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*Author’s Note: All persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
**Author’s note: This is not a stroke story. (Actually, I don’t think any of my stories qualify as a ‘stroke’ story.) It deals with Father/daughter incest, cuckolding, and the reaction to these abominations.
Ed Baggett sighed heavily as he dressed for the dreaded day ahead. It had been twenty six years since he had last seen Mickey Bernard and hoped he would never have to see him again.
But the Louisiana Department of Corrections as well as the Louisiana Department of Health and Human Services, in their finite wisdom, was actually considering releasing Mickey Bernard.
It was a four hour and forty minute drive from Bender Louisiana to Paulton, Louisiana, where Mickey Bernard was a guest of the North Louisiana Wellness Center.
Ed wondered when it had gone from being a nut house to a wellness center. Basically, it was a holding cell for the criminally insane. And Mickey Bernard fit the profile of the criminally insane.
He had murdered Jonathon Baggett, Ed’s father, and Kay Baggett, Ed’s sister, as well as Linda McCabe, Jonathon’s ‘friend.’
Ed smirked; even twenty six years later, he had a hard time admitting that Linda and his father had been much more than friends. Jonathon had left Beverly Baggett, Ed’s mother, for Linda.
“Be careful,” Daphne Baggett murmured from their warm bed.
“Sure you don’t want to come?” Ed joked. “There’ll be absolutely nothing to do and nothing to see and you’ll be bored out of your mind, I promise. Sure you don’t want to come?”
“Oh, gee, I’d love to,” Daphne lied. “But what would TeddiAnn do without me?”
“Go to school, then call us and tell us she’s going over to Sophia’s house and eating dinner there and is it okay if she spends the night because it’s Friday night and they can go straight from there to dance class and Miss Nicole and Mr. Fred say its okay and please?” Ed said.
“Yep, probably,” Daphne agreed, but did not budge from the bed.
Ed moved a hank of her long red hair out of the way and kissed her forehead softly.
“Love you,” he said.
“Love you too, coffee breath,” she said.
“Room to talk, morning breath,” he said and softly kissed her lips.
“Be careful,” Daphne urged.
“You too,” he said.
On the long drive, that took him through small town after small town, Ed had little to do but to think. His main thought was the same thought he’d had twenty six years earlier.
“Why?” Ed even said it out loud. “Why did you kill my baby sister? And my dad?”
The fifty two year old man stopped at a small diner that promised they had the ‘best chili in Stepping Stone, Louisiana.’
Ed ate a small bowl of ‘the best chili in Stepping Stone’ and a grilled cheese sandwich, along with a glass of flat cola. He wondered just how bad the second best chili in Stepping Stone had to be to lose to this bowl of chili.
A pharmacy a tenth of a mile later sold Ed a pack of antacid tablets and a can of cola.
“Bye now; y’all come back, hear?” the woman behind the counter intoned.
“Hope it’s not for another twenty six years,” Ed thought as he chewed three of the tablets and swished the soda around in his mouth.
An hour later, Ed pulled up to the building that housed forty seven of the criminally insane. The Building was a gleaming stainless steel and glass building and looked quite out of place in the thicket of woods. On either side of the facility were turkey farmers. As he approached the gate, Ed couldn’t help but think that his ten year old daughter, TeddiAnn would have loved to see all the turkeys running around, calling to each other.
The guard checked his name carefully, typed something into an electronic pad and had Ed sign with the electronic pen, then surveyed the grounds with a practiced eye before throwing the switch, opening the gate.
“Have a nice day, sir,” the guard said as Ed drove into the compound.
“Uh huh,” Ed said.
To Mickey Bernard, it was just another day. Another day of waking up in the sparse room. Of sitting up and putting his feet on the cold floor, then going over to the hole in the floor and relieving himself.
Prayers followed, and then he would sit and wait. Breakfast usually came an hour later, shoved through the slot at the bottom of the door.
Scrambled eggs, made from powdered egg, dry toast, two slices, and milk made from powdered milk, some watery juice and a mealy apple.
If it was Thursday, he would meet with Dr. Steven, no last name given, for an hour. If it was Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, he would go out into the yard for an hour, and listen to the non-stop cackling of the damned turkeys.
Then he would return to his room and sit.
“Bernard, coming in,” he heard one man call out.
“Okay,” Mickey responded.
“Against the wall, Bernard, kiss it,” the man said and Mickey heard the door click as a switch was thrown.
“Shower and a shave, Bernard,” one man said.
The other man stood back, hand resting firmly on his stun gun.
“Oh?” güvenilir bahis Mickey said, but no answer was forthcoming.
He blinked; the razor he was given was brand new, the can of shaving foam was full; the soap was still in its wrapper.
