Otis B Driftwood One Shots: A Never Ending Collection

Platonic Evolution

I established a unique friendship with Baby Firefly at an exceptionally young age. Much like me, she was dark and twisted and interested in morbid and gory things. We were schoolmates until she was expelled for stabbing another student in the eye with a homemade shank when we were 7 years old. Our houses were about a mile apart, so our companionship continued once she snowed over a psychiatrist in a mental institution and convinced him she wouldn't hurt anyone else.

My parents were abusive and neglectful drunks. They didn't care where I was or what I was doing. Hell, they didn't feed me most of the time. I was a living skeleton until Mama Firefly made me eat on a daily basis. She tried to give me physical attention like she did Baby, but I always shied away. I didn't understand human touch and thought it was a strange concept until I hit puberty.

Once my body began to change and develop into a woman's, I became interested in boys. My problem was I was only attracted to older men. I tried dating dudes my age, but it never worked out. They weren't mature enough, didn't understand my dark side, or I was too guarded and wouldn't open up to them. My relationships always ended badly. Most of the time, it was because I didn't want to give up any pussy. I simply wasn't ready for that kind of intimacy, which produced drastic results. A lot of my exes hit me. I was almost raped a couple of times, too.

Otis Driftwood, Baby's much older brother, didn't take kindly to boys using me as their personal punching bag or sex object. He was extremely protective of me. I was another sister to him and just as dear to his black heart as Baby was. If he caught those things happening, he hauled those boys off to the Firefly basement to be tortured and never seen again. He turned most of them into art projects, which was fine by me. That's what those assholes deserved.

My personal dilemma was I was spellbound by Otis. However, I never did anything about my enchantment because he was so much older than me. I mean, when I was 15, he was 40. He was old enough to be my daddy. Maybe I had deep-seated Daddy Issues; I didn't know or care. I just knew I found that man to be incredibly sexy. From his long blonde hair to his icy blue eyes and tall, lean figure, he was physically perfect, but I was just a kid to him and always would be. I had to admire him from afar. I never even told Baby how I felt. She had a big mouth, and I was too scared she would tell Otis. I would be mortified if that happened.

Shortly after my 18th birthday and a particularly nasty beating from my old man, I ran away from home. Of course, I went to the Firefly house for refuge. I had no job, nowhere else to go, and I was a bloody, broken mess.

Otis was the one who cleaned my face up and nursed me back to health; he always was. It hurt Mama too much to see me like that. At that time, she said I was old enough to stay with them permanently and the law couldn't do anything about it because I was no longer a minor.

My daddy hunted me down a week later and demanded I return home. I vehemently refused. He smacked me in the face on the Firefly's front porch, right where Otis had stitched me back together. Holding my damaged cheek, I gave him the look of death through teary eyes.

"Bet that smarts, huh, ya stupid bitch?!" he slurred. "Git yer ass home NOW b'fore I do somethin' a lot worse!"

At that exact second, Otis wandered out the front door to see what the commotion was all about. "Hey, ya fuckin' prick!" Pulling a gun from behind his back, he aimed at my old man. "Jezebel ain't goin' home with you!" Hawking a lunger, he spat at my daddy's foot. "She's a fuckin' Firefly now! She lives with us! Git the fuck outta here and don't ever fuckin' come back!"

My daddy didn't appreciate that. They argued heatedly. My daddy had brass balls because he was drunk, and Otis's hair-trigger temper boiled over within 15 seconds.