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He's Like The Wind	By : LordKuyohashi Category: +S through Z > Simpsons Views: 6290 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Simpsons, or any related characters, and neither accept nor receive any monetary or compensatory reward for this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Jessica Lovejoy skipped happily down the sidewalk that sunny autumn morning, humming sweetly to herself. The air was cool and crisp and only faintly tainted by the acrid black smoke coming up from the Springfield tire fire across town; golden leaves crunched under her feet as she danced by, some swirling in the soft morning wind. Far above, a flock of geese flew overhead in a reverse-v formation, heading in the wrong direction because the local cell phone towers was fucking with their navigation senses. In other words, another golden, glorious day in Springfield. Especially for sweet, young, borderline sociopathic Jessica.
Because today, Jessica had a purpose.
She cocked an eyebrow when the distinctive pink panelling of the Simpson house came into view. She had so many questions about the mentality of people who would build a pink house, and of the people who would choose to live in a pink house, but those would have to wait. Butterflies tugged at her stomach, leading her up the sidewalk to the front door. A thousand scenarios played out in her mind, and she found herself rehearsing what she would say.
Hi, Lisa. It’s so funny, but I had this weird dream about you, and now I want to be your dog! Isn’t that weird?
Nope, not that one.
Oh hey, Lisa! Funny seeing you here…at your house…where you live. Anyway, do you happen to be in need of a devoted slave? ‘Cause I totally know someone who would be awesome at the job!
Ugh, get it together, girl.
Yeah, so, I was just wandering around, doing whatever, and I thought, hey, why not hang out with Lisa Simpson? She’s always been cool. So, like, here I am…can I be your footstool?
That one. That was the winner, totally.
Jessica cleared her throat, checked to make sure her sundress was straight and clean, and drew her hair back behind her ear. God, she was nervous. With a deep, cleansing breath, she cleared her head, and raised her fist to knock on the door to the Simpson house.
As Jessica had been walking down the sidewalk to their front door, Bart and Lisa had been in the upstairs bathroom, washing the blood out of their hair. They had decided to take turns at the tub, mostly so they could watch each other’s asses as they bent over into the water. And right now, bart was enjoying watching his sister’s ass bob and bounce from side to side as she held her head underwater, rinsing the black blood from her blonde hair. Her pussy was on full display, taunting Bart, enticing him, filling his vision and his thoughts until he, smirking, rose up from his seat on the counter, let the towel around his wet hair fall to the floor, and and knelt behind Lisa, burying his face in her swinging ass. Lisa flinched at his touch, jolting up out of the water with a gasp!
“Bart! What the hell!” Her tone changed completely the second Bart’s long, pointed devil’s tongue touched her greedy slit, pressed against her aching clit, and slipped inside her virgin ass. With a hungry moan, she shook her ass against her brother, pressing back into him.
“Nnnno, Bart, not there. That’s my ass. You have to work my pussy!”
Bart drew back, withdrawing his serpentine tongue, then curved it downward towards Lisa’s cunny, teasing her slick lips, threatening to push inside.
“God….Bart, fffffffuck…don’t tease me, my pussy’s still sore from earlier.”
Bart grinned to himself, and stood up, leaning over his prone sister and pushing his raging hard cock against her wet mound. “So you’re saying you don’t want this fat cock knocking your eggs loose then, Lees?”
A shiver shot up Lisa’s spine, and her eyes went wide with hunger, a hint of her old insanity returning. “Oh yes, Bart, fuck how sore my pussy is, just stick that cock in me and drown my womb! Give me your hot load and make a fucking baby in me!”
With a soft, dark chuckle, Bart lifted himself up, lining his cockhead up with Lisa’s opening. Lisa heard herself let out a light laugh, and prepared to be split in two by her brother’s monster cock, her stomach doing backflips at the prospect, her slit weeping in anticipation.
And just as he was about to cleave her cunt in twain, a bucket of metaphorical cold water doused the flames of their passion.
“Lisa! You have a guest!”
Marge’s voice at the foot of the stairs made Bart freeze, which made Lisa freeze.
“Lisa, did you hear me?”
“I’m in the bathroom, Mom!” God, please let her get that cockload of babybatter, she fucking needed this.
“Well hurry up!”
Lisa grumbled as Bart rubbed himself against her opening, torturing her with his hardness.
“Ffffuck, Bart, how soon can you dump a load in me?”
Bart sighed. “You already pretty much drained my balls earlier, Lees. My reserves are pretty low, so it might take a while.”
“Lisa!” Marge was becoming annoyed. Apparently she really needed to be away from their guest, which pared down who it might be; there weren’t many people Marge couldn’t stand to be around - Moe, her old high school friends, and that was about it.
Lisa stood up, pushing Bart away from her starving cunt. “Ugh!” she grunted in subtle anger. “Fucking clam jammer bullshit! I swear to fuck, Bart, if it’s fucking Milhouse, I’m eating him!”
“If it is Milhouse,” Bart’s tone was dark and bitter, “you fucking run.”
Lisa was stunned by Bart’s sudden turn to seriousness, only to be re-annoyed all over again by her mother’s impatient calling. “Lisa, down here, now!”
“Fine! I’m coming!” She grumbled as she wrapped a towel around her head and pulled her bathrobe over her shoulders. “Just not the way I wanted to, fucking hell.” she added quietly.
Lisa groused the entire way down the hall and down the stairs. She was certain it was Milhouse coming to annoy her again, and with that idea in mind, she played out how she would kill him over and over. Of course, she could just drain him dry and bury him in the woods, never to be seen again. She wondered if she was as strong as movie vampires seemed to be, if she could snap his neck or tear out his heart or spine or any other such thing she was certain she had seen in one of Bart’s video games.
When she saw Jessica beaming an almost obnoxious grin at the bottom of the stairs, she stopped in her tracks. She didn’t like Jessica Lovejoy. Bart didn’t like Jessica Lovejoy. Lisa was fairly certain that Jessica Lovejoy’s parents didn’t like Jessica Lovejoy, given how their reputation had suffered when it was revealed they had a daughter who was a kleptomaniacal sociopath - or a sociopathic kleptomaniac, Lisa wasn’t sure which applied. They were not friends, to put it lightly.
In fact, the best way one could use to describe Lisa’s opinion of Jessica was, “needs salt.”
Lisa climbed down the stairs, careful not to reveal that she was nude and dripping wet with aborted arousal under her terry cloth robe. Jessica’s eyes lit up upon seeing Lisa, a wide grin on her lips.
“Lisa! Hi! I was just in the-”
“Ugh. Jessica, now is not a good time. I was in the middle of something.”
“-Just in the..neighbourhood and I thought-”
“And I have this huge mess to clean up later, so-”
“-That we could hang out a bit.”
Lisa snorted, staring at Jessica, clearly unamused. “Jessica, why in the name of God would I ever want to hang out with you of all people?”
