Good Little Freaks: Chapter I
Author’s Note and Disclaimer:
Although arguably all of my works deal with dark and often taboo themes, I in no way endorse or condone the criminal actions therein. Sans some of my poetry, all of my work is fiction, and meant for an Adult/18+ audience. I will endeavor to add content notices/warnings to all of my posts, but some may slip through the cracks.
In Good Little Freaks, there is a general content notice for ruminating over past off-page (child) sexual assault (and grooming within a cultish Evangelical church setting), transphobia/homophobia, depictions of blood and injury, an on-page anxiety attack/emotional breakdown, consensual sexual scenarios, dub/non-con (fantasies), blowjobs, mentioned panic attack related to a past sexual scenario, breath play, chastity play/belts, breeding kink, bloodplay, non-consensual violence (with death and torture as the intended end goal), and cursing.
Reader discretion is advised.
Also, if the fact that any of the serialized fiction that I post on this site is only lightly edited bothers you, feel free to click away. At this moment, I have no desires get unsolicited editing advice unless I explicitly ask for it. Thank you for understanding!
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
— Psalm 23:4 (King James Version)
A three-story concrete tribute to the glory of organized religion and monetary wealth towered before Dresden Graves. Unkempt grass and weeds tangled with the wild bushes and the dead and dying flowers that marked the perimeter of the building. Everything was wilted, sad, and riddled with golden-brown and dark red leaves that curled and crunched under Dresden’s white tennis shoes. This place was a beige shrine to God Almighty, abandoned to the elements and whoever wished to lurk within.
Tonight, that would be Dresden and her chosen family.
She raked her gaze up and down the looming building, taking in every crack in the cement foundation that threaded out like spiderwebs. Every crevice where ivy pushed into the exterior walls was a proclamation from nature that the earth would reclaim everything.
Reclaiming. Her best friend, Victor, and she were reclaiming the concept of a church as a whole tonight, proving to themselves, especially to Dresden’s inner child, that this place, these temples, were just that. Places… And having some spooky, nasty fun with the rest of their polycule in this personalized scare-house was a massive bonus.
Dresden’s friends-with-benefits, Sidney Arlo, bounced on their worn Converse-clad feet, rubbing their bare arms, trying to warm themself up. The chains snaking around their curvaceous waist like a sash over their cream-colored, ragged slip rattled. They’d mentioned sometime earlier that they were supposed to be sexy Jacob Marley from A Christmas Carol, which was a choice, not that Dresden was judging. If anyone could pull off a costume like that, it was Sid.
“When are those two jerks going to show their faces? It’s too cold to stand out here for much longer. Soon I’ll actually be frozen to death, and this won’t be a costume anymore.”
The wind whistled by and whipped up the navy blue-edged hem of Dresden’s white cheerleader skirt, threatening to expose her lacy panties. Holding her skirt down, she looked down at the phone she had clutched in her hand. She tapped the chipped screen protector, and it lit up with the time. It was 10:30 pm. “We’ve only been here for ten minutes, Sid. It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, Sid.” Dressed as Dracula with a cape, charmingly goofy prosthetic fangs, and dark coils of his afro slicked back fashionably into a low ponytail, Victor Jameson wrapped an arm around Sid’s shoulder. “Besides, I can keep you warm.”
Sid rolled their heavily lined brown eyes, a smirk playing at their naturally plump lips that Dresden could die happy kissing whenever they fooled around. They let their boyfriend, Victor, place a soft kiss on their cheek. “Fuck off.”
Warmth flooded Dresden’s chest at the same time a minor twinge of jealousy pinched her. It was silly and probably a bit codependent, but her partners had been gone all day with the rest of the people—scare-house workers looking for a gig—and she missed them.
Calm your tits. Dresden ran her fingers down her waist-length split-dyed black and dark blue hair. It’s not like you’ll never see them again. It’s only been a day. You’ve been separated longer before.
Still.
The likelihood that some local might drive by and report them to the cops for trespassing was small but not zero. She and the others were standing in a crumbling parking lot in front of the dark entryway of this boarded-up Baptist mega-church.
