank sat up, his head hurting and confused as he saw the police before him. With only time to slam on the breaks, forty yards before the vehicles lay a line of spikes to pop his tires. As the truck kept on down the road, the spikes did indeed find their target, popping both of the passenger side tires as he passed over. The motion of this caused the truck to lurch to the side and roll over twice before landing upside down. People started to surround the crumpled up metal. 

Hank lay hollering out in pain, his body smashed onto his upper, leaving him without much room to move around unlike the leaner frame of Iris. She kicked her bags out of the window, took the rifle and what she found of ammo in the glove box after shimmying herself out of the passenger side. 

“Ma’am? Ma’am lay down the weapon, and we are going to help you.”

Letting out an exasperated scream, rocked herself on her knees a moment putting her things in order and to the side. Looking up towards the sky for one last time, tears made their way down her cheeks, taking dirt with them as they trailed down her face. Iris laid down on her stomach, holding her hands up and over her head before she was even asked to do so. Officers saw her actions and immediately started to help her to her feet, a couple of them bringing her items along with them when they started to guide her towards the vehicles they had waiting and ready for the perpetrators. 

An officer kelt down as Iris sat in the back seat of his vehicle, “Miss, you don’t have to say anything right now. You’re probably in shock. We are going to get you to town and get you some medical attention. Do you have anything else in the pick up?” 

Iris shook her head, her eyes never leaving the ground. In her boot kept the dagger, still bloodied, but not going to be noticed by the authorities. The mess along her body scared many onlookers, more for the thought of what had happened than her well-being. A few people would go up to her, offer assistance and words of advice and encouragement, “You were so brave,” “That was a complete mess you survived,” “You were so strong,” “I can’t believe you made it out of there,” “Maybe you shouldn’t hitchhike like that again.”

Frozen, the deadpan stare of Iris met the eyes to stoic men, only for their tails to retreat, “I wasn’t hitchhiking. They kidnapped me. I don’t own a vehicle, so I walk. I’m not looking for favors or sympathy. If I did that, then my family would roll in their graves.”

Shortly after the deputy’s apology, the sheriff, older, middle-aged man, the same voice from the radio earlier, “Miss, I’m Sheriff Howard Duvall. I’ll have one of my deputies here take you in town. I’ll have to question you and make sure a lady as yourself is in a sound of mind before I let you go anywhere. The scene in that truck looks rather, erm, gruesome. To say the least I suppose. But, I am quite curious how you know those codes? And civilian and military alphabets.”

“It get easy when that’s all you learned growing up. Either helping pa with… Certain duties, or granpa out at the jail. Be it cleaning the floors or guns. Hell, I would pick up calls and tell them where to go when I was just ten.” The straightening of her chest and shoulders took the others by surprise, as Iris stood up straighter, her smaller looking body was not that. Standing five foot seven, she carried herself as if she were a force to be reckoned with, and that she was. Her eyes darted to a squad car pulling up, people rushing to help the broken armed boy, his wails in pain only making Iris’s nostril’s flare. 

The sheriff watched as the younger of the brothers nearly screamed like a girl seeing Iris. Everyone watched as the man kicked and flailed his one good arm, wincing when his other arm dangled. Fear was driven through his bones more than a nail could ever hope to damage. He tried to run away upon seeing her, only to be caught and ushered into a different vehicle. Nobody cared to listen to his rambles, begging for safety as Iris only let out a small smile shortly before licking her teeth at him. Her canines were more pronounced along with the next tooth towards the center also looking to be her canine. Her sharpened teeth were made on purpose, they helped her tear into meat she would cook on the side of the road, such a simple thing that would scare anyone face to face with her. 

“Kill her! She’s the real monster here! Kill that bitch!”

They called her a monster, and that she became.

[insidiousintentions]

TCM: GITL 2

This is the first posting of a story on tumblr. I hope everything works out well. It is going to be for sure NSFW in some places. Absolutely 18+ You know the story and how the family works. Don’t be mad, we all know what you came here for to read. Don’t be upset because of something silly. It is not an x reader story, my brain can’t function that way, I’m sorry.

