Chapter 2: Scars

In DC’s bedroom, Pam was rubbing her hands together to warm up the next coat of massage oil. He was face-down and naked in their bed, with his shoulders and back already glistening from her loving attentions.

She had her shirt off, and her chest was also oily. She enjoyed rubbing her tits across his back as a special treat for him.

Because he had picked up some part-time work at the giant orange home improvement warehouse, DC would come home aching and tired from shifting lumber and heavy items from the store’s towering shelves. Pam appreciated his willingness to work hard for their benefit, keeping an eye on their shared future she hoped for.

She noticed something on his ass.

“Honey, what are these round scars on your butt? They’re like, maybe, the size of green peas. A bunch of them.”

“My father used to smoke cigarettes, Pam.”

“What? DC, you’re not making any...”

“OH, FUCK!”

In a flash, she was out the door running for the kitchen. He scrambled after her, paying no attention to being naked. By the time he reached the hallway between the kitchen and the bedrooms, he found her holding a huge chef’s knife with murder in her eyes.

He couldn’t quite manage to stop her because of the weapon, so she barged into Dale’s room, tearing away the covers from the bed and exposing his naked and broken body. Her voice was surprisingly steady, considering her emotional state.

“I am going to slice off your filthy dick, you monster, and feed it to you! You burned your own son! As a boy!”

She whirled on DC.

“HOW OLD?”

“Not sure, seven? Eight?”

She turned back and started advancing on the blubbering man. DC tried to put his arms around her waist to restrain her, but the slick oil defeated his grip. At the last moment, an unexpected reaction caused her to pause her attack just as she was reaching toward his waist.

Terrified Dale was pissing himself, causing Pam to retreat. She didn’t want to be splashed.

“Pam! Pam! Stop, PLEASE. You can’t go to jail for this! He’s not worth it. It was a long time ago. I love you. Stay with me; don’t kill him.”

“I could carve him up, some.”

Pam was starting to get control of herself.

“Oh, sweetie, that sounds like fun. Let’s go make some design sketches for the patterns.”

That helped, and Pam snorted.

“How did a man like you come from ... that?”

She spat the last word with ultimate loathing. Lynn was there by now (in her bathrobe) and had a response.

“He wasn’t always an asshole. But he turned rotten. If you cut him open with that knife, maggots might come out. Pam, he doesn’t deserve a view of your hot body. Come on, let’s get out of here.

“You, maggot, I’ll be back to clean you later. No! Keep your mouth shut if you want to live.”