Asylum
Chapter 12
Then:
Eric got his MP3 player from the den by running along the hallway wall in the dark. He figured with his earbuds in and his music loud, Eddie couldn’t freeze him again.
He returned, feeling his way through the blacked out house. He stopped the music and strained to hear any sounds that might give him some clues about what was going on in the darkness. All was not quiet. There was random thumping, indistinguishable moaning, and the sound of bare feet slapping on tile floors.
As Eric moved, he got close enough to smell Sally’s perfume. “Sally,” Eric said in a whisper.
“Here, I’m here,” she said in a trembling voice.
“Shh,” said Eric. He reached out to touch her. She latched on to him so desperately that she pulled him off his feet, and he landed in the darkness face first into his aunt’s enormous breasts.
“He’s here. Eddie Cruz is here. Oh god, Eric, oh god please save us Eric.”
“How do I turn on the power?”
“Reset the storm guard in the garage. It’s a red light switch on the wall beside my truck. Just turn it off, and then back on. Everything will reset… Where’re you going?”
“Sally, I have to leave, if I’m going to turn the power back on.”
The sound of clattering in the kitchen made Sally jump. “He’s in the kitchen,” she whispered.
“That’s okay; he’s not in here, so crawl behind the sofa and hide while I turn on the power.”
Eric put in his headphones and turned up the volume full blast. He figured Eddie might hear the music, but it was the only protection he could think of. Inch by inch, Eric made his way, hugging the wall as he went. He froze in panic when he smelled a waft of body odor. He could feel the breeze of somebody flailing to find the source of the music. Stealth be damned, Eric broke out into a fumbling run for the garage. He dove to the concrete floor and crawled for the truck in the pitch-black room.
Eric found what he believed to be the switch for the storm guard. He paused and thought, if Eddie’s in this room, he will have a clear shot… Fuck it.
Eric flipped the switch and fell to the ground, crawling back under the truck. Nothing happened and then, with a loud spring-loaded mechanical clap, the lights came on blindingly bright as the rumbling blast doors retracted from the windows and doors.
From his hiding place, Eric could tell he was alone. If he ran for help, there was no guarantee that Sally and Betty would still be alive, or Eddie would still be around by the time he got back. He had to sneak inside by running out the garage and slipping through the backdoor. Its narrow hallway offered the best protection. For all of Eric’s cunning, the house seemed empty as he approached the light of the kitchen sink. There in the basin, a bloody knife lay in the spotlight, and bloody hand prints covered the counter and the walls.
He grabbed a steel pot as a weapon and burst into the living room, illuminated by a blue TV screen. Sally was missing. Eric looked for blood but found none.
“What the hell am I thinking?”
Eric realized Eddie could use Sally to attack him. He couldn’t trust anyone in the house and with the headset on he couldn’t hear shit but his music. Turning on the lights, he could see he was alone. Maybe they had all run outside as the blast doors had retracted.
Eric reconsidered, barricading himself inside the den. There, he could safely call the police, and they would be immune to Eddie’s mind control.
Eddie jumped out as Eric opened the door!
Eric screamed and swatted the gun with the pot just as it fired. The deafening roar of the firearm left his ears ringing such that he could no longer hear his earphones.
Now’s the time! But Eric stopped. He couldn’t continue, not even to save his own life. It was apparent that he was going to stand there and wait for Eddie to pick up the gun and finish the job.
A pale hand slid across Eddie’s throat from behind. A jet of warm blood shot out and splattered on Eric. Then a second spurt of blood caused him to look more closely at Eddie. His throat was slit. Frothy blood foamed at his windpipe. His jaw opened and then closed.
“Mr. Cruz, I want you to die,” said Betty.
Now:
It had been a couple of months since Eric had last seen Betty and Sally. They were at the graveside of Betty’s unborn son, Eric Summers, in Barstow, California.
The attack in Florida had made national news minus the bit about the mind control. As far as the world was concerned, Eddie tried to finish killing his ex-wife in the middle of the night. In a touch of irony, Betty defended herself by slicing Eddie’s throat nearly six years to the day that he had done the same to her.
Eric’s time back home had been rewarding and he could have stayed longer, but he really wanted to check back on Sally and Betty. He smiled at his father in the passenger seat. Hank still acted shell shocked and shy, like a kitten uncertain of its footing.
“What do you think, dad?”
“Son, it’s, it’s beautiful.”
“Well, the paperwork still needs final signatures, but it belongs to you and mom.”
Eric and Hank looked at the brick house on the corner lot of Hawthorn Street.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“How about I’ll take it?”
“Of course he’ll take it,” said Addie, joining them on the walkway.
Her smile said it all. Addie beamed with happiness. She bounced in place, lovingly holding onto her husband’s arm. Eric stole a glance at his mother’s bounding breasts behind her cotton sundress. She still refused to wear underwear, but Eric really hadn’t tried too hard to convince her she should. When Addie caught him checking her out, her inner slut ignited. Instantly, her childish grin smoldered into a seductive leer.
He chuckled.
“Mom, remember? Self-control.”
“I guess I need to be on a leash.”