Let me know how it is... Please.. Q~Q

Part Two

The speeding green monster cruised down the road strip without any problems by any passerbys. A few times they would near an intersection did Hank senior slow, but not by much. 

Iris refused to make any noise, her wanted moans from the boys went on to annoy them. Preston kept a firm hold on both arms of their hostage while his older brother slobbered his tongue all over the left side of Iris’s face and neck. There was no pleasure, only anger riling up Iris keeping her body far from relaxing in the midst of the boys’ cackling. She refused to give into the thought of liking it and began fighting back more, making sure to take longer for Hank to enjoy himself. 

The sound of the belt buckle then the zipper made Iris tense up. Once again, she kept her mind solid thinking of something she could do to get out of her predicament. Then it hit her, she needed to do something in order to get a hand free and grab her dagger inside of her boot. The boys never checked for her to have a knife, nor would they while their eyes stayed glued to her body, not her clothing. 

Iris could see outside the window, they were passing a semi, and the radio crackled into the truck, “Hank? Find yerself a lively one, huh?”

“Of course. How’s the wife Ray?” The driver snickered, adjusting the radio onto the dash now so he can communicate more easily but letting go of Iris’s leg for a moment too long. She took that open chance, the saving grace she needed before Junior found her sensitive hole to sheath himself into. Iris kicked Hank in the face, a solid heel to his nose, for sure breaking it as the blood poured onto her body. Even more enraged, Hank senior grabbed the leg of Iris once again, holding her more firmly, pulling her leg over into the passenger seat, “Boy, you better straighten that whore ou’!”

“Sounds like you have ya hands full. But Molly is doing jus’ fine. She’s gonna have our fifth soon. Found that out las’ month.” The trucker drove a bit slower letting Hank pass more easily around him, his eyes peering through his window to get a good look at Iris as Junior pulled away for a minute. “She looks mighty fine. Care to stop up ahead and let lil ol’ me take her for a spin?”

“Pa, you tell him absolutely not. I’m gonna be fuckin’ this whore like its my last. Ain’t nobo’y gonna touch my bitch unless I say so!” Hank junior grunted using Iris’s dress to wipe his face off for a moment, his eyes blazing mad, but not as much as Iris. His harsh grip found purchase at her hips, pulling her towards him enough and onto her back moreso. She had no leverage to fight back as smoothly as she wished still. The only thing she had left was her cage of a mind, hiding inside of it to ignore everything else around her. She didn’t notice anything but the small twinge of pain as Hank made his way inside of her. He tried his best to get her to mold to his form, only using his saliva and spitting on her privates for lube if any was used at all. 

Preston watched in awe as his brother took Iris’s body as his own, occasionally copping a feel of her breasts bouncing in the vehicle. Iris paid them no mind, her eyes lost out the back window, catching the glimpse of the truck driver they passed. A small tilt of his cap and a smile was all she had for comfort. Nobody was going to help her, but herself. 

“Fuckin’ hold up her dress you idiot!” Eager to see more, Hank took no time to expose Iris’s full body, laid out and exposed for the three and any passersby on the road. Preston took no time to hike the dress up, using it in a way now to twist and hold the fighting arms of Iris with one hand making it easier for him to grope her breasts more. Hank let out a snicker, fighting himself to rut deeper into Iris had panned out beautifully as he was able to get enough lubrication to pick up speed. “Lookie, she’s likin’ it, Pa. Gimme another five minutes an’ she’ll be singin’ from the rooftop of how great I am.”

Iris rolled her eyes, internally her body was weeping from the lack of pure pleasure, the thought that she was undeserving of it overwhelming her whole being. Behind her, close to her hands, she could fully feel the younger brother’s manhood twitching as he watched Iris and his brother. The pornographic noises mostly came from Hank, but also from the flesh between the two connecting as Hank continued his pistoning. An idea crossed Iris’s mind, she thought the best she could do is at least try it out. 

