PINIONING THE PERPETRATOR: THE HUMILIATING HOUSEBREAKING OF LEON LINDEN
By Quillon42
Poised menacingly above what was now considered a husk of a…housemate (he couldn't be thought of as a brother anymore), an alluring yet furious Ursula Linden hefted her hewing axe. At her feet was an organism impotent in so many ways, an uncaring and unscrupulous animal named Leon and someone whom Ursula once called brother.
She assured herself she was ready to strike down the cowering crumb now, in their very living room, after Leon'd invited his sister's man Stan over only to the former's end of poisoning and then bludgeoning the latter into oblivion. The Canadian nancy boy then tried to obscure his acts against Ursula future fiancé by hiding his ride, then secreting his Phys-Ed-major-focusing figure away amongst some freshly chopped logs alongside Chateau Linden. As goeth the choicest words of Chaucer, though, murder had most definitively outed, as the atrocity was revealed through an impromptu discovery by the Maiden Linden of her swain's Swatch (this tale takes place an alternate reality here from the canonical cinematic one, and it takes place in the late Eighties to boot, after all) as well as some dampened stains upon her casa's carpet.
Unable to apprehend or accept that Leon could be so far removed from reality, much less rectitude in this instant, Ursula excused herself from her sibling's presence posthaste, leaving him to parley with his synthetic companion Pin, a pal from childhood composed completely of plastic and other inorganic elements. Whenever the brooding boyperson was faced with any kind of crisis, he would turn to this soul-hollow homeboy for guidance, for good or for ill.
Despite the displacement of all his emotions and energy otherwise into his mannequin soulmate, Leon did not attain the answers he sought from Pin at that moment. No matter, now, as the maturity-stunted cuck of a Canuck found himself beats later at the feet of she, who made three such a crowd in their house between herself, himself, and Pin; she, who always agreed to disagree with Leon's decisions in his diminutive, miserable existence; she, who even now defied her brother the release of a brief death, she instead opting to flip the axe end over end to crack him across the head with the handle.
…
…
…
When he then came to, several minutes on, Leon realized he was unable manipulate nearly any single muscle of his scrawny frame, even though he appeared to be unbound on the surface. With his owlish eyes he gazed around the parlor, with his pouting mouth he yelled for someone to help.
And then in another few instants: "Aww, what seems to be the problem today, little boy?"
He couldn't fully take in the spectacle of his sister, she clad seemingly only in an eggshell blouse and sandals now, until she happened directly before his immediate field of vision. Upon catching sight of the young woman officially his kin, Leon forgot for a moment his inability to even move, transfixed as he was by the view of Ursula's naked alabaster thighs, they quavering cream columns that crushed the organic circuits of his mental faculties as easily as the lady sauntered across the room.
It was true that Leon couldn't be bothered to be aroused by nearly any woman—case in point regarding the magnetic Marcia and the barely-a-man's attraction to her, even as the former femme kissed intently upon the latter lameass during their date together at the movies. No, this eunuch of a Nanook couldn't be moved by just any nubile maid…but his sister surely more than did it for him.
Leon found himself faced with this in its entirety now, as Ursula shucked off her cedar slippers, she thrusting one such tootsie-covering clog into the features of the fucker that once was her brother.
Once this boy of about twenty-one years shook off the shock and hurt of said assault, he drank in the delicious depiction of his sister, she now desisting from further encumbrance of the slight shirt that somewhat covered her torso. As she unbuttoned lethargically from the nethermost link upward, Leon realized that while he was unable to move his arms or legs voluntarily, a particular, private fifth limb was still able to achieve a conspicuous quantum of locomotion. Ursula took note of this as well with a glare of abject surprise and nonplussed disgust.
"Well, I suppose that, under other circumstances, you would never be in need of the up and coming…performance pills, that the industry has been cooking up of late…
"Not that you would ever be interested in most girls anyway; other than myself, apparently."
This last was uttered with a wisp of bitter disdain as the young lady now permitted the brother she had physically paralyzed to behold her, she bedecked now only in brassiere and bikini briefs. A sheen of sweat had collected on the stomach of Ursula, and the detail of perspiration glinting from within her navel made her sibling stiffen stolidly.
"You were out a bit longer than you might have thought, just now. At the moment I'm sure you can't see your other two neighbors, superbly supine along with and alongside you…but they're both about to play a very important part in my next…procedure."
Leon again could not eyewitness what was going on outside of his line of vision…so he never saw Ursula approach either the corpse of he who was to be her future husband (and who had passed away after all, in this author's alternate imagining of the filmic fable), nor the dowdy dummy whom the maladjusted junior Linden had dolled up with faux flesh and dapper threads.
Ursula strolled first over to the recently-deceased Stan, and tenderly parted his lips, the beatific blonde then inserting some sort of capsule within the inert mouth. Thereafter she perpetrated the same upon the Pin which her brother had championed for far too protracted a time.
