Currently Writing: Good Boys and Bad Dogs 3: Puppy Love

 

Leanna Baker had everything she’d needed in her car except her son Cyrus. She had picked up Cy’s baseball gear, her soccer gear for coaching her church’s team, and chicken fried steak for them and her husband Matthew. All that was left was to pick Cy up from his game at the park. She’d dropped him off to play with some of his friends, supervised by their moms and dads of course, while she’d gone off to run errands. She pulled her Subaru into the parking lot and got out, throwing her large Quay sunglasses over her rich brown eyes to guard against the steaming June sun. Though she was a modest 5’4”, she stood two inches taller in her wedges and strode towards the park, her round legs pushing through the slit on her sky blue mid-thigh skirt. She brushed wavy, shoulder lenghty, earthy brown hair aside, exposing her slender neck above a backless white blouse that nicely carried her 38 Cs. She caught a couple of teenage boys skating nearby staring at her, and smirked to think that even before the summer started, she likely wouldn’t have dressed in such a way to catch their eye. But, things were different now, and had been for some months, though she was the only one who knew why.

She made her way past basketball and tennis courts to the wide sections of baseball diamonds, passing by dozens of people coming and going, a few little league teams packing up, others just getting ready. Thankfully, Cy just liked to play casual games with his friends, leaving her free time unmolested. She spotted him leaning against a fence before a baseball diamond quickly filling up with uniformed little leaguers. He himself just wore a red T-shirt and blue shorts. His head was sunk low, his hands in his pockets, and he leaned against the fence like he might fall over without it.

“Hey, Cy!” Leanna said, taking off her sunglasses to regard her son. Though he was 13, she still had a good three inches on him, more in her wedges. He was becoming such a handsome young man, though he still resembled her more than his father. They shared the same round facial features and short, stubby noses, the same eyes, the same hair, but he had his father’s sexy upper lip that used to drive her crazy on Matthew and she knew would drive the girls crazy as Cy got older. But it wasn’t his growing youthful handsomeness that made Leanna stop. It was the pale, ashen look on his face as he glanced up at her.

“Cy?” she asked. “Is everything okay?”

He shook his head without raising it.

“Did something happen?”

He gave her a mournful nod.

She took his chin in her hands and lifted it. “I’m sorry, babe. Do you wanna talk about it?”

He averted his eyes, then began glancing around them. “Can we… can we talk about it in the car?” he asked.

Leanna said, ‘Oh. Okay. Sure, babe.”

After making their way back to her SUV, Cy shakily put his things in the back and then got in the passenger seat beside her. Leanna got in and stared at him, waiting for him to talk.

“It can’t be that bad, babe,” she said. “What’s the matter, lose a game? Get in a fight?”
Cy shook his head. He then swallowed and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. Leanna’s brow furrowed and something in her stomach went cold. Without meeting her eyes, he handed it to her. She unfolded it and read simply typed words on it.

“We know about your mom Leanna’s affair. If you don’t want anyone finding out, tell her to take the two of you to this address. If you tell anyone this, we’ll put the video we have online. If you don’t come by sundown, we’ll release the video.”
Below it was an address for somewhere close to downtown. But, Leanna barely registered that detail. Her eyes were busy bugging the picture below, of her hugging her husband’s best friend Richard at his home in uptown. She then scanned short sentences over and over as her fingers trembled.

She shot a look to Cy, his eyes still down. “Who gave this to you?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I came went to the bathroom and came back and found it in my gym bag.”
“I… I…” Leanna stammered. This couldn’t be real. “Your father… Cy I would never-”
“I know, Mom.”

“You know…?”
“I know you’ve been… seeing someone else.”
She blinked in shock. She’d been so careful! But the picture… and it said they had video…

“How did… Nevermind. It’s a lie, babe.”
“Is it?”
“I swear it is.”

He only blinked.

Leanna put a hand on his shoulder. “I promise, Cy.”
“Okay,” he said weakly.

She stroked his cheek and it felt cold. She put her hand back on the piece of paper, struggling to control her breathing. She should just throw it away and take the risk. But, she knew what happened that night with Richard, when they were outside in his pool. And if they had video and released it, what would that do to her poor Cy?

“Mom?”
Leanna blinked, realizing she’d been staring off into space for several minutes. “Yeah, babe?”

“What’re we gonna do?”

“We”? God, now he was a part of it, wasn’t he? Guilt and shame roiled nauseously around in her stomach. The sun passed behind some clouds and then shone into her eyes. There was plenty of light left in the day. And it said before sundown…

Like she was in a dream, Leanna started the car and drove out of the parking lot.

“We’re just gonna… gonna take a look,” she told him, trying to keep her voice steady.

The location was a restaurant that was out of business just south of downtown, one Leanna used to frequent when she was in her 20s. She made it there, a building under reconstruction at the end of a mostly empty strip mall. She began to circle it, eyes on the windows inside, until she spotted through the empty building a red Toyota Highlander on the back side. She circled the building and came to a stop in front of the other SUV. It faced them, but a sun visor blocked their view of the inside.

“What… what now?” Cy asked, fists balled up on his legs.

Leanna gripped the wheel tight. “I don’t know. Did… did the letter say anything else?”

Her phone rang, the loud, pleasant jingling bell ringtone sounding loudly in the car shaking both her and Cy.

“Do you know this number?” she asked.

Cy shook his head.

Leanna paused a moment, then answered. “He-Hello?”
“Mrs. Baker,” came a woman’s sultry voice. “Young Cy.”

Cy gave his mother a frightened look.
“Who…” Leanna tried to steady her voice with anger. “Who the hell is this?”

“Someone who knows what you’ve been up to.”

Suddenly, there was Leanna’s own voice, moaning, “Richard, yes, Richard, fuck me…”

“Th-That’s enough!” Leanna tried to shout. “My son in here!”

The recording of Leanna and Richard stopped and the mysterious woman returned. “Good, that means you can follow directions. Here are more: Pull your car up behind the highlander. Then, you and Cy are to take off all your clothes, all of them, get out, and get in the back.”

Leanna and Cy shared a terrified look as she yelled, “Are you out of your mind? Absolutely not!”

“Then I hope you know a good lawyer, and are prepared for what that video will do to poor Cy.”

Leanna knew that the prenup she signed now a whole lifetime ago would do to her, and her chance of getting anything, much less custody of Cy. Worse, who knew what would happen to him if kids at his school got hold of video of her fucking anyone, much less another man?

Cy stared at her in shock.

Leanna couldn’t meet his gaze. How could she let them get put in such a situation? But, what choice did she have? She stared ahead at the other vehicle. It was a woman’s voice. Maybe all she wanted to do was humiliate them. Maybe she was Richard’s jealous ex. Maybe she just wanted money. But the fact that it was a woman instead of a man somehow made the unbelievable demand horribly more believable.

“Mom?” Cy asked quietly.

Leanna couldn’t help but look pleadingly at him as she began undoing the clasp at the back of her blouse. “J-Just do what she says, babe.”

After awkwardly, quietly undressing, keeping their eyes off one an other, the woman on the phone instructed them to turn the car off, leave their phones, and get in the other SUV.

“Where are you gonna take us?” Cy said as Leanna gasped.

“Somewhere fun,” came the woman’s too enthusiastic response.

Leanna said, “How do we know you’re not gonna sell us as slaves?”

Cy said, “Or harvest our organs or something?”

The woman chuckled, a sound like deadly bubbling lava. “You’ll be just fine. In fact, if you hurry, we’ll be done and have you home before sundown, safe and sound, we promise. You can go back to Matthew, and he can never know about your… indiscretion.”

She ended the call.

Looking around, hoping somebody might see them, Leanna realized there was no road that ran near the back of the restaurant, and the grove of trees behind blocked them in further. Even worse, the light of the sun was baring down on them. She looked across the car to see Cy, who stared at her barely covered form and went from pink to bright red. Her own cheeks blazing, Leanna averted her eyes from her naked son as they approached the other car, the sun blazing down on their bare, clammy, sweaty skin.

Surely whatever this woman wanted wasn’t as bad as the alternative? Maybe she just wanted photos of them naked to blackmail her further, just ask for money? As terrible ideas filled her head, Leanna felt like she had not choice but to continue on.

Still covering themselves and averting their eyes from one another, they opened the red Highlander’s back. Nobody was inside and the windows were heavily tinted. But, the back seats had been laid flat, and sitting there were two black fabric hoods. “Put these on,” read a sticky note sitting between them.

