Chapter 8

A long silence followed. Stace tried to ignore the worst possibility. Had he killed me? Fear drove her then. She slipped off of her bed and carefully opened her bedroom door.

“It’ll strengthen your neck muscles.” Terry spoke sternly in a soft voice from the living room.

What was happening?

Stacy slunk into the hall and along its shielding wall. She dared to peek into the room. She saw me with my head buried under his stomach. It slowly rose and fell. I was rapidly losing strength.

She guessed. Under the black intruder’s mass of fat I was blowing his cum soaked dick.

“Suck up every drop, Slut. This is what you should have done this morning, but you left me there with cum dripping into the cot and the blanket!” He remonstrated. “I had to clean that shit up and the fucking, upper bathroom!”

My daughter ducked back, fresh tears seeping out. Would the nightmare ever end?

“I saw you there, baby slut.” Terry’s sharp eyes informed his sharp mouth. “Look all you want. You’ve already done more than I could have asked for.” He laughed.

Stace ran back to her room.

After I finished cleaning every drop of Terry’s cum that had spilled out of my daughter’s mouth, he let me up. He even massaged my sore neck muscles. I hated him more for that. I couldn’t sit on the floor or even a cushion. My ass kept burning for hours.

At one point, I checked on Donald. He slept like the dead. If only. The awful thought floated through my brain. That might be a mercy. I made myself supper. Terry didn’t ask for any. That struck me strange. I’d never seen him eat. Why was he so fat?

After eating, I dared to approach my daughter’s door. “Stace?” I didn’t know what to say beyond that.

“Go away.”

“CUNT!” Terry bellowed from the living room. “And turn off the lights.”

He sucked on my tits that night before pushing me down onto his cock and falling asleep. I stared into the dark, hating myself for the comfort his arms gave.

In the middle of the night, his cum gushed me awake. I didn’t hesitate. I got up and started licking him.

“Good slut.” He patted me, half asleep.

I went to the bathroom and wiped myself. Stacy opened her door as I returned down the hall. “Mamma.” She held out her hand. We fell into each other arms. I was naked. She hadn’t changed out of her school clothes.

“Will he go away again?”

“I don’t know.”

“I acted awful, Mamma. He twisted me, with his words. I swear, I was trying to help.” She cried.

“Did you do the laundry?” I heard myself ask.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?” I hissed. “I have to work tomorrow. I can’t go in dirty clothes!”

“Mamma, why are you being mean?” She looked afraid.

“My boss is going to fire me, if I miss a day again.” I growled. “Don’t you understand?”

“I’ll go to the all night laundromat.” Stace looked at me as if I were a monster.

“You can’t go by yourself, this late.”

“I’ll go with her.” Terry roused his voice. “I’ll keep her safe.”

“You raped her!” I yelled, losing the my last bit of sanity.

“Get your cunt over here, and shut the fuck up.” He ordered before tumbling off the broken couch and struggling to his feet. He reached for his filthy clothes.

I went to him. I feared him.

“We’ll all go.”

I grabbed a pair of Donald’s shorts and a t-shirt, while my husband snored blissfully.

The time was half past two AM. We marched along an empty sidewalk for six blocks. Each of us carried a load of clothes. The night was too cold for shorts. I had suffered far worse that day. The laundromat’s bright lights and ice hard surfaces disincentivized most of the homeless. Terry roused three drunks and flung them back into the streets. We took over the place.

Stace challenged him. “I brought a blanket for you. So you can wash your damn clothes. You stink up our home.” She meant it literally and figuratively.

He laughed and looked at me. “Little bitch has a point.” He pulled the overstretched shirt from his back and dropped his pants. He never wore underware. Stace looked away. I wrapped him in the blanket.

We filled two big washers and waited.

Ten minutes into the soak cycle, Terry ruffled his blanket. “Get your ass under here.” He was sitting on a folding bench. I gave my daughter a helpless look.

She got up and walked outside. When she heard the villain grunting, she looked in on us. My head was poking through the blanket. My hands struggled to keep it around us while he humped his prick into my cunt, pushing me away and pulling me back with his hands. My legs were getting stronger at holding up his belly that flounced on my back.

The washers finished just before he did. Stace strode in as if nothing was happening. She separated the items into different temperature dryers. After paying the minimum to extract the water from our clothes, she strolled back out. By then I was sucking Terry’s cock clean.

The clothes came out damp, but we could hang the important ones to dry in time for work and school.

I was ironing my business suit at five in the morning, when Terry called to me. “Cunt.”

I woke three hours later, cum gushing into my stuffed sex. Climbing off, I turned and opened my mouth.

“Go.” Terry grumbled. “I’ll let you off the hook, this one time.”

I got to work, five minutes early. My phone rang.

“Mom. He’s taking a shower.” Stace reported.

“How’s your dad?”

“He’s up, but not happy. Terry told him to make me breakfast.”

I imagined our nemesis cramming himself into our tiny stall of a shower. I feared his weight might crack the catch basin.