“Clean clothes, one of the men said, pointing to the coveralls hanging on the rack. “Put your old ones in the basket, hear?”
After he shaved his stubble clean and showered, he dressed in the coveralls. He smirked to himself; the new pair did not smell any better than the ones heed stuffed into the basket. They still smelled of the industrial cleaner the Center used to wash the clothing, the bedding, the floors and the walls.
“Come on,” one of the men barked impatiently and Mickey was led back to his cell.
He sat and sat and waited. To Mickey, this was the hardest part; the sitting and the waiting. The sounds, he had learned long ago how to tune them out. The smells were all masked by the industrial cleaner. There was nothing to look at; just pale gray cinderblock walls.
Lunch, a bologna sandwich with a slice of processed cheese, more powdered milk, a small amount of stale potato chips and another mealy apple was shoved into his cell. Mickey ate the sandwich slowly, chewing each bite twenty times, ten chews on the left side of his mouth, ten times on the right side. He did not look at the food; he had not liked bologna when he had arrived at the Wellness Center twenty four years ago, and still did not like it. He did not like sour cream and onion flavored potato chips twenty nine years ago, and still did not like it. He had not liked powdered milk then, and still did not like it.
“Bernard, coming in,” he heard and was genuinely confused.
Okay,” Mickey called, facing the wall away from the door.
His hands were cuffed behind him, and then his legs were shackled. He wanted to ask; he was sure it was not Thursday, and even if it was Thursday, he still had a few more hours before it was time to meet with Dr. Steven. But he did not ask, knowing he would get no answer.
“Come on,” the man said and Mickey followed him.
They went down a corridor, and then another, then the man stepped to the side and indicated a door.
There were five people in the room; three men in ill-fitting suits, Dr. Steven, and a fifth man that Mickey knew he should know, but could not place.
Dr. Steven said a few words, then the man in the ill-fitting brown suit said a few words, then the man in the ill-fitting blue suit said something. Mickey just tuned them out; they sounded too much like the man in the room four doors down; always talking about his business empire he was going to build when he got out.
“Mr. Baggett?” he heard someone say and the man that seemed familiar to Mickey sat up a little straighter.
Baggett. As in Jonathon Baggett. As in Kay Baggett.
Mickey swiveled his head and looked at the man.
“Yes?” he heard the deep voice ask.
“Would you like to add anything?” the man in the ill-fitting own suit asked.
“No, not really, I mean, y’all pretty much covered it,” Ed said. “What he did took a lot of planning; wasn’t like it was accidental and y’all already said he’s real smart so he knew what he was doing and how to do it.”
Ed turned and looked at Mickey for the first time since Mickey entered the room.
“Something I would like to know, though, is ‘Why?'” Ed asked Mickey directly. “Why’d you do it?”
“Why’d I do what?” Mickey asked, confused.
“Kill my little sister; fuck! She was only nineteen! Why’d you kill my dad? What’d he ever do to you?” Ed bellowed, startled by his own anger.
Mickey wrinkled his brow, concentrating.
“I’ll tell you, best as I know,” Mickey finally said. “Remember, though, a lot of this is just what your sister and your dad told me so it might not be totally right.”
Robin Baggett smirked as she let Frank Jennings in. Her father hated the loud, arrogant twenty years old, especially hated that Frank did not work for him so he had no control over the man.
“Ready?” Frank asked, smirking in self-confidence.
“Oh yeah!” the pretty blonde laughed joyously. “I was born ready!”
“Come on, then,” Frank said, marching down the hall toward Jonathon Baggett’s office.
“Hey, old man!” Frank flippantly greeted Jonathon.
“Yes?” Jonathon asked, looking up from his Wall Street Journal.
“Listen, me and Robin? We um, we planning on getting married, hear?” Frank smirked.
“I don’t think so,” Jonathon said easily, putting his paper down and smirking at the youth.
Frank’s eyes flashed in anger; he had expected anger, raised voices, even violence. This calm refusal had not occurred to him.
“There is no way in hell I would let my daughter marry a loser like you,” Jonathon continued, getting to his feet. “But, you may go now; thank you for stopping by.”
“Fuck you, old man!” Frank bellowed. “Why don’t you suck my dick, huh?”
Kay gasped as she peeked into his father’s study. She couldn’t believe anyone would dare talk to her father like that… He owned the mattress türkçe bahis factory, the primary source of employment and income in their small town. The crawfish ponds and farms had all gone bankrupt, unable to compete with the farms of Breaux Bridge and Butte La Rose and Henderson.
“I don’t work for you; you can’t tell me what to do,” Frank said, thrusting his chest out defiantly.
“That is true,” Jonathon agreed mildly.
“But,” Jonathon continued, sitting on the edge of his desk and smirking at his daughter. “Fred Jennings, your father does. Freddy Junior, your older brother does.”