A church that was eerily familiar to the one she and Victor ran away from when they were teens. Then again, all Evangelical churches, especially in the general Bible Belt area of the United States, gave her the ick. She knew that not all faith-related communities were necessarily bad or evil, but there was still always a silent scream that built up in her throat every time she had to go into or walk close by a building dedicated to any choice of faith. She knew that she shouldn’t put much stock into the gross feeling that stuck to her like shoes on the tile flooring of the church nursery she and Victor had met in. That was just her trauma and biases talking.
When her partners started looking for a location for their yearly Halloween bash, they hadn’t told her much. But they had asked her if she would be comfortable having it in a long-abandoned mega-church on the Michigan-Indiana border. She’d taken some time to think and feel her emotions while the pair looked up other possible abandoned places. Dresden had realized that she couldn’t run away from her past for the rest of her life. Reclaiming something that reminded her of the dark parts of her childhood was an important part of her personal healing.
Exposure therapy, Victor had said when the location had been proposed to the whole polycule. Victor, who’d been treated far worse than she had growing up, especially when he’d come out as a trans man to his and Dresden’s old friend group… and the other teens had betrayed him. Violently. Not that those kids were any good to begin with. All racist, transphobic bigots to begin with, just like their parents, who’d shown their true colors that day after youth group.
Victor seemed excited about today, and god knows Sidney wouldn’t have given the location a thumbs up if they both thought that it would be triggering for Victor.
Then again, Victor didn’t hold a grudge as long as Dresden did. Victor had sought out therapy first after he and Dresden had hitchhiked from bum-fuck-nowhere Alabama to move in with his aunt in Chicago. Dresden had taken a bit longer, irrationally scared that the youth group pastor and his wife would find her states away.
Like they even cared about her in the slightest.
Like they hadn’t already moved onto a new target to groom.
Nope, nope. Not going there right now. Dresden squeezed her eyelids shut. You were a kid. They were adults. It’s not on you.
“Babe?” Victor’s voice—a voice that had deepened after gender affirming treatment so noticeably that after a year he’d cried in her arms—lingered around her. Victor wrapped his crimson, silk dress shirt-covered arms around her shoulders. “You don’t look okay.”
Dresden’s throat bobbed as she inhaled his scent, a mix of his natural musk and the licorice, anise, and soft botanical perfume she and Sid had gotten him for his birthday. She chose her words carefully so as not to let on how scared she’d become so fucking suddenly. “I’m fine.”
Victor didn’t draw away. “You sure?”
That was a fail. Way to go, Graves. “I mean…Yes, really. I’m just…” She paused as Victor tensed around her. “Processing. Processing that I’m going into a church again after over a decade.”
“We don’t have to go in.” Sid’s soft cadence came from where Dresden couldn’t see them behind Victor.
This… being here… having a good time… could be healing for them both.
Dresden gently pried herself away from her friend. A loose grin formed on her face. “I’ll be good. I’m really excited about tonight. This is what I want.”
Victor gave her a hard look.
For a moment, Dresden feared that he’d call off the whole night. If that had to happen, it better not be because of her.
He sighed. “I trust you, babe.”
Sid slipped part of the way between them to give Dresden’s arm a good squeeze. “We’re here for you. For you both.”
A soft laugh parted Dresden’s lips. “I promise, I’ll be fine.” Really.
Her phone felt increasingly heavy in her hand as she searched for a way to end this conversation. Loosening her grip around the device, she looked down at it. Hyper-aware that Sid and Victor now knew that she was on edge, her fingers tapped the screen as she walked a few paces away.
She needed a distraction. Anything from the emotions swirling around inside of her. That’s what tonight is for. A scary distraction from the daily grind. The fact that there would be sex involved was a bonus.
She quickly shot off a message in the group text she had with her partners who were inside the church. Where are you?
After a moment, her phone buzzed with a text from one of her partners, Tomás Hall-García. Just finishing the final touches. J will be out in a minute.
Her phone vibrated again. This time, it was Judas Reid. I can see you now, cheerleader.
Dresden looked around her, spinning on her shoes’ soles. She couldn’t see anything, and now that it was starting to rain very delicately, the mist made the visibility even worse. Her heart thudded with anticipation. I don’t see you.
A pair of gloved hands covered her eyes. “How about now?”
“Fuck.” Dresden tossed her partner’s hands away from her face.
Fingers digging welcomingly into her waist, Judas spun her around.
Pulled flush against their tall drainpipe figure, Dresden’s whole self softened.