"You're probably catatonic with curiosity, aren't you, my dear bro." She stood before him once more, now divested of her bra, solely the slightest of whitest panties clinging to her shapely hips. Leon wanted terribly to nibble at the beige vanilla wafer that crested each of his straw-tressed mental mistress's circular sponge cakes, each brimmingly full with the batter of so much bustiness…but Ursula was sure to make the man starve for all time.
She began to pace beyond the scope of his eyesight once more. "I wasn't just hanging there idle, at my library job at school, you know. Had a lot of hours on my hands to decide what I was going to do with my life, in which direction I was going to go.
"Being the daughter of a physician, science has been in my blood, I suppose…in yours, too, of course, but you, Leon, you were always so much more about the demonstration of the practice, the surface of it all, than the depth of the devotion to the vocation.
"There are so many engrossing tomes in the university library, Lee, more than you could conceive of, even with your own calculating brain. I decided there to adopt a bit of a…hobby, of sorts. A bit of mysticism mixed with the pursuit of science—but not that of medicine, as with dickish old Dad—nope, in this case, plain old pharmacy. But not plain really so much, in this case.
"I call it…the PharmArcane."
Strange colors began swirling at the edge of Leon's eyeshot; he couldn't make all this out from his vantage, but reds, purples, and magentas began to emanate from the form of Pin.
"With some innate sciency instincts from the old unfeeling block of our Father…and a ton of book-learning from both the fields of the apothecary and the occult…I managed to concoct some really trippy drugs to try out. Only I'm not going to try them myself.
"This first one, I call Cloneapin. …Like Klonopin, you know…but this one acts to relieve anxiety in a much more dramatic way."
Again, Leon couldn't see it, but the pill that was given to Pin had, within minutes, established a duplicate of the ersatz person, down to every last manufactured millimeter.
"Now the other…"
Ursula operated not unlike an unworldly priestess in an ancient ritual, she certainly undressed for the part and mentally maniacal to boot. Greens, blues, and cyans welled up beyond what Leon could mark with his powerless peepers, and it all affected the body of the boy whom Miss Linden loved all too fleetingly.
"This…SOULOFT for my love Stanley…an antidepressant for my bereavement indeed…"
And then, in another ten seconds and after much suggestive gesticulating my Ursula
[WHOOOOOSSSSSHHHHH]
and the figures of the singular Stan and the Pin double had shifted, shunted…then seamlessly synthesized more mellifluously, more melodically than any Eighties Casio ever could. In the place of the two forms now was one simulacrum of a Stan Fraker, he partially alive, partially artificial.
Ursula for her part was elated, as she then allowed her bikini panties to peel down her perfect pearly legs. Before she began with the presently-floor-ridden love of her life, she strode over to her brother once more, she jerking his face around so that he could get a proper view of what his sister was about to wreak upon the newly compiled creature.
Leon would have let his libido loosen its load if he could, upon the sight of Ursula's sweat-gleaming belly quivering toward him…then abruptly her undercarriage hovering before his face, the meticulously-trimmed mead meadow ever tantalizing. This of course denied him as his sibling then turned away, the lady cursing the bastard as the latter's pained look fell upon the lustrous rounded fullness of Ursula's…urse, as it swayed to, then fro, then to anew.
And now it was this same urse that would replace the nurse in Leon's nightmares for all time to come, that nurse who invaded his self-designated safe space in his father's sanctum sanctorum…that office where he was first introduced to Pin, that one occasion when said specialist treated matters so that the mannequin was atop her in a most stimulating situation…
…Now it was Ursula who was sensuously engaging a figure which was phony, if only by a fraction. This occasion, though, it would be the madam who mounted the man-model, the young woman's pleasure to compete with her brother's paralyzed pique in terms of who could reach a greater summit of sentiment.
"I hated school as a teenager, Leon…I remember Geography class—how useless that BS is, you know—and when we did the chapter on landforms generally…"
Saliva swathed the face of the older, undone Linden sibling as he watched the ivory spheres of Ursula's ass rise and fall, all upon the motionless form of the new manifestation of the lady's love.
"They used to call me Urinesula…those jealous brunette fucks…after we learned about isthmuses and islands and all that…"
Next the blush coloring the fairness of her sallow stomach, the pallor there supplanted by far more florid hues as her belly curled and coiled upon the sturdy support of her quasi-lover's lap.
"Now, though…I suppose you could call this PIN-IN-SULA…get it?!"
Lastly the pushing planetoids of her hefty chastity-blanched breasts as Ursula worked her weight atticward, then cellarward, again and again.
By this point, Leon couldn't manage to avert his eyes from anything other than staring straight ahead.
…
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…
Another administering of the Souloft, and Leon was ironically granted his greatest desire.
Merged with the original Pin was the perpetrator now, this poor one whom puberty passed over presently collected together with the object of his entire ephemeral existence's unfailing fixation.
And to be sure here, Ursula was utterly certain of which of the figures would be appropriate for the authorities to dispose of, in the aftermath of their investigation of this bizarre affair.