Cy volunteered first, getting in and putting his hood on. Leanna followed, sitting behind him, their bare backs touching each other briefly, hot and sweaty. Leanna could see nothing but breathed easily enough. Without thinking, she put a feeling hand behind for his. His hand found hers, and they held each other tight.

She lifted her head at the sound of a door opening, then footsteps. A pair of them.

“Glad you can follow orders, Leanna,” came the voice of the woman on the phone.

Another woman, calmer and colder, said, “The both of you lay down and don’t move. If you lift your heads, try to signal police, anything, we’ll throw you out of the car and release the video .”

“What do you want with us?” Leanna shouted, choking on angry, futile tears.

The first woman, almost sadly, said, “You’ll see.”

There was the sound of the hatch lowering. Then, footsteps around the car and the front two doors opening and closing as the women got in and started the SUV. Hands still clasped, Leanna and Cy lay on their sides, backs to one another. It took everything Leanna had not to wrap her arms around her boy and tell him they’d be okay.

As the car pulled away from theirs, it took everything she had not to cry.

Minutes passed by as the car seemed to take random turns, got on a highway and sped somewhere, exited, and made several more turns. What felt like maybe half an hour later, the car slowed. Leanna thought she could make out the sound of a gate creaking open, then a garage door opening and closing. Then, the car was turned off, and the cold woman said, a little too chipper, “We’re here.”

More footsteps outside, as well as some kind of rattling, and then somebody opened up the back. A woman’s honeyed voice bubbled, “Aren’t y’all a nice looking pair?”

A warm, strong hand found her free one, and Leanna was pulled out and onto her feet.

“Mom?” Cy said through his own hood.

“I’m here, babe, I’m here,” she told him.

Leanna noticed a new sound. Dogs were barking somewhere, probably outside. Where were they?

Before she could wonder anything else, there was more rattling, distinctly chains, as something was put around her neck. Then, handcuffs were snapped across her wrists.

“What’s going on?” Leanna demanded.

More chains rattled and handcuffs snapped, followed by Cy crying, “Mom?”

Suddenly, her hood was removed. Leanna blinked at the dim florescent lighting. Cy stood before her, handcuffed, with a dog collar around his neck attached to a chain leash. Holding the leash was a woman a little shorter than Leanna, with a round, curvy body, wearing denim overalls and a sleeveless red shirt. She was also visibly pregnant, and, on her face, was a strange red and black leather bondage dog mask.

Leanna’s eyes widened in shock as she took in the other two women. Both were taller than her, one almost six feet high, and were also pregnant. The tallest one had on a purple bodysuit and a purple and black dog mask, while the other one a loose blue blouse, white jeans, and a blue and black dog mask.

“Oh my god,” Leanna uttered.

“Now, don’t you worry,” the red masked woman drawled. “We’re not gonna hurt you or Cy.”

At that, the woman in the purple mask removed Cy’s hood. He stared about in surprise.

“Please,” Leanna begged, “let him go. Do whatever you want with me, but let my son go.”

“Sorry,” purred the tall woman in the purple mask. “This involves him, too.”

“What are you gonna do with us?”

The blue masked woman said, “Take you into the next room.”

With a tug on their collars, Leanna and Cy were pulled out of what looked like a garage. Unable to cover her naked body from Cy, she was glad he was at least able to cover his penis. He glanced at her, and her nakedness, nervously. Now that her hood was off, Leanna could smell something musky, an almost animal scent. Blue Mask opened a door leading to a clean hallway like in a doctor’s office, lights off. The scent of animals grew stronger. In the distance, the barking of dogs grew louder. Her feet were cold on the linoleum floor as s he and Cy were taken deeper into wherever they were.

“I’m sorry,” Leanna said as they walked. “I’m sorry for what I did. Punish me, don’t punish Cy too.”

“Now, now,” drolled Red Mask. “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. We’re not punishing you for that.”
“Th-Then, what are you doing?”
She slowed as the barking grew louder. Blue Mask put a hand on her back and gently pushed her forward. “What we have to,” she said coldly.

“Wh-where are we?” Cy asked.

Purple mask playfully tugged on his leash, making him hurry forward, and opened the door at the end of the hall, revealing a long line of cages on each side. The only light came from a high-set window at the end, dying afternoon sunlight just fading in.

“The kennel,” purred Purple Mask.

Red Mask tugged at Leanna’s leash and pulled her into the room. As she walked, dogs of all sizes and breeds, but mostly middle to larger, began piling in through doggy doors in the walls behind the cages, coming up to the chain-link fenced doors and barking. Leanna shivered as some jumped up at the doors, rattling them. Reaching the wall at the end, there were several wall mounts for dog leash holders, simple metal hooks bolted into the wall. Red Mask took a lock hanging from one and then locked the end of Leanna’s leash to it. She then strolled back down the hall. When she was out of arm’s reach, Leanna began tugging and yanking at the chain, but it wouldn’t budge.

“What do you want?” she yelled above the barking as the three women surrounded the terrified, barely moving Cy.

Blue mask put her hands on his shoulders in an almost protective gesture and spoke. “It’s not what we want. It’s what they want.”

The dogs in the cages silenced. Footsteps sounded from down the hall, inhuman ones. Three massive dogs appeared in the dim light behind the three women; a rottweiler, a husky, and a doberman. The women went still as they approached. As the dos moved around the women to enter the kennel, they sniffed and licked at their thighs and hands. Then, they turned their focus to Leanna, and she could see their eyes had almost a red glow to them. She began pulling frantically at the leash.

“Calm down,” Red Mask said.

Purple Mask said, “They just wanna get your scent.”

Blue mask said, “It’s better if you go still.”
Naked and handcuffed and affixed to a wall, all Leanna could do was shiver as the three hulking animals approached. They sniffed at the air, panting heavily, tongues lapping like they could taste her fear. She pulled harder futilely at the chain. Now they were only a foot away. It was then she noticed all three had bulging red erections, and her naked flesh quivered in fear. Sinking to the ground, Leanna pulled her legs and arms over herself and clenched shut her eyes.

The first thing she felt was the whiff of air as one of them sniffed her thigh near where it curved up to her hip. Another moved around to her back and gave the curve of her cold-sweating back a lick. Then, a third began to poke its wet nose between her legs. Keeping still, Leanna did nothing for fear of provoking them into doing god knew what.

Then, she could swear, one of them chuffed a laugh into her ear.

And, without another protestation, the three animals turned and retreated. When they were back behind the women, Leanna dared to open her eyes. The women stroked and pet the dogs as they walked behind them. Cy, still chained and handcuffed, met Leanna’s eyes. She couldn’t help but notice he was covering a growing erection.

Then, the dogs lifted their heads, and the women lowered theirs.

“Yes,” Blue Mask said.

Purple mask purred, “the pitbull.”

Red Mask said, “I’ll open the cage.”
She walked towards Leanna, stopping halfway down the hall and undoing the latch on a door. It swung open and a massive mutt came out, with a pitbull-like head and hulking shoulders and legs. Leanna’s breath quickened. It sniffed in her direction and then, upon seeing her, opened its mouth to let a long tongue roll out, droll running to the cold floor.

It, too, had a massive, hard dick swinging from between its legs.

“Sorry, honey,” Red Mask said, stepping back.

“It’ll be over soon,” said Purple Mask.

The dog approached Leanna, who’s head weakly shook. Her eyes flicked from it to Cy, who stared with his mouth hung open in horror.

Blue Mask said, “If it helps, we came to enjoy it.”

They couldn’t mean…

“No…” Leanna whispered.
The pitbull-mix snarled and then pounced at Leanna. “Nooo!” she screamed as it rammed into her. Her legs let loose with a flurry of wild kicks, but the massive dog was too heavy and muscular, and all it seemed to do was annoy it. It began trying to hook its paws around her hips, so Leanna squirmed and wiggled as best she could. But it was like the beast knew her every move, was too quick to pin its bulk atop her. The other dogs in the kennel began to bark and jump against the chain link doors. Leanna and the dog tussled for long seconds, its hard cock flopping against her as it did, before Leanna managed to slip out of its grasp. She began to frantically crawl away. Maybe she could make it to the cage it had come out of and get herself inside. But then the women would still have Cy, and she would be…

The chain went taught and yanked at Leanna’s throat, chocking her and yanking her head back and up. In a lightning quick movement, the pitbull-mix was on her, teeth around the back of her neck, the collar the only thing keeping its teeth from tearing her flesh.