Jessica’s dopey grin never flagged, never faltered. “Well,I just thought we should get to know each other better. You know, we probably have soooo much in common, I’m sure we’d be besties if we just gave it a-”
A hand went up, cutting Jessica off. “Sorry, Jess, really busy today. Sorry about your Mom and all that, but I gotta…um…iron…my…dog.”
“That’s cool, I can help! Many hands make light work, you know!”
Marge, who had been watching from the living room, chose now to pipe in with her two cents.
“You know, Lisa, I think that’s a good idea. It’ll be good for you to get some fresh air. You’ve been…” Marge smiled to herself, a sight which made Lisa wince at what she knew would be an impending pun, “buried under your chores. Go play with Jessica.”
Lisa forced a smile, a false cheerfulness in her voice. “Mooooom, what about that mess upstairs, hm? Don’t we have to clean that up?”
“I can take care of that. I have more experience with that sort of thing anyway. Besides, we still have to wait for your father to come back with the cleaning supplies. Blood is so tricky to get out of wallpaper, really.”
“Uh-huh, but I already had my day planned out.” On my back, legs spread, taking Bart’s cock until you were a grandmother!
Marge frowned, and a subtle glimmer of crimson shone in her eyes. “I think it would be good for you to spend some time with Jessica, the poor dear could use a friend in these trying times.”
Don’t trifle with Mommy, Lisa. I’m not asking this as your mother, I’m commanding you as your Beloved Countess.
Lisa gulped, her smile disappearing. Her shoulders slumped, and after a cold moment of digesting her mother’s icy, dead tone, Lisa turned back to Jessica briefly, heading back upstairs.
“Just let me get dressed and we can…I dunno, take our bikes to the library or something.”
As Lisa vanished upstairs, Jessica beamed joyously, rocking back and forth on her heels, letting out a giddy chirp.
As Lisa was walking into her bedroom, Bart stopped by her doorway, his hair mussed from the towel he had no doubt simply tossed on the floor, his long cock swinging carelessly between his knees.
“Hey Lees, want to wreck your room next?”
Lisa stepped into a pair of white panties, grumbling the whole time.
“I can’t. Mom’s making me hang out with Jessica Lovejoy.” There was a mocking tone in Lisa’s voice at the mention of Jessica’s name.
“What? Why is she here?”
“I don’t fucking know, Bart.” Lisa reached for her dress, pulling it over her head and tugging it into place. “She’s all chirpy and eager to hang out with me, though. Fucking. Clam. Jammer.”
Lisa grabbed her little pink purse, checked to make sure she had some allowance to spend, and that her library card was in place, and sighed.
“What’s a ‘Beloved Countess,’ anyway?”
“Ah, Mom pulled that one on you too, huh? It’s Mom’s title. She’s like, the boss of vampires for…I dunno, the TriState Area, or just Springfield, or the entire world. I don’t know which, I just know that we can sass and back talk to our Mom, and even defy our mare, but when our Beloved Countess tells us to do something, it gets done.”
“Well it sucks.” Lisa walked up to Bart, taking his cock in her hand and giving it a rough squeeze, their noses touching. “I had planned to spend all day riding this beast, but Her Majesty wants me to waste my time with your psycho ex. Why is this the worst thing to happen to me on the same week I died?”
Bart hummed in pleasure at his sister’s touch, his cock curving upwards. “God, Lees, I want you to stay so we can finish what you’re starting right now, but then Mom does the growly thing, and she’s not afraid to compel us to obey her.”
With a sigh and the deflation of her shoulders, Lisa nodded. “Yeah, okay, I’m going. Get some pants on so Jessica doesn’t see this amazing hog and decides she wants it, too.”
Lisa headed downstairs, Bart’s voice in her mind making her smile. She can want it all she wants, Lees. We both know there’s only one dangerous psycho I’m letting have this piece.
Lisa slipped on her shoes, and walked Jessica into the garage, where they kept the kids’ bikes.
“You can borrow Bart’s bike, I guess. He won’t mind.” Lisa walked her pink bike outside, strapping on her helmet. Wait, she thought to herself, do I even need a helmet? I can’t die from a crash, can I? …Hmm…probably not, but, better wear it just so Chief Wiggum doesn’t ride my ass over not having one.
“That’s fine, I forgot my own bike at home.”
“Wait, how did you get here? Your house is on the other side of town, did you take a bus, or a cab?”
Jessica mounted Bart’s silver bike, moving her hair behind her ears. “Nope, I walked.”
“What? All that way? Why?”
Jessica gave the glowingest smile ever, one Lisa hadn’t thought the selfish girl capable of. “Because I wanted to see you.”

The ride to the library was mostly quiet - aside from the zipping of the bikes, the honking of traffic as the two girls weaved in and out of car lanes, Jessica rattling off how much fun they were going to have together, and Lisa muttering to herself that if Jessica didn’t shut up and let her think for two cocksucking seconds, the score would be Simpsons: 2, Lovejoys 0.
As they chained the bikes to the rack outside the library, Jessica did something that made Lisa stop and almost faint. Something inconceivable, impossible, almost as mind-shattering as when she was Bart’s obedient cock-thrall.
She held Lisa’s hand.
And together, the two entered the library, Jessica ecstatic to be hanging out with her new bestie, and Lisa wondering if Jessica was God’s punishment on the undead. Lisa found a table off by the windows, and quickly went to the catalogue, trying to think of something to do while she thought of a way to ditch Jessica. She had picked the library out of hand; she didn’t have a plan or an agenda besides getting back home and under her brother, so she’d have to wing it for now. As she flipped through the catalogue cards, an idea crossed her mind. Moving over a couple of drawers, she drowned out Jessica’s inane babbling, hushed though it was, and rifled through the file cards.
Vancouver.
Van Halen.
Vampires.
It was a long shot, but she was getting tired of getting no answers from her mother. Bart had been…divine…no, stop that girl, we’re being serious now, get your mind out of his pants!...he had been helpful to some degree, but he was only a week older than she was, as far as being a vampire went. His knowledge was only slightly greater than hers, and much of what she had was tainted through the lens of popular media. She knew, now at least, that sunlight wasn’t a problem for them. That tracked with what she knew from reading Dracula, and she knew she could move fast, and that she was apparently telepathic, but only to other vampires - her attempt to read Homer’s mind, and Maggie’s, hadn’t bore fruit, but then again, it was Homer and a baby, what did she expect - but beyond a rudimentary grasp of her abilities, she was in the dark.
What could hurt her. What could kill her. Would she age? How long exactly was “forever?” She needed information, and she was perfectly willing to gamble that at least one book in the library wouldn’t completely disappoint her. If nothing else, she could at least read up on what the public perception of vampires were, and that would give her a framework for some questions she could then ask her mother, once things had settled down.
“Ooh, what are we reading, Lees?”