And with that thought, Iris had managed to wiggle her arm enough to grab ahold of Preston’s own jealous appendage. His whole youthful body tensed, something he wasn’t expecting at the most, but he kept quiet. The vocals coming from his brother shadowed his own soft moans as Iris found her way to grip him outside of his pants. Their father cackled, hearing a few trucks drive by whooping or honking as his boy in the back took claim to their new find. Their radio buzzed with hungry men asking for a slice of pie, a trip to skinville, a ride on the roller coaster, a taste of what he’s cooking. All of their words goating on the eldest of Hank’s boys. Junior snickered, the blood dripping from his face every now and then staining the browned dress or Iris’s skin red. Slick with sweat, having sex inside the back of a truck while in Texas was never the best idea to share something so intimate, but to them there was nothing intimate about the act. It was by far that. 

A decent ways away, the sheriff from before listened to the crackled sounds of truckers talking on the radio. All of them chuckling about the new meat Hank’s boys got. It was the similar calls he’s heard of people passing through, something he would listen for all the time. The Bowen clan liked to find women for themselves. If it was a woman they liked too much, she stayed home taking care of the things in certain rooms that they were allowed to. Mostly they stayed tied to rooms for guests to come buy and ‘pay’ a visit to. The sheriff gave a smile, thinking he might visit the Bowen farmstead for a night. It was only two hours away, a nice time away from the family. Smelling the underwear once again, the sheriff spit out of his window to the dry soil and turned back to find his spot behind the sign. His afternoon was wasted as he sat listening to the scanner go off every now and then of people chatting. When he heard Hank senior talking, the smug chuckle in his voice was mixed with his son’s grunts and moans. It made him reach down every now and then, forced to adjust himself. The sounds alone made the older man all bothered, wishing he was the young buck with the lady friend instead. 

Some of the men were asking to listen in on the action, so Hank senior kept the radio recording. Only stopping it when he heard someone trying to talk through from the other side.

Inside the truck, Iris’s hands work her way to the younger brother's manhood, stroking him gently still and thus causing him to relax enough. In his bliss, Preston wasn’t paying attention to holding onto Iris any more. In the crook of her neck, Preston let out a loud moan. His brother looked up and snickered, “Pa. She’s a lively one. Takin’ a liking to Pres here, too! She still ain’t pretty looking with her busted up face, but damn, this is one tight som’a’bitch.” Junior’s words were spaced out between grunts and thrusts, his eyes never moving from where he was connected to Iris. “She’s gonna give you lots of grandkids, Pa. I jus’ know it. And after she’s carrying my boys, we can sure visit the watering hole. Maybe the guys wanna taste?”

Iris grew more erratic, trying her hardest to kick away Junior from over top of her. All she could manage was to get her foot lodged to the ceiling. With her boot planted firmly, Junior pressed Iris down deeper, plummeting himself as much as he could, filling her to the point that Iris felt her stomach start to twist. With furrowed brows, the woman in the worst case scenario than she wanted felt her skin flush over, and her grip hardened around Preston’s own member. The younger brother started to moan more loudly, his other hand removing itself from holding back Iris as he made sure to pull his erect penis from his pants, quickly managing to put it into Iris’s hand. 

Iris felt herself becoming dizzy, her mind elsewhere but her body being driven over the limit she could physically function on. Still recording, Hank senior started cackling, his deep rumble barely heard over the slapping noise of the bodies behind him. Junior, too, began to laugh. His speed increasing, words falling from his mouth to match each thrust listing all sorts of profanities at Iris, “Pa! You better get ready to lis’en to this one. I think she’s gonna blow! Poor Preston over here’s gettin’ a handy I reckon.” The smile beaming off of Preston let Junior know for sure. His brother wasn’t going to last much longer with how new he was to being able to touch the women. This was going to be a great bride for the farm. “Lis’en up boys!”