Robin paled as she watched the entire swagger being stripped away from her boyfriend.
The main reason she had picked Frank was because he did not work for her father and said he was not afraid of her father.
“And your younger brother, Rickey?” Jonathon Baggett went on. “Such a fine young man; too bad he’s retarded. But let me tell you; that boy comes in every morning with your dad, doesn’t even need to be told what to do; just goes and grabs his broom and his dustpan and starts sweeping up the scraps.”
Robin felt like throwing up; she could see Frank melting right before her eyes.
“Called him into my office two days ago; he was almost crying, thought he might have done something wrong,” Jonathon continued. “Did start crying when I gave him a ten cent an hour raise.”
“Yes sir,” Frank mumbled.
“Now, what you think would happen if I called him into my office and told him, gosh, I’m real sorry, but because your brother said ‘fuck you’ to me I’m going to have to let you go?” Jonathon said, getting to his feet and closing the door that Frank and Robin had barded though a moment earlier.
Kay watched from the crack in the second set of doors.
“Please don’t…” Frank mumbled, close to tears.
“I mean, Fred and Freddy Junior will understand, won’t they? Frankie’s a dumb ass punk, running his mouth, what can you do about that, huh?” Jonathon continued sitting on the edge of the desk again.
“Daddy, please don’t…” Robin said, tears running down her face.
“I’ll deal with you later,” Jonathon said calmly. “For right now, though, I need to deal with this piece of shit you dragged into my house.”
“Daddy I…” Robin stammered.
“Tell you what, Frankie,” Jonathon said. “You told me to suck your dick. Why don’t you suck mine?”
“What?” Frank stammered.
“What you say, Frankie? Suck my dick? I’ll let Rickey keep his job?”
“Please don’t…” Robin begged.
“Sir I’m sorry…” Frank mumbled.
“I mean, hey, seems to be a fair trade; you suck my dick, your dad and your brothers keep their jobs and everybody’s happy, right?” Jonathon smiled.
Kay clenched her jaw tightly as she watched her father unzip his trousers and pull out his cock.
Frank was sobbing as he knelt down in front of the powerful man.
Robin felt sick as she watched her boyfriend begin to suck her father’s cock.
‘Oh, come on!” Jonathon said gruffly. “Your family’s livelihood is on the line here and that’s the best you can do? Come on! Suck my cock like Robin sucks yours, huh?”
Robin turned and vomited into the wastebasket at the side of her father’s desk.
“Oh, that’s much better, yeah, almost like you like it, huh?” Jonathon encouraged.
He thrust his hips, driving his cock into the back of Frank’s mouth.
“That it, Frankie?” Jonathon taunted. “You like it? You like sucking cock?”
Frank protested around Jonathon’s cock as Jonathon kept driving it into his throat.
“And here you go, Frankie; some spunk for you to chew on,” Jonathon groaned as he pumped his seed into Frank’s mouth. “Swallow it, you hear? Better not spill a drop of it, you hear?”
“You go to your room,” Jonathon commanded his daughter.
“And, you,” Jonathon said, zipping up his trousers. “Get out. I ever see you around my daughter again, I’ll make this look like a walk in the park for you, you hear?”
Kay scampered away just before the sobbing Robin burst through the doors.
Kay ran to her bathroom, locked the door, and wiggled out of her jeans. Two strokes of her throbbing clitoris and the grossly overweight girl grunted in orgasm.
Jonathon calmly finished reading his newspaper, folded it and set it aside, then left his office.
“Daddy, I…” Robin stammered when he came into her room.
A sharp slap to her face silenced her.
“Off,” Jonathon said, nodding his head.
“Daddy, please, I…” Robin said.
Another slap to her face and she began to peel down her snug jeans.
“Please tell me you you’ve been using a condom while fucking that piece of shit,” Jonathon said, looking at her hairless slit.
Robin just sobbed harder.
“Ah, here we are; you know? Should have done this to Frankie; bet he’d just love that,” Jonathon said as he grabbed the jar of petroleum jelly from Robin’s dresser.
“Please, Daddy,” Robin begged as she got on her knees on her bed.
Later that night, Kay woke up to hushed, urgent voices. She stepped out of her bedroom, dressed in her flannel güvenilir bahis siteleri nightgown and tiptoed to the stairs.
“Yes, I went in to check; I check both my girl’s bedrooms before going to bed and saw that she wasn’t there, Jonathon said.
“Uh huh,” Sheriff Ronald Monroe said, scribbling in his pad.
“Please hurry,” Beverly Baggett implored the police officer.
“Yes ma’am, any idea what she might be wearing?” Ronald asked.
“Jeans and a black fuzzy sweater, what do they call that? Velour. A velour sweater what she had on earlier,” Jonathon offered. “They’re not lying on the floor of her room; swear she has no clue where dirty clothes go.”