Lisa shuddered as Jessica used Bart’s pet name for her. It repulsed her to hear that name come from someone else’s lips, especially someone she despised.
“We aren’t reading anything, Jessica. I am reading up on vampires, you are hovering over my shoulder like my own personal Jiminy Cricket from Hell.”
Jessica giggled that wrong-sounding giggle of hers, the one Lisa was certain had been purposefully designed to ensnare ships at sea and lure them to their doom. The two girls trailed off to the folklore section of the library, Lisa scanning the stacks for any books that caught her eye. Jessica saw something on one of the lower shelves, a cracked, leather-bound tome that seemed to call out to her. Cheerfully, she pulled the old book from the shelf, cracked it open, and glanced over the pages.
“Ooh, Lisa, check this out. A real, honest-to-God magic spellbook. Here’s one: ‘Collin Rayburn Nars Trebek Zabars Kresge Caldor Walm-”
Lisa’s hand snatched the book away from Jessica, who only blinked in confusion. Lisa had a half-stern, half-terrified look in her eyes, as if Jessica had almost pulled the pin on a very bad grenade.
“You really do not want to finish that spell, Jessica.”
“Why not? What’s it do?”
Lisa sighed. She had found a half dozen books she hoped could help her, and lead Jessica back to their table, rubbing her temples in irritation. “Bad things. Very bad things.”
Lisa dropped the books down on the table, pulled out the chair, and sat down to read, Jessica taking the seat across from her and gazing at Lisa like a moon-struck calf.
Lisa began to read to herself, her brow furrowed as she tried to parse the reality of her situation with what the book was claiming. Of course, the book never claimed vampires were real, that would have been asking too much, but it did offer up both folklore canon and what the movies claimed, so at least she had a frame of reference that she could ask Marge about later.
And the whole time, Jessica’s bore into her. She could feel it. After a few minutes of silent reading, Lisa had had enough of the other girl’s staring.
“Did you want to check out a book, Jess?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m not much of a reader.”
“Right. Maybe go online or something?”
“I got my phone for that. Want to see my collection of baby sloth videos?”
“Maybe later.” Actually, that sounded adorable to Lisa, but she was too annoyed to admit that much. “A magazine? Listen to some music? Something that isn’t staring at me?”
Her dopey fucking grin never left her face or diminished in intensity. “No, I like hanging out with you, even if you’re just reading quietly.”
Lisa let out an exasperated sigh, and closed the book.
“Alright, what the hell is going on here?”
“What do you mean?” Jessica sounded utterly sincere. Lisa’s objection to them hanging out completely baffled the girl.
“I mean, we loathe each other, Lovejoy. You tried to frame my brother for your crime. We are not friends. So why are you bothering me today? If you’re trying to get to Bart through me somehow-”
Jessica’s demeanour finally fell, and it broke Lisa’s cold, dead heart to see it.
“I know that what I did was wrong, Lisa.”
“No you don’t, you don’t know the difference between right and wrong. You’re a psychopath.”
“Hmm, sociopath, actually. Not that I can be diagnosed one way or the other since I’m under eighteen and everyone under eighteen hits all the diagnostic prerequisites for being a sociopath just by default. But I do know right from wrong, I just tend to ignore my conscience to get what I want.”
Lisa eyed Jessica for a hot second. “Right, you’re smart. I forgot that for a moment.”
Jessica’s smile returned, with all its ingenuousness. “Oh, maybe a little smart, but not like you, Lisa. You were in MENSA, that’s like, genius level.”
And now she was flattering Lisa. Well this was awkward. Lisa coughed.
“Uh-huh…so if you’re sorry about what you did to Bart, why not tell him?”
“Oh, I probably should do that, shouldn’t I? Do you think he’d believe me?”
“I dunno, try it and see.”
“Could we still hang out, you and me?”
“See, that’s what’s tripping me up: why?”
Jessica looked off into space, as if compiling a mental list in her head.
“Well, you’re smart, and talented, and passionate, and you care about, like, everything, and you’re pretty-”
Lisa choked on that last point. “What? You think I’m pretty?”
Jessica nodded, humming in the affirmative.
“Oh god…Jessica, I’m so glad you found yourself, and I’m…honoured…that you chose me to come out to, and maybe a few weeks ago I would have been open to something, except recent events have pretty much locked me in Camp Isn’t-Cock-Delicious, so..”
An airy giggle crossed the table, and several patrons of the library turned to the young girls.
“Oh god no, I’m not gay, Lisa! I mean, sure, I…I think I love you, but I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend or anything, just…let me serve you.”
What?
“What? What did you say?”
Jessica began drawing circles on the table with her finger, long, intricate fractals that only she could see.
“Well, it’s just that, you’re smart and pretty and talented, and I bet there’s a thousand things you can do to change the world, and I really want to help you do them. I only want you to be happy, and I want to help make you happy, if I can.”
Lisa’s eyes went wide. The picture was becoming clearer.
“Jessica, did you have any weird dreams last night?”
Jessica looked directly at Lisa, then slowly nodded. “Oh yeah, it was…wild. Really strange, you know. :Like, I dreamt I was in bed, about to fall asleep, and a ghost appeared in my room. I think I thought it was my Mom, because, well…but, it looked like your Mom, which is weird, but it’s a dream, so…”
Lisa was putting the pieces together in her head. “Then what happened?”
“Oh, well, then the ghost told me to follow her, and then I was in the cemetery at my Dad’s church, and…you were there, but…oh god, this is embarrassing…”
“Jessica, I promise, you can’t say anything right now that would make me think any less of you.”
“Oh it’s not embarrassing for me. I just don’t want to embarrass you. See, in my dream, you were naked. Like, completely naked. And…and I swear I’m not gay or anything…but Lisa, you were so beautiful.”
Lisa blushed. At least, she thought she was blushing. She felt like she should have been, but wasn’t certain if dead girls could blush.
“But also, utterly terrifying, you know. Like walking through the woods and seeing a real live wolf - a beautiful creature, but you don’t want it to see you or else you’re dead meat.”
Lisa swallowed her embarrassment. “Then what happened.”
It was Jessica who definitely blushed this time. “Okay, but keep in mind, I am not gay. Then, you…sort of…kissed me. Not on the lips or anything! Just…on the neck. I don’t remember what happened after that, except that I woke up in my bed, in pyjamas I wasn’t wearing when I went to bed last night, and all I could think of was how much I needed to see you.”
Lisa parsed all this information into something usable, then went slack when the conclusion hit her.
She had accidentally made Jessica her thrall.
“Oh fuck me.” She uttered in a small, derisive voice.
“Okay, as you wish.” Jessica moved to duck under the table before Lisa stopped her.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
“You told me to fuck you. I want to serve you, Lisa. I’ll do anything to make you happy, even if I have to serve you sexually. I want to be your…um…you know…slave.”