Her partner of the last four years beamed down at her. Their freshly dyed hair created a soft green curtain around both of their faces. It filled Dresden’s nose with the faint scent of their blackberry shampoo that was always so addicting to her.
She rocked up on her tiptoes and pressed her black-painted lips against his invitingly soft mouth.
Judas slid one of their hands up her body and grasped her chin. He broke the kiss with a soft click of their tongue. “Now what did we talk about?”
Dresden widened her eyes and batted her mascara-coated lashes innocently as giggles bubbled up inside her. It felt like it had been centuries since she and Judas had kissed. Or fucked. But for now, she’d settle for a stolen kiss. “We’ve talked about a lot of things. Um, was it my music choices on the drive here? Or maybe the weather, perhaps?”
Judas tightened their grip, firm but not painful on her face, effectively keeping her from sneaking another kiss. “No kissing—”
“But what about tonight?” She pouted, now fully reminded of the rules she had allowed Judas to place as a part of their mutual orgasm denial.
It had been three months of pure torture of Judas keeping them both from coming. Not that she hadn’t gone longer without release before, but fuck.
Every year, like clockwork, when the summer heat began to cool down and the humidity coming off the lake lessened, her body switched into horny mode. Maybe it was how the crisp air and the intimacy of cuddling up with her partners to watch horror movies after they all got off work… Whatever the reason, fall always made her so damn turned on.
“…Or fucking until I say so.” Judas continued, his perpetually tired-sounding voice hardened. “Not until I unlock this…” Their hand slipped under her skirt, caressing her crotch.
Dresden squirmed when he tapped the stainless steel chastity belt she’d been wearing since the beginning of August. Fuck, this isn’t fair.
“Don’t you want to be rewarded for your bravery?” Judas nuzzled the shell of her ear. “Come on, cheerleader. We’re so close.”
She shivered in his arms. Grinding her hips against his thigh, she whimpered when the steel of his chastity belt knocked against hers. God, any sort of friction would feel amazing right about now. They both were so close to fucking.
“Or we can extend this challenge all the way into the new year.” Judas released her and took a few steps back, a mischievous grin toying at his black gloss-stained lips. “It’s completely up to you.”
“Bastard,” she muttered. Dresden could feel her face flush into a rosy color. It was a stark contrast to her naturally pale complexion, which she made even more pasty with makeup. “How can you be so calm about this?”
She knew she could say her safe word at any time, and this would be over. She also knew that even though she was extremely horny whenever she was around Judas and Tomás, she was into this. Edging and orgasm denial were so hot to her.
The release would be so worth it. For both her and Judas. Tomás too. Even though he wasn’t officially taking part in this no-orgasm challenge between the two of them, he was a team player. Although he had jerked off in front of both of them several times a week, leading up to tonight, to wind them up. This past week, he’d taken full advantage of her in bed and humped her body and fondled her just enough to get her to the edge, but not come.
Asshole. But whatever. Tomás had teased Judas, too, and was certainly going to pay for it once the chastity belts were off.
The wind picked up again, biting against her bare thighs. Dresden didn’t bother to wrestle her skirt down as it lifted upwards. A light misty rain began to fall.
Judas chuckled softly, his gaze hot on the white panties she wore and the imprint of the locked device that effectively kept her from jumping their bones. “I’m just as riled up as you are. Believe me, cheerleader, when the time comes, I’m going to fuck you against everything I can until neither of us can move anymore.”
Her cunt clenched at his words. Face warm with his promise, she rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, well, maybe I won’t let you. Maybe I’ll find someone else to screw my brains out. Maybe I won’t let you touch me.”
“You want to be a brat?” Judas’s grin turned wolfish, his thin eyebrows—reminiscent of a silent film star’s—narrowed. The chains on his combat boots jangled as he walked backward toward the front door of the church.
She felt his warmth, an intoxicating body heat she’d just been enveloped in, fade away the further they backed away. She took a few steps to trail after him, absolutely dying to touch Judas again.
If Tomás was the sun that both of them circled and kept things going and well and stable and alive, then Judas was the moon. Phasing in and out of sight, always coming back, always out of reach during the day. A cold but not heartless constant that stole her breath away whenever they wanted to.
