Converted: Bring the Family, Part 16

Suzanne and Samantha stood on the living room door in the living room doorway, eyes agog.
Both were wearing ankle-length denim skirts and shapeless gray sweaters with “Camp Lakeside Bible School” stamped on their chests. Both were pale-faced and open mouthed.
“Who are you?” Suzanne asked. “What are you doing in our house?”
The room was a mess, the air thick with smoke. The floor was littered with scattered clothes, empty bottles and cigarette butts, and the coffee table was crowded with more bottles, an overbrimming ashtray and a thin layer of white dust. The curtains had been pulled, cutting off the sunlight, and in a single lampshade uncertain amber light, the place looked like a cave or, Suzanne thought with a shiver, a pagan temple.
Home invasion, was all the girl could think about.
On one of the stuffed chairs, the Deacon’s favorite, sat a big, rough-looking muscleman, his arms covered and chest covered in tattoos. There was a thin, big-breasted girl sitting astride his lap. She had very short platinum hair and a heavy layer of make up on her hard face. Her back arched, her large breasts bouncing, she heaved up and down, her head thrown back, her eyes closed in ecstasy, a cigarette dangling from her painted lips. She was caressing her own chest with long-nailed, talon-like hands. The man, an obscene leer on his face, was holding her firmly by the hips, seconding her rocking motions.
On the couch, two middle aged women were sucking on some sort of glass water pipe, giggling and rubbing against each other. One was a hawk-faced witch with a wild mane of rainbow curls, her heavy breasts exposed beneath the red leather jacket that, with ripped stockings and high heels, was all she was wearing. Her companion was a heavy-hipped bleached blonde, squeezed in a black leather vest and pants, lots of rings on her fingers and in her ears. She was the first to turn to the two girls in the doorway, a wide drunken grin spreading over her vulgar face.
“The girls are home!” she said out loud, a cloud of azure smoke escaping her lips.

Samantha’s eyes widened even more.
“Aunt Sophie?” she whispered incredulously.
The short-haired blonde let out a long, growling groan and fell against her man’s chest, panting.
“About time,” she said, turning to stare at the two girls.
The big man took the cigarette from her lips and took a long drag.
“They look delicious,” he grinned.
Suzanne and Samantha gasped as the platinum blonde stood, and adjusted her short skirt. She was wearing red high heels and nothing else. There was fluid oozing down her bare leg. She stood there in front of them, her hands on her hips, grinning wickedly, and there was no way they could deny the truth.
“Sharon?” Suzanne breathed, taking a step forward.
“Hi, sister!” the girl that was Sharon said. She picked up a bottle from the table and gulped down the remainder of the amber liquor it contained. “We were expecting you.”
The man on the chair stood in turn and Samantha licked her lips as he pulled up his jeans and tucked in his massive manhood.
Sharon grinned. “See anything you like, sis?”
Suzanne’s eyes were filled with holy fire. “What is this?”
She turned to the couch where Sophie was reloading the glass pipe. “It’s your doing, you witch!” she hissed. “You sent my sister to that city of sin…”
Sophie gave a broken laugh. “Cut the crap, Suze.”
Suzanne squinted in the dark and the smoke, then turned to the corridor and started for the phone. “I’ll call the police!” she said.
“Call father!” Samantha called after her. But still she was staring at the tattooed man’s broad, tattooed chest.Suzanne picked up the phone and started dialing but the receiver was roughly taken from her hand. “You’re not calling anyone, you little bitch!” a voice said in her ear. “And your dad is gonna be home soon anyway.”

She turned and stared in the reddened eyes of the rainbow-haired woman, and recognition hit her like a slap in the face.
“Mother,” she whispered.
The older woman chuckled, and ran her tongue over her rouged lips. “Aren’t you going to give me a kiss now you’re home, little bitch?” she leered.
Her hand caressed Suzanne’s hip and she took a step forward. She smelled of alcohol and smoke and sweat, and there was a wild light in her eyes.
“What happened to you?” the girl managed to say.
Her mother tossed her hair back, large hoop earrings dangling from her ears. “You are gonna learn soon.”
She put her arm around Suzanne’s waist and pulled her closer, and turned to look into the living room.
Sophie was standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall, her thumbs hooked in her belt. She was smoking a cigarette. Behind her, Samantha was standing real close to the big tattooed man, and was touching his chest, while Sharon looked on and smiled evilly.
“What about we do this one?” Mary asked.
Sharon turned, her grin widening, and nodded. “Fine. We’ll have our hands full with the other anyway.”
Her man put a hand oh Samantha's hip and nodded.
Sharon walked over, hips swaying, and when she passed Sophie, Sophie slapped her ass. Sharon laughed. She was holding a vial filled with black liquid. As soon as she saw it, Suzanne was unable to take her eyes off it.
“Wait!” Sophie said. “I’ve got an idea!”
She took the vial from Sharon’s fingers, and gave a long, evil look at Suzanne. “Let me get one of my syringes.”
Mary laughed, squeezing Suzanne closer. The girl closed her eyes, trembling, as her mother grabbed her ass through the denim of the skirt.
“Sister,” Mary said, “that’s a fucking great idea.”