Lisa was certain she was blushing now. “No, no, that’s…oh shit. Okay, um…I’ve got the books I need for right now, so we should go home, I think. And…”
And what, Lisa Marie? What’s your fucking brilliant plan for this one, you fucking moron? You made the Reverend’s daughter into your obedient blood-slave! What the fuck are you going to do about this?
“And you should call your Dad and tell him I’ve invited you to a sleepover, just us girls.”
Whyyyyyyyy? Why would you do that, little starfish-headed girl?
“Omigod! That’s a great idea!” Jessica was simply overflowing with giddiness. “I can swing by my place, tell my Dad, and grab an overnight bag!”
“Yeah, great.” Lisa’s optimism flagged a mote, as if she were doubting her plan. But then inspiration reared its head once more, “That’ll give me time to…take care of some things.”

The girls had split up about halfway through the return trip, Jessica taking Bart’s bike to her place, and Lisa continuing on home, her library bag slapping painfully into her back as she pedalled. Her mind raced with ideas. But mostly, it raced with the realisation that, for a little while at least, Jessica would be somewhere else. She poured on the speed, the city streets blurring around her, and in seconds, she was home, the rubber from her tires melted from the friction of her superhuman pedalling and leaving thick, stinking trails on the street.
She wasted no time. No sooner had she stepped through the front door, then she shouted up the stairs, “Bart! My room, now!”

Marge peered her head out of the kitchen doorway, curious at her daughter’s demands. “Lisa? Where’s Jessica?”
“Gone home, grabbing stuff, having sleepover. Bart, that cock had better be hard for me, I don’t know how long we have before Jessica comes back and I want a full tank before she does!”
Bart met his sister in the upstairs hallway, having stepped out his room smelling like diluted bleach and faint warm rust. From the crack in the door, she could see that Bart and Homer had begun cleaning up the mess in his room, the black blood smears on the wall and carpet.
“What’s going on, Lees? Where’s Jessica? You didn’t kill her, did y–”
Lisa grabbed at Bart, slingshotting him onto her bed. She kicked the door closed behind her, her eyes glowing bright yellow, an animalistic growl rising up from the small vampire girl. Before Bart could get another word out, Lisa jumped on him, her mouth finding his, her hand stroking his cock through his shorts, before finally tearing the material away and rubbing her thumb hard against his glans.
Bart returned his sister’s hunger as she massaged his meat to full staff, his tongue snaking down her throat. She was certain he could have driven right into her brain if he wanted to, and the idea of him having that kind of power over her made her convulse preorgasmically. Hovering over Bart’s erect cock, Lisa tugged her panties to the side hard, held her wet, pink pussy howling as her brother's fat, throbbing member slammed against her cervix.
She began to drill herself onto his cock, rising and falling like an oil derrick. Bart chuckled breathlessly at his sister, pulling her dress down to expose her stiff, dark nipples.
“Someone’s hungry,” he teased.
“Fucking ravenous!” Her voice was deep and evil, the sound of a storm on the horizon, of a beast warning rivals off its kill. She gyrated her hips, massaging his cock with her muscles, milking him for every drop. Her womb was the vampire now, and Bart was going to be sucked dry and left to wither once she was done.
She rode him hard and long, slamming and grinding herself against him, arching herself backwards as his hands ran over her body. She had to bite down on her lip to keep her blood-rut in check, fighting against the screaming urge to bare her fangs at her brother. Bart wasn’t making it easy for her, lifting himself off the bed to kiss along her neck, his hands playing with her undeveloped nipples. Lisa gasped at her brother’s touch, then laughed as the pleasure exploded throughout her body, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him in close.
Bart growled, raking his teeth along her throat before sinking them in. Lisa whimpered in pain, her eyes wide as Bart sucked down her black, bitter blood. She clawed at his back, trying to dislodge his fangs from her flesh, but stopped as the pain slowly melted away into a euphoric pleasure that made her head swim and her skin prickle. She pulled him closer into herself, thrusting against him, the room filled with the sound of their flesh clapping together and their feral gruntings. Just as suddenly as he had attacked, Bart drew back, his fangs glistening with blood. Bart looked like a demon, and the sight, the thought, the quiver of fear Lisa still had for her brother, made her pussy muscles convulse and clamp shut against his invading cock, an orgasm tearing through her like she had never felt before.
“I love your taste, Lisa. Vampire blood might be the foulest shit ever, but if it’s yours, I could drink it all day!”
He placed his mouth over the wounds in her neck, licking and sucking at them until they heald shut. Lisa hadn’t heard him, hadn’t heard much of anything except her own moans and the rhythmic pounding of their crotches against one another. Lisa yanked Bart’s head back by the hair, smothering his bloody mouth with her own, swapping her blood between them as her pussy milked her brother’s cock. Breaking the kiss, the two siblings locked eyes, panting like wild animals as they rutted against each other, until Bart let out a strained, painful grunt, and Lisa felt a thick, creamy flood drenching her insides. Lisa shuddered as Bart’s cum filled her belly, shaking and stuttering then collapsing limply against his chest, both of them panting despite neither needing air.
Lisa’s eyes fluttered and closed for several minutes. Her mind had gone blank from the force of her orgasm. Her cunt was beginning to cramp up from massaging Bart’s seed from his cock, but she couldn’t will herself to climb off of him. She gave him a dozen heavy, forceful humps, making sure she had pumped him dry, then rolled off of his lap onto her bed, cooing and daubing at her bruised and battered pussy. Her fingers came away from her cunt sticky with juice, threads of fluid bridging her fingers. She looked at the sticky goo on her fingers as if studying it, then smiled. Bart licked her fingers clean, then leaned down to kiss her forehead.
“Why did you bite me again?”
Bart smiled, licking his lips like a wolf eyeing a lamb. “I dunno, it just seemed like the thing to do.
It was…instinct, I guess. All I could think of was, ‘she must be mine.’”
Bart lay atop Lisa, running his hands over her body, admiring her flat chest and her tummy, bulging slightly from the quantity of seed he had deposited inside her.
Lisa didn’t even think when she lunged upwards, teeth clamping around Bart’s neck, a purring growl rising from her throat as she fed from her brother, her sire, her lover. She drank deep, swallowing Bart’s blood in thick, long gouts, until clarity fell upon her and she forced herself away. Licking her lips, she smiled like a shark. “Oh ffffuck, I get it now. I don’t know why we did that, but I get what you mean. That…oh shit, that was…it was different from last time. Last time, it was loud and bright and scary, like…like I was being dragged into the ocean by a sea serpent. I had no control over anything. But this time…it was like I was the sea monster. I was doing the dragging. I had nothing but control.”
Bart helped Lisa to her feet, and Lisa’s hand shot to her crotch, in anticipation of the impending leakage. To her surprise, her slit retained every drop of cum shot into her, as if it greedily refused to give it up. She put a hand to her belly, feeling the load of cum inside her squishing around.
“Shit Bart, I can feel your cum in me. God, how have you not run out of juice to shoot into me?”