She always knew that Tomás would be there, and would come back. A puppy, as Dresden teased him whenever Judas had him on his knees. Judas… Judas was like one of the feral cats she fed and offered her home to. They’d be there when she needed them, ready with offerings of creature comforts and whatever else she needed. But she could never have Judas the way she had Tomás. Or even Victor and Sid, for that matter.
“You want to play?” They pushed the bangs of his acid-hued wolf-cut out of his eyes. “Fine. I can be a brat and play too.”
Dresden bit the inside of her lip, her honey-brown eyes all puppy dog-like as she met his icy blues. “Judas—”
Victor and Sid’s laughter burst out of the periphery of the pair’s conversation.
“Guess you’re sleeping on the couch tomorrow night, huh, babe?” Victor snickered.
“Hey,” Dresden crossed her arms, not actually mad at their teasing. Just sexually frustrated, and that wasn’t their fault. The challenge had been half her idea. “Don’t gang up on me.”
“It’s not faiiir,” Sid teased as they skipped over to Judas.
The two of them linked their arms together, grinning conspirators, like those twins from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Tweedledee and Tweedledum.
“Poor, poor Dresden.” Sid giggled. “Digging her own grave.”
Dresden huffed at the pun and flipped her friends and partner off. She looked up to the sky, which was thick with dark gray storm clouds. “Can we go inside yet?”
Judas’s phone buzzed. With their free hand, they fished it out of the back pocket of his shredded jeans. The space between his eyebrows creased as they typed out a quick message.
Dresden dropped her arms. “Everything okay?” I’m not being too much, too bratty, am I? She backpedaled on her thoughts.
Nope, no. Not going there. Not entertaining those self-deprecating thoughts tonight.
Fun.
She was going to let herself have fun.
Judas looked up, fumbling and almost dropping the device as he pocketed his phone. “It’s nothing. Just thought we had a hiccup with the set-up.”
It was Dresden’s turn to frown. She parted her lips, ready to ask them what it was, but the heavy door she hadn’t noticed Judas sneak through earlier opened with a creak.
With a pinstriped suit jacket that matched his slacks in both their pattern and lurid orchid color slung over his shoulder, Tomás Hall-García strolled out of the void that was the entryway of the church. A smile of crimson lipstick that looked suspiciously like the shade Dresden wore to her day job curved upward toward her partner’s cheekbones.
She squinted. Yup. He’d definitely used her foundation and powder as well to achieve a ghostly pallor for the rest of his clown makeup look. At least he blended it well.
The white dress shirt he wore rolled up his muscular forearms and made his exposed medium-brown skin look radiant. His tie was immaculately done and stood out from the green of his waistcoat. He must’ve opted to match it with Judas’s hair.
Dresden didn’t know what she had expected Tomás to wear tonight, but it certainly wasn’t that. Normally, he’d opt for something less clown-like, less “classic” Halloween-y. And not that he wouldn’t wear eyeliner or some highlighter on occasion—his “rock star look,” as Dresden dubbed it—he wouldn’t usually put makeup on for holidays. The last several years, he’d donned the punk-type clothes he wore on his off-work time and bondage gear with the cowboy boots that his mom had given him when she’d learned that Dresden’s hometown was the same as Tomás’s.
“This woman… She's your fate.” Dresden had heard Carmen García de Hall whisper to her son when they thought she couldn’t hear them from the pair’s kitchen.
Dresden bit her lower lip and grinned.
Even though she and Tomás had only been living together since the summer before last, they’d managed to make their bordering-on-cramped apartment feel like home. Then again, they could be living anywhere.
Tomás was home.
Her gaze roved her nesting partner’s body as he spun the giant ring with the master key to all of the church’s doors around his index finger. Even though he was eighteen years older than her age of twenty-eight, and twenty-one years older than Judas’s twenty-five, she couldn’t imagine there ever being a time when he didn’t give her butterflies. God, he’s so hot.
His dimples grew more prominent as his smile widened to dazzling proportions when he caught her checking him out. Behind his vintage over-sized glasses, his dark brown eyes glinted in the glare from Sid’s cell flashlight.
“Hey, lover boy, where the fuck have you been?” Sid pointed their phone at his face like the middle-aged man was under interrogation. They gestured to the blood he was wiping on his purple and white pants. “Who’d you sacrifice?”
