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GENESIDE “Hey, bro, how’s it hanging?” Cain approached his brother where he was working in the field, and handed him a hand-sewn pouch of water. Abel accepted it and slurped it down greedily before answering. “Thanks for that. A real scorcher today.” “Yeah, it’s damn near to killing my melons. Tomatoes too.” Abel nodded. The sixteen-year-old had thin brown hair and shining eyes that lit up when he spoke. They were a stark contrast to the dark, moody eyes of Cain. Both boys were shirtless, the sun beating harshly upon their muscled shoulders. They wore loincloths around their hips, which barely covered their stout poles and low-hanging sacs. The garments were made of cow-hide, a medieval pre-cursor to designer leather. “So, why hasn’t Father been out yet?” Abel asked. “Oh, he and Mother decided to trek a ways west,” answered Cain. He shifted nervously from foot to foot as he watched his sibling take another sip. Soon, very soon. “They will probably be gone all day.” Abel put the water pouch to his mouth again and leaned back to get the last few drops. As they fell onto his tongue, he saw a quick flash in the corner of his eye. He turned, the pouch dropping from his hand, and smacked directly into the hefty stone his brother had kept hidden behind his back. Abel did not cry out, either in pain or surprise, but fell to the dry, hard ground, blood streaming down his cherubic face. Cain straddled the boy’s body, sitting on top of his loins, and laughed. “You’re the one, are you?” he mocked. “God’s little shepherd. You probably fuck the flock, too, don’t you?” He flipped Abel’s loincloth up and grabbed the boy’s cock. “Probably take this and stuff it up their asses. No wonder Father likes you so much.” He yanked hard on the limp penis. “You’re his butt-pussy when Mother’s away.” Abel lay still, eyes shut, blood clotted along his forehead and down to his neck. He was not dead, but neither was he conscious. The sweat was still breaking out across his chest, and the drops glistened like pearls. “Not going to answer me, boy?” Cain nearly shouted. His brother had always been a pain- a nuisance. At seventeen, Cain was strong and outgoing, the very life of the first family. Yet, Abel was weak, a coward. It failed Cain as to how this sack of pussy could have arrived from the same twat as he. Groaning, he lifted the boy to his feet and dragged him onto a slab of rock jutting from the field. Abel was a dead weight in his arms, non-responsive to everything. “Don’t worry,” Cain told him, laying him down on the slab, “I’ll make you strong if it’s the last thing you do.” He smiled and stripped off the boy’s only covering. “Won’t want that to get in the way.” Cain reached behind him and pulled out a newly-sharpened rock from his loincloth. He licked the edge and was pleased to see a thin line of red rise on his tongue. “Ooooh,” he said, “that is really going to hurt.” He checked to make sure Abel was still gone, and then hoisted himself onto the prostrate form, again straddling his brother’s chest. This time, however, he was facing the three-inch finger his brother called a dick. Settling his ass firmly upon Abel’s chest and feeling the boy’s sweat soak through his thin covering, Cain began to feel the first hints of arousal spring in his groin. His cock began to swell, but he fought off the desire and focused on the work at hand. He remembered Adam teaching them long ago how to skin a rabbit, how to peel off the skin, where to make the incisions. He looked down and began. The first cut did not rouse Abel, nor did the second. A person who has lost a good portion of their blood supply usually does not respond to much external stimuli, and Abel was the first to prove this theory. However, as Cain continued to slice downwards and inwards along the boy’s cock, Abel stirred slightly and moaned. Cain hesitated and looked over his shoulder. “Hey, sleepy head,” he said almost giddily. “Gonna make you that woman you always wanted.” He chuckled. “Really. Gonna make you that woman.” Abel opened one blood-filled eye and began to scream as his brain finally received the sensory impulses of horrific pain. He struggled to rise, albeit weakly, but fell back as Cain nailed him in his forehead with the same rock he had used before. Still, Cain wasn’t sure if he was really dead, but it didn’t much matter. The sun was lowering in the sky- he had quite a ways to go. An hour later, interruption-free, Cain held his prizes in wonder as he adjusted his position on his dead sibling. He was dead now- no man could live with himself after losing his cock and balls, Cain thought. He squeezed the fleshy organ in his hand and it squished around like he had imagined it would. The toher hand held Abel’s family jewls and he squeezed them, as well. He had discarded the sack, and now, he noticed, a large fowl was picking at it for supper. He laid the treasures down and slid his bloody hands over the gash between his brother’s legs. Why, he was a woman now. “Just like mother,” he smirked, “except she has much finer breasts.” Cain rose, stretching his cramped legs, and looked down at the corpse. Abel’s mouth hung absurdly open, his head lolled over on its side. His hands rested on his chest where he had tried in vain to scratch his brother off. Such a pussy. Cain bent over and flipped Abel onto his stomach. Abel’s head smacked the slab resoundingly, and Cain winced at the sound. “But still have to finish,” he muttered. “One last thing to do.” He took his sharpened rock and forced it into the pliable flesh of his brother’s round buttocks. He cut around each in a complete circle and firmly peeled the flesh off the muscles with care. Soon, all that was left of Abel’s once tempting backside was nothing but two crimson mounds of gore. This complete, he again flipped the body over and threw the skinned cheeks onto his brother’s chest. They landed there with splats! looking nothing like their mother’s breasts. “But it will do,” Cain said, picking up his treasures and chucking them out into the field. “What will Father fuck now? Maybe he can see what you found so appealing with your sheep.” And with that, Cain spit upon the bloodied, dismembered Abel and strode home, quite eager to see what his parents had found for supper. That night, as the sun fell upon the east, it also set upon a nation that would never be. The night creatures crept in, stealing their way silently through the fields. Some found a pleasant vegetable, others a tasty insect. Even others followed their noses to a rock slab jutting out from the field, where they found with delight, plenty for all. 
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