Cumming Home
Chapter Twenty
“Tell me about Margo. Anything I need to know as her new owner?”
Colton and Matt had just shaken down The Plowman’s Bakery for the monthly assessment.
“I keep her around mostly to entertain the boys. Say what you want, but having a mother at home is the best way to raise kids. You don’t see my boys out tearing shit up, spray painting buildings, or getting into fights.”
“How much meth does she burn through in a month?”
“Not as much as you would think. I give her just enough to keep her going when she’s not on a crash. That’s how I caught the boys fucking their mom. I bet you know what that’s like, huh?”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Matt?”
“Sorry sir, please don’t be angry with me. Um, sir, I need to tell you that someone important wants to meet you this evening, at the Atrium.”
“Really? If it was so important, why didn’t you tell me in the first place?”
“Well, uh, uh, you asked about Margo, and I was trying to ease my way into it and”
“Listen to me, Matt. If you ever have anything important to say, just tell me. Don’t waste my time trying to set the mood. Have Margo pack her shit. She’s moving in with me.”
Marvin Bartholomew looked especially dapper at the Atrium’s front desk. Without a word, he left his post, escorting Colton into the Paul Bunyan Room.
“Colton Sherman, meet Mr. Oliver Blackwell.”
“Mr. Sherman, I am an associate of Mr. Marshall,” said the thin man with a hawkish nose.
“Blackwell? Aren’t you guys supposed to have names like Fettuccini or Linguini?”
“Was that a joke? If so, I suggest you give up comedy. I’m an attorney and the people I represent don’t have a sense of humor.”
“Sorry, Mr. Blackwell, but when Mr. Marshall could not tell me your name and then Mr. Bartholomew ushered me to meet you, in a new suit, no less. I assumed you must be some crazy kind of mobster, not a lawyer.”
“I’m not impressed with your attitude, young man. Furthermore, I don’t believe your story, and that’s a problem.”
“My story? Did someone tell you that I wrote a book? I don’t know who you are, but I’m just a regular guy trying to pay the bills to live the American dream.”
“You drove a van containing two motorcycles and a million dollars worth of stolen drugs across the state line. I remember civics class, but I don’t remember cocaine mentioned as part of the American dream.”
“This is the first I heard of any cocaine, Mr. Blackwell. All I know is two local boys got on the wrong side of a turf war out of town. Officer Marshall asked me to sneak them past the M’Dingoes because I have a van.”
“Maybe, but the kind of person that is called out in the middle of the night to rescue wayward ‘local boys’ is seldom on a first name basis with FBI agents Mr. Sherman.”
“You mean, Nessa? What can I say? She took one look at me and fell in love.”
“Mr. Sherman cut the act. I do not believe. Therefore, my associates do not believe. A seasoned FBI agent in her thirties would willingly disclose sensitive information to an eighteen-year-old boy she just met.”
“Did she divulge secret FBI shit? I don’t know. I gave what she handed me to Officer Marshall, Mr. Blackwell. As I said, I’m just a regular guy.”
“Then tell me. Who is this?” said Mr. Blackwell, sliding his phone across the table with an image of Colton and Bernie talking outside the apothecary.
“That’s Bernard Stenholm.”
“Is he a friend of yours?”
“He’s a guy I know. Why?”
“Just curious Mr. Sherman. You’re something of a puzzle. You go to unexpected places, do unexpected things, but you always end up returning to Mr. Stenholm’s business. Do you work for Mr. Stenholm?”
“No.”
“Are you an associate of Mr. Stenholm?”
“I said, I know the guy, and I told you I don’t work for him. What more do you want me to tell you?”
“I’m done with your attitude. I want to know everything you know about Mr. Stenholm, and I want to know it now.”
“Do you want me to talk shit about someone and make incriminating statements? I don’t do shit like that. You’ve got the wrong guy.”
Colton felt a cold, smooth, cylindrical object at the base of his skull and assumed it was a gun.