Everyone listening knew it was coming, quite literally was coming. Iris had refused to make much of a noise the whole time, with her new found stuck position, her insides betrayed her stoic mind. Instead all of the lewd noises coming from their bodies together proved something erotic she wished she couldn’t hear. The awful grunt came deep from within her chest, Iris pinched her eyes shut, not wanting to see the face above her, with his obscenities. The arch in her back, lifting herself up was not intentional, and her body caved into reflexes of pleasure despite her anger. Failing to control herself, Iris let out a groan, parts in her vision blurring over as her climax rushed through her body. The boys laughed in the truck, people they passed honked and all time shifted past the moment leaving Iris in a daze she hated to feel. She felt so weak beneath the men, unable to do anything but succumb to their wishes. Hank junior kept on pistoning himself, only his thrusts became more sloppy after her orgasm. With a few final grunts, Iris’s eyes grew wide for a moment and she shut them, accepting her fate and hoping that whoever was watching over her would frown upon this moment and steer her clear of what was to come from this moment. A loud moan erupted from her vocal chords only for the pain and confusion to start setting in. Opening her eyes was forced upon her, the squeezing around her throat so tightly caused her body pain in every fiber of her being begging for the release to inhale the stale air around her. 

Junior began to laugh, his eyes wild as he kept choking Iris causing her body to flail around more than she expected herself to do. As she fought more, and her body growing too tired to keep up, Hank junior leaned down into her face, his eyes meeting hers as the painful tears started to escape her eyes. Her body suffocating so much it made the man ecstatic. “Take my cum bitch.” A final thrust, Junior unloaded himself into his victim, grunting himself into her abused body with a grin on his face. “And I’ll be staying righ’ here like this. Filling ya’ up ev’ry damn night, too.”

The men chuckled, Preston in his own state of bliss as he had already climaxed if not twice already on the backside of Iris, his flaccid cock resting against the sticky bare skin of Iris. Hank said one last call to the men listening before saying he was ending his recording. The fish he caught was ready to be taken home so they can start getting it ready. 

Most of the men listening would chime in their thoughts and desire to see their catch of the day. Even the lone sheriff, sniffing his new found underwear with one hand and his other in his pants, chimed in thanking the Bowens for the radio show. A show that would be declared the last of their own.

[insidiousintentions]

TCM: GITL 1

 This is the first posting of a story on tumblr. I hope everything works out well. It is going to be for sure NSFW in some places. Absolutely 18+ You know the story and how the family works. Don’t be mad, we all know what you came here for to read. Don’t be upset because of something silly. It is not an x reader story, my brain can’t function that way, I’m sorry.

