Walkthrough
Chapter Five
I guess it’s good to stay busy. My school, job, and homework gave me valid reasons to keep a little breathing room between me and mom. Our daily interactions had returned to more or less normal. The 500-pound gorilla was still in the room, but we had covered it with a duvet that matched the drapes. Of course, until now:
“Todd! I’m not the damned front desk! Give that bitch your fucking phone number!”
“I gave her my number, she insisted.”
“Then why the hell is she calling me to arrange your dates?”
“I’m not dating her.”
“Apparently, you are. The general is still away, and she’s lonely.”
“Okay, I’m tired of trying to memorize the names of bones, anyway.”
“There’s only one bone you think about.”
“If you’re talking about my dick, it doesn’t have a bone,” I said, rubbing my temples.
“You could’ve fooled me, as hard as that thing gets.”
Wait what? I looked up from my notes, but mom had already gone. Was she, did she just flirt with me?
“Aggie, should I chase after mom, or go see Connie?”
Constance Whatcom has vital information for the next level
“More vital than getting laid?”
Constance Whatcom has vital information for the next level
Ugh! It’s a fucking conspiracy! I tell you this damned app doesn’t want me to get laid. Maybe it’s only got a problem with me getting laid by my mother… hmm, now there is a conspiracy theory.
“Aggie, are you now, or have you ever been, an agent for the Fuckers against Mother Fuckers?”
Connie has vital information for the next level
“You’ve got no sense of humor. You need to work on that, Aggie.”
“Here is all the information I have on Romeo Company, sir,” said Connie Whatcom, standing at the entrance of their million-dollar home in the exclusive, Greenbrier neighborhood without a stitch of clothing on.
“You did well. We need to go to the playroom.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, looking at the video cassette tapes in my hand.
“Now,” I said, just to put her in gear. “And Connie, don’t turn on the lights.”
Connie stayed put at the top of the steps as I silently felt my way around down below, hoping against hope that the assumed 24-hour surveillance didn’t include night vision or thermal imaging capabilities. I had to find three tapes, swap them with the tapes I had brought from the thrift-store, and leave without getting caught.
Who’d thought that a life of video gaming would ever come in handy? For example: I knew better than to move the chairs. The last thing I wanted was to have a surveillance tape that went black in one frame with a chair that has magically moved when the lights come back on. To orient myself, I carefully reached out for the outer wall when my hand came to rest on a scrotum and a pair of hard balls. I’d like to say that I felt those balls with confidence, and I responded appropriately to the situation. Nope, I jumped three feet in the air, yelped like a coyote and landed on the floor, bashing my head against the corner of the conference table.
I had forgotten about the shelves of sex toys. They are everywhere, and the slightest touch would topple the bunch with no way of putting them back exactly as they were. I lay there in the dark, applying direct pressure to the gouge in my head. Now, I’m praying that the surveillance, if it exists, doesn’t have audio. I wonder how many bloody finger prints I’m going to leave behind, before I get out of the general’s funhouse.
Now, I wish I had oriented myself with the floor from the beginning. It was much easier to find my way around feeling the edges in the tile. I worked my way back and forth from the conference table legs to the racks of tapes, one handed. My left hand was a designated compression bandage. Eventually, I found what I believe were the three tapes that Aggie wanted with no further incidents, climbing back to Connie with blood trickling down my arm.
“Oh, my god, you’re hurt!”
“It’s a head wound, Connie. They always look a lot worse than they are. I’ve kept direct pressure on it, and as soon as I get home, I’ll clean it up and dress it.”
“You’ll do no such thing. I can clean and dress a wound with the best of them.”
Connie took me into the bathroom.
“Let’s see what we’ve got,” said Connie as I sat on the commode. “Oh, you did a number on it. I’ve got suture tape, but I’ll have to shave your head.”
“No, Connie, no head shaving today,” I said, looking at the razor in her hand. “Just clean it and put a gauze bandage on it. I’ll hold it in place.”
Brave words, but driving home, I had to hold the steering wheel with my left elbow. I shifted the gears with my right hand and watched the road out of the corner of my left eye.
Mom’s absence made getting in the house with my materials and injury a breeze. However, it also meant that a woman, weighing 125 pounds, was driving around town in a two-ton automobile with a blood alcohol content that’s easily twice the legal limit. Yep, how she does it and keeps from getting caught is beyond me.
Connie was right. The cut in my scalp needed attention. Fortunately, I had a suture stapler from class. I know they show the hero sewing himself up in the movies, and I was just like that… except I whined like a little bitch. The good news is I can cover the cut with my hair.
I had purchased a VHS to DVD converter at the thrift-store, to change these tapes into something I can use. Sadly, the VHS converter works only in the “play” mode. It will take four fucking hours per tape providing my thrift-store find works.
The toast for my pimento cheese sandwich had popped up when mom fumbled through the door. I almost asked where she went when she sat two new six packs of Koors on top of the lettuce I had washed for my lunch.
“Honey, put those away I got to pee,” she said, hurrying out of the kitchen.
“No problem.”