She hung up before I could ask if she was all right. Of course she wasn’t, but a mother has to ask, no matter how stupid the situation.

I squirmed on my office chair all day. My ass was still sore. By the end of the day it was less so, but by then I was too antsy to sit still. When the big hand pointed exactly at five PM, I bolted out of the office, not caring if Melissa had more work for me.

I raced to the closest downtown LINK stop. I stood, unable to allow myself to rest.

Disembarking, I hurried home. I stopped in front of my door, keys in hand. Tears burned my cheeks, fearing the worst. I stamped my feet and plugged the key into the lock. Twisting, I pushed the door open.

Stacy and Donald sat at the kitchen table. He looked away when I entered. I had nothing to say to him.

“Mamma.” Stace trembled. “He said he was going to get me a job.”

I looked but didn’t see him.

“He left at noon.” My daughter’s words caused my legs to weaken from relief. I sat at the table and finally regarded my husband.

“Buy me a gun, Ruby.” His hands were just beginning to tremble from withdrawal. “I’ll do it without involving you. I’ll go to prison for you two.”

His erratic offer tempted me. “Where’s your credit card?”

Donald looked away again. “He took it.”

“We’ll report it lost. They’ll lock it out in a day.” Before making that call, I told Stace, “Don’t go to school. Don’t leave the house, until I figure out some way to protect you.”

Stace glared at me. I wasn’t sure why, but she glanced at her downcast father and shook her head. Had she not told him? I felt stupid for implying something had happened.

I called the bank and had them cancel my husband’s card. I told them not to replace it. Donald looked hurt. I ignored him.

Retreating to our bedroom, I shut them out and reverse dialed Terry’s phone call.

“Hello, Mulgrew’s Beds for Dollars.” It was the old man who thought I was a whore.

“I-is Terry there?”

“Nah. Ain’t seen him for a couple days. If you do, tell him one of the flops has work for him.”

“What kind of work would that be?”

He hung up.

I dared to go grocery shopping but told Stace to prop a chair against the front door. I splurged to try and break the desolate mood haunting our home. We ate roast chicken and green beans for supper with pound cake for dessert. My husband and daughter managed to exchange a few sentences while they washed the dishes.

I escaped into my bed and slept until, in the middle of the night, a dream of cum filling my pussy roused me. Donald was asleep beside me. I woke him with an attempted blow job. His cock never got hard. “I’m sorry, Ruby. I’m so cold!”

I went and brushed my teeth before returning to bed, facing away from my husband, but an hour passed before I slept again.

I took my time walking to work the next day. Terry sat on a box, at his usual street corner, shaking his cup of pennies. He pretended not to see me, but I felt his eyes. I leaned down to put a dollar in his cup. “I’ll never let you touch my daughter again.”

He grinned. “She touched me, Slut.”

“Get out of our lives!”

“Now how can I do that, when your husband needs the medicine only I can supply for free?”

“He’d rather die than stick another needle in himself, to protect Stace.”

Terry snorted. “Count the marks on his limbs.”

My anger dredged for something to anger him. “I cancelled the credit card you stole.”

He grinned and plucked the card from his jacket pocket. “I’m done with it.” He offered it.

I threw it away and stomped to the LINK stop.

About an hour before my work shift ended the phone rang. “Mom, there are movers here. They claim they were hired to take our couch away.”

Fucking hell. That’s what Terry charged against our credit! I hadn’t had time to check the bank’s log of card purchases. Then I thought, without a couch, Terry might be less likely to invade our home. “Check the walkway. If you don’t see Terry, let the men take it.”

“Uh, okay.” Stace didn’t sound happy.

Terry wasn’t on the sidewalk that evening. Seeing the empty corner gave me a foreboding urge to eat BBQ. I couldn’t shake the feeling for the rest of my walk home.

Our couch’s broken halves had been dumped on the street in front of our apartment. Real fear gripped me, and I ran all the way to our door. I got the key in the lock on the first try. Opening the door triggered a deep shout. “CUNT!”

Huffing, I sprinted into the apartment. “Stace?” I didn’t see her in the kitchen or the living room. I did see a brand new couch. It’s upscale design clashed with every other stick of furniture. It must have cost thousands!

I started for the hall.

“Get your cunt over here, Bitch! If you take another step, I’ll pound the daylights out of your ass. The baby slut is busy in the bathroom helping out the family budget. Don’t you dare disturb her!”

I froze, except for the warm tears that seeped out of my eyes.

The men sent to haul away our broken couch had been a ruse. They even wore a name brand mover’s uniforms. It’s possible they did work for that company, but they were doing this job for their own benefit. Terry had waited outside the apartment. The new couch was no ruse, but the when the movers returned with the replacement, Stace didn’t think to call me. She thought I knew about all of it.

After installing the couch’s final parts, they were professionals or so Terry claimed, they let him in. Stace ran to her room and put a chair behind its flimsy door. She yelled for her daddy, but he was shaking uncontrollably on our bed, almost delirious.