Trapped!
“Oh, almost,” said Red Mask semi-ironically.

The dog bit down hard and mounted Leanna, thrusting its cock at her rear.

“Please,” she begged the three women, “please, stop this!”

“Afraid we can’t,” Purple Mask said.

The weight of the pitbull-mix began to drive Leanna to the ground. She fell onto her handcuffed arms, the dog’s breath warm against her neck. Its paws grabbed at her hips. She tried to clench her pussy shut but the pointed tip of the dog’s cock jammed against it. And she couldn’t help that the fear and disgust had begun to make her wet. The dog’s furry, muscular weight began to drive into her back, its maw pushing her head down and raising her hips.

“Even if we could stop it,” Blue Mask said, “maybe we wouldn’t.”

She stared at the three women with pleading eyes, but in the little light they looked pitiless and empty. But their breathing was growing hard, and each was beginning to feel themselves up.

Cy just stared in shock, a horrible bulge growing between his legs as he breathed rapidly and shook like a frightened cat.

“Cy!” Leanna called. “Cover your eyes, babe!”

“Oh, no,” Purple Mask groaned. She affixed Cy’s leash to another nearby wall harness. “He has to watch.” She laid a finger on his shoulder and drew it along his skin.

Red Mask let out a honeyed chuckle. “Consider it a bonding experience.” She put a hand on his chest and began rubbing up and down it and his belly.

Blue mask leaned forward, her masked mouth just by Cy’s ear, a hand going to his arms. “He has to see what his mom really is.”

As the dog continued thrusting against her exposed pussy, Leanna watched in angry, futile horror as the other women caressed her son almost lovingly. He breathed hard, eyes unblinking on her. Then, the three women’s other hands went to his and began pulling his barely concealing grip down along his erect penis.

“Babe?” Leannea whimpered.

“Mom?” Cy whispered.

Then, the pitbull-mix’s cock found Leanna’s pussy, and thrust inside.

“Ooooo-aaaaahhh!” she cried as the almost sharpness penetrated her. The dog’s hold on her neck grew tighter, drool warm on her neck, as it, no, his hips rapidly bucked into her, thrusting his cock back and forth in her wet pussy. The inhuman shape, the disgusting nature of it, and worst of all, how good it felt, made her knees wobble. She began panting breaths like he did against her neck, all while these three horrible woman began to make her son stroke himself to it.

“S-Stop!” she begged them from beneath the dog, unable to prevent moans from escaping. “Let him, oh, go-oh!”

But the women continued holding his hands as they guided them up and down his hard cock.

Red Mask giggled. “Sorry, honey.” She continued rubbing Cy’s stomach.

Purple Mask, stroking Cy’s shoulder, said, “He has to be trained just like you.”
Blue mask, grinding against Cy as she rubbed his arms, said, “Now, be a good bitch and take that knot in front of your son.”

Leanna grimaced at the pleasurable, humiliating pain, tears beginning to stream from her eyes, as the pitbull-mix pressed her into the ground and shoved his cock back and forth inside her, the other dogs barking, almost cheering along. The hard knot at the base of his penis slammed again and again into her pussy at the pointed head pressed against her G-spot. Her fingers clawed at the linoleum floor and she clenched her teeth, trying not to let any moans or cries out. But, she did have to breathe, and horrid ecstatic gasps escaped her lips as she was fucked, no, raped by the dog almost lovingly holding her life between his jaws.

“Gah… grr… uh!” she let out as its cock reamed her. His muscular hips pressed against hers, paws clawing against the flesh of her hips as he held onto her, his wet tongue warm against the rising hairs on the back of her neck, his knot pushing against her pussy.

“Mo-Mo-Mom!” Cy let out.

Leanna stared at him. Unable to stop himself, he trembled in the women’s grasp like a fish out of water. She tried to call his name, but all the came out with the dog’s fucking of her was “Guh… nnh… huh!”

She begged and prayed in her head for the women to stop, for god or whatever to stop this. But, the pleasure forced inside her by the pitbull-mix’s cock was beginning to unravel her mind. She was drooling on the floor now out of her gritted teeth with each hump from the dog. Thrust. “Gh!” Slam. “Hss!” Pound. “Hn!”

Red Mask laughed. “See how much Momma likes it?”
Cy uttered an, “Uh,” as they stroked him.

Purple Mask purred, “She knows what she’s for.”

He whimpered, ‘Oh.”

Blue Mask said, “Show her how much you love her.”

He cried, “Ah!”

Blue Mask then lifted a hand and unsnapped the muzzle of the dog mask, letting it hang loose so that her true lips and nose could be seen. She began kissing the side of Cy’s neck. Then, Purple and Red Mask undid the mouth parts of their masks and began licking Cy’s shoulder and lapping at his belly.

“B-B-Babe?” Leanna said.

A sort of mewling sound like a helpless kitten crawled out of his dumbstruck open mouth. He wheezed and whined as the women played with him to the vision of Leanna being humped by the dog. And all Leanna could do was helplessly take it and try to keep him from making her moan and gasp.

But she failed. With each forceful thrust the pitbull-mix continued stroking her G-spot, the sensation of being fucked by his inhuman cock a forced upon her pleasure she had no reference for. His knot continued slamming hard against her pussy as he used her like a toy.

“Hn!” she said as he humped her.

“Uuuooh,” moaned Cy as he was stroked to her.

“Grf!”

“Ooooah.”

“Mmf!”

“Aaaah!”

The slamming of his knot against her pussy grew harder and harder, making her almost open her mouth and moan. Then, it began humping harder and faster.

“Oh!” Red Mask said.

Purple Mask said, “Almost there!”
“Knot her, boy!” cried Blue Mask.

Then with a final horrible thrust the dog’s bulging knot shoved into Leanna’s pussy. She clenched around it as the knot locked him inside her. Unable to bear it anymore, she opened her mouth and let out a scream that turned into a long, gasping moan. “Aaaaaarrrrggghoooooaaaaah!” she let out as she finally came.

The women laughed and cheered and Cy stopped breathing, his hands and theirs pulled tight around the base of his shaft.

“Mom…” Leanna could barely hear him whisper above the din of barking dogs and her own cries.

The dog continued fucking Leanna, locked inside her like a secret she could never tell of the fulfilling orgasm now wracked her body with. All she could do was moan and cry out with each thrust of him into her, the knot tugging ant pulling at her pussy. Tears began to flow freely down her face as she raggedly cried. Worst of all, she was too lost in what was happening she couldn’t tell if it was from painful humiliation or debacuherous pleasure.

“Oh, she liked that,” Red Mask said.

“I’ll say she did,” cheered Purple Mask.

Blue Mask hummed joyously to herself and said, “And he liked seeing it.”

Leanna cried up at her son as the women began tugging faster on his cock, his own hands gripping it tightly. Her cries crescendoed to piercing screams each time the dog pushed deep inside her. And he was moving faster.

It couldn’t get worse, could it? No, the dog was going to… and Cy was about to…

“B-babe!” was all Leanna could blubber out of her weeping mouth.

“Mom…” Cy gasped.

The dog’s grip tightened as he fucked faster and faster.

“Babe!”

“Mom!”

Red Mask licked her lip. “Here it comes!”

Purple Mask said, “the dog is about to burst.”

Blue Mask laughed and said, “They both are!”

Leanna wept as the dog joyously dominated her, her knees slumped to the floor, all resistance gone save the pleadingess in her eyes for Cy to not see it. But he couldn’t take his eyes away. And she couldn’t stop staring at him.

And the dog couldn’t stop going faster and faster, making her edge closer and closer again to a horrible pleasure.

“C’mon!” Red Mask said.

“Cy!” Leanna let out.

“Mom!” Cy said.

Purple Mask said, “Oh, he’s almost there!”

“Cyyyy!” Leanna cried out.

“Mom!” said Cy.

Blue Mask barked, “Now, cum!”

The dog quit thrust and plunged one final time deep into Leanna and began unloading into her. The sudden slimy lava hotness inside her and the pressure from his knot and the stroking of his cock made her explode. Face pressed against the floor, she screamed as the orgasm shivered and exploded inside her. Her toes curled, her fingers stretched, and her eyes bulged out as she was came in and came herself.

“CYYYYYYAAAAHHHH!” she bellowed.

“MooOoooOoooOOOOM!” Cy gasped as his hips rocked back and forth, cum shooting out from his cock, stickiness covering his and the women’s hands on his cock.

