Chapter 10

It's Monday, late into the night, a few minutes away from midnight, and Philip is glad he made the decision to stay at home. After such enjoyable last few days, he isn't in the mood to go out to the crowded and noisy After Eight bar, so two hours ago, he sent a message to Daniel excusing himself saying he's feeling a bit sick.

Ilene doesn't seem to have a problem with not going to Daniel's newfound job celebration at the bar. Wearing her old pajamas with a warm, brown pullover on top of it, she's busily ironing and folding the new clothes piled up on top of their dinner table.

Philip's in his even older pajamas, lying in the couch, watching a tennis match final on the television. The coldness tonight feels like the the worst ever this winter, so he grudgingly tries to get himself up to get a blanket, and maybe bring Ilene and himself a cup of hot chocolate.

Someone knocks on the door.

Surprised, Ilene asks Philip, "Are we expecting someone?"

"No," he replies. "It's fucking late. Who the hell could it be?"

Philip gets himself up, and carefully opens the door. He's shocked beyond belief.

"What the FUCK do YOU want?" he angrily asks.

"Easy there, kid!" Mariah says, smiling.

Philip is stunned. What the fuck is Mariah doing here? It's unbelievable. He remains still for a few seconds, staring at her in disbelief. The posh 39-year-old looks as irritating and arrogant as ever, with her scornful smile stamped on her lips, wearing an expensive fur coat on top of a teal blouse, a fuchsia skirt and high heels. Doesn't the fucking bitch feel the coldness in her legs?

"What ... What are you doing here?" Ilene asks, standing next to Philip, visibly alarmed by Mariah's presence at her doorstep.

"Relax, kids!" she says. "Believe it or not ... I'm here to personally apologize ... For what we did to you last week!"

Philip and Ilene remain incredulous, staring at Mariah.

"Are you serious? You have the ... The NERVE to show up here, at these hours, late into the night, and tell us you are sorry? Are you SERIOUS?" Philip asks, angry and nervous at the same time.

"I know, I know ... I just couldn't sleep, you know? That fucking bitch, that HORRIBLE slut, Agatha, SHE'S the fucking psycho, not me! I ... Look, can I get in? It's fucking freezing in here! It's probably not much any better in your ... apartment, or whatever you call it, but it beats this horrendous hallway!" Mariah laughs.

Philip looks at her with all the hate within himself. But maybe, just maybe, Mariah can soothe what Ilene went through. Maybe she can explain why that sick bitch did this to them, and why it won't happen again. He looks at Ilene. She can barely look at Mariah. She looks incredulous, hugging herself, fearful and nervous perhaps.

"C'mon guys! I just have to let this out of my head, and then I'll get the fuck out of here! Do you think I wanted to come to this shithole, unless I had to?"

Philip ponders again. Fuck it, it might happen that what she says can really help them put all of this shit behind them.

"All right, come in, and fucking tell us what you want to say!" Philip says.

"Why, FINALLY, thank you, my dear!" Mariah smiles, and hurryingly walks inside their cold living room. "First of all, a little amendment for what we did. I have something here for Ilene, yes? Can you come near me, my dearest?"

Ilene stares at Philip, both of them completely puzzled by the 39-year-old woman in their old apartment.

Mariah opens her purse and frenetically searches for something amidst what seems a bunch of stuff inside the silvery luxury. Philip and Ilene stare at each other, not knowing what the fuck this bitch has in mind to offer Ilene. Ilene walks next to Mariah, and stares down at her purse, curiously trying to see what Mariah's looking for.

Suddenly, Mariah takes a syringe out of her purse, forcibly grabs Ilene's arm, and abruptly sticks the needle in her arm.

"AAAAAuutch! What! You! What!" Ilene screams and panics, with Mariah grabbing her arm by force, keeping the needle skewered in her arm, through her brown pullover and pajama.

Philip's head seems to explode, his heart races as everything in his body tells him to knock the fuck out Mariah and take that needle from Ilene's arm. Philip walks towards Mariah, ready to punch her unconscious, with all of his strength.

"Easy, kid!" Mariah warns. "Do you want anything to happen to your precious girl, here?"

Philip stops. His heart sinks, his eyes focus on Mariah's thumb caressing the syringe's plunger. Whatever might be in it suddenly terrifies Philip to no end.

"That's right, kid! There's enough heroin in here to make her spit herself to death!" Mariah laughs.