Bart grinned, taking in all of LIsa’s nudity with hungry eyes. “It helps that my sister is one sexy beast.”
Lisa smiled, and not for the first time today, felt as if she were blushing. She caressed Bart’s face, pulling him into a sweet kiss, then a volley of kisses, each lasting longer and going deeper than the one before.
It once again took Marge to break up the two lovers.
“Lisa, your guest is back!”
Lisa pulled away from Bart, suddenly feeling as bashful as a new bride. She dug her toes into the carpet coquettishly. “Can we go again tonight, Bart?”
This time was Bart’s turn to pull her into a kiss, imitating a move he had seen in an old movie, where some detective dipped his girl low, kissing her so deeply she nearly fell over. As Lisa gawked at him in stupified awe, he said breathlessly, “Tonight, all night, Lees.”
And with that, Bart strutted out of his sister’s room, cock hard and wet, whistling a happy tune to himself.
Lisa scrambled to get dressed, tossing on her nightgown despite the sun still being out. She rushed downstairs to find Jessica, a wide, disturbing smile on her face, a suitcase on the floor beside her.
“Lisa! Good news, my Dad said I can stay as long as I want! I-if that’s okay with you, that is.”
“Um…yeah, I can ask my Mom about that. I sort of forgot to tell her you’d be staying.”
“You mean you forgot to ask if she could stay.” Marge’s tone was stern but warm, standing in the dining room, putting the dried, clean dishes away.
Lisa gulped nervously. “Uh…yeah, is it alright if Jessica stays the night?”

“Or longer!” Jessica piped in cheerfully.
Marge scanned the two girls intently. She seemed to be sniffing the air, as if she could catch the scent of duplicity.
Lisa, what’s going on? You hated Jessica this morning.
Lisa laughed to herself nervously, turning back to her guest. “Hey Jess, you can take your stuff up to my room. It’s the top of the stairs, on the left, you can’t miss it.”
: “Okay! Thanks again, Lisa!”
Jessica hefted her suitcase up the stairs, and Lisa stepped into the dining room, pleading with her eyes.
“Okay, Mom, I know I wasn’t friendly with Jessica earlier, and…ah fuck, who am I kidding, I still think she’s a bitch. But, I think I sort of…accidentally…maybe enthralled her last night.”
Marge crooked an eyebrow up, then pulled out a chair, sitting down.
“I see. Lisa, what were you thinking?”
“I know, I fucked up, I didn’t mean to–”
“No, I mean literally, what were you thinking? A vampire’s intentions determine whether the person they feed from becomes a thrall or not. Did you want Jessica to be your thrall?”
“No, I swear, I didn’t even know what a thrall was when I bit her!”
“At any point in the past, have you ever wanted to have power over Jessica, or want to push her around?”
“No, I…I…oh….oh fuckballs, yeah. Yeah, I did.”
Marge’s eyebrows switched position, the down one going up, the up one going down.
“It was last week…Bart had…I think he had fucked me. It was the night I became his thrall. He said we’d have to eat the Flanderses and the Lovejoys because the–”
“The pious ones are always a pain in the ass, or something to that effect?”
“Yeah, I think so. And I said…I asked if I could keep Jessica as a pet. Ah shit, I did want to enthrall her, didn’t I?”
Marge sighed deeply, her expression becoming serious. “Yeah, that would do it.”

“What do we do, Mom? I invited her to a sleepover because I didn’t think she could be trusted unsupervised. I know when I was a thrall, I was one screaming orgasm or one grasshopper snack away from spoiling things for the whole family. I thought we’d be safer if I could keep her where I could watch her.”
Marge stood up. “That was smart, Lisa, but not every thrall loses their sanity like you did. Some can be made to be functional members of society, and can even be useful.”
Walking around the table, Marge placed a hand on Lisa’s shoulder comfortingly. “When we first came to Springfield, the first thing I did was enthrall Chief Wiggum. When Bart was born, I did the same thing to Dr. Hibbert. And when he started school, Principal Skinner. I needed people under my control who could otherwise make life difficult for us. Clancy Wiggum was a crack detective before he met me; now he couldn’t find the sun if he were looking up at the sky in the morning. Dr. Hibbert would have asked too many questions about me, and possibly about you kids one day, questions about my age, why my blood had no antigens in it, why I was always room temperature. And Principal Skinner…well, the man was practically a thrall to begin with, to his mother at least, I didn’t think he’d notice being my bitch too.”
What I’m trying to say is, having the Reverend’s daughter under your control may prove useful to us. You’ve given us a spy into the house of one of our enemies. But at the same time, thralls are also a great responsibility. They will do whatever their Master asks of them, even if it puts their own lives in danger. The only thing they live for is the vampire that enslaved them. Jessica will do anything to make you happy, and I know it can be very tempting to abuse that kind of power. But you should know that thralls can also be very dangerous to their Masters. They are a weak link in our defences. Rely on them too much, and should your enemies take them away from you, you may find yourself too crippled to properly defend yourself. Do you understand?”
Lisa nodded, her head swimming with all this new information. “I think so, Mom.”
“Good. Now, go see to your guest. And remember, she’ll do anything you say, no matter how dangerous or stupid. But that doesn’t mean you can throw her life away on a whim.”
Marge waved Lisa away, and returned to her chores. Lisa climbed the stairs, and pushed open the door to her room, where Jessica was laying face down on her bed, spread out like a gingerbread man.Jessica looked up from Lisa’s pillow, her dopey grin somehow even dopier.
“Lisa! Oh my god! Your room smells so good!”
Lisa inhaled, and wrinkled her nose. The room smelled of sex, and she noticed that Jessica had her right knee pressed into the wet spot on the sheets.
“Aha, yeah, it’s…the brand of…um…soap that I use.”
“Oh, I thought It smelled like somebody got fucked in here. But I didn’t want to say anything.”
Lisa choked on Jessica’s statement. “What? Why would y-you-”
“I mean, I’ve smelled my parents’ room after they’ve had sex, and it smelled kind of similar to this. But who would you have been screwing when it’s just you and your family. Unless…”
She rolled over and bolted upright, and Lisa became nervous that Jessica had discovered her and Bart’s secret love.
“Of course! You must have been rubbing one out before I got here!”
“Haha, y-yeah…oops, you caught me. I…I had an itch I needed to scratch. Sorry about that.”
“Oh that’s alright, I jilled myself off when I got home, too. I just had this irresistible urge to frig myself, I couldn’t explain it.”
Lisa didn’t know how to respond to that. Jessica bounced excitedly on the bed like a hyperactive puppy. “So what should we do first?”
“Um…I don’t really know. What do people usually do on sleepovers?”

“Well,” Jessica started counting off her fingers, thinking, “We can watch movies, listen to music, play games…seriously, have you never had a sleepover before?”