The words lingered out of Leanna’s lips until she was only gasping empty air, then silent. She stilled against the orgasm, then went limp. The dog, his humpings slowing and then stopping, relaxed, and collapsed against her, his maw limp on her neck, pants hot against her flesh, his cock throbbing inside her. She lay there, staring at her molested son as he teetered back and forth on his feet, only kept up by the women’s hands on him. She stared into his vacant eyes and out at nothing as her own body twitched and spasmed, her mind like a TV only receiving the noisy static leftover from the massive Big Bang explosion of her orgasm.

She whimpered and wheezed against the floor, mouth going dry, the dog’s fuzzy muscles blanketing her. Then, he stirred, licking at the base of her neck, and rose on wobbly legs. As he did, Cy began to blink, and his eyes fell from Leanna to the floor, tears dropping silent as snowflakes. The dogs watching stopped their barking and quit throwing themselves against their cages.

“Buh… buh… babe,” Leanna managed to say.

The women were humming and chuckling almost musically as they eased him down, setting him with his back to the wall.

“He’s spent,” Red Mask said.

“He just went through a lot,” said Purple Mask.

“You both did,” Blue Mask said.

The pitbull-mix roused itself, turning and beginning to walk away from Leanna. But, his cock was still stuck inside her. He tugged at her, making her whimper.

“Oh, that,” Red Mask said. “That’ll take a little bit to come out.”
Purple Mask said, “Just relax, Leanna, and let him take his time.”

There was a growl from behind them.

“As for us,” Blue Mask said, “we have to serve our masters.”

The three women then began hiking up their dresses, pulling down their pants, and getting onto their knees. The doberman, rottweiler, and husky, who had been watching Leanna’s degradation and barking along with the other dogs in the kennel, now approached the women, snarling, knotted cocks throbbing with energy like distant thunder. Leanna, still stuck with one inside her, watched as they mounted the women, humping and fucking the seemingly willing women who moaned and gasped in pleasure and, though maybe it was only to Leanna, a little bit of pain and sorrow.

“Yesss!” Red Mask moaned as the doberman took her.

Purple Mask cried, “Oh, god, sir!” as the rottweiler dominated her.

“Fuck, more, please!” begged Blue Mask while the husky humped her.

As the women gave over to animal lust, Leanne, looked over to Cy, who remained mere feet away, staring vacantly at them, wetness running rivers down his cheeks. The dog still stuck in her like an anchor, she reached out and hoarsely whispered, “Cy.”

His eyes revolved to her and, when a spark of him, of his beautiful youthful joy leapt to them, they bulged and stared into hers. She stared back, and they both silently cried together amid the noise of snarling dogs and lustful groans and cries.

#

After the dogs had their fun with their captors, the women rose, put their clothes back on, and closed the door, leaving Cy, his mother, and the dog he’d masturbated to raping her alone. The dog finally managed to pry itself free of her sometime during the women’s tryst with their dogs, upon which he then sniffed at Leanna and sat beside her, watching the masked women with their dogs like they were giving him instructions. Leanna and Cy remained on the floor, soon starting to breathe normally, avoiding looking at one another, as the sun began to sink in the window outside.

One of the women, Blue Mask, returned before it grew dark, holding a phone up to them. She played a video of Leanna being fucked by the dog and of Cy masturbating to it.

“If you tell anyone what happened,” she said, “this video gets leaked and sent to everyone you know. Coworkers, students, church goers, all will know what you did.”
Cy said nothing. Neither did his mother.

Blue Mask put the phone away. “We’re going to take you back to the car and drive you back to your car. Your secret stays safe if you do what we say.”

Cy and Lenana shared nervous glances. She managed to say, through a smacking dry mouth, “What do you want?”

“Why,” Blue Mask said, “for you to take care of your new pet, of course.”

The two of them turned to the dog, still obediently sitting beside her.

“Are you…” Leanna began.

“Oh, we are,” Blue Mask said. “House him, feed him, take care of him. And, when he wants it, give him what he wants.”

“My husband… Richard…”

“He’ll adjust.” She chuckled. “They all do. Oh, and when the time comes, we’ll be in touch.”
Leanna’s head jerked up. “The time for what?”
The woman chuckled again and stroked his chin. He shuddered at the memory of what her strong, tender fingers had made him do. “You’ll know.”
She then ordered them up like they themselves were pets to be trained, unlocking their leashes from the wall and leading them both back to the garage. She undid their collars and handcuffs, looking them in the eyes as if daring them to try anything. But both Cy and his mother only lowered their gaze from the masked woman, and both obediently entered the back of the red SUV. The pitbull-mix followed, but rode up front with the woman. After they obeyed her order to put their hoods back on, the car left the garage.

This time, Cy and Leanna did not hold each other’s hands. They merely lay with their backs to one another, the rocking of the SUV occasionally making their skin touch.

When they were let out back at their car, the sun was beginning to set. They dressed almost absent-mindedly, the dog having gotten out with them and staring at them like a sentry.

“Remember,” Blue Mask told them before she drove off, “you do anything out of line, we’ll know. Then, everyone will know what you two, heh, enjoyed. Oh, and think of a good name for him.”
As the dust from her car filled the air, Cy and Leanna avoided looking at one another. Then, the dog traipsed across their view and barked at their sitting SUV. They got in the front, Leanna opening the hatch in the back, and the pitbull-mix hopped in. When it closed shut, Cy, without looking at her, asked, “Mom… what’re we gonna do?”

Leanna looked out at the setting sun, hands limp on the steering wheel. She didn’t answer for a long time, until the dog, laying down in the back seat, snarled lowly.

“Let’s just… let’s just get home, Cy.”
She put the car into drive and slowly, almost robotically, pulled out from behind the old restaurant. The sun was beginning to set. What would his dad about them being so late.

Not to mention when they show up at home with a dog they’d just “adopted.”

The speakers blared as his mom’s phone rang, the distinct, almost cartoon like ring she chose for Cy’s dad. They shared a look and she told him, “Just… don’t say anything,” before answering.

“Where are you two?” he asked.

Leanna forced a laugh. “The, uh, line for food was insane!”

“Oh, okay. You have fun at the park, big guy?”
He glanced to his mother, who nodded slowly.

“Y-Yeah, Dad,” Cy said, “I had a lotta fun.”
“Glad to hear it, man.”

The car bumped over a curb as Leanna struggled to drive normally, making the dog in the back snarl.

“What was that?” Matthew asked.

“N-Nothing, dear,” Leanna said. “We’ll be home shortly.”

“Good, I’m starving!” He laughed.

Leanna chuckled then ended the call.

After a moment, Cy asked, “Are we not gonna tell Dad about…?” He nodded back to the dog.
Leanna took a breath before answering. “He’s gonna find out, anyway.”
He could only nod to that. Leanna pulled the car onto the highway.

But thoughts of what had just happened would not stay out of Cy’s mind. It wasn’t his first time masturbating, but being only 13, he’d just recently discovered the pleasures. And to have three hot women masturbate him? But, to what he saw…

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he said, his lower lip quivering.

Leanna took a short, harsh breath. “About what?”

He looked over at her, staring at traffic like it was another summer day. “About… what hap-”

Her eyes snapped to him like a whip. “Nothing happened, Cy.”

“M-Mom, I couldn’t… they made me…”
“Listen to me, Cy.” Her eyes were hard and unblinking on him. “Nothing. Happened.”

He knew that look, knew that tone. Knew those words. They were what she said when he first suspected she was cheating on his dad

Currently writing: The Cursed Sketchbook

 The Cursed Sketchbook

###

Tayson Wainwright’s mother Madyson always seemed mad at him. Whether it was his grades suffering because his head was in the clouds during class, his social standing, or lack thereof, because he was seen as the “weird kid” by her friends and their own children, or just the fact that he liked to draw monsters, aliens, and demons from his movies, comics, and video games instead of doing normal young adult things like play sports or chase girls, everything he did simply seemed to tick her off.

“I don’t know what’s the matter with him,” he overheard her say one day when she hosted friends for cocktails. “He simply seems to live in his own little world full of nasty creatures and things instead of in the here and now. I just don’t know, ladies!”

Her friends had chuckled. But all Tayson, creeping around a corner, had noticed was the disapproval in his mother’s voice. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it, nor would it be the last. But, it was the first time his feelings mutated from disappointment to anger. That had been in early May, when she and other mothers from Woodsborough Academy were meeting to discuss throwing a party celebrating their children leaving middle school. And it began what would be a long, simmering summer for the both of them.

