Story Orgy – I Am Not Myself, Chapter 14 (NSFW)

Good Monday morning Story Orgiasts! I hope your Easter was hopping with fun and you found all your eggs. Are you ready for the final chapter of my crazy story “I Am Not Myself”? Do you think Dan and Jack will get a happily ever after? Let’s get a move on and find out!

But first … some announcements. Lee Brazil has a new release now available, Mark’s Opening Gambit. And Em Woods is taking a step on the wild and scary side with her story Flying High. Click on over to the Story Orgy blog to read blurbs for both books and find links you can follow to purchase them!

Our Southern gentleman, JR Boyd, is nearly swallowed up by the load of his school work. Because of this, he’s going to be taking a bit of a break from regular posts. But never fear, he’ll pop in now and then with poetry and perhaps a hook up or two.

Our lovely picture today was found, as usual, by the even lovelier Jade Baiser, who’s not only a great “photographer,” but an awesome writer. Check out her blog and leave a comment!

The prompt for this week was: A couple returns home to find their front door standing ajar. Hmm, I wonder if I could use that effectively in my creepy doll story… 🙂

And now, for the wrap up of my creepy, sexy story…

I Am Not Myself

Hank Edwards

(c) 2012

The week following their night in the clearing at Kirkpatrick Manor, Dan helped Jack into his car outside the hospital and closed the door behind him. He left the wheelchair with a hospital attendant and slid into the driver’s seat.

“How’s Nora?” Jack asked.

“Good,” Dan replied. “Better, thanks. She’s home now, and dealing with things pretty well.”

“Good.” Jack was quiet a moment. Dan saw him place a hand on the spot where he was stabbed, the cast on his broken wrist hampering his finger movements. Jack turned and asked, “What’s going on with the case?”

Dan blew out a breath. He knew what Jack really wanted to know about: the statuses of Elena and Angelica. But they would ease into that.

“There were 43 graves in the woods surrounding the clearing,” Dan said.

“Good God.” Jack stared out the windshield. “That’s more than my graduating class in high school.”

“Closed almost all the files on my desk, too,” Dan said.

“Damn, you must have gotten one hell of an ‘atta boy’ from the Captain.”

Dan shook his head and glanced at Jack. “You’re too much, Jack Matthews.”

“Too much for you to handle?” Jack asked, his voice quiet, just this side of needy.

Dan reached across to clutch Jack’s hand, waited until he had to stop for a light to give him a long look. “Not at all.”

The smile he received in return made Dan feel like a high school kid again. This thing between him and Jack, whatever it was, meant something. Much more than the men he had met at the occasional bar. This was Jack, his Jack, who he trusted with his life on the job and, now, at home.

“So what about them?” Jack said, squeezing Dan’s hand. “You know…the dolls. How’d they do that? Move?”

Dan nodded. “Elena. She’s some kind of witch, not sure what. Either way, she made a doll, or a poppet, after Astor Kirkpatrick murdered someone. She took a part of the victim, sewed it into the doll, and could control it after that.” Dan shuddered at the thought. “The coroner has removed all the human remains from the dolls recovered at the site, they should no longer pose a threat.”

“Damn, that Kirkpatrick family was fucked up.” Jack shook his head. “What was Angelica’s involvement?”

“She participated in the full moon and equinox ceremonies, knew that women were being murdered and the dolls carried a part of them.” Dan shrugged. “Runs in the family, I guess? Astor was a psychotic killer, his granddaughter picked it up, too?”

They held hands the rest of the way back to Dan’s house, and Jack turned to him with a furrowed brow. “You’re not taking me home?”

Dan put the car in park and turned to look at him. “You are home. If you want.”

Jack blinked, then smiled. “Move in with you?”

“Yeah.” Dan shrugged and blushed. “Only if you want to. I’ve missed driving around with you all day, listening to you talk about shit like you know what you’re talking about.”

Jack threw back his head and laughed, then winced and pressed a hand to his side. He was still chuckling as he shook his head and glared at Dan. “Don’t make me laugh, Daniel Owen Archer. My stitches pull when I laugh.”
Dan leaned over and kissed Jack firmly on the lips. “You should know better than to tell me things like that.”

“Come on,” Jack said with a tip of his head toward the house. “Carry me over the threshold.”

Dan’s turn to laugh. He got out of the car, walked around to open Jack’s door, and helped him out. Leaning down, Dan swept Jack into his arms and, smiling at him, carried him up the steps to the front door.

And stopped.

The door stood open a few inches.

Jack turned his head, saw the door, and whispered, “Put me down.”

Dan slowly lowered Jack to the porch, then drew his gun from the shoulder holster under his sport coat. He held a hand out for Jack to stay put and eased the door open. The hinges creaked as the door swung in. The foyer looked fine, and the living room beyond was as he left it.

“Did you bring my gun?” Jack asked.

“It’s in your bag in the bedroom,” Dan replied.

“Got one hidden down here?”

“Kitchen drawer, left side in the back,” Dan said.

They moved into the house and closed the door. Dan preceded Jack through the small dining room and into the kitchen. Jack opened the drawer, pulled out a snub nosed .22, flicked the safety off and nodded to Dan.