Over the years, I have come up with a theory that alcohol acts on the brain, similar to how resolution acts in an image. A normal sober brain sees the world in 250 million colors. After 3 “delicious” Koors, the brain sees the world in 16 thousand colors, and after 3 more Koors, the brain can only see the world in 8 colors.
But the brain of the Koors drinker believes the opposite is happening. To it, the sober world is dull and monochromatic. But, by drinking just one beer, it can see in vivid color. After three more beers, music and laughter appear in its world of beautiful hues. And by drinking another three beers, deep secrets of universal truths reveal themselves to the Koors drinker and them alone. They must go out and share this new information with the world just as soon as they have another beer.
So, sure, I could yell at mom for putting her dirty beer cans on my lunch, but I would be arguing with a woman who only has 8 crayons in her box, but thinks she’s the Dalai fucking Lama. Drama adverted by the availability of a restroom and my ability to maintain my cool and re-wash my lettuce. We sat down together to watch daytime TV when Aggie saved the day and my mood.
use 100 dollars to buy a blowjob from mother
Alright Aggie! That’s the best idea she’s come up with in a while, except I didn’t have 100 dollars.
100 dollar bill in the Bible under TV
How does Aggie know where mom hides her money? Whoa, this walkthrough is some next level shit. The question is; how do I get mom out of the living room long enough for me to get the money without getting caught? Okay, just like a video game, I have options. I could get mom a drink, but she just went to the toilet. By the time she has to go again, she might be too drunk. I could badger mom until she leaves, but that would aggravate her and she won’t blow me. Aha!
“Was that your phone?”
“What?”
“Oh, I’m sure it was nothing. I heard a noise that sounded like your ring tone, but you’ve got your phone with you, right?”
“Oh shit,” said mom, patting her pockets for her phone.
As soon as mom went for the bedroom, I headed for the Bible in the bookcase under the TV. There I found, as Aggie predicted, a forgotten 100 dollar bill sitting there just for me.
“No calls, but thanks. I totally forgot where I put my phone. I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached.”
“Speaking of head,” I said, holding up the money.
“Todd, no, I just got home.”
“But you haven’t had lunch. Aren’t you hungry Rita? Don’t you want to suck it? You know you love it, Rita.”
“You’re a nut.”
“Nope, I’m a squirrel looking for a nut, Rita,” I said, rubbing against her.
“Well… my show’s on,” she said, looking at my crotch.
“You can watch and suck. Here, I’ll scoot like this, and see, you can put your head there and watch TV while you do it?”
My heart skipped a beat when mom took off her cardigan. Saying no more, I pulled my sweats and boxers off. I was so happy that mom giggled when my hard-on sprung out of my clothes.
It can’t get any better than that. My mother, with her head in my lap, slowly sucked on my cock while she watched her soaps. I kind of zoned out from the prolonged, intense pleasure. Mom wasn’t trying to make me cum. She was trying to watch her show. The result was a slow blow job that rose and fell with the action on the screen. All too soon the credits were rolling and mom focused on getting me off.
increase Rita Cella corruption 3% by playing X-rated movie
Oh, hell yeah, Aggie is singing my song! I lazily worked the remote while mom was popping the head of my cock in and out of her throat. Soon the room was full of moans and groans from the people fucking on the wide-screen.
“Todd! Turn that off!”
“We watched your show. Now it’s my turn.”
“Well, at least turn it down. I don’t want the neighbors to hear that.”
turning up volume increases Rita Cella’s corruption by 5%
Aggie understands mom. I would have blindly obeyed, but who knows when to fight with a woman or when to go along with them to get the best results? I’m so glad I’ve got Aggie.
Mom didn’t argue when I turned it up, probably afraid it would get even louder. Instead, it looked like she was mentally trying to block out the sounds of sex while she was sucking on my dick. It’s now a contest. How horny can I get my mother? Before I lose control and dump another load of cum down her throat. As the ladies on the movie moaned, I massaged mom’s tits, but what got her going was when I pulled her hair and fucked her face.
Suddenly, mom smacked my hand hard, and came off my cock gasping for air with this possessed look in her eyes. She didn’t even bother to undress. She pulled up her skirt and pushed her panties to the side before impaling herself with my cock. Now this was fucking! And it was fucking great! Her pussy was warm and tight. I felt its wetness against my balls, as the wool material from her skirt tickled my legs.
“That’s it. Fuck me Todd!” she demanded, bouncing up and down. Her fingers had become talons digging into my flesh. “Oh fuck! You’re so hard! Harder baby, harder! Fuck me like a man!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Aggie flashing.
cause Rita Cella’s orgasm by spanking her ass
In my mind, too many things were happening at once. First, I was about to cum, second mom was trying her best to break my pelvis with her pussy, and lastly I didn’t understand Aggie’s message was I supposed to…
“OW!” I yelled as mom bit into my neck. Out of reflex, I smacked the living hell out of her leg. The moan I heard told me all I needed to know.
“You like that, mom? Well, here’s another!”
