FLASH FICTION : Soft Spot

Consider this my suicide note; for by the time you read this, I will already have shoved one of the kitchen knives into the base of my skull. Only the peaceful void of death can spare me from the guilt of the atrocity I have committed. I cannot bare the look of hateful horror that will be painted on sweet Hailey's face when she returns from her errands and finds out what I did. The blissful nothingness of death is my only escape now.

I've always been able to tell Hailey all of my sexual desires, and she has always gladly indulged in my fantasies. Most of them are tame and mundane, but the one fetish I do have, I never could tell my wife, for fear of her reaction, and that it would spoil our beautiful marriage. It had always been pure fantasy, as I thought it would always remain. Yet in a brief loss of control over my sexual greed, this fetish has now ruined everything I have. I don't know what it is about the soft spot on a baby's head that turns me on so greatly and has caused me to lose control.

Just fifteen minutes ago, I was holding my daughter, a two-month old girl Hailey and I named Britney. She was cradled in my left arm as I sat on the recliner in front of the TV, while my right hand wandered along the folds of her head. Absently, the ball of my thumb began first to lightly caress, and then gently press down upon Britney's soft spot, and when I noticed, my penis immediately sprang into an erection. Britney stirred in her sleep as I pitched a tent in my pants, my entire body beginning to tremble as my breathing hitched and my heart raced. I was suddenly so excited; the horniest I had ever been in my life! Briefly, I questioned what I was doing, as pangs of guilt stung me, little more than an irritation, before I became completely lost in the moment and my lust became overpowering.

My trembling right hand slapped against my thigh, before the fingers fumbled loosely for the zipper to my pants, grasping them, and pulling down my fly. From there, I allowed my fully erect penis to jut upward, stretching six inches and hard as steel. My fingers closed tightly around my stiffened member, squeezing tightly, before releasing their hold as I peered down at Britney once more, eyes transfixed on her sexy soft spot, my heart thrashing against my ribs. Both of my hands were now placed beneath Britney's armpits as I held her in the air, her head lolling about on her shoulders as her sleepy eyes fluttered slowly open and blinked. I turned her over, so her head was facing downward as her legs were dangling in the air. Britney began to cry, softly at first, but growing louder, becoming a shrill howl of alarm and discomfort.

I thrust her downward in that position, moaning and grunting in ecstasy as my penis broke through the soft spot on Britney's head and plunged deep into her brain. The jagged ends of her skull cut through the shaft as I pumped in and out of the soft spot, but I was too far gone to notice any pain; I was too busy being overwhelmed by exquisite pleasure. Blood and gray matter clung to my member and splashed against my jeans and Boston Red Sox tee-shirt, and I kept going, thrusting harder and faster each time, my hands now pressed tightly around the side of Britney's head, pressure increasing with each new second until I was practically crushing her, as tremors surged through her arms and legs with each new brutal push. My body stiffened as my erection throbbed and pulsated, and finally I came, spraying a jet of semen against Britney's face.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as my head fell back against the recliner, panting, as my heart began to slow to a normal pace once more. I sighed with deep satisfaction as my hands released their hold and I allowed Britney's body to fall on my lap. My eyes slowly fluttered open as reality finally hit me and I realized with horror the atrocity I had committed. I screamed as shameful tears filled my eyes as I peered down at sweet innocent Britney now lying dead, her entire head covered in a red and white mask of blood and semen. I began to sweat profusely as my heart was racing once more, in panic this time, rather than excitement, as I let loose a frightened wail.

I imagined Hailey returning from her errands, walking through the front door, as suddenly the bags drop from her hands, falling on the floor when she saw what had happened while she was away. I could just imagine the look of horror, scorn, disbelief, and ultimate betrayal on her face as her blazing, tearful eyes burn right through me, amplifying the guilt and shame that already clings to my heart. That image--along with my sweet baby girl lying dead on my lap--haunts me every second now, driving me mad. Only my death can set things right and spare me the horrors of what I have done and the consequences I will otherwise have to face because of my heinous crimes.

 

The End

 

May 10, 2005