#

“I don’t get why I have to go,” Tayson told his mother.

Madyson folded her arms and huffed. “For one thing, it’s a pool party! Surely even you can enjoy that. Another thing is that going to be in your own backyard. And yet another, I practically had to beg the other mothers to host it here.”

“Why?” he asked while he kept staring at his burgeoning picture. “I don’t like any of my classmates, and they don’t like me.”
“Tayson, that’s what this is for. And it’s a chance for me to network as well.”

He put down his pencil and sighed. How many times had he tried to tell her he wasn’t interested? Not only that, but he needed something more, like he was being forced into an all-you-can-eat asian buffet when he was craving seafood. It was bad enough she was interrupting what was turning out to be a great drawing of a insect-dog monster, but interrupting him for something he didn’t need, let alone want?

“So it’s something for me that you want but I don’t,” he said. “I understand totally. Thanks, Mom.” He went back to sketching.

“Could you please look at me while I talk to you?” she said, not sounding like she meant the “please” part. She spun his chair around. He stared up at his statuesque mother as she glared down at him. Her icy blue eyes froze him solid as she brushed a knife sharp swath of her blonde bob out of her eyes. He did his best not to shrink into his seat beneath her gaze. Her thick lips were downturned in their usual disapproving pout.

“Now listen to me,” Madyson told him, “I put a lot of effort into getting this party thrown together and hosted at our home. It’s a chance for you to put your best food forward as you transition from middle to high school. What’s more, it reflects on me with the other mothers and parents, and I know you wouldn’t want your father and I to look poorly with them, would you?”

Just staring at her made him realize why some of the guys in his class would be at their party, which just made him want to go even less. He had her blonde hair, blue eyes, and even some of her thick full lips, but had his dad’s button nose and round chin, making him look perpetually babyfaced. Add on his giant glasses and that his hair was always an ungainly mop, and how the girls in his class surely saw him gave him yet another reason to not want to go.

But, he wanted to make her happy, even when she was mad at him, even when she made him mad for not giving him what he needed.

Tayson asked, “Can I just make an appearance and then head back in? Nobody will notice I’m even there.”

Madyson sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Tayson, for the love of god…”

The annoyed disappointment in her voice made him shrink further into his seat. But, being denied an understanding response made his cheeks burn.

“Yes, ma’am,” he begrudgingly groaned.

“Thank you,” she said, rolling her eyes and turning to go. “They’ll start arriving at noon. Be ready a half hour before.”
“Okay, Mom.”

She stopped at his doorway, turning back to face him. “And Tay?”

She paused and looked almost apologetic Was she actually going to relent?
She glanced at the sketchbook on his desk. “Put those abominations away, in case we show anybody the house.” With that, she left.

Tayson deflated like a punctured balloon then swiveled back around to his sketchbook. And here he thought he was nailing some new monsters spectacularly. The insect-dog had been inspired by the Resident Evil games and watching the old The Thing movie the night before. He flipped a page back to a scaly sort of lizard man he’d imagined a day before after seeing some Warhammer fantasy miniatures. Before that, xenomorphs from the Alien movies. He flipped back, page after page of creatures skulking, stalking, and crawling by. He reached the first page and shut the book.

Couldn’t she appreciate his artistic talent? She used to love to put his drawings up on the fridge when he was young. Now that he was about to turn 14 and enter high school, practically an adult, ever since he grew to like horror and sci-fi movies and games and comics, no matter how good his skills grew, she just looked at his sketchbook like it was covered in roaches.

Roaches, he thought. Not a bad idea. Have to come back to that. After the party… Ugh.

Dispirited from drawing, he left the sketchbook on his desk and decided to game until it was time to change for the party.

#

The early summer afternoon bathed the Wainwright household in seasonal warmth, with just a hint of a breeze keeping things cool. The air was rife with the smell of chlorine, sunscreen, and food and drinks. Madyson overlooked the swarm of advancing students and their parents as they talked, ate, drank, and of course, played in her massive pool. She herself lounged on a patio chair under the shade of a large navy umbrella, other mothers and fathers occupying the other seats, her husband and Tayson’s father Patrick beside her. She wore a white bikini underneath a blue mesh coverup mini dress, which, to her bemusement, attracted more than a little attention from the other fathers and a chunk of the growing boys.

Not among them was Tayson.

While Patrick told a joke making the others parents laugh, Madyson took a long drink from her glass of sangria wine. Where was Tayson? Couldn’t he see all the work she was putting into this for him? She was practically trying to lay the foundation for him now that he was leaving middle school and soon would be starting high school. Surely he was aware of how much she wanted him to have an easier time one he was a freshman, to cast off the chains of the “weird kid” label and make friends and find a girlfriend and all that? She loved that boy something fierce, but his reticence at making any sort of progress just drove her crazy!

“Where’s your own son?” one of the other mothers asked.

“Tayson?” Patrick said, setting his bottle of beer down. “Yes, where is the boy?”

Madyson forced a smile as she felt scrutinizing eyes on her. “I’m sure he’s just late coming out. Doesn’t want to brag about our home and pool and all that.”

“Modesty,” another mother said. “A wonderful trait. You must be so proud of him.”

“Oh, quite.”

Her eyes roamed over the noisy fracas in her carefully landscaped backyard, scanning for any shadowy corner, any shady tree, any area of the pool Tayson might be hiding in.

“Well, here he comes!” Patrick said.

She glanced around and found Tayson walking out of the back patio doors, blue gradating to white swimtrunks on underneath a white with blue flowers shirt open to his mid chest. She had picked it out for him and he loved wearing it when they traveled to tropical spots or went to the pools of friends of theirs. Well, friends of hers and Patrick’s. He glanced unsurely at his fellow summer-free students as they walked past, blushing at some of the girls in their swimsuits, as he approached her and Patrick.

“There he is!” Patrick said with enough of a slur in his voice to make Madyson wince. “What took you, son?”
Tayson rubbed his arm. “I was, uh, having a snack before I came out.”

Patrick patted him hard on the shoulder like he was a prized dog. “Well, we’re glad you’re here now.”
Madyson, already feeling slightly embarrassed for him, patted him gently on the back. “You look very handsome, Tayson,” she said.

The other mothers chimed in their agreements and his cheeks turned red beneath his glasses.

“Why don’t you grab a drink or a snack and go hang out with your classmates?” Madyson said.

Tayson eyed the long table full of snacks, from fresh fruit and nuts to candy and chips, and the iced coolers laden with sodas, juices, and waters. “Yeah, I’ll, uh, do that.”

Madyson watched him as he went over and made a plate for himself and grabbed a soda. Then, he glanced around, seemingly unsure of what to do. None of the other students seemed to notice him, or in fact seemed to actively avoid him.

C’mon, Tayson, Madyson thought. Just go up and talk to them. Find a group. It’s not that hard. Frustration for him and annoyance at his seeming ambivalence to all she’d put out primarily for him made her wince and pout.

She watched him walk around and stand awkwardly near and around other students for what felt like forever, occasionally laughing or nodding his head at something said, only for the others to either blithely accept his presence or outright ignore him. Was this what school was like for him? Surely it couldn’t have been that difficult?

Then, finally, another student walked up and began talking to him. Then another. Though, frankly, none of them seemed the cheerleader or football star type, Madyson was just glad he finally seemed to find people to talk to. She smiled and went to refill her sangria.

#

“Yo, cool house, Tayson,” said a student named Maddox.

Another, Amelia, said. “I can’t believe how big your pool is.”

The third who had approached Tayson, Jackson, said, “Thanks for having us over.”
While he wasn’t close with them and weren’t exactly the most popular kids in school, they’d always been friendly enough to Tayson, and he appreciated them coming to talk to him. “Thanks, guys! Though really, it was my mom’s idea to have it at our house.”

Maddox asked, “For real?”
“Why?” asked Amelia.

Tayson said, “I think she thinks it’ll help my popularity or whatever. Really, I think she just wanted to impress the other parents.”

Jackson said, “That’s kinda messed up.”

Tayson shrugged. “She’s always doing stuff like this. One time, she made us go on vacation with some friends of hers and their kids. I spent most of the time drawing by myself.”

“Those gross monsters you’re always drawing in class?” Amelia asked.

Tayson almost beamed at the possibility of attention, though he knew Amelia was gay and she did use the word “gross” to describe his art.

“Uh, yeah,” he said.