Let me know how it is... Please.. Q~Q

Part One

With the scorching heat, nobody wanted to be out wandering around the open and barren back roads of the south; especially when it came to Texas. The sun’s rays dried most of the west’s land up where it didn’t have enough shade to remain cool during the dead middle of summer. The air itself dried up the lungs of anyone not acclimated to the harsh heat. Even the uneven ground posed a threat to the best of shoes if someone walked miles on end along the dirt roads. That’s exactly what the drivers during the day thought was odd to see someone backpacking along any open road in such conditions. Occasionally truck drivers would slow down and stop to question the figure only to get a small nod and smile before they would take the young lady to the nearest gas station or pit stop. Each driver never expected the woman to stay at the place or start walking off again in the midst of the heat and dust in the air kicked up by the passing vehicle’s disappearance. In these days people were used to picking up hitchhikers, but as of late, few and few more have been taking people off of the long stretches of mixed broken asphalt and gravel.  People have been hearing news of a new hunter lurking on the roads. Word of this hitchhiker has worried locals in their own small towns, and they grew more worried about it all. Seeing someone along the road walking caused passer-bys to judge carefully before their stopping. Seeing a smaller frame and the upper face of a woman, people would stop more frequently, for they all declared the wanderer to be a man from the crude way crime scenes were looking to be afterwards when actually found. Drivers’ cars would be off in the ditch found rummaged through as if they were run off the road and robbed, but yards away would be the body of the driver. They had their wallets and any identification still intact, but they would be free of any certain means of money or weapons, if they were known to be there at all.  The outcome of the drivers were never for the faint of hearts. Or stomachs. Usually by the time anyone had found the victim, the birds or other game had found the unsuspecting driver first. Circling birds in the sky was a sure signal to passerys on their route to and from home or work. Many open cases have been left alone as nobody could fathom the idea of these types of murders, or robberies going wrong. Instead of a solid stab or gunshot wound, the mess of a living person was not something any officer wanted to discover in their lifespan. It came with the career, but nobody ever expected to come across a murder scene, or several. The wounds of what remained of the bodies found were that of extreme blunt force trauma to the face and any bone imaginable. If it weren’t for looking more into some bodies, clear indentations to the bodies showcased a hack job that looked as if a lumberjack had taken a swing to a wood log.  Men walking the roads became feared in the few years to come by, but nobody paid attention to the backpacker with a pot and pan dangling from the duffel bag below the backpack. The dusty, once floral looking dress filled with grime would blow in the wind, picking up every now and then showcasing the sun tanned skin of the woman’s legs peeking above the brown leather cowgirl boots that were coated in layers of mud, dirt, and grime. Her arms were not exposed, as a seasoned veteran of living in Texas, the woman knew walking in the daylight was not something to do without covering skin. The jean jacket she wore had seen better days itself; looking more like a brown jacket with faded light blues peeking through. Everything else that the woman wore had a layer of dirt on it hiding the colors behind a layer of brown, dulling everything she wore. In her bag she carried only a set of clothing for working anything laboring with wrangler jeans and a now faded, light colored plaid shirt with a white tank top to wear beneath, and a shorter dress that hugged her growing curves well enough to pick up any driver on the road with. It was a burgundy dress with lighter pink flowers and yellow centers. The colors were definitely faded, but they still stood out more than the other clothes she wore. The low cut at the neck and the thighs gave it a sense of innocence enough that she could get free food or drinks at some places, be it by others buying, or her own sticky fingers stealing. The only thing she was missing would’ve been her white hat stolen weeks ago by a group of guys trying to pick her up. They teased, the driver going at a slow enough pace to keep up to her walking as another guy hopped off of the truck’s bed to walk along with her. The third guy in the cab leaned out the window, his hungry eyes following the sway of her hips as she paced herself.  The green truck’s driver held the biggest beard and following belly, he chuckled along with the two teasing the woman, his tongue licking the crusty chapped flesh he called lips. He looked older, much older than the two, called the one walking alongside the truck, a thinner and more athletic version of himself, Hank. To which Hank called the even younger looking boy without much facial hair, Preston.  Looking over the rust bucket, the dirt covering the lower body meant they probably lived farther out a distance with not many people coming to see them. She could’ve been taken away and never seen again by anyone. The thought of what would happen next almost repulsed the woman so much that her pace quickened. It was the wrong move, as the boys kept up real easily with her.  “Why don’ ya let me carry ‘em things for ya? We can give ya a lift. How ‘bout that?” Hank behind the woman ran his fingers along his jawline, combing the untamed beard he had, the grin sprouting from watching the woman’s hips sway. Within the truck came a chuckle, the father starting to angle his driving towards the two on the road, forcing them to take the less comfortable and uneven ground to walk upon. “Come on then. We’ll get ya somewhere nice and cozy.” To protect the woman from the sun’s harsh ways, she kept her almost matching tanned scarf to her dress wrapped around her head and her face, for the wind kicking up dust was not something she wanted to inhale so often. The white, now dusted tan, hat was something from her father, and it was something she held dearly out of anything sentimental in her bags of items.  “Hey! Wha’s your name anyways?” The boy smiling out from the window made the head tilt of the woman, her eyes looking up from the road ahead to Preston.  She mulled the idea of telling her name or nickname, either way they wouldn’t get to know much of her. A smile pulled itself from her lips, hidden beneath the scarf, “The name’s Iris. Like the Greek Goddess who brings unwanted souls to the underworld.” Might as well amuse herself before she had to keep on going. “I’d say more like the flow’r. An’ what a delicate flow’r you sure are.” The father in the driver’s seat adjusted his cap and kept his eye at his mirrors to watch Iris instead of the road.  Without thinking, Iris held up her hand flipping off the guys and continued walking down the path less taken into the vast open land filled with smaller bushes and rocks. She had no idea how it would actually pan out, but she hoped for the best. It was what she always did even before. In the seconds it took her to do that, Hank had made his move. He grabbed a hold of the woman’s waist and spun her around to the now open door of the truck. Iris was stuck in the back between both of the brothers. In the hassle of moving her into the back, her hat landed on the dried up soil. It left the reminder that someone was here, but never to be seen again. Her eyes wandered to both of the boys then to the man adjusting his mirror as he sped off. The hungry look in his eyes made Iris cringe and her blood boil. “Go on, scream if ya want. It isn’t gonna help you hunny.”  They were like all the rest of the men around here. Greedy slobs who want one thing, sex. Iris took to memorizing her new surroundings. Each of the two boys had at least a gun and a knife on them. Up on the dash sat a fresh oiled rifle. The driver saw her looking at it and gave a big grin, “Ya’ like guns? Or just big, long, hard, blasting power rifles?”  The younger boy, Preston stared at her, his eyes never leaving her thighs unless it was to follow the bouncing mounds atop her chest with every decent bump they drove over. Hank kept an arm around the back of Iris’s seat. Her bags were carelessly in the front seat, out of a stealthy reach regardless. “It’s a Winchester.” All three boys looked at the smaller framed Iris, malnourished for the time being, but still on the taller side. “Well, ya’ picked ‘erself a smart one, Junior. A’right, what model is it then, sweetheart?” The driver kept his smile going, but his hand rested along his thigh, just barely carressing the inside of his jeans. Before Iris could answer, his hand reached back and found her knee, “Ya’ get ‘er right and we might go easy on that tender skin of yours.” “It looks like a model 94. My grandfather had the same thing, only adjusted to fit his role. The end was shorter and had a bayonet lug. Perks of being a sheriff’s granddaughter. You see and use a lot of guns.” Iris watched for the men to flinch. Even Hank seemed to sink into her shoulder, closing in on her face. Their father’s hand stayed firm, he was amused by Iris in the fact that she hadn’t flinched any moment he laid a hand on her, so he pressed on. “Really smart gal. But walkin’ alone down this stretch ain’t good for nobo’y but us. Now, we better be fixin’s for a weddin’.”  “Yeah, a weddin’ Pa. Think she’ll fit the dress?”  “It migh’ be a bit tight at the bust, she looks bigger than you boy’s momma. Hank Junior, you better treat her special a’right.” Evidently, Hank senior got the drift of the fact that Iris wasn’t going to fight back still and let his fingers lift the dress up from over her knee exposing more of her tanned skin.  Keeping her eyes forward, Iris paid it no mind. Their greedy touching was not going to bother her as much as her thoughts were. She was planning her escape the best she could while being distracted by the three pesky flies. Hank watched his father’s hand crawl up a bit higher, a small rage erupting within his throat, “Pa! You done already killed your wife. Get your grubby hands off of mine! I will not be sharin’ ‘er with the likes of you old man. I will be ‘aving ‘er give you grandchildren, not my brothers or sisters.” “Hank? Will you share ‘er with me? You know I ’ave became a man recently and I think I deserve to,” Preston looked up then shied away as his older brother sent a glare. The younger sibling kept his hands to himself the whole time, just his eyes kept wandering.  “Oh, a’right. I don’t see a problem with letting you taste.” The smile on the younger boy’s face was that of a child given the keys to a candy shop. Iris rolled her eyes at the thought of being more like a prize than a person. That’s all females are nowadays she thought to herself. “But, yer not sliding into my bed with ‘er until af’er she’s carrying my sons. Ain’t that right, my sweet flow’r?”  