"What? No ... No! Philip!" Ilene cries. She's shaking, trembling with pure terror.

"Ilene ... Stay calm ... I..."

"Shut the fuck up, you asshole! If you don't want your piece of shit girlfriend to have a hopeless ambulance ride to the hospital, you'll shut the FUCK UP!" Mariah warns, still playfully, but with a deadly undertone marking her every word with a tap of her thumb.

Philip himself can't stop trembling. His despair freezes him, unable to find a way to help Ilene.

"And you, too, you pathetic shit," Mariah says, looking at Ilene. "Now, take those cuffs from my purse, and throw them to your boyfriend there!"

"I ... I ... Philip?" Ilene cries uncontrollably, looking to Philip, expecting some kind of guidance, some kind of help.

"Do ... Do as she says Ilene ... Just ... Stay calm..."

Mariah slaps Ilene, hard, making her cry even more. Philip steps forward but stops, as Mariah looks at him, caressing the syringe's plunger.

"I'll tell you this only once more, you wimp. If you talk or whatsoever, I'll plunge this shit right into her. And I don't give a fuck, you know? Because, no one, I mean, NO one will care about a poor, pitiful, stupid junky girl dying in this fucking disgusting neighborhood. Now, throw him the fucking cuffs!"

Philip stays motionless. He has to, if he wants Ilene to stay all right. He can't do anything, but stay motionless.

Ilene, with shaky hands, takes the cuffs from Mariah's purse, and throws them over to Philip, who clumsily catches them.

"Now, take off your disgusting old pajama pants and whatever shitty rag you have beneath it, and sit in that couch, with your hands cuffed behind you," the older woman says.

Philip looks at her, angry, but with tears already falling from his eyes.

"C'mon, you piece of shit! Hurry up!"

Philip reluctantly strips down his pajama pants and boxers, and fumbles the cold cuffs on his arms, behind his back. He sits in the old couch, naked from his waist down, with tears in his eyes, looking at Ilene.

Mariah smiles, and letting go of Ilene's arm but keeping the needle in it, she takes her expensive cell phone from her purse.

"Yeah? C'mon up, my dear!"

A few moments go by, with Mariah blatantly looking at Philip, seemingly admiring his exposed genitals, her smile giving away her depravity.

And through the door that Philip didn't remember to close, Agatha comes in, with Theo by her hand. Philip is completely shocked. He looks at Ilene, and she's beyond petrified at this moment.

Agatha looks disgusted by what she sees. Her gray coat on top of her white floral dress accentuates her snobbish, arrogant expression.

"That's her, mom!" Theo exclaims, angrily pointing at Ilene. "She yelled at me! And she called you names! That's her!"

"I know, Theo," Agatha replies. "I know she did. I'll take care of her."

Agatha steps next to Ilene, and slaps her hard in the face. "So I'm a whore, you piece of shit?"

Ilene stands still, with no reaction to Agatha's hard slap, other than her tears from her eyes. Philip's about to get up and react, but Agatha immediately looks at him. She walks next to him, towering over him while he's seated in the couch.

"You move, she dies. You talk, she dies. Do you understand that, you pathetic wimp?"

Philip nods, crying.

"Put that girl behind me, on her knees," Agatha says to Mariah.

"Oh, I like the way you're talking!" Mariah says, the lilt in her voice showing how excited she is.

"Can I watch, mom? Can I? Yes?" Theo asks.

"Of course, my dear." The 41-year-old woman says.

Philip watches as Mariah forces down Ilene on her knees, right behind Agatha. Theo takes his pants down, leaving them above his sneakers, and sits next to Philip, stroking his little penis. Philip's mind is beyond shock and disbelief. The 14-year-old kid just dropped his pants and is stroking his dick, sitting in his couch right next to him, his arm rubbing on Philip's own as he fondles his small penis.

Agatha takes off her large coat and throws it to the ground. Reaching beneath her meager white dress, the shapely older woman pushes down her panties, and climbs on top of Philip, with her legs on each side of Philip's lap.

He can feel her breath hitting his face, through the cold air. He can feel her weight on top of him. His tears run endlessly down his face, with all the hate and despair he feels beneath this woman.

Spitting in her hand, Agatha uncaringly grabs Philip's penis and starts fondling it, up and down. Philip can't help but feel a rush of pleasure through his penis, hating each time the woman heartlessly fondles his dick with her wet, cold, uncaring hand. Her eyes penetrate his own, in total dominance, treating him like some object to be used at her will.