“Kid, this isn’t an arrest. It’s a job interview, and I don’t give a fuck about incriminating statements. Now, answer the man’s question,” said a deep baritone voice.
“Mr. Blackwell, if you know about Mr. Stenholm, then you probably know that my mom went missing for a year. She came back a few months ago with a serious drug problem. Mr. Stenholm makes drugs. I’ve been going to him for advice. Good enough?”
“Is that good enough, Mr. Blackwell?” said the deep voice.
“You’ve heard his answers, and you’ve heard my concerns. Your actions are of your own accord, Mr. Deso.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, always the lawyer. Thank you Mr. Blackwell, take off. I’ve got it from here,” said Mr. Deso.
“You know kid, I’ve never shot a man with one of these,” said Mr. Deso holding up an empty wine bottle. “It’s not even loaded.”
“I’m Victor. My father, Gianni, wanted me to come here personally and thank you for the information you gave Mr. Marshall. It was extremely valuable to our organization. But before I could make that a reality, you and your mom stole an O’Malley shipment from one of the toughest motorcycle gangs in the country. Trust me, Colton, if I wanted to get rid of you, I wouldn’t need this,” said Victor, holding up the wine bottle. “All I would need to do is tell O’Malley you were the one that made off with his product. I’m here to offer you a job.”
Victor placed his briefcase in the empty chair beside him.
“Consider that a finder’s fee for the O’Malley shipment. Take it, and you’re in. Leave it, and you’re on your own.”
The waiter brought a big, sizzling steak in a wooden encased cast-iron skillet with onions and a buttered potato before Colton could speak.
“Dig in,” said Victor. “You’ll never eat a better steak in your life. I have these flown in from Brazil. Dry aged, grass fed beef, I tell you, it’s worth killing the rainforest.”
As they ate, Victor treated Colton like family. Soon they were swapping stories, including a play-by-play of saving the two smelly bikers in Chicago. Once the plates were cleared, Colton took the briefcase and sat it by his feet.
“You know, I’ve got a good feeling about you, Colton. Maybe you can bring this pistol packing momma of yours up to Lincoln Park to meet the rest of the family.”
“She didn’t have a gun.”
“It’s just an expression, but seriously, you need to carry protection. Don’t buy a gun, ever. Mr. Marshall will supply you with one, learn how to use it, and always have it with you. Another thing, don’t be stupid with your money. Low profile, out of sight, out of mind,” said Victor.
“I would like to get a house.”
“One word, rent, not too upscale. I don’t want you tied down to a house. I want you to be mobile. In fact, if you have a fully furnished place, then all you need to do is throw your shit in the car and vamoose.”
“No problem, Mr. Deso.”
“You’ve got good manners. I like that Colton, but when it’s just you and me. Call me Victor.”
“No problem, Victor.”
“Good. Now if you will excuse me,” said Mr.Deso, standing up. “I’ll be leaving.”
Colton had the good sense to stand up as well. “Thank you again, sir.”
“1-800-Psychic-Hotline,” said Bernard.
“My name is Mr. Hot Shot. I’ve got a new job working for the Chicago Company. During the interview, they showed me pictures of my mentor and business partner. They wanted to know all about my partner and our business. I didn’t tell them, but just to be safe, I’m using a burner phone from the hotel elevator. What should I tell my business partner?”
“The cards say this is a bad day for doing business. The costs are too high. Pepper, your thoughts of good times passed and suspect a surprise on your doorstep in the morning.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mind Reader.”
“Live well, Mr. Hot Shot.”
The following morning, Deputy Rita Martinez walked through the front door of Luke Sherman’s home without knocking.
“Finally,” said Cassidy.
“What the hell is going on?” asked Rita the moment she saw Matt sitting on the couch.
“I told you we’re having a meeting,” said Colton.
“Why is he here, and who the fuck is she?” said Rita, pointing to Pepper.
