Asylum
Chapter 9
Then:
It had been raining for three days straight and the forecast called for snow. Eddie stared at his wife while she watched TV. God, he hated to look at her. Betty had put on weight, and a slight double chin hung down from her jowl. He should have the life of a multimillionaire, not hid away in this inner city dump with his fucking fat ass wife. Spike had everything: the airline, the hotel, the women, the money, and the mind controller.
“Fuck Spike.”
“What daddy?” asked Donna.
“Nothing, get back to work,” said Eddie, pushing her head back down. It was time to make some changes. It was time for Eddie to take care of Eddie.
Now:
Eric loved the smell of the garage filled with its classic cars. More than a quiet little refuge away from his needy aunt and cousin, it contained the gleaming horses of freedom. Often, he sat and dreamt about his future with Donna. That must be what Betty meant each time she asked to go to Barstow. It wasn’t so much the place but the dream of having a place to go.
He found the cast-iron key cabinet, rusted solid in the salt air so much for getting the list. Then Eric realized he didn’t need a list of trigger phrases. All he needed was Mr. Cruz.
Although he promised not to touch Betty, Eric couldn’t wait to try his luck on the princess of darkness, if he could find her first. Despite of the house’s heavy security, Betty could appear and disappear at will inside the home. Today, Eric gave up, searching with no luck.
He found Sally, though, in the laundry with her twat wedged against the rounded corner of the washing machine on the spin cycle. Eric watched Sally’s ten pound titties going boppity-bop like tin cans in a paint shaker for three minutes until her moaning and twitching announced her orgasm.
“Mr. Cruz says you need to get rid of the bra.”
“Thank you?” said Sally, pulling off the heavy duty undergarment.
Eric looked at Sally’s expression. It took a minute to realize that his aunt didn’t recognize him. He could be anyone. Eric reached over and rubbed Sally’s massive tit. Clueless to who fondled her breast, she offered no resistance, and the blank stare remained.
“Mr. Cruz said to call me Mr. Thatcher.”
“Thank you, Mr. Thatcher.”
Eric escorted Sally to the family room where heavy wood furniture from another era sported plush, leather bound cushions. Sally sat and Eric pulled off his shorts.
“Mr. Cruz said to suck my dick.”
The feeling of power ignited Eric’s lust. He snatched his aunt’s head by her hair and began feeding her his cock, rocking his hips, pushing up to meet her warm, wet mouth. Looking down, he watched his cock slip in and out of her motherly face.
The thrill of control was electrifying. Eric made Sally crawl up on the mod sofa, putting her pussy at the perfect height to flop his throbbing cock inside her sopping pussy.
Spike was right. She’s fucking loose as hell.
Eric shamelessly slammed on his aunt’s twat, thinking about his mother. Everything about Sally reminded Eric of Addie, and Addie reminded him of Donna. The repeating video clip of Donna grabbing Addie’s sagging tit played in his mind. He grabbed Sally’s tanned ass by the hips and hammered her hard until he came daydreaming about the woman he loved.
“Thank you Mr. Thatcher,” said Sally.
The sounds of piano faintly reverberated through the halls. Eric lacked the musical background to recognize Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, but an education in music was not required for him to enjoy the rich melody pulling him from his bed at 3am. Only one person could be responsible. He had spent the day looking for her. Now, she was beckoning him to her, if he dared.
The house, dark and cool on the hottest and sunniest of days, was pitch-black at night. Sally bought small night lights to aid in navigating the confounding passages of the vast home. However, Betty would hide them as soon as Sally installed them, leaving Eric to feel his way toward the drawing room, the location of the piano and, hopefully, the mistress of the evening.
Entering the great hall, what Sally whimsically called the family room, he had the light of the pool to illuminate his way. Then he stopped. What would happen when he opened the drawing-room door? Betty is nuts. She could be in there with a fire axe, or more likely, a butcher knife. He waited until the beautiful playing ended, and then he softly applauded from the other side of the door. To enhance his safety, Eric retreated to where he could run for the garage, if needed.
The eerie faint blue pool lights cast long shadows toward the closed drawing-room door. He held his breath as the elaborate doorknob turned. In slow motion, she emerged from the darkness dressed in a long, dark nightgown.
“No men allowed.”
That voice, that indescribable sound, caused Eric’s stomach to quiver.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, as if he was approaching a wild animal. He couldn’t believe he was out there with Betty. A voice in the back of his skull was screaming leave, leave now, you stupid fucker.
“Well, Yeah?”
“What do you think about me… love-bug?”
Betty stepped closer to Eric but didn’t say a word. She playfully looked down at her feet and batted her eyes at him, taking another step closer still. Eric wondered when she would say, ‘Wanna fuck stud?’ And at once! She was there, and he was out of breath.
“Love-umm”
Betty put her fingers to his lips to keep him quiet.
“Wanna go for a swim, stud?”
“Oh my god, you can talk.”
“And I thought you were only interested in my body.”
“No, I mean, you know, never mind. Let’s go swimming.”