Lisa shook her head. She suddenly felt very lonely in her life, regretting that she had never found a way to make friends at school. Jessica rattled off a list of stupid little girl things that Lisa had always thought herself above, and did it with an energy that Lisa found herself envious of.
In the end, they sat in front of the tv watching movies and eating junk food, and Lisa forgot about things like thralls and vampires and cock for a few hours, just living the life of a normal girl. As evening fell, the girls had burned through more than a few of Lisa’s favourite movies, half a pint of ice cream, six sodas between the two of them, and a third of a jar of strained peaches when Marge fed Maggie her lunch, something which utterly fascinated Jessica. Marge let the girls watch Maggie as she got dinner ready, the toddler crawling along the floor while the two older girls watched her.
“God, babies are so cute!” Jessica cooed at Maggie as the toddler tried to reach for her hair bow. Jessica united the bow from her hair, and gave it to Maggie, who seemed disappointed that the bow was now just a ribbon. Still fun to wave around, but not what she had expected it to be.
“She’s not so cute when she needs a new diaper. Or when she eats, she likes to wear her food more than taste it.”
Jessica studied Maggie as the baby giggled at nothing. “That still sounds kinda cute, honestly. God, can you imagine us with babies, Lisa?”
Lisa swallowed loudly. A burning itch spread from between her thighs, and suddenly flashes of Bart’s thrusting cock filled her mind. She bit her lip to keep from moaning, and Jessica noticed her hosts unease.
“Lisa?”
“Huh?” Lisa blinked. She was back in the living room, watching Maggie try to climb up the couch, and not upstairs in Bart’s room taking his seed again.
Jessica smirked teasingly. “You were a million miles away, Lisa. I asked if you ever thought about having babies.”
Lisa tried to compose herself, but the ache in her belly wouldn’t let her be. She was certain Jessica could tell she was aroused by the idea.
“Um…yeah I guess I have. I mean, what girl doesn’t think about having a baby at some point, right? Even the ones who decide it’s not for them at least thought about it, didn’t they?”
“Um, okay, but like, would you want one.”
Lisa probably should have thought first before she spoke. “No, I don’t want one, I want lots of babies.”
Jessica wore a pursed smile, clearly amused by Lisa’s response. Before she could ask anything more, Marge called the kids to dinner. Jessica picked Maggie up, and carried her into the kitchen, where Marge lifted the toddler into her high chair, giving Jessica a warm smile for her help.
Dinner conversation was light and full of giggles. Bart, uncharacteristically, had been silent during the meal, and avoided making eye contact with Jessica. Lisa surmised that Bart still hadn’t forgiven Jessica for her collection plate stunt. After dinner, Lisa ran her first experiment, asking Jessica to help with the dishes. Marge hadn’t been amused that her daughter was delegating her chores, but Lisa assured her that she was only testing the limits of having a thrall, taking the small step of simply having Jessica perform a mundane domestic task. Marge murmured in protest, but didn’t push the issue, and simply watched as the young girl happily loaded up the dishwasher, then ran upstairs to play with Lisa.
Marge couldn’t help but smile. Despite Lisa’s claims to the contrary, it seemed that she had indeed grown fond of Jessica, perhaps even to the point that a kernel of friendship had been planted.
Bart had been lying on his bed, digesting dinner, reading a comic book and trying to ignore the yammering and giggling in the room next door. His cock ached to be used, his balls heavy with a fresh load of baby batter, and his patience was wearing thin. It was bad enough that Lisa had invited that manipulative cunt Jessica over - he understood that she was curious about having a thrall but eating with the bitch was an entirely different matter. An idea, delicious and perverse, and above all, stupid and juvenile, came to Bart. He got up from his bed, opened his window, and with all the cavalier of a youth who knew he couldn’t die, climbed out on the nearby tree branch, sidling along the limb until he was looking into Lisa’s room through the window. The girls were chatting about something - Bart could hear them just fine with his supernatural hearing, he just didn’t care enough to pay attention to what they were saying - with Jessica sitting with her back to the window. Lisa was sitting at her desk, at her computer, chatting away with Jessica, when she spied Bart balanced like an acrobat on the tree branch, his hard cock fished out of his shorts and waving in the air. Lisa’s eyes went wide, her mouth watering at the sight of her Master’s dick, her pussy moistening from anticipation.
Bart, what the fuck are you doing?
Bart only smirked. I’m seducing you, Lees.
Oh yeah, clearly. Her sarcasm bit even through telepathy. Because waving your dick around is the surest way into a girl’s heart.
She could see Bart scoff at that thought. Fuck your heart, Lisa, I’m trying to get into your pussy. My balls have recharged since earlier and I have a massive load of baby juice to give you. So ditch the thrall and spread those pretty legs for me, baby!
Lisa smirked this time, her tongue held firmly in cheek. She stood up from her desk, the sound of her chair moving catching Jessica’s attention, and moved to stand in front of the door to her room. She began slowly unbuttoning her nightgown, much to Jessica’s surprise.
“Lisa, what are you doing? I told you-”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re not gay.” Lisa’s tone was dismissive. She didn’t have enough room in her brain to care about Jessica’s feelings right now, not when Bart’s sweet cock and its fertile load were literally right outside her window. “Jessica honey, open my window to let Bart in, then grab a seat and enjoy the fucking show.”
Jessica turned to see Bart in all his glory perched like a sinister canary on a wire, cock jutting out and upwards, thick and throbbing with pearlescent threads of precum dribbling in wiry veins down the girthy shaft. Her mouth went slack in shock.
“Oh my god, what the fuck Bar? ”
“Jessica.” Lisa’s voice had become dark and dominating, and her eyes shimmered bright red. She didn’t want to compel her thrall - she wasn’t certain she knew how to compel anyone - but still a sting of authority hung in her words. “I told you to open the window and let Bart in.”
Jessica snapped back to herself, looked to Lisa, and nodded, mouth agape and stunned. She lifted herself from the bed, slid the window open, and stepped back. Bart stepped into the room, cock bobbing as he moved, and closed the window behind himself, eyes locked on his sister.
“Good job, Lees. You’ve got to keep the pets in their place.”
Lisa nodded, and turned her attention to Jessica. “Now, take a seat.”
Jessica dumbly planted herself into Lisa’s seat at her desk. Lisa kicked the bedroom door closed behind her, and let her nightgown fall open, revealing her dark, stiff nipples, slightly pudgy tummy, and smooth, glistening slit.
“Lisa, what’s going on? Why are you two-”
Lisa shot her thrall a feral look. “Jessica, while Bart and I are fucking, you will remain silent. You will watch. If you obey, perhaps I may let you suck my sheets clean after he’s deposited his baby-makers in me. Is that understood?”
Jessica babbled idiotically, her brain struggling to comprehend what was happening here.
“I-I-I–”
Lisa said nothing, only staring red death at Jessica as she climbed onto the bed, legs splayed and waiting for Bart. Jessica’s head dropped, her will broken. “I understand, Lisa.”