“Addie Mae give our son some space.”
“He started it.”
Addie grabbed Eric’s crotch.
“Mom, we are on the side of the street.”
“I don’t care. I am in love and I don’t care who knows it.”
She pressed her breasts against Eric’s chest and gave him a passionate open-mouth kiss.
“Ahem,” said Donna, walking up from the SUV.
“Thank you, Eric. Thanks to both of you,” she said, to include Donna for the generous gift.
Eric was relieved that his mom had behaved so well. “So dad, now that you and mom have a new start, do you have any plans?”
“Your mom wants to keep her Cammy Girl account.” Addie gave Eric a wink. “I will be honest. I am a little lost. It feels like I just woke up from a fifteen year nap. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”
Hank looked down at his trembling hands.
“The first thing is to stay sober. I’ve gotten in touch with a councilor. She says there’s a class that meets at the mission to help folks brush up on their life skills. She also thinks that with my experience after I complete the program, I could get work with the county.”
“Dad, you don’t have to,” said Eric, reaching for their singular piece of luggage.
“Yes, I do, son,” said Hank, picking up the suitcase. “I appreciate the help, but I’ve got it from here.”
Hank and Addie walked arm in arm into the modest brick house. While Eric admired the hedge the landscapers had planted just that morning.
“Hey, let me show you around!” he said. He couldn’t turn back time, but he could plant cedar shrubs in the front yard. “It has all new carpeting, all new fixtures. I had the furnace replaced with a heat pump, and a Jacuzzi tub installed in the master bath.”
“It’s really nice, Eric,” said Addie, pulling her dress over her head.
Eric waited and watched his naked mother hang her outfit in the closet. Addie had responded well to rehabilitation. She quickly regained a sense of priority, a desire to keep a clean house and maintain personal hygiene, but to say her morals remained a little loose would be an understatement, especially regarding nudism.
Hank wasn’t up to reigning in Addie. The elder Thatcher would have to be content with watching his amoral wife parade her body, and commit adultery while he reminisced about the days when he was in charge.
“Honey, we need to leave if we are going to catch our flight,” said Donna, kissing her brother’s cheek.
“What? We’ve just got here, and I’ve been very naughty. Don’t you have time to make me whimper?”
“Mom, I’ve been making you whimper all morning. Your ass is still red, bitch.”
Addie bit her lip and sank her finger into her wet cunt.
“God, you’ve got it bad, mom, but they will not hold our flight just so I can put you in your place.”
Donna roughly grabbed her mother’s breast, and Addie gasped as her daughter mercilessly pinched her nipple. Hank shuffled toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Honey—“
“Hush! Don’t you dare say that word to me!”
“Sorry, Donna.”
“Donna? Just for that, I’m going to make you watch. You like to watch, don’t you daddy… Well, say it.”
“I like to watch, mistress.”
“That’s right. Pull down your pants… Humph! Just as I expected, soft. You know, daddy your dick looks like an acorn sitting on top of a couple of quail eggs. Show him what a hard dick looks like, Eric.”
Eric pulled off his pants, revealing his hard cock and hairless balls.
“See, daddy, this is a cock. I like that it’s shaved. His asshole is shaved, too. It’s so cute. It reminds me of when we were young. Remember when you called us perverts?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Shut it! I didn’t ask you to speak. Oh my god, it twitched. Did your cock twitch because I yelled at you or because you’re looking at Eric? You can speak.”
“I don’t know why it twitched, mistress.”
“You look like a buffoon with your pants around your ankles. Ha! It’ twitched again. On your knees, slave, put your hands behind your back. You don’t get to touch yourself unless you’re told to touch yourself.”
Donna continued to knead Addie’s breasts.
“I won’t lie. I’m gonna miss these tits.”
“You don’t have to go, mistress,” said Addie in a hoarse whisper.
“Oh, but I do. There’s a whole wide world out there waiting on me, and while I’m gone you and your submissive little husband are going to have to think of ways to impress me when I get back.”
“Yes, mistress,” said Addie, giving Eric a sideways glance.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you eyeballing my property,” said Donna, pulling the ribbon from her mother’s hair and walking to where Eric stood. She took the ribbon and tied it tight around his cock and balls.
“There, I put a bow on it for you, mother. Prove yourself worthy and I just might let you have your ribbon back.”
Donna felt up Eric’s ass and toyed with the head of his cock.
“You know, little brother. You should get a piercing. I want to hang a jingle bell at the end of this. Don’t give me that look. It’d be cute, plus I could hear you scampering around the house,” said Donna, giving Eric a private wink.
“Is your cock hard yet, dad? Oh, for the love of god, you are the little sissy man, aren’t you? Do you want to wear my panties?” said Donna, lifting her skirt. “All you have to do is beg.”
“Please, let me wear your panties, mistress.”
“You’re a big boy. Crawl over here on your hands and knees and get them for yourself.”
Hank’s voice quivered in an unintelligible sound as he slipped his daughter’s delicate underwear over the taut curves of her fleshy ass.
“Put them on.”
He quickly slid the warm panties on as he lay on the floor. He shivered when the wet spot cupped his nut-sack.