“He’s here to work, same as you. She is Pepper. The newest addition to the family,” said Colton, handing her a bundle of cash. “I’m moving up, and that means you’re moving up.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“You don’t have a choice, Rita. Here’s the deal. Today I work for the mob. I know that people usually keep that information to themselves, but the way I look at it, we are all in this together. If you don’t know what’s going on, you could accidentally give me away and I can’t risk that. Everyone is on the payroll. As I get money, you get money. You’re on my team, I will take care of you, and I expect you to do what you’re told.”
“How do you know you can trust her?” said Cassidy.
Colton pulled out his cock.
“Rita loves dick.”
“Yes, I do,” said the deputy, crawling to Colton’s crotch, where she immediately began sucking.
“Does anyone else doubt that Rita is my bitch?” said Colton, putting his hand on Rita’s head. “I’ve rented a fully furnished home on the East Side. It’s not over in Meadowland, but it’s a nice place and it’s private.”
They looked up from the ongoing blowjob in surprise.
“It’s fully furnished. So pack light, take only what you need, but leave nothing behind, nothing. This means tough choices. All your souvenirs, mementoes, extra clothes and furniture needs to go to charity beginning, now. Tomorrow, a cleanup crew will be here to get what you missed and they’re bringing the shredder. Anything paper needs to be shredded. Anything with a memory card or hard drive gets shredded. A paint crew is coming in tomorrow evening and a grounds maintenance crew the following day. By this weekend, it will look like we were never here. Cass, you’re in charge. Do not waste time playing with Pepper and Stevie. Work now, and play later. Margo, you’re coming with me,” he said, pulling his cock from Rita’s hot, wet mouth.
“Is that for me?” said Margo, referring to the cage in the three-car garage.
“No, that’s for the Pig. I like you,” said Colton.
Entering the kitchen, Colton found a bright card that said “Welcome!” along with coffee and cookies left by the landlord.
“Why are you still wearing clothes?”
Colton watched Margo strip.
“These are just like you, completely worthless yet somehow irresistible,” he said, playing with her saggy breasts. “Don’t give me the long face. You’re a piece of goddamned property, Margo. I fucking own you. You’re no different from some stray that I’ve tied up in the backyard. Got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Except you’re better than a stray, aren’t you? Get on your knees. You can finish what Rita started.”
Margo knelt at Colton’s feet as he pulled out his erection.
“Tell me, Margo, about you and your boys.”
“It’s all Peyton’s fault,” she said, putting the cock in her mouth.
“He’s the oldest?”
“(Mmm, mmm.) He did me, (slurp) and then he made his brothers do it, (smack) so they wouldn’t snitch.”
“How did that start?”
“I woke up, and Peyton was fucking me.”
“You mean you passed out, and he raped you?”
“Don’t be mad. He’s my son.”
“Then he forced his brothers to rape you, too? Does Matt know?”
“Matt thinks it’s great, sir. He doesn’t want his boys growing up gay.”
“The same Matt Marshall that sucked off my sister’s girlfriend?”
“(pop!) What?”
“The little dark-skinned girl that sat beside Cassidy? That’s Stevie, and Stevie has a dick. My sister either let Matt, or made Matt suck Stevie off. It’s hard to tell, and really, I don’t fucking care. I just think it’s odd that Matt would be so concerned about his boys growing up gay that he wants them to fuck their mother. Does Matt tell you what to do with your boys?”
“No. He made Peyton my dealer. If I need a hit, I have to beg Peyton for it, and do whatever Peyton says.”
“What does Peyton do?”
“He likes to wrestle naked with me, and there’s this perverted wrestling move where he sits on my head and pins my arms with his knees. Usually, he passes gas in my face. Sometimes he holds my legs apart for the other two.”
“He watches while you get raped by Kyle and Taylor.”
“… yes.”
Colton laughed at the thought of Taylor humping his mother.
“Any of them fuck you up the ass?”
“They all have, but mostly Peyton. He’s obsessed with all things anal, just like his dad. Every day he shoves something new up my butt.”
“So he’s the one that destroyed your asshole?”