“They’re, uh, kinda cool.”
Jackson said, “Yeah, remind me of stuff out of the Resident Evil games.”

“Right!” Tayson said. “I love those games!”

Maddox asked, “Do you have a sweet game setup? Big TV and all that?”

“Well, I don’t really have a TV.”

“Oh.”

“No, I mean, I have a projector in my room. Fills up one whole wall.”

The others gasped in astonishment. They began asking him what he’d been playing lately and sharing their own gaming predilections. As they talked, Tayson noticed his mother smiling at him from across the yard. He smiled back at her.

#

“Tayson looks like he’s having a good time,” Patrick said.

Madyson said, “Finally,” and drank her wine. She eyed the other parents, who were watching their own kids play in the pool.

“Pardon me, Madyson,” a mother asked, “where is the bathroom?”

She answered, “There’s one in the pool house, but I can see there’s a line growing. If you’d like, I can show you the other nearest restroom and give you a quick tour of the house?”

The other parents agreed, and soon Madyson was showing them and a gaggle of young teenagers. After losing a few who quickly formed a line at the two nearest guest bathrooms on the first floor, Madyson took the rest on a guided tour of her proud home. After showing off the multimedia room and her and Patrick’s studies, one teenager asked, “Is there another bathroom on this floor?”
Madyson laughed. “Yes, it’s down the hall, just before Tayson’s room.”

A trio of boys shared mischievous looks and made down the hall.

“Now, if the rest of you will follow me,” Madyson said, “I’ll show you the rest of the house…”

#

Tayson had just finished his snacks and was about to take Maddox, Amelia, and Jackson up to his room to show them his gaming rig when he heard shrieks. The first came from the house. Then, another from the pool house. A third erupted from the pool itself. Tayson and the others spun their heads searching for the source of the commotion, and Tayson’s eyes bugged when he saw what it was.

It was his monsters, his drawings, his art, ripped out of his sketchbook and being used to scare girls by boys from his class.

“No, no, no!” he said as he ran to the closest ones by the house. He snatched the drawing of a bee monster out of the boy’s hand, distraught at it being ripped from the spiral binder and torn along the edges. Parents stared, students laughed, and cameras recorded as he ran to the pool house where another boy was teasing another girl with a sketch of a zombie gorilla.

“Oh god, Tayson!” Madyson groaned as people stopped and stared.

“Give that back!” Tayson cried as he grabbed the paper out of the other boy’s hand.

The last person had his actual entire sketchbook in the pool and was trying to freak out a girl with one of his favorite pictures, that of a reptilian dog hybrid. Clutching the pictures close to his chest, Tayson begged, “Please! Give that back!” But all his classmate did was dangle it out of reach.

“Tayson!” Madyson yelled as she got out of her seat and ran to the side of the pool.

Tayson grabbed at the book, held just out of reach. Then, his foot slipped, and he tumbled in, pages flying into the water, and knocking the boy back and sending his sketchbook to the bottom. Water rushed into his nose and he struggled amid a sea of legs and arms as he dove down to retrieve his treasure. When he broke the surface, gasping for air, he was greeted by a chorus of laughter and jeers. He reached the edge of the pool and put his sopping wet sketchbook on the edge, like a friend he’d failed to save from drowning. Water pouring down his glasses, he could just make out Maddox, Amelia, and Jackson moving to the back of the ground. His dad stared at the mess that had become his backyard and took a long pull from his beer. And standing several feet above him, a look of rage on her burning red face, stood his mother.

#

“What were you thinking?” Madyson asked.

Tayson sat on his bed staring up at his parents. The party was over, his classmates and their parents long gone, and the shadows falling over the now vacant pool and backyard outside matched the pall falling over Tayson’s mood.

“Son,” said Patrick, waving a half empty beer bottle about, “you really upset and embarrassed your mother, and-”
Madyson held up a hand. “I can handle this, Patrick.” Her eyes never left Tayson. “What were you thinking?”

Tayson’s jaw dropped. After the debacle at the party, his mother had sent him up to his room cradling his ruined art. Now that everyone was gone, she had the gall to come up here and ask him what he was thinking when other people vandalized his work and humiliated him? It was all he could do to hold his hands out like he was showing her something obvious.

All he could do was stammer. “I… they’re the ones who… my art…”

Patrick said, “Look son, we’re not looking for-”
Madyson, without looking at him, said, “Patrick, please. I’ve got this.”
He shrugged and turned and headed into the media room. Soon the sounds of a baseball game could be heard from the TV. All the while, Madyson clenched her eyes shut and seethed. She then closed the door, folded her arms, and stared down at Tayson.

“What. Were. You. Thinking?” she demanded.

Tayson blinked in shock. “What was I thinking?” he asked. “Are you serious? It was those guys who ruined my art that did it!”
“I remember explicitly telling you to put that sketchbook of yours away in case we showed anybody the house.”

“I did! They must’ve come into my room and found it! And why are you mad at me and not them?”

“You could’ve just let those awful pictures go instead of making a scene.”
His shoulders sagged as he felt his pleas falling on deaf ears. Not just deaf, but closed shut.

He turned away and muttered, “You could’ve…”

“I what?” Madyson demanded.

He stared up at her. “You could’ve done something.”
Her eyes bulged like he’d insulted her. “What would I have done, Tayson? Make a fool of myself trying to recover your monstrous art? Debased myself in front of my peers and their children?”

“How about stand up for me?”

She blinked rapidly. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do? I opened up our home for your classmates in the hopes that you might actually get out there and interact with them and hopefully take your steps into high school with a new look at things.”
“Mom, I don’t want that! I just… wanna be me!”

“And what’s that going to get you, Tayson? A lonely four years continuing to be the ‘weird kid?’”

“I like being the ‘weird kid’ Mom. It’s not my fault they don’t get me. And, I was starting to get along with some people who didn’t care!”

“And maybe you wouldn’t have to if you…”
She looked away.

“If I what?” he asked.

“If you weren’t… the way you are, Tay.”

She looked at him with such pity that it was impossible to meet her gaze. He stared at the floor instead. Then, anger at what she’d said, at everything that had happened, burned like octane in him.

“If you loved me for who I was,” he said, “you wouldn’t have been humiliated today.”
He glared up at her and, for a fraction of a second, saw remorse, sadness, and love in her. But it was quickly cascaded over by the usual disapproving anger he was so used to.

She said, “If I didn’t love you, Tayson, I wouldn’t have risked humiliating myself in the first place.”

With that, she threw his door open and stormed out. Tayson got up off his bed and slammed the door shut. After he did, he slammed his eyes shut against the oncoming tears.

#

It was past 11. Madyson lay in bed and was still seething so much she had been angrily reading page after page of a trashy thriller and barely absorbing the words. Patrick was dozing off and on beside her, the end of a game on the TV on top of their dresser. A loud snore made her fantasize even more about the cheating and murderous wife in her book. Finally, he snorted and woke up, looking around sleepily, then turned to her. He asked if she was still up which she replied with a curt, “What’s it look like?”

“How was Tayson?” he asked.

“Fine,” Madyson said with a hard flapping turn of a page. Obviously she didn’t mean it.

“Sure you weren’t too hard on him?”

“No,” she said, thinking back to the harsh words exchanged between them.

Patrick shrugged then turned off the TV and rolled over to finally go to sleep. But, bringing up her argument with Tayson had only stoked the fires inside Madyson. How could he be so foolish? She tried to rationalize that he was young, not even turning 14 until October, and that it had, indeed, been his prized, disgusting drawings that had been ruined. Maybe I could’ve been a little gentler with him, she thought. I could’ve made those boys leave, but their parents assured me they’d punish them. She shook her head. What am I thinking? It’s not like he’s drawing Picassos or whatever, it’s just gross, disgusting monsters. It’s not worth worrying over. What is is Tayson wasting his time and his talent on them.

Then an idea struck her.

There’s the downtown arts fest happening in a couple weeks. I could take him and show him some real art, talk to real artists, get his talents focused in the right direction. She smiled and closed her book. Maybe he’ll be a true artist yet.

#

The downtown promenade, with its renovated shops and restaurants, was bustling with fervor as now tents and booths filled the closed off main thoroughfare. Tayson walked behind Madyson and Patrick, wide eyes soaking in all the pictures, paintings, and photographs on display by local and visiting artists.

Madyson asked, “Well, Tay, what do you think?” as they pushed through the bustling crowds.