Early the next morning, before the sun came up, Kay was again awakened by murmuring voices and her sister’s loud, drunken screams.
“He’s been fucking me up the ass!” Kay heard. “Huh? Isn’t THAT against the fucking law? Fucking your own daughter? Up the ass?”
Kay heard more murmuring.
“Oh, fuck you! Supposed to be a fucking police officer; can see you’re just another one of his cock suckers, fucking piece of shit, oh shut up mother! Sit by while he rapes me?” Kay heard Robin scream.
“I’m twenty fucking years old! If I want to leave this house, I can! I’m an adult!” Kay heard louder as Robin stomped up the stairs.
Kay knocked on Linda McCabe’s door and waited.
“Ah, come on in, Honey, how are you?” Linda smiled as she ushered the girl in.
“I’m fine,” Kay mumbled.
Kay was intimidated by the gregarious Linda, more used to her mother’s mild demeanor. Compared t Beverly, Linda seemed worldly, experienced, and sensual. Kay wished she could be more like Ms. McCabe.
“So glad you could do this,” Linda said as she slipped on her stiletto heeled pumps.
She leaned close to Kay.
“Boyfriend called at the last minute, says he’s about to bust he needs some pussy so bad,” Linda confided. “And I told him ‘Honey, I understand totally! I need some dick so fucking bad I’m about to bust!'”
Kay giggled nervously.
“Now, Sammy and Joey go to bed at nine, but you already know that, got to go,” Linda said, grabbing her purse.
“Love married men,” Linda confided. “I get the dick and someone else gets all the shit. Bye!”
She pressed her lips on Kay’s for an intimate kiss and then left.
“Hi, Sammy, Joey,” Kay said as she nudged the door of their bedroom open.
“Hi Miss Kay,” Joey, the talkative one answered.
They were good boys, playing quietly until bath-time.
“Mommy bathes us one at a time,” Sammy offered.
“Mommy’s a lot more used to this than I am,” Kay agreed.
She needed the money; Robin had busted into her piggy bank, stealing over two hundred dollars, two hundred dollars Kay had been putting toward joining the gym in DeGarde.
“Where’s Miss Robin?” Joey asked again.
His crush on the pretty woman was obvious. Kay was used to that; everyone seemed to be more attracted to her older sister.
“I don’t know,” Kay answered truthfully.
Robin had stolen as much money as she could from Jonathon’s office, Kay’s piggy bank, and Beverly’s purse, then drove away in Beverly’s car.
The car was located several hours later, a block away from the Lafayette Greyhound bus terminal. The clerk behind the Greyhound counter did not remember selling a ticket to a pretty blonde so the trail ran cold.
“She’s pretty,” Joey giggled.
“Yeah, she is,” Kay agreed.
“But you’re pretty too,” Sammy offered.
“Why thank you!” Kay smiled at the boy.
Linda breezed in at eleven thirty, clothes and make up a mess, smiling from ear to ear.
“Damn, I think I’m in love!” she confided to Kay. “Got time for a little wine?”
“Um, just one, then I got to go,” Kay decided.
“I mean, damn, he has got a cock!” Linda said, pouring them each a glass.
“And shoot!” Linda went on. “Fuck, stuff’s running down my leg right now!”
To prove her point, Linda lifted the hem of her skirt and showed Kay her pussy.
Kay stared. The hair on Linda’s head was a luxurious blonde, but the pubic hair she was staring at was a deep brown. Her pussy lips protruded from the thick mat of hair and Kay could see that there was a good amount of silvery looking stuff running down the insides of Linda’s thighs.
“Ever seen that much jizz?” Linda hooted.
“Um, no, no ma’am,” Kay confessed. “I’ve never…”
“Oh!” Linda chuckled. “You’re a virgin?”
“Um, yeah, yes ma’am,” Kay confessed.
“Oh Honey!” Linda said. “Oh, wait until I tell my man! Oh, he’s going to want to fuck you for sure!”
“What? You can’t…” Kay stammered.
“Oh yeah, my lover? He wants to fuck you, says he would kill to be able to sink his cock in that sweet young pussy of yours,” Linda went on.
“What?” Kay gasped, shocked.
“Told him, I get to taste that hot little box of yours first, though,” Linda said and planted a hot kiss on the stunned girl’s lips.
“Ms. McCabe!” Kay gasped.
“Oh, come on, Honey, call me Linda!” Linda enthused.
“Ms. Linda, what…” Kay protested.
“Shit, Honey, why you think I wanted you come over tonight?” Linda crooned, taking Kay’s face in her hands. “Little bitch next door would have baby sat for two dollars an hour, but it’s you I want; not that little slut.”
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