Chapter 24

“My mom tries to play with herself or sneak a dildo anytime she can!” I lied. My mom did like to play with herself, but she hadn’t been very sneaky as far as I could tell. I could have told Mr. Johnson the truth but I had already told his wife the lie.

“I KNEW IT!” Mr. Johnson slapped his knee as he turned onto 6th avenue to head into town. “My niece was just like that! She almost destroyed my marriage. She was young, and insatiable and she kept trying to suck my dick every time we were alone! How could I say no to a warm, sexy mouth like that?”

It turned out that was the story he wanted to hear anyway because it confirmed what he believed about his niece Michelle.

“That’s why you video tape her all the time. You want to be able to play it back and see if she steals something, or gives you the finger behind her back. She did once you know?”

“I know. I punished her for that,” I lied. I assumed he was telling the truth. I liked his reasoning behind recording my mom. It sounded a lot better than just selling videos that included him on Only Fans. I assumed he would be pissed if he found out. It was too late to tell him now though.

“Michelle was a nympho like your mom. She would fuck any man, any place, any time, anywhere and ANY WAY HE LIKED. She was a hot little biscuit with butter, let me tell you! Blonde, big butt, small tits but very firm!” Mr. Johnson seemed to be imagining his niece all over again. “She was also a klepto! Stole things she didn’t even need! Stuck them right up her you-know-what and walked right out of the store. Compulsive!”

I pretended that was my mom as well.

“I would have loved to see her behaving like your mom. I don’t think Michelle saw it as a problem because being a party girl opened doors for her, made her popular, got her high, and she didn’t have to work. The guys who fucked her didn’t see it is a problem either. How did your mom come to ask you to be the boss of her?”

“Honestly?” I asked rhetorically. “At first, she just wanted my help running the day-to-day things because she wasn’t paying rent on time, and she really just didn’t like making decisions like whether to pay a shade tree mechanic to fix the van or go to a reputable place.”

“You’ll like Gelling’s. I’ve known the owner for years. He doesn’t try to upsell anything,” Mr. Johnson told me that the garage we were going to pick up the van at was a good mechanic.

“I did a little research on them before we brought them there. My mom would have sucked a guy’s dick and slipped him a six pack of beer and seen if he could get it running,” I said. Now that was actually the truth. That was how my mom did business. I never thought about it before because I never knew the details, but my mom had obviously bartered in the past with the guy who came around to keep the van running. Which is why it probably broke down every three months. He just patched it up long enough to get it down the road a few more miles.

“I realized she was spending more time masturbating and not paying attention to what we had in the cupboard. I started taking over and we came to an agreement that I would punish her and tell her what to do, and she had to do it.”

“I wouldn’t have had the stones to do that to my own mother, but if my sister had been willing, I would have probably done that when we were in our twenties. She was one of those run-around girls who loved bikers. Let me ask you,” Mr. Johnson seemed genuinely proud of me and that flattered me – even though my story wasn’t quite true. My mom HAD asked to be trained by me but not because she was trying to stop being a nympho. “Does your mom ever refuse to do what you tell her? I would think she’d get bored or tired of it.”

“Yeah, after your wife spotted us outside, she kind of freaked out, and so did I. I thought you guys might call the cops. My mom used that as an excuse and for three days we went back to Loretta mode, and she basically masturbated non-stop, but eventually I turned the tables and gave her an attitude adjustment.”

That was a total fabrication of what had happened, and that is the problem with lies. You have to keep telling more and more to support the first one. However, Mr. Johnson liked it.

“Margaret was ready to call the law, the fire department, anybody! She was livid but mostly she was mad at me because she knew I had driven you some places, and I think she could smell your mom on me or saw her lipstick around my cock. Margaret is very sharp. Doesn’t miss a thing! That’s probably why she noticed your mom hid that vibrator in her ass. Does your mom really want to change and be a good woman?”

“No, I don’t think so, Mr. Johnson. I’ll be honest. I think we are past that. I think she knows she is a raging slut that gets turned on pretty easily. She just wants me to control and limit her from her own destructive ways and irresponsible behavior.”

“I wish my niece came to that conclusion. I can talk to my wife tonight, she’s a hard-ass but she is also incredibly lazy. Don’t say anything bad about her cooking or her house cleaning, but I saw her eyes light up when you offered your mom’s help pulling weeds and cleaning gutters.”

“Thanks, Mr. Johnson,” I replied.

I picked up the van, and the guys at the mechanic shop helped me get squared away. I don’t like driving. My mom usually drove the van. It’s wheelchair accessible which means that I can drive it without the use of pedals. It’s just a giant pain in the ass.

It was nice to finally have the van back. I could go anywhere. I could drive and get a bite to eat or go shopping or do whatever I wanted. One of the things about my mom driving was that I wasn’t the one to decide where we went. It suddenly dawned on me that even though this van was a gas-guzzling pain in the butt to drive – it was also a ticket to freedom.

It was a rusty old Ford Cargo van that was made before I was even born. It was retrofitted with a lift gate in the back, and the same is true of the hand controls. They had to be mounted on brackets, and when you push or pull them, they control the traditional gas and brake pedals at the bottom. That way my mom could also drive the car.

The real time-consuming part is switching them in and out, and that’s why my mom was the one to usually drive. I decided that would probably change soon. I stopped by Mac’s Hardware and picked up some installable hooks and some tools. I planned to ask Mr. Johnson to show me how to install some hooks, and then I could suspend my mother in the van when we drove.