“You’re brave. Aren’t you afraid I’ll drown you?”
“That thought came to mind.”
“So you are only interested in my body.”
“Why the charade?”
“What’s a charade?”
After three sentences of sentience, she’s back to being Betty or was she?
“I like to swim at night. It feels like I’m flying.”
“You mean like a bat?”
“No? I mean, like me, flying free from here. If I could fly, I would fly all the way to Barstow.”
“What’s the deal with Barstow?”
Betty didn’t answer. She looked through Eric and silently slipped beneath the water. He had to admit Betty looked like a huge black bird effortlessly flying through a liquid dream.
“Are you getting in or are you one of those men that like to watch?”
Betty grimaced when Eric jumped in with a thunderous splash. She was already out of the pool before he got back to the surface.
“Too loud! You’ve ruined everything.”
“No, wait, Mr. Cruz—”
Betty wheeled on Eric with fire in her eyes!
“Love-bug!”
“Wanna fuck stud?”
“Oh, thank god, yes, I want to fuck.”
“Where?”
Yes, where? Kitchen? Butcher knives. Drawing Room? Fire axe… maybe. Family room? The pool.
“How about in the den?”
“Show me,” she said, removing her wet gown and holding out her hand.
“I know this room. Mommy’s paintings used to hang in our hotel. Do you like fucking mommy?”
“She’s the only woman I’ve ever had sex with.”
“Until now,” Betty said, grabbing Eric’s cock. “Too hairy, I like a clean shaven man.”
“Sure, whatever you say,”
“Now.”
“Well, I don’t have—”
“I could do it,” she said, pulling a straight-edged razor seemingly from thin air.
“No, that’s all right!”
“Sit! Now!”
Eric felt obligated to do as the woman with the straight razor said.
“We need this hard. Stroke it… come on, make it hard. Here I’ll help,” she said, groping his chest.
“Hey?”
“What? You don’t like it when a woman plays with your tits? You wanted to play with mine, didn’t you?”
“I’m a boy.”
“With a hard nipple, now stroke your cock for me.”
Betty got a bottle of body lotion that Eric had been using for lube to use as her makeshift shaving cream.
“Hold still.”
She made him hold his cock with both hands as she laid the gleaming blade on his hairy sack. Betty proved herself to be very capable with a razor and in a few strokes, Eric was nearly hairless.
“Over.”
“What?”
“Men have ugly assholes, especially when they don’t shave. Now over!”
Eric held his ass cheeks apart while Betty finished the job.
“Much better. Now take a shower. Men are filthy. Wash all your filthy spots.”
“Love-bug,” he said, pulling Betty into the shower and a kiss.
When he reached between her legs, he never thought he would shake hands with Betty’s vagina. Spike was right; it was as insane as she was. With a weak smile, he said, “Nice to meet you.”
The body lotion made great lube, and Eric coated Betty’s sex with copious amounts of it. He had to play with that fantastic pussy between his fingers. Her thick clit grew into a mini erection that got a lot harder than what Eric could imagine. The big curly folds of her swollen labia swirled back and forth between his fingers as he masturbated his crazy cousin.
He pulled her from the shower by holding on to her pussy. Sally may have been loose, but Betty was tight and her amazing pussy with its big lips and hard clit seemed to suck Eric inside, rubbing against his hairless balls and poking him in the gut. Spinning out of control, he felt like he was falling into a deep well of unfettered hedonism.
In his mind, images of the Goth girl with the skeleton neck spun before him. He could see her long black hair, her tattooed makeup and her big tits cast in the blue pool lights. She had him under her spell. Every sound she made gave him chills. They were two animals rutting in sin.
Then, with a wicked smile, she ground her teeth and growled—just before she bit his ear.
“Let go of me, you crazy bitch!”
In severe pain, Eric grabbed Betty’s head by her hair, but he couldn’t stop. His body had a mind of its own. He kept on riding her well lubed muff. She laughed at him with his blood in her mouth and, in that instant; their intercourse became more of a fight than a fuck.
He threw his hard dick into her sex and Betty kept up thrusting her meaty pussy to meet Eric’s big prick stroke for stroke. As their bodies slapped together, she growled and yelped at his efforts. Eric smacked Betty’s ass hard while he fucked her as fast as he could.
A few swats later, she shook, screaming out in a thunderous orgasm. Eric couldn’t last any longer as her pussy clamped down tight on his shaft. He shot his load deep inside her, triggering a profound change in Betty.
They caught their breath, staring at each other. Eric’s still bleeding ear dripped onto Betty’s face. Befitting her vamp persona, she collected the blood with a swipe of her finger and licked it clean.
“Nice fuck stud. Now you belong to me. Your cock belongs to me. Your balls belong to me, and your holes belong to me.”
Betty jabbed a long fingernail into Eric’s piss hole.
“Ow! Stop that!”
“Mm, a virgin, don’t worry, I’ll break you in nice and easy,” she said in a voice that swirled inside Eric’s mind.
I’ve just fucked Betty. What the hell was I thinking?