A search of the house turned up no intruders and nothing out of place. Dan’s heart was still pounding, though, so they went through a second time, checking under the sofa and beds, inside each closet and behind the shower curtain. Nothing.

“Wind?” Jack asked.

“Not a wisp of it today,” Dan said.

They laid their guns on the kitchen table.

“Welcome home surprise party got tired of waiting?” Jack said. “Came and left?”

Dan smirked at him. “That’s what’s missing. A houseful of people.”

Dan’s cell phone rang, startling them both, and they laughed at each other. He pulled it from his coat pocket to check the display. “It’s Mom.”

“Take it,” Jack said, turning away. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”

“Hi Mom,” Dan said.

“Did you get Jack home okay?” Nora asked.

“Yeah, he’s here.”

“Was he surprised?”

“I think he was. He agreed to move in, so I guess that’s a good sign, huh?”

“I would say that’s a very good sign. I’m glad you two finally realized what I’ve known for years,” Nora said. “That you belong together.”

Dan blushed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, Mom, you were right all along. I’ll give you a call later, all right?”

“All right. Hi to Jack.” Nora hesitated, and when she spoke again, her voice broke. “I love you, Daniel.”

Dan felt hot tears prick his eyes. “Love you, too, Mom.”

He put the phone down and dragged the side of his hand across his eye.

“Nora okay?”

Dan looked up to find Jack watching him. He’d taken off his shirt and peeled away the bandage over his stitches. The black thread stood out against his pale skin, and Dan’s stomach twisted at the sight of the wound. If that knife had gone in a little more center, Jack would have died.

Jack looked down at the stitches. “They shaved me there, going to itch like crazy soon. But, it looks worse than it is.”
A tear ran down Dan’s cheek, surprising him, but he didn’t wipe it away. He looked Jack in the eye. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Jack’s eyes filled with tears and he bit his lip a moment before saying, “Not a chance, mister.”

Dan walked up and put his hands to either side of Jack’s face. He kissed him, slow and deep, tongue wallowing with Jack’s, the heat of Jack’s body rolling against him like a tide. Jack slid the sport coat off Dan’s shoulders and it fell to the floor. Dan’s holster and shirt soon followed, leaving him bare chested. Jack pinched Dan’s nipples into hard points, and rolled them between his fingers as they kissed.

“Need you,” Dan said, his breathing heavy as he pulled back. He raised his eyebrows. “Can you?”

“Not all of it,” Jack said sadly. “Not yet. But there are things we can do.”

Dan smiled. “Oh, yes, there are.”

He led Jack up the stairs to the bedroom, stretched him out across the fresh sheets, and slowly removed the rest of his clothing. Jack’s cock lay hard and stubborn along his belly, drooling pre cum into his navel. Dan leaned down, ran his tongue around the slick head, then lowered his mouth over the length.

Jack sighed. “Oh my God. That feels so good.”

Dan stepped out of his pants and underwear, then peeled off his socks, all without letting Jack’s cock slip from between his lips. When he was nude, Dan reached up to lightly pinch Jack’s nipples while he cupped Jack’s balls with the other. Dan’s own cock throbbed in time with his pulse, pre cum weeping into a puddle on the sheet. He needed this release badly, ached for it, but first he wanted to take care of Jack.

“There,” Jack said, the word barely a breath. “Yeah, right there. Oh, Dan, oh yeah.”

The hot flood of Jack’s cum filled his mouth and Dan swallowed it down, savoring the sharp tang. He kept Jack’s cock in his mouth, nursing the soft head as he stroked himself. When he was right at the edge, Dan let Jack’s cock drop from between his lips, thrust his hips forward, and shot his own load onto Jack’s cock and balls.

“Fuck, Dan,” Jack said, eyes wide as he looked down at the thick, slick mess Dan had made. “How long has it been?”

“Since we were together,” Dan said when he had caught his breath. He leaned down to run his tongue across Jack’s balls and cock, lapping up his own cum and swallowing it down.

“Damn, you’re self cleaning, too?” Jack put his head back and laughed, then moaned and rested a hand over his stitches.

Dan raised his head. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jack replied. “Made me think of my new oven when I said self-cleaning, and got myself laughing.”

Dan grinned. “Guess those comedy DVDs I rented were a bad idea?”

Jack lifted his head and narrowed his eyes. “You’re a mean man, Dan Archer.”

Dan helped Jack sit up, then get to his feet. He fished some sleep pants out of a drawer and 2 XL T-shirts. Once dressed, they descended the steps to the kitchen where Dan made Jack sit at the table.

Dan reached to open the refrigerator. “What do you feel like for din—”

Pressure on his chest, then something brushed the underside of his jaw, followed by a hot, stabbing pain. Dan cried out and staggered away from the refrigerator until his lower back struck the oven. Something hot and wet was running down his side and his bare foot stepped in something sticky. It took a moment for him to understand it was his own blood, and, just as the realization hit, he felt the hot, stabbing pain in his chest again.
In the background, Jack was shouting something at him. It sounded like, “Throw it off you! Throw it!”