“When Peyton was born, it gave me a prolapsed rectum and Matt refuses to let me go to the doctor for it. Matt obsesses over my ass, and only wants to do anal. He’s got a big fucking cock, and he loves it when his dick pulls my prolapse out.”
“Except, he’s not the one wearing a plug to keep from shitting on himself. What if my sister forces Matt to wear a plug? Not just a regular one like yours, a big one. I mean, an extremely big one.”
Margo surprised Colton with a wicked laugh. It was good to hear it. Maybe she wasn’t as dead on the inside as she looked, after all.
“What else does Peyton demand?”
“He demands I give him rim-jobs, lots of rim-jobs. I’ve always got my nose in that kid’s asshole. I swear it’s like I’m the family dog.”
“You are the family dog, Margo. So your kid’s riding your face, naked. He’s wedged your nose up his hairy ass crack, he rips a rank one, and you’ve got to lick him clean?”
“… yes.”
“And you want to go back to that?”
“If I leave, they will think they made me run away. They will blame each other, and Taylor will get the worst of it. That happens way too much already. They’re my kids. Don’t make me abandon them.”
“Okay, Margo, how about this? You can have supervised visits with your sons where they can’t take advantage of you. Or, you can have conjugal visits with your kids, and you tell me all the details.”
“I want to be their mother.”
“Bullshit, Margo. You’re their victim, not their mother. I don’t care which one you pick, but if you don’t pick, you’ll never see them again.”
Margo tugged on the eighteen-year-olds cock. To her, Colton looked small, more like a boy than even her youngest. But Colton had money and followers, and more than enough power to own her. She put his cock back inside her mouth.
“I want an answer, Margo. You’re going to have plenty of opportunities to suck dick. I’ll put you to work at the Ho Row with Pauline Smalls. Matt can visit you there between tricks. You can tell your husband about all the dicks you sucked and make him jealous. Now choose, or say goodbye to your kids forever.”
“Con, conjugal visits… sir.”
“You are a dirty fucking slut, Margo. Never tell me about being a victim again.”
“Sir, if they are doing it to me then, maybe they won’t do it to someone else.”
“I hate it when you sluts use sanctimonious bullshit to rationalize your fucked up ideas. No. They’re spreading your damn hole because you want your hole spread. If anything, you’re letting them practice on you so they can become fully accomplished rapists when they’re with someone else.”
“All I’m asking for is honesty, Margo. If you want to raise your sons, you can have supervised visits. I’ll hire a psychologist to try to unfuck your fucked up life. Or you can keep fucking your kids just say, I’m a dirty fucking slut who wants to spread her hole.”
“I want my hole spread, sir.”
“Say, I’m a dirty fucking slut who wants to spread her hole.”
“I’m a dirty fucking slut that wants to spread my hole.”
“Then take this pill.”
“What’s that?”
“A lawyer I know has put me in touch with a private druggist that makes designer pills. This is meth with some other drugs in a time-release capsule.”
“I smoke my shit.”
“I understand that, but you’re too fucking skinny. This is drug replacement therapy with a twist. I’m not trying to get you clean, but I am going to put some meat on your bones.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because you’re my dog now, Margo. Everyone will know that Matt Marshall’s wife is Colton Sherman’s personal pet, because you’ll be wearing my dog collar. Understand this, if I owned a goddamned dog, I would take care of it, I would feed it, and I would fucking train it. You are going to walk around this town, looking good. That means getting healthy, getting a new fucking hairdo, and looking like a woman. I don’t know how I feel about the wrecked asshole, but I love these crazy saggy tits.”
Margo kept looking into Colton’s eyes with her awed expression as she put his cock back into her mouth. He felt the power of owning her. No mind control involved just his force of will, making a woman obey him like a well-behaved bitch. A power surge shot through his body throbbing his cock inside Margo’s mouth. He grabbed her head and began fucking her face. The abused housewife well accustomed to this kind of treatment, relaxed and let Colton’s cock slip effortlessly in and out of her throat.
“Goddamn Margo! You’ve got skills!”
Colton yelled before dumping his load deep inside her gullet.
“Good girl.”