“Look at you grow, dad. Since you’re such a good boy, I’ll let you sniff my asshole.”
As soon as she felt his breath, she pushed her pussy into his mouth.
“I said you could sniff my fart box, not violate my perfect pussy with your filthy fucking mug.”
When Hank spoke, Donna rammed her pussy into his face again.
“You like it down there, don’t you slave? Maybe I should make you my toilet paper. You’re touching yourself. No, no, no, keep going, sissy man, keep pumping your sad little pecker. Obviously, your selfish needs outweigh your obedience to me. Come here Eric.”
Hank’s eyes widened as his son’s erection approached.
“Mother, we’re all going to watch your husband stroke his cock. Since he’s doing it, you might as well join him.”
“Yes, mistress.”
“Don’t disappoint me, mother. It’s bad enough that Hank can’t obey. That means you will have to work extra-hard to appease me.”
“Yes, mistress.”
“Tell me who owns your saggy tits?”
Donna held Addie’s breasts in her hands.
“You do mistress.”
Hank began whimpering.
“Are you coming already? How can that be? You take an hour to get hard and you’re ready to cum in two minutes! See what I mean, mother? You are going to have to make up for his weaknesses.”
“Yes, mistress,” said Addie, gasping a little as she, too, teetered on the edge of orgasm.
“Here slave, you may cum on my foot.”
Donna shoved her sandal clad foot up against Hank’s balls hard enough to make him yelp. She kept pressing his balls as she waited.
“Come on, the leg’s getting a little tired here.”
“Yes, eh, ah, aaah, mistress… yes.”
A small trickle of cum dribbled down to Donna’s foot and ran between her toes.
“There you go mother, your man’s seed is soiling my feet. Lick it up, now.”
“Yes, mistress,” said Addie, going to her knees to lap at Donna’s foot.
“If you were waiting, that’s your cue,” Donna said to Eric, pointing at Addie’s ass.
Nothing else needed to be said. Eric was behind his mother in a second. By now, Eric had gotten to fuck every woman in his family except Donna. Hands down, Betty was Eric’s favorite. In a freaky way, she was never the same woman twice, but she always had that amazing voice and bizarre pussy. Not to mention she was scary as hell. Sex with her was like fucking a human rollercoaster inside a haunted house.
Addie was second on the list. Like all the Summers women, she shared the same body and attractive face that Nanna Candy had given to all her descendants. More than physical attraction, Eric and Addie shared a special bond, whether they were talking over coffee, making out on the sofa, or, like now, mindlessly rutting for Donna’s entertainment. Not once had Addie given up on her son, and now he had done the impossible and saved them all, including Hank.
Sally was a special case. She needed Eric to boost her ego more than for the sex. Eddie had made a point of destroying Sally’s body using sex toys and porn stars to push her beyond her limits. Every Cammy Girls show ended with Sally balled up on the floor, crying her eyes out. Now that those days are behind her, she needed a lot of grief counseling and emotional support and there really isn’t a therapy group for old whores.
As Eric buried his cock in his mother’s sweet pussy again, he smiled at Donna as she called the shots. This was feel-good S&M, maybe a little name calling, but no one got chewed out and no one got hurt. With Donna as the ringleader, there were always lots of laughs and plenty of sex, even for poor old Hank who got special attention from daddy’s little girl. One day, Eric was going to fuck Donna, just not today.
Fear more than anything else prevented Eric and Donna from consummating their love. Sex had destroyed their family, though they had plastered the ruins back together neither one of them was in a rush to go all the way with each other. Plus, they got to have plenty of sex with everyone else.
“Wow, I’m impressed. I didn’t think we had enough time for another threesome,” Eric said as they hurried out of the house.
“A sadist and a masochist meet in a bar,” Donna said to Eric with a sideways grin. “The masochist says ‘beat me, beat me, please beat me… the sadist says, no.”
Eric rolled his eyes and groaned at the cheesy joke as a big man with a sticky note strolled up from the sidewalk.
“Hey, is this the Thatcher residence? I’m looking for Addie Thatcher. My name’s Jerrod, I’m an actor, and I do, um, uh, guest photo shoots.”
“Yeah, Addie’s inside. Her husband’s home, but don’t worry. He doesn’t care.”
“And trust me, she’ll love to get your guest shot,” said Donna with a giggle.
“Who are you two?”
“We’re her kids. Tell her that Mistress Donna sent you, because she’s been naughty.”
Eric opened Donna’s car door as they left the dumbstruck man behind.
“Good boy.”
They drove off with the big guy still looking in their direction.
“What’s this boy shit?”
“I am a mistress, duh, I have to keep up appearances,” said Donna, flipping her hair before breaking down into a fit of laughter. “Is he still looking?” she gasped in between bouts of cackling.
“No, he went inside… Seriously, what about us? What are we going to do?” said Eric, pulling onto the cross street.”
“Well, we can’t get married. Neither one of us wants any kids. So, I guess we’ll travel the world and grow old together. We already have a house in Florida.”
Donna smiled and gave Eric a kiss on the cheek.
“I love you, Eric Thatcher.”