Tayson eyed a booth full of photographs of horses. “Very cool. But…”
As they’d been walking, he’d seen immaculate oil paintings of landscapes, charcoal drawings of peoples’ faces, statues of figures and shapes, and more than he could imagine. What he didn’t see were any monsters, aliens, demons, not even dinosaurs. Maybe some wildlife photography and paintings caught his eye, but that was about it. Just the kind of art his parents and their friends would enjoy buying and hanging in their homes, not the kind he’d see in comics and manga or in video games and movies.

“But what?” asked Madyson.

Tayson shrugged and said, “It’s all kinda… normal.”
Madyson rolled her eyes. “Look around! Just imagine if you had your own booth. You could be making a killing with your skills.”
Tayson lit up.

“And the appropriate subject matter, of course,” his mother added.

He pouted.

“I wonder if there’s a beer tent?” Patrick asked.

Madyson said, “Dear, if you want to find us some food and yourself something to drink, you’re more than welcome to. Tayson and I can take care of ourselves.”
Patrick pecked Madyson on the cheek and was off, leaving Tayson and Madyson to walk alone by themselves. They continued passing by booth after booth, Madyson stopping to gawk at expensive landscapes and paintings of squares, circles, and random colors and splashes of paint that were inscrutable to Tayson. Soon though, he was studying the black and white sketches of wild animals.

Madyson walked up behind him. “What did you find?”

“Wow,” was all he could say.

The artist, a young man maybe ten years older than him, arms littered with tattoos and piercings in his ears, walked up. “See something you like?”
Tayson pointed to a mostly black picture of a tiger with its stripes, claws, and teeth in white. “I love this! How’d you do it?”

“Thanks, kid. I took the photo myself at the zoo and then sketched it in black and white.”

Madyson placed a hand on his shoulder. “My son likes sketching.”
“Oh really?” asked the artist, eyeing Tayson’s mother a little too long. “What do you like to draw?”

“Monsters and stuff!” Tayson blurted out. “Y’know, like aliens from movies and Resident Evil monsters and stuff.”
The artist smirked condescendingly. “Not bad. But, there’s nothing like the real things.” He looked up at Madyson. “I bet your mom’s as fierce as a tiger herself.”

Madyson put a finger to her lips. “Only when I’m provoked.”

The artist chuckled, and Tayson felt his interest waning like it had been pushed downhill. Madyson and he began talking, and Tayson went back to looking at the art, his interest in the artist dying. It was good art, and he could see himself doing something like it. But it just didn’t scratch the itch of something made purely from imagination.

His eyes drifted outside to the other booths and vendors. “Mom?” he said. “I’m gonna take a look around.”
But Madyson was busy laughing at something the artist said as he showed her one of his tattoos. Tayson rolled his eyes and strolled away. Soon he was lost among paintings, portraits, sculptures, and scribbles, most of it looking like the kind of respectable art his mom wanted him to make, not the kind that actually drew anything from his soul. Before long, he was standing as the crowd surged around him wondering where she and his dad were and when they were going home.

Then, his something tugged at his ears. “Art supplies!”

He spun around and approached a booth at one of the closed off intersections. “Handmade Art Supplies!” read a sign. Sun shining in his eyes, Tayson strolled into the humble tent and found himself surrounded by brushes, pencils, and paints. But what caught his eyes were the row upon row of leatherbound books of every color lining the booth’s walls.

“Hello, young man!” asked a gorgeous woman about his mother’s age, with deep yellow blonde hair wearing a punk rock band T-shirt and chain bracelets on her wrists dangling tiny locks.

“Hi,” he said, as gobsmacked by her beauty as he was by her merchandise.

“Looking for something?”

“I, uh… are those sketchbooks?”

She glanced behind her and beamed. “They are! My son and I hand make everything we sell.”
Tayson saw a young man about three or four years older than him standing behind her wearing a shirt with a skull with a wagging tongue who was busy helping a customer, an older gentleman, buying some paint brushes.

“You can pick them up if you want to look,” she said.

Tayson all but jumped at the wall of sketchbooks. He picked up a blue one with a diamond studded pattern that was about six by eight inches. He opened it to see fine, thick, pure white paper. He put it back then went for another, a green one, maybe 10 by 12, with a leather strap clasp and pure white paper. Then, another, shiny black leather exterior, four by six, with aged brownish paper and a long red ribbon placeholder.

“These are amazing,” he said as he felt the paper and the weight of the books.
“Thank you,” the gorgeous clerk said. “They take a while to make. We sell a lot at renaissance fairs.”

“How much are they?”

“There’s a tag.”

Tayson finally noticed the small tag hanging by a piece of string. His stomach hopped into his throat when he saw the price of $60.

“That’s a lot,” he whispered.

He checked the others and saw that the six by eight books were $80 and the 10 by 12 ones were $100 on up.

“Yes,” the pretty clerk said with a hint of regret. “We put a lot of work into them, so they do cost a lot.”

Tayson held the book, not even the largest or one he liked the most, like it was a friend he was seeing leave on their last day of school, and put it back on the rack. “I’d really like one,” he said. “But I don’t have that much.” And he doubted he’d get his mom to hand out that much for something she probably thought he’d fill with nonsense.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said.

Tayson heaved out a sigh. “I hate it. I just lost my last sketcbhook, too.”

“Oh?”
He went on to tell her the tale of his disemboweled and drowned sketchbook from two weeks ago. Pity for him and anger at his injustice filled her face.

“That’s dreadful!” she told him. “So you liked to draw monsters?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I love monsters! Aliens, demons, all kinds. My mom hates it. It drives her crazy.”

She nodded thoughtfully. Then, a gleam entered her eye and she looked to a box underneath the racks of books on the wall. She knelt down, Tayson glancing away from her nice protruding posterior, and pulled out a simple eight by ten book bound in plain brown leather.

“This was a custom piece we were working on,” she explained, “but as you can see, the leather got scratched up pretty bad.”

Tayson nodded. It did look like a lion had clawed at the exterior.

The clerk held the book to her chest and smirked. “What have you got on you?”

Tayson practically yanked his wallet out of his pocket. “Is $20 good?”

He held the money out and the clerk mischievously snatched it up and shoved the book into his hands. Tayson opened it and flipped through the pages, imagining all the things he could fill it with. It felt like he’d had a missing limb reattached.

“Thank you!” he said.

The clerk leaned down until her amazing face was inches from his. “Now, don’t mind your mom. You go on and fill that with all the monsters and creatures you can imagine.”

He beamed at her. “Thank you so much!” Then, he deflated some. “I just hate to think what she’ll say when she sees it.”
“Don’t worry, honey.” She put a hand on his shoulder, making him turn beet red and his pants tighten. “I’m sure she’ll come around.”

With another thank you, Tayson was out the booth and sprinting down the promenade like he’d just learned how to run. He found Madyson and Patrick a few minutes later, him with a beer, her a glass of wine and a soda.

“There you are!” she said as he approached. “Find something?”

Tayson shrugged like it was no big thing. “Oh, nothing. Just a new handmade sketchbook.”
“I see! So, has seeing some of this art inspired you?”

“You could say that.” He grinned.

She narrowed an eye conspicuously at him, then smiled. “Okay. Here’s a soda. C’mon, let’s keep walking.”

Tayson took the drink, sipped, and followed his parents. But as they continued through the art fair, all he could think of was what he’d draw first when he got home.

#

When they got home, Tayson wasn’t the only member of the Wianwright family to bring in something art related. Patrick had picked up a foil embossed painting of Nolan Ryan pitching, and Madyson got a painting of tropical frogs for the pool house. After Patrick excused himself to go hang out and watch a game with his buddies, Madyson recruited Tayson to help her hang the painting in the pool house.

“There,” she said after having him realign it multiple times.

He stood beside her to admire his work. “Looks good to me,”

“Me too,” she said. “Isn’t it a gorgeous piece?”
Tayson admired how the paint seemed to drip the frog into existence and how the colorful plants contrasted with the red-eyed blue and green frog. “It is. Good choice, Mom.”

“Thank you, Tay.” She took a breath. “I could you see painting something like this.”
“Really?” It felt like balloons were lifting his chest up.

“Oh, yes. Certainly prettier than those monsters you prefer.”
It felt like the balloons popped. He kept a deflated, ‘Oh,” from escaping his lips.

Madyson glanced outside. “There’s still an hour or so of light left. I think I’ll have a drink and get in the pool. Care to join me?”