Throw what? Dan slid down the front of the oven until he sat on the slippery-tacky kitchen floor. The pressure on his chest shifted, and he glimpsed a blood-stained porcelain face peering up at him.

It was a doll. And it was stabbing him.

He reached up, touched the starched material of its dress, grabbed it. It moved in his grasp, turning, and jabbed something sharp into his hand. Dan pitched it across the room, as far as he could, watched it spin through the air away from him.

A gunshot exploded in the copper-smell of the kitchen. Dan jumped, winced at the pain that followed. Across the room, the doll tumbled to the floor and lay still. A black, smoking hole had bloomed in the center of its chest.
Jack knelt beside him, face pale, eyes wide. Jack had such a handsome face; how did Dan get so lucky?

“How bad is it?” Jack asked. “Dan?”

Dan blinked. “What?”

“How bad did it get you?”

“Get me?” Dan looked down. Saw the blood around him on the floor, felt the sting of his wounds when he shifted.

“Hurts.”

“Stay with me, buddy,” Jack said. “I’m calling for an ambulance.”

Dan closed his eyes and his thoughts went to Elena, the night nurse. He could almost see her, lying awake in the psych ward of the hospital, her arms and legs restrained, her eyes open, staring steadily at the ceiling, directing her dolls.

* * * * *

Jack sat in the vinyl recliner watching Dan sleep. He had been given a private room, with two recliners for guests to spend the night. Or nights, as this was the third day Dan had been here. And he had yet to regain consciousness. Jack’s own wound was itching, the stitches driving him mad as he dozed and woke and waited for Dan to awaken himself.

Dan had received three stab wounds that had been closed by sixty-seven stitches. Jack had needed thirty-nine stitches to close his own wound. Dan was nothing if not competitive; he always had to do things that much better.

The grin felt good on his face after the last three days. Nora had been here each day, too, holding Dan’s hand, then Jack’s, both of them crying. She had asked some friends of hers on the nursing staff about Angelica and Elena, found out both were still in the hospital, one floor up in the psych ward. Nora had gone to see Angelica, needing to check on her former employer, see what her part in all of the murders had been. Angelica had been pale and weak, but her face had brightened at seeing Nora.

After a confusing conversation that tipped between the past and the present which did nothing to prove Angelica’s guilt or innocence, Angelica had whispered, “I’m sorry, Nora. I am not myself.”

Jack snorted to himself as he thought about it now. “No kidding, you crazy bitch.”

Dan moaned and rolled his head toward Jack, and Jack was out of the recliner in a moment, sitting on the edge of the bed. He held Dan’s hand, comforted by the warmth of his skin, and watched Dan’s eyes flutter open. Confusion at first, of course, then fear.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jack said. “We’re safe.”

“It was in the house,” Dan said. “Hiding in the fucking refrigerator. Is it… dead?”

“As far as I could tell,” Jack said. “Crime scene team locked it up in a glass box and took it away.”

Dan closed his eyes, swallowed, then opened them and looked around. Jack interpreted correctly, held up a cup of water with a straw for him to take a drink.

“Thanks,” Dan said. “So, how bad is it?”

“You were stabbed three times. Sixty-seven stitches.”

Dan closed his eyes. A moment later, he managed to grin. “Two away from my favorite number.”

Jack laughed and leaned down to kiss him softly on the mouth. “I love you, Dan Archer.”

“Good,” Dan said, looking deep into Jack’s eyes. “Cause we’re going to spend a lot of time together as we recover.”

“Best news I’ve heard all day,” Jack said, and leaned down for another, longer, kiss.

THE END

 ~~ * ~~

Well, what did you think? Was it everything you could hope for from a possessed doll gay romance story? Be sure to stop by next week when I’ll start an all new story featuring some characters that feel like old friends to me. It’s going to be a blast and a half, you won’t want to miss it! Until then, jump on over to the other Story Orgy blogs for more hot, smexy reads.

J.R. Boyd,    Lee Brazil,     Havan Fellows,     Em Woods,     Jade Baiser

Follow our tweets during the week:

J.R. Boyd: @JR__Boyd

Lee Brazil: @leebrazil

Hank Edwards: @hanksbooks

Havan Fellows: @HavanFellows

Em Woods: @EmWoodsAuthor

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6 Responses to Story Orgy – I Am Not Myself, Chapter 14 (NSFW)

  1. Super ending! Who would have thought to look in the fridge? They’d better recount the dolls in case they missed any. *shivers*

  2. Sharon S says:

    Possessed doll gay romance. Funny guy. Seriously Hank, great story. I’m kinda sad that it’s done. I must say, I’ll never look at a porcelain doll in the same way again.

    Hugs,
    Sharon

  3. Lee Brazil says:

    Omg- that is awesome! Perfect! Loved it!

  4. Amanda says:

    Great story Hank! I shoulda known that we’d get one more doll at the end. LOL. Glad to hear Dan and Jack are moving in. Cause if you can face some crazy dolls together everything else is cake!

  5. Em Woods says:

    Oh, you are such a bugger! I freaking jerked in my seat when Dan was attacked! LMAO! Great ending, Hank!!

  6. Frances says:

    Loved it! Thanks Hank for the great story!