I began thrusting my hips up to meet her pussy on her down stroke, speeding up the action as I pulled up her skirt to give me better access to paddle her butt. In just a few seconds more, mom began quivering and convulsing on top of my body. I’d done it. I had made a woman cum. Yes! I made a woman cum with my dick. It felt like I was hyperventilating a little. In my light-headedness, the room spun. I could feel mom’s pussy muscles pumping my dick. I came like a madman, pulling her thighs tight against mine, shooting my seed as deep as it would go.
We lay with me inside her for the longest time, with the howls of porn haunting our embrace. I felt my legs ache and then go numb, but I didn’t care. I would rather lose my legs than let go of her.
“Thank you baby,” said mom. She kissed my wounded neck and left to take a shower. Her absence took all the warmth of my world away, leaving me and my wet cock to dry in the cold loneliness, too dazed to move.
The first of three VHS tapes had ejected from the converter. I inserted a blank disk and another tape, taking the DVD copy and sliding it into my laptop and pressing play. The scene opened immediately from the vantage of a hand-held camera inside a military office space. Wade Smith was sitting with his feet on a metal desk to the left of the screen. In the background, I could see a very agitated and angry James Jackson. The audio began off camera.
“What the hell are you doing at my desk? And who the hell are all these people? Answer me sergeant!” said a young Harold Whatcom, walking into the scene.
“Me and the boys wanted to welcome the new office-bitch.”
“You’re on report, mister!” said Harold.
“Easy now,” said Wade, getting up from the desk. “You don’t want to do something you’re going to regret. Because we’re about to initiate you into our gang,” said Wade, before smiling up at the much larger James. The camera panned to the left. A young black woman with long straightened hair and large breasts came in to the frame.
“Major, I’d like you to meet Donita Jackson. She’s the wife of Corporal James Jackson and kind of a gang favorite.”
James shook his head, very unhappy with the situation, yet his wife seemed oddly okay.
“Brother man, I gotta skip the script. I’ve been holding this back forever,” said Wade to James. He then looked at Donita and purposely said, “Ping, green, pong.”
I couldn’t believe what I saw. Donita went blank like someone shut off the switch inside her head. Wade made her get on her knees and open her mouth while he floundered with his fatigues. Although I couldn’t see what was happening, the unmistakable sound of pissing gave it away.
“Aaaaaah, yes, you know she loves it, man. She don’t spill a drop,” Wade said, teasing James. The moment James cracked a grin, Wade started up again.
“Do you still kiss her? I mean, I clean my toilet with Chlorocks, does Pepsident have a chlorine variety?”
“Fuck you, man,” said James.
“No really, brother man, do you kiss my toilet?”
“I’m telling you, man!”
“Telling me what?” said Wade, buttoning up his pants. “That’s what I thought,” he said the moment James backed down.
“See Major, even James is smart enough to keep his shit in check. But just in case, you’re not a smart guy. We brought you a present. Her name is DUMPY.”
Aldo led Connie into the room by a leash attached to the collar around her neck. She was naked and covered in filth.
“What have you done with my wife?”
“Whatever we wanted… get used to it. Your wife is your dues. Everyone gives their wife to the gang. Of course, you could turn us in, but then you’d have to prove it. And in the meantime, who is to say that DUMPY doesn’t set the bed on fire with you in it? I’ve watched men burn to death. Not exactly how I would want to go. So are you in the gang or are you going to be a problem like the last fucker we had?” said Wade, handing the leash to the major.
“Ping, green, pong! Ping, green, pong! Ping, green, pong,” said Harold in desperation.
The gang laughed.
“That’s not her trigger phrase, major. You join our gang, you get dirty, and you get DUMPY’s trigger phrase. You’ll get the other trigger phrases as you level up. Donita’s was a freebee, complimentary of the Dead Soldier’s Gang,” said Wade.
I watched Harold Whatcom nod his head and take the leash.
“You won’t regret it, major.”
“Todd?”
Fuck! I had to scramble to shut off the movie, but I must have looked guilty as hell when mom walked in the room.
“What’s all this?”
“Study materials from the last century,” I said, holding up the tapes. “I’m converting them into a format that I can use.”
“Why isn’t it online like everything else?”
“The stuff at the college is. I got this from a private collection. I have to return it when I’m done.”
“Okay, well, I made us some lunch.”
To say that the dynamic between us has changed would be an understatement. Mom smiled at me more on our trip to the kitchen than she has for the past two weeks. Once we got to the table, our plates were side by side and when I sat down, she put her chair beside mine, nearly sitting in my lap. This could be a problem.
“Mom, you know at some point I’m going to have to go back to Connie’s. I mean, um,” I said, not really knowing what to say next.
“Todd, I’ve had every jealous bone in my body broken until they can’t break anymore. You’re my man, now. Even though I tried to warn you, and did all I could do to put you off, you volunteered for this. You can do whatever you want, but don’t you dare forget you belong to me,” she said, kissing me on the cheek. “Mommy loves you, dear.”
No pressure, sure, I thought I knew what I wanted. A few laughs, a little dirty fun, and you know, a little mom and son bonding before I left her drunken ass and got on with the rest of my life. Suddenly, the image of mom handing me the leash to the collar tied around her neck came to mind. I realized I was, as Wade said, dirty, and once you’re in, there’s no getting out. “I love you too, mom.”