“Your future child.” Tomás winked, the pale blue diamond he’d painted over his left eyelid wrinkled, as he fiddled with his badly wrapped palm.
“What happened to your hand?” A spark of panic shot through Dresden’s nervous system. She took a step toward him.
Before she could get over to him to see how bad the cut was, Judas was at Tomás’s side.
Dresden walked slowly over to them, not wanting to get in the way. Judas was the one with first aid training, not her. So, she would have to settle for hovering from a distance until her partner who she’d been together with the longest did their thing.
“Fool,” Judas grumbled, slipped off his backpack, and pulled out the mini medical kit. They produced a roll of gauze as Tomás unraveled the haphazardly done bandage. Focusing hard on the task at hand, Judas wound the medical-grade fabric round and round Tomás’s hand after disinfecting the cut. “I told you to let me do that, you fuck. That was my job.”
Do what? Dresden’s brows knit.
Tomás didn’t see her suspicious expression as he smirked. With his free hand, he tucked several strands of Judas’s hair behind their ear. He didn’t break physical contact as he trailed his fingers across Judas’s cheek and smeared the gloss Dresden had left on them across their other cheek. “Aw, you care.”
Judas flinched, but despite that, a secretive smile tugged at their lips.
Dresden was a mix of turned on and worried as Tomás grinned slyly and flicked his tongue over the makeup smudge on his thumb.
He didn’t look away from their partner’s distracted eyes.
She watched as Judas pulled the gauze tight, probably tighter than necessary, and guided Tomás to lift his hand.
God, I hope that it isn’t deep. Should we go to the hospital? He might need to see a doctor if it’s too deep. She wrung her hands together. What was Judas referring to? Should we be worried?
She shook her head a little at herself and whispered, “No.”
Her brain needed to take a chill pill. No one was dead or dying from some sort of minor flesh-wound. Everyone was fine. It’s all in your head.
Judas bowed his head and took the gauze between their teeth and ripped it.
“Sexy.” Tomás’s strong voice carried over to Dresden from where the pair stood.
She swallowed, internally agreeing with Tomás’s remark.
Judas secured the wrapping with some medical tape from their bag. He gently tugged on the O-ring connected to the much-loved leather collar that fit snugly around Tomás’s throat for a moment. Their troubled, thinking face was on.
Although she knew that no one would get angry at her for asking what was up, Dresden felt weird.
The whole aura of this place, this church that hadn’t been a holy place in years, was strange.
Off.
What if Judas was worried about the same thing?
What had Tomás gotten injured on that Judas was supposed to have dealt with?
Fun. We’re here to have some spooky, nasty fun. I bet that Tomás just got hurt on a prop or something. Everything is going to be alright. Dresden exhaled softly so as not to draw attention to herself. She didn’t want to be a spoilsport, and despite this stirring gut feeling of wrongness, she was so fucking wet for both of her partners.
But…
Can’t always trust your gut, Graves. Her heartbeat rattled in her veins as she fought to regulate her breathing as the memory of the last time she’d really trusted her gut rose in her mind. That had been when she’d thought Mr. and Mrs. Anderson only wanted her for extra help around the church. That they saw how strong her faith had been. That they thought she had been different from the other teens they could’ve chosen for their “special assistant.”
Dresden shuffled those emotions—feelings she thought she mostly had a hold on by feeling and releasing—away to be dealt with or channeled later. Preferably during a time tonight when Judas was fucking her so hard she cried.
God, that would be absolutely amazing.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
The wind was picking up, creating small cyclones of dirt and crunchy leaves across the empty parking lot. The glow of the nearest light-post a few stone’s throw away sputtered as the rain evolved from a gentle cold mist into a downpour.
Victor yelped.
Sid pulled him through the doors. “I don’t care if you’re ready or not, we’re coming.”
Victor’s laugh echoed through the shadowy vestibule and outward into the parking lot where Dresden was frozen.
Tomás and Judas exchanged a look when they saw her.
“Come on inside,” Tomás broke the distance between him and Dresden, despite the rain running down his face.
“Fuck.” That woke her body up. “Your makeup is going to be ruined because of my dramatic ass.”
Tomás laughed and let her yank him inside, snagging Judas’s jacket sleeve as they went.
I’m safe. Dresden walked into the darkness as it swallowed her and her partners whole. We’re all going to be fine.