Every stroke of her cold hand seems to make him cry even more. Even the warmth of her naked legs against his own makes him realize even more her power over him.

"Look mom ... it's bigger than mine!" Theo says, staring at Philip's already hard penis, with his own small penis hard as well. He seems annoyed by having a smaller penis than Philip.

Endless shame joins his despair, feeling his dick hard in Agatha's cold, sticky hand. Theo looking at him makes it all feel even more sickening.

Agatha positions herself a few inches closer to Philip, grabs the couch by each side of Philip's head, and lowers herself.

"HHmmmm," she moans. Philip can feel her tight cunt engulf his penis beneath the white dress. He can feel her ass cheeks against his legs, as she pulls herself down on top of his penis.

Agatha commences to move her ass up and down, in a slow rhythm, making his penis penetrate her, again and again. Philip looks down, trying to look away from her relentless eyes, but all he sees is Agatha's well-rounded breasts, with no bra, barely covered by her scanty dress, only a few inches from his face.

"Mariah," Agatha says, between her moans, "Pull my dress, behind me, above my ass."

"Oh my, of course, my dear!" Mariah replies.

Philip can somehow see Mariah pulling up the back of Agatha's dress. He can see the depravation on Mariah's face, as her pull on Agatha's dress bares Agatha's ass. Mariah shamelessly stares at the ass, her eyes consuming the 41-year-old woman's ass. She licks her lips, visibly delighted by the look of Agatha's naked behind on top of him.

"Is that stupid bitch watching?" Agatha asks.

"Oh yes, my dear," Mariah says, clearly ecstatic, holding Ilene's head while she's on her knees behind Agatha. "I have her staring at your ass, with her nose right next to your delicious crack! She can see you up and down on her boyfriend's dick! Ha ha ha ha ha!"

Philip can hear Ilene sobbing, crying. Looking up, he can see some sort of a smile on Agatha. Some sort of debauched and malefic smile. The rage and despair he feels almost overcomes the overwhelming feeling of the 41-year-old woman moving up and down on top of him, ravishing his penis. Almost.

Her cunt is so tight. He feels his penis bursting; he probably has already let some liquids escape inside her cunt. He feels her ass touching his legs, again and again, the warmth of her legs rubbing against his own making her presence so very undeniable. His mind can't escape anywhere. He feels filthy, so very filthy, beneath Agatha's body.

And Ilene. Ilene is watching this slut on top of him, with her face forced inches behind Agatha's ass, right next to Agatha's cunt. This is beyond humiliation. He can't even imagine what Ilene's feeling, how bad, how low she must be right now, pressed on her knees, forced to see Agatha's ass, Agatha's cunt, on top of him, moving up and down, again and again.

Theo, sitting right next to him, is puzzled, watching his mother move herself up and down on top of him, while stroking his own little penis.

"Mom? Can I do it? Can I do it?" Theo asks, his voice impatient and strident as ever.

"Hmmmm ... Yes, you can, Theo. Hmmm ... Mariah, take care of it," Agatha replies, the moans in her voice denoting the pleasure she has each time she lowers herself on Philip's penis.

"Oh, this will be good!" Mariah says. Immediately, she forcibly pulls Ilene up by her long, dark hair, and lies her down on the floor, on her back.

Philip can barely see what's happening with Agatha moving herself on top of him, with her arms next to his head, but he realizes Mariah has grabbed Ilene's arms above her head, and is holding her on the old living room floor.

Theo gets up and kneels behind Agatha.

"No! Stop!" Philip can hear Ilene in despair, and immediately he sees Mariah slapping hard her face.

"Hush! If you say another word, you're dead! You hear me? Stay still, you piece of trash!" Mariah warns, again pulling both Ilene's arms over her head.

Agatha's moving up and down almost makes Philip lose control. The fit, elegant body of the older woman is driving Philip into madness. Her cunt is ravishing his penis, his mind, with waves and waves of unwanted pleasure, waves and waves of unwanted humiliation.

He's disgusted by Agatha. He's repulsed by her no end. He feels himself the lowest in his life for letting this filthy, depraved woman use him at her will. But, he tries to focus on what's behind. He can see that Theo has thrown clothes to the side. Ilene's pajama trousers and panties.

"AAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhh!" he hears Ilene cry. "Hmmmmmm ... No ... No ... Please ... No..."