“No.” Lisa snarled coldly, a sound that made even Bart’s dead heart skip a beat. “You will use my proper title from now on. You know what it is, the word you’ve been wanting to call me all day. What is it, Jessica? What word has been on the tip of your tongue ever since you woke up this morning. What word fills your empty fucking mind when you picture my face?”
Jessica burned with shame. She felt as if she had been slapped in the face by Lisa’s harsh tone. She had thought the two of them were becoming friends, which made her so happy. But now…now she was only confused, scared and…excited?
“Mistress.”
“What was that? I didn’t quite hear that.” That was a lie, Lisa’s hearing was beyond exceptional now. Bart had climbed onto the bed next to her, taking one of her stiff nipples into his mouth and sucking it, one hand stroking his cock, the other strumming his sister’s cunt.
“M-Mistress.”
“Say it, Jessica.” Lisa had slapped Bart’s hand away from his dick and taken over the job of stroking it, spreading her legs wider to allow him deeper access to her cunny.
“You’re my Mistress, Lisa. I…I want to serve you. Please tell me what to do!”
Lisa smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile, or a friendly one. It was the smile of a cat who had managed to manoeuvre the mouse right into the killing zone. Her expression only served to make Bart moan with desire, and he covered Lisa’s body with his own, kissing at her neck.
“Ffffuck, Lees, I knew you’d be evil. That’s so fucking hot.”
Lisa grabbed Bart by the hair, yanked his head away from her neck, and growled at him like a jungle cat. “Shut up and finally fuck a baby into me, Bart. You do not leave my cunt until it’s properly fucking seeded.”
Bart chewed on his lower lip. He loved seeing Lisa be the aggressive predator he knew she was, but he wasn’t about to let her forget that she was still his junior, in both age and rank.
He thrust forward like a machine, his cock splitting Lisa’s pussy open and burying himself inside her right to his balls.
“Sounds like Jessica’s not the only one who needs to learn their place, little childer. You forget who your sire is, Lisa. You can play at Mistress with your new doggy, but don’t ever forget who owns your holes. I’m not fucking your pussy, I’m fucking my pussy. Got it?”
Lisa gasped as Bart rammed himself up against her cervix, her eyes fogging over with lust and pain. She let out a howling moan as her bed bounced and rattled under her brother’s assault. Jessica could only stare dumbfounded as the boy she abused, and the girl she had a feeling would come to abuse her, fucked like grain house rats, as if she weren’t even there in the room with them. She felt sick to her stomach - the idea of siblings having sex nauseated her on a primal level, and her father’s religious teachings still clung to her mind, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the primal display happening before her. Bart’s ass flexing as he ploughed into his sister, Lisa’s half-yelp, half-growl with ever downward push into her stretched out hole, fluids pooling under their mashing bodies and staining the sheets that Jessica was certain she’d be ordered to lick clean - a prospect which she knew should have repulsed her, but which she found curiously enticing - all of it a carnal tableau played for an audience of one.
Neither Bart nor Lisa gave Jessica the thinnest sliver of a thought, so caught up in their fucking they were. Lisa gasped and hiccuped and rutted back against her brother’s driving cock as it ploughed into her cervix repeatedly. She was relishing the thumping pain of her inner depths as Bart ravaged her, pulling him deeper into herself by wrapping her legs around him. She felt an odd, alien warmth deep in her core that screamed out for relief, for quenching, an ache which seemed to abate only during the brief moments when Bart’s cockhead kissed at the entrance to her womb.
Bart watched his sister's contorting face with the eyes of a raptor, keeping track of every minute muscle twitch and spasm. He hammered his hips into her, plunging her cunt with his tool, balls slapping against her ass with every pistoning thrust. He felt the burning, befuddled gaze of Jessica on the back of his head - no, she was looking at his ass as it rose and fell into Lisa, his swinging nutsack, her engulfing twat wrapped around him like a second skin - and her observation fueled his drive to pound his sister’s womb even harder. He wanted to rut her, to seed her properly and leave her with a swollen, flooded belly. The image of Lisa waddling around the house, glutted with his child, pale and cold and fertile and, above all, utterly wicked in her depravity, made his cock surge harder, almost longer and thicker inside of her. She squealed as his tool grew in size and intensity, throwing her head back, mouth a gaping, gasping abyss.
Jessica’s eyes went wide with horror when she saw Lisa’s gaping mouth, sharp, almost needle-like fangs on full display, a cold prickling running over her skin. Lisa’s eyes locked with Jessica’s, and suddenly the enthralled girl felt like a fattened lamb watching two wolves work themselves into a starving lather. Lisa grinned at Jessica, sending a shiver of mortal revulsion up her spine; and yet, part of Jessica wanted to kneel at the bedside and offer herself to her Mistress.
She shuddered as she thought of that word.
Mistress.
Lisa reached out for Jessica, gasping as Bart fucked into her. “Come here, bitch.“ Lisa was breathless from exertion, but her tone was ironclad and resolute. Jessica found herself drifting dreamily to the bedside, kneeling by Lisa’s head, eyes fixed on the rigid staff of throbbing meat perforating her Mistress’s tight, dripping cunt. It all looked so delicious - not her pussy, or his cock, but the two of them, the union, the abomination of brother and sister mating, fucking, breeding. Her previous revulsion at incest had dissolved into a warm fascination. Mistress had wanted Bart to breed her, to impregnate her, and Jessica wanted it to happen. She wanted her Mistress to be happy, and if being bred by her own brother made her happy, then Jessica was determined to see it happen. Absently, without being told, her fingers found their way up under Jessica’s nightgown, pushing past the cotton material of her panties, and into the warm, tight embrace of her own cunny.
“So beautiful. So beautiful.” Her mantra was stilted and sluggish, as if she were hypnotised. Lisa pulled her lewd gaze from her brother, her mate, her creator, to her pet.
“Are you touching yourself, Jess?”
Jessica nodded, eyes glued on the point where the siblings were joined. The sight of Lisa being rooted out, the sound of flesh upon wet flesh, and the smell of mutual arousal entranced Jessica, and a thin trickle of drool ran down her chin.
“Good. Frig your cunt good and hard, but don’t you dare cum, understand?”
Jessica stupidly nodded, mumbling her compliance as she dipped a finger into her pussy, stopping when she felt her intact maidenhead. Pulling the finger back, she restricted herself to merely drawing small, tight circles around her netherlips.
Lisa hummed as Bart fed his cock into her, battering away at her womb, his hiccuping grunts keeping time with his thrusts into his sister’s core. A jolt of agonising pleasure tore through her, and in a final, animalistic howl, she arched herself up, her cunt muscles milking Bart’s shaft, coaxing his heavy cum-flood into her hungry womb.