As I was shopping, I checked my phone and saw that I had an email on my Only Fans account. I get 2-3 a day now, mostly telling me what a good job I am doing or asking us if we are for real. I even had someone tell me that Incest was illegal. I doubt anyone cares what two consenting adults do enough to prosecute us. We weren’t getting married and having babies.

I’ve seen plenty of Jerry Springers that involved Aunts, Uncles, and so forth, and Mr. Johnson apparently had sex with his niece.

This email subject line read “DISGUSTING” and I assumed it was going to be another nasty gram from someone telling me that our content was too hardcore or that incest was wrong.

It was from Miss Andry, one of my most active subscribers.

Hello Jerry,

I’ve been following your mom’s Only Fans since you mansplained how your business model works to me. It is disgusting, coarse, vulgar, and an offense to all women that reinforces that all women should just be subservient to men.

I am willing to discuss our offer to film content on the conditions that I am properly compensated, and that you understand that my participation is not condoning the idea that women are nothing without submission.

The name Dana was at the bottom, and the phone number was local. I immediately realized that Miss Andry was the girl from the novelty shop. I was surprised that she would want to be in our videos given what she just said. She was kind of hot, and I was interested. I pulled over and called her right way. I had plenty of time to get home.

“I saw you just read my email, and you called right away,” Dana said as she picked up on the first ring. I didn’t want to remind her that she must have been watching for an email read notification and waiting by the phone. I was trying to hire her after all. “Did you read it all or just see my number and call?”

“I read it all. I am not sure why you’d be interested in filming content with us?”

“Your mom is cool, and things are not working out at the novelty shop. They cut my hours way back, and I need to move out of my parent’s place,” Dana explained but added “not that any of my personal life is any of your business. It might even be illegal to ask that question on a job interview.”

If this was how she interviewed for a job, I could see why I might be a valid option for her. She probably tried a bunch of other places around Aberdeen, and they didn’t bite. I wasn’t sure I should either.

“I am not sure this IS a job interview. I just asked why you want the job. I didn’t ask about your personal life,” I reminded her. Dana didn’t say anything, but I heard her huff in the background. “You have seen our content. Is there anything you won’t do?” I asked.

“I am a woman who is capable of doing anything,” Dana assured me rapaciously. I felt like she was going to bite my head off for daring to ask the question. “Anything your mom has done or will do I would do.”

“How much would you want to film for an entire day? Just live like my mom all day and do what she does?”

“You should be paying us 100% of the profits from the site since you provide nothing, and we are the talent,” she said.

“Why don’t you just start your own Only Fans account?” I suggested. That seemed like it would be the simplest solution.

“Oh yes, that’s exactly what the patriarchy tells you to do. If you don’t like something just start your own business? It’s Aberdeen South Dakota. I don’t have anyone to shoot the film or any place to shoot it at, Jerry! Or I would do exactly that!”

I held my tongue, but I wanted to explain to her that the very reason she couldn’t keep 100% of the profit was some of that goes to the camera guy, producers, and studio. She would have just accused me of “mansplaining” again.

“My mom does get 100% of the profit, but we live together and share everything. Okay? I am not a greedy capitalist pig or whatever you think I am. I am just starting out, Dana. I’d love to have you come shoot some video, but I am hesitant to talk about percentages of income because I don’t know if you are even serious. How about at first just a flat rate or an hourly?” I suggested.

“$1000 a day,” she replied quickly before upping it to $1500 dollars.

“That’s a bit too rich for us,” I said. I had the money to hire her for a day, but I doubted that I’d get enough new subscriptions from her to make up for it.

“What did you think I would do it for? 7.25 an hour like that fucking creep at the novelty store? The minimum wage hasn’t gone up since 2009. It’s impossible to put gas in my car, much less get an apartment on my own on that and I can’t even get 40 hours,” she whined.

Dana was hot, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to listen to her personal problems. I doubted this was going to amount to much and I had my hands full with my mom. I had more pussy than I could ever unpack.

“I could probably do 100 dollars,” I offered.

“An hour? That might work,” Dana said.

“I was thinking for the day,” I replied. I realized I had just low-balled her. My mom got 80 an hour when we weren’t filming. I just thought a hundred dollars sounded like a lot of money for some reason. I’d never had a job before.

“You pig. Eight hours for 100 dollars? That’s like twelve bucks an hour,” Dana snapped at me and hung up the phone.

I chalked that up to a bad fit anyway. I had made a terrible offer, but Dana had over-reacted. I just needed time to think about my response and she wanted one right away. I would have probably come to the agreement that we could do $100 an hour and shoot as much content as we could in a short time.

I was used to being leisurely about it throughout the day and taking long breaks. I wasn’t going to call her back. The call did remind me of Sandra Smith, the girl the Only Fans called “Tater Tot”. I was close to the M&H gas station. I decided to drive by and see if she was there.

It would be obvious I was coming to see her. It’s a manual car wash so there was no way to drive through, and I couldn’t exactly get out and wash it myself. I can get out of the van on my own, but I always appreciate a little help. As I have said many times, it’s a real pain in the ass, and the liftgate gets stuck and wobbly.

I pulled into the M&H and rode around back looking for her. It was later in the day, and there was a light breeze. It looked like it might rain later. It was starting to turn overcast. I didn’t see her. I circled around once and then twice. I felt creepy waiting for her. Just as I was about to leave, I saw her pop out of a car.