It felt like he’d just sink to the bottom if he got in. “No thanks, Mom,” he said. “I think I’ll just go play some games or something.”
She shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.”
He was in the kitchen making himself something to drink when Madyson came down the stairs in just a white and gold bikini and holding a towel. Tayson wasn’t dumb, he knew his mother was gorgeous. But seeing her beauty that didn’t appreciate his own gross weirdness, not only that, but was angered by it, made him feel all the more lonesome and gruesome. He avoided looking at her spectacular curves as she sashayed out the back patio doors into the remaining sunlight.

Tayson, suddenly feeling disgusting and unloved, decided to take it out on his sketchbook. Soon he was up in his bedroom hovering over the new sketcbhook laid out on his desk like he was being called to write holy verse.

What was it the pretty blonde clerk had said? “Fill that with all the monsters and creatures you can imagine”?

Mom liked that frog painting, he thought. I’ll make up the slimiest, wartiest, most disgusting monster frog I can think of!

Imaging frogs possessed by demons, mutated by viruses, or just evolved beyond belief, Tayson took his freshly sharpened pencil and, with only a moment’s hesitation over the gorgeous blank page, spent 30 minutes sketching, erasing, then redrawing, coloring and shading a frog monster. It was colored a sickly blue and green with yellowing warts all over its slimy body, angry red eyes, a long pink tongue lolling out of its giant wide, round mouth, filled with small knobby teeth, and had long, grasping, webbed fingers and toes.

She likes the frog painting, he thought angrily, I’ll give her frogs!

#

Madyson swam languidly in the large pool, the early evening summer sun still cascading down onto her even as it declined down the sky. She had maybe 15 minutes of natural light left, but then could of course turn on the pool’s lights. The water was just on the side of cold, and had tingled her body as she slowly waded in. Now, she was warm and alive as she floated and swam up and down the pool’s length.

She leaned back and floated, staring up at the dimming sky soon to be filled with stars. She felt her muscles loosening from her tense workout the day before. She’d always been in shape, though now as a late 30 something mother she needed to be extra cautious. Which was a nice thing about the pool, letting her workout and relax at the same time. And, since it was still early June, the summer nights would be just cool enough to allow reasonable use of pool’s connected hot tub. She sighed and stroked backward, her breasts ambling up and down in the water. Her bikini felt almost strangling on her, as it always did when she was alone. And if she wasn’t sure Tayson was upstairs, or if at least he was absorbed in a video game, she’d have removed if and swam naked. But she couldn’t risk traumatizing her poor son, even with a body as well toned and gorgeous as hers. And besides, their high white stucco walls prevented anybody from looking in, the back wall faced undeveloped land beyond their gated community, and their only neighbors were in Europe for a month.

Finally, the sun sank below walls. Soon, the automatic timer would light up the pool. It felt to Madyson like the perfect time to adjourn to the hot tub with a nice drink. She strode up the steps out of the pool, cool air tingling her skin, and went to the small bar in the back patio and poured herself a glass of champagne. Then, she sauntered over and slipped into the hot tub, turning it up just enough to warm her.

As she drank and warmed, it was truly a temptation not to strip down. After all, her towel was within reach in case Tayson came outside. Glancing back at the house, she rationalized that while his room was on the other side of the house and faced the undeveloped land out back, he could still walk down the hall or come down to the kitchen and see her. But after another sip and a few seconds, she thought, Hell with it! and undid her top and slipped her bottom off, setting them on the hot tub’s ledge beside her towel. I can just cover myself with my towel and he can just deal with it.

She leaned against the tub’s ledge as the water began to heat amid the sun’s dying rays. Her thoughts drifted, to the handsome artist flirting with her that morning and how seriously tempted she might have been under certain circumstances, how Patrick was out with the boys again and their own perfunctory sex life, that it had only been truly wild when they were trying to make Tayson, and then, with a sigh, her thoughts turned to her son.

That boy… Madyson thought, then took a bitter, bubbly sip. All I do for him and he just lives in his own horrid fantasy world. She took a bigger sip. Maybe today really got to him, thought. He seemed fascinated by that handsome man’s animal art, and he liked the painting I purchased for the pool house. She took another drink and smiled, thinking, I bet today will be a real turning point for him.

The last bit of sunlight finally died, leaving her comfortably hidden in the dark. The bubbles tickled her brain, and she leaned back and kicked lazy splashes in the water.

It covered the sound of something slipping into the pool.

Madyson stared up at the dark sky, thoughts dancing in her head as her body warmed in the hot. She reached for her glass for another sip when something splashed by her feet at the point where the hot tub connected to the pool.

“Patrick?” she drunkenly asked. “Did you get home early?”

Then the timer kicked the lights on, and Madyson saw it wasn’t her husband climbing into the hot tub. It wasn’t even somebody. It was something.

It stood at least five feet tall, almost a head shorter than her but still too tall for what the frog-like thing it was. It had long fingers with almost round, suction-like tips grasping the edge of the hot tub as it lifted itself out of the pool. Its body shone in the blue pool lights as a ghastly blue and green with hideous yellow warts all over, coated in slime. But worst of all were the red eyes, red as a blood moon, staring at her with hideous horizontal irises atop a round, bulbous mouth. A smell like dirt and rotten flesh filled her nostrils.

It took only a blink for Madyson to go from slightly inebriated, warm, and relaxed to frigid with horror. She opened her mouth to scream, but before the sound could escape, the giant frog had opened its mouth and exploded its tongue out, ramming it into her open mouth and splattering her face with thick saliva. Finally she did scream, but the sound was muffled by the thick, muscular thing worming around inside her mouth, the awful taste of its rancid tongue on hers, its saliva rivuleting warmly down her throat.

She kicked up water as she turned and tried to run out of the hot tub, but the frog creature’s tongue elongated out of its mouth, roping around her chest, squeezing between her breasts, and then pinning her arms helplessly to her side just above the elbow. With a yank it pulled her back, slamming her naked back and rear against its disgustingly lukewarm, slimy skin, somehow more slippery than the water yet impossible to escape.

Then, its hands were on her breasts, long thing, muscular fingers grabbing her like she was a piece of meat. Its round, suction-cup like fingertips pulled at her skin. She thrashed against its grasp, but its massive tongue and thin, sinewy arms were inescapable. All the while, its tongue wiggled about in her mouth, thick and all but gagging her and choking her screams in a forced, unstoppable frog french kiss, the long, membranous length of it around her body massaging her bests and squeezing her lover-tight like a boa constrictor.

Still, she kicked up water, making loud splashes with her free legs. She tried to kick and jump away, but it proved impossible. Maybe the noise would attract attention? Maybe Patrick would come home soon and rescue her from this unbelievable living nightmare? Maybe even Tayson might see and come to her rescue?

And then, to her disgust, its round finger tips began tugging at her nipples. A strange feeling began to seep into her skin from her contact with its mucusy flesh, making her body hotter, her legs quiver, her eyes dilate, and to her shock, her pussy warm. And as she squirmed against it and it pressed against her, she felt something begin to protrude from between its legs against her exposed rear.

All the things happening to her body, the constricting, choking tongue, the grabbing hands, the hot sensation soaking into her skin, was all too much. But the thing that was beginning to poke at her round butt? That was too much. Only able to breath through her nose, she began hollering as loudly as she could, thrashing as hard as possible. But, all she managed to do was get the area around the hot tub well, all that happened was that she tired herself out.

Nobody came to her rescue. Madyson was helpless.

As she struggled more against the frog thing’s body, it finally released its molesting grab of her breasts and took hold of her hips. Strong fingers dug into her flank and thighs, stilling some of her thrashing. Its tongue remained in place, almost massaging her body and chest. Then, they began to spread her legs apart. Madyson managed to turn her head just enough to see, past its uncaring, inhuman eyes, through the saliva coating her face and the her loose, stuck hair, as her rear and back bounced against the things’ belly, something long, thick, and slick like a tail extend from between its legs. Its pointed head began to poke at her thighs as it slid towards her.

To her horror, her body almost welcomed it as the tip pressed against her pussy.

No no no! she thought but was powerless to do anything. She clenched her hot pussy tight, but the head slid easily between her lips. Then, as it gripped her tight, the frog rammed its hips forward and plunged its cock into her, slick and slimy, thick and wart covered. Madyson let out one last bellowing scream, and then its tongue was down her throat. Her own saliva ran down her pouty lips as they compulsively sucked on the frog creature’s tongue.

Help! her mind screamed. Somebody! Patrick! Tayson!

#

Tayson, having finished his drawing and spent more than enough time admiring it