The sight of Lisa bucking up against her own brother like a cheap whore, trying to wring as much cum from his balls as her fertile womb could, caused Jessica’s dam to burst. Just as her feverish frigging of her pussylips reached their explosive crescendo, Lisa’s voice echoed in her head, her command repeating in crystal clear stereo, and the girl pulled her hand out of her panties, shuddering deliciously as her orgasm was neutered before it could ever build.
Tears ran down Jessica’s face, although she didn’t know why - perhaps from fear that she had disappointed her Mistress, perhaps from frustration that her orgasm had been denied, perhaps from the pleasure of having obeyed her Mistress. Whatever the answer, her head flopped limply against the bed, as Bart pounded the last shots of his load into Lisa.
It was minutes before anyone could speak again, and when they did, it was Lisa, her voice hoarse and cracked.
“Bart, baby, I’m hungry.”
“We just had dinner, Lees. “
“No, not for…”
Bart understood, and cut her off. “Right. You haven’t fed since last night. Well, your thrall is right here, and part of their purpose is as an emergency ration.”
Lisa’s face lit up, the idea having never occurred to her. She turned to her exhausted, denied thrall, sitting up against Bart’s chest, a sharkish smile one her lips.
“Are you still with us, Jessica?”
Jessica whimpered, this sound unmistakably made out of fear, and nodded.
“Did you cum?”
She weakly shook her head.
“Good girl.” This made her smile faintly. Mistress praised her! “Your Mistress hungers now, slut. Give me your arm, and serve me well.”
Jessica achingly moved her arm, stretching it out until her wrist was hovering stiltedly over Lisa’s nose. Lisa smiled, and opened her mouth wide, clamping her maw full of shark’s teeth onto the girl’s limb, and piercing the skin.
Jessica winced in pain, then cooed as the agony melted away into warm, velvety pleasure. She groaned as Lisa sucked and slurped at the girl’s blood, then just as suddenly, Lisa tore her head away from the arm. She quickly clamped her hands over the bleeding wound, and nodded to Bart, who bit deep into Lisa’s neck, and lifted the weak and faltering Jessica’s head to the oozing wound.
“Drink, Jessica, just like last night.”
Jessica clumsily planted her lips over Lisa’s leaking neck, and sucked down the bitter black fluid as it seeped from Mistress’ wounds. Her arm became warm and numb, and the girl felt heavy and sleepy.
Bart gave Lisa’s cunt a few final thrusts as Jessica fell asleep next to the bed.
“Do you think you caught this time, Lees?”
Lisa cooed as Bart fucked into her again, flexing her cunt muscles to massage his invading prick back to full mast. “If not, we’ve got all night, baby.”
Bart looked over at Jessica, sleeping peacefully by her Mistress’ bed. “What about her? You keeping her?”
“Oh yes. I like having her around.”
“Are you still going to test her limits?”
“Fuck no! Her limits are what I say they are. Now shut up and fuck me until you rattle another egg loose, Bart!”
Bart picked up the pace, slamming his hips against Lisa with renewed vigour, the bed creaking its protest long into the night.
Jessica dreamed. In the dream, she was safe and warm and protected and happy. Mistress would take care of her. Mistress had use of her. Jessica would serve, and offer her blood, and Mistress would smile and praise her and command her and all would be well. This was right. This was bliss.
A single tear rolled down the poor girl’s cheek as a grim and sad thought invaded her happy dreams.
Daddy shouldn’t have said no.

Across town, as one of Lisa’s young eggs was battered and assaulted by trillions of Bart’s sperm, Chief Clancy Wiggum and Sergeant Lou Merkel stepped over the limp, lifeless body on the kitchen floor. A kitchen chair was knocked onto its side just behind the corpse, a cold gun lying under the ornate breakfast table.
“Jesus Christ, Lou. How did nobody hear this?”
“Neighbours are on vacation, Chief. They’re up in Aspen.”
“So who called it in?”
Lou nodded over to the witness outside the house, speaking with Officer Eddie Finnerfield; Wiggum saw Ned Flanders, frantic, clutching at the hem of his green sweater, sweating profusely.
“Ned Flanders came by with a casserole. He says he wanted to make sure the Reverend was doing alright, that he came to offer a sympathetic ear. Said they had something in common, both of them having lost their wives and all.”
Chief Wiggum drew a pen out of his pocket and looped it into the trigger guard of the gun on the floor, slipping it into a plastic evidence bag. “Did you check if he had a permit for this gun?”
“Yeah, he bought it after those soccer riots a few years back. Even took one of those safety courses. I guess he was serious about being responsible with that thing.”
Wiggum shook his head. Timothy Lovejoy lay quite dead on his kitchen floor, splayed out in his pyjamas.
“Poor guy. First he loses his wife, now…damn. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Sarah. What about you, Lou?”
Lou coughed into his hand gruffly. “Um…if Amy died, I’d do a fucking heel-click, Chief. Bitch has been soaking me on alimony for years. You know, she’s intentionally avoiding getting remarried just so I have to send her money?”
“Right, right, sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up old wounds. Say, the Reverend had a girl, right? What was her name? Jennifer?”
Lou picked up a framed photo from a nearby table; Helen, Jessica, and the Reverend at a cabin retreat, the Reverend wearing a fisherman’s hat and holding up a large trout, Helen hugging him lovingly. The only one not smiling was Jessica, who looked bored out of her mind.
“Jessica, I think. No word on where she is, although some of her drawers were tossed and it looks like some things are missing.”
Wiggum half-pulled his hat off, scratching at his scalp. He clucked his tongue. “Damn. That’s a conversation I’m not going to enjoy having. How many murders we get a year here, Lou?”
“Two or three, Chief. Whatever else you wanna say about Springfield, at least we’re not all killing each other.”
“Hmph. Yeah, that’s...we haven’t much in the way of murders really, have we? Not since you and Eddie caught the New York Slasher. What was his name?”
“Sax, Chief. Steve Sax.”
“Right, right. Damn. Reverend Lovejoy. What is going on in this town, Lou?”
“You don’t think the Rev was murdered, do you Chief?”
“...No, no. It looks pretty cut and dry to me. His wife died recently, he used his own gun…I’d like to talk to his daughter, get the whole picture, but I just can’t see anyone having any problem with Reverend Lovejoy. Not enough to kill him over, at least. Poor guy.”
Chief Wiggum handed the bagged gun to one of the forensic analysts as he walked out of the house, the coroner squeezing past him at the doorway. Walking to his car, he could only think about how sad the whole situation was. He’d go home, kiss his wife Sarah, hold her closer tonight, and maybe listen to Ralphie regale him with another story of Wiggle-Puppy, before turning in for the night, hoping he’d get some restful sleep.
Inside, the coroners zipped what was left of Timothy Lovejoy into a black bodybag. His missing half of his head hadn’t fazed them.
If only he still had a face, they would have seen his expression; the frozen look of fear, of confusion, of hurt and despair
The look of a father betrayed by their own child.
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He's Like The Wind