Cold eyes of copper brown could’ve looked more like the gates of hell from Iris’s glare. She looked back straight ahead, biting her tongue to keep quiet. Iris saw the car’s direction they were heading, she grumbled at the thought of backtracking instead of heading east towards the coast like she was wanting. The water was going to be her last escape. Something she and her family were going to visit ten years ago before the accident. “Where is your farmstead?” “Oh? You wanna know abou’ yer new home so soon?” The father tilted his hat and watched the road, driving faster than needed.  “I’d like to know what you idiots think you’ll be doing going north. There’s not many towns left around here that thrive enough in this economy.” “Yer not some damned hippie are ya, hun? Our economy is jus’ fine. We hunt and we eat and we fin’ pretty women like yerself to have in our beds.” “No, I just went to school. Unlike the likes of you folk. My home town is over an hour away from this area, south.”  “Well, your new home will be farther north. We just gotta get ourselves out of cousin fucking counties. Damned people here have no respect for us finer folk’s looks.” A hand traveled from Iris’s knee up her thighs and to her hips where it lingered just a bit longer than she wanted. Hank’s eyes lusted over the woman, causing her skin to prickle in anger at his unwanted touches. Soon even his hand made its way to cup around her breast making Iris bite her cheek looking away and up to the ceiling of the pickup. An angered scoff came from the woman’s mouth, but Hank paid it no mind. He kept on feeling up his new found wife. “How abou’ we see wha’s hiding under this scarf?” Iris’s body jolted away, leaning her weight into Preston enough that he enjoyed it far rather too much than needed. “Fuck you,” Iris spat at Preston and Hank as now both of them had hands and minds full of avidity to see what was under the cover. Hank smiled, turning in the cab to face Iris, her chest heaving wanting to strike at the man. The two in the back teamed up, both wanting the show, but Hank rather eager for his taste buds to explode over her skin. He struggled with her legs, they kicked wildly at him only until she was caught. Eyes wide, Iris looked to the driver now, his one arm had wrapped around the small of her knee, keeping her still. In the small moment of shock, Hank found his chance and pulled up the toned right leg of Iris and slumped it over his bent thigh and around his waist. She watched in horror as they were more quick with their actions than she anticipated. She had no way of fighting them single handedly, they were fully alert and oriented. From the back she had no easy way to grab the wheel now and cause an accident or roll over.   Preston’s fingers found their way into the copper blonde locks of Iris, they swiped away the strands that covered her face in particular places. “Well, she ain’t the prettiest face, but her body will carry well. Pa, you got anything to cover her face with?” “Wha’swrong wit ‘er? She seems sturdy enough to me. Jus’ take ‘er boy.” “She looks like that one guy a few towns over. You sure have an ugly face, woman.” Hank reached forward, his hand grazing the scars of Iris’s forehead and along towards her ear. Another of his fingers followed down her nose and towards her other scar just below her nose from one lip down to the other. It held an odd shape and scared over in a terrible manner. Hank pinched the jaw of his bride and tilted her head to look out the windshield, “Are you diseased?” With more curiosity forcing his body to keep checking, Hank saw that there were red blotches from the right side of her cheek and traveling down in a splotchy mess of red marks. Courage to touch her skin regardless made the boy smile, “It’s smooth. No diseases here.” “Well, check down low to be sure. Try ‘er out son.” The two boys in the back got a bit overzealous, their hands finding fistfuls of skin to pull on and prod around. The boys held their new toy as tight as they could, muscles competing against each other. Despite being a female, Iris kept giving the two a run for their money, even their father struggled to hold onto her one leg while driving. This was starting to become more difficult, and driving the truck proved to be something of a mess. Passing a strip of road with a welcome sign, the truck paid no mind to the white sheriff’s car following it. The rather erratic driving caught the attention of the officer, along with the speeding thirty above the speed limit.  Hank whooped and hollered after removing Iris’s undergarments with his knife from his belt. The cut strip of fabric was out of the window quicker than it had been cut free from her body. Throughout the whole time Iris hadn’t let out a scream. Only small grunts here and there as she fought back. The officer slowed down his vehicle and stopped to pick up the littered laundry. His eyes lit up, and the smirk that followed was sinister. Lifting up the garment to his face, the older sheriff took a long inhale of the feminine scent only to nod at the vehicle driving off as a way to say thank you. On his way back to his squad patrol car, the older gentleman took off his hat and another deep inhale of the random ladies underwear.

[insidiousintentions]

Girl In The Loft

I’m currently writing on this and I’m gonna try and make it easier with a list of the chapters hopefully!

I’ll be adding to this when I can. Thank you!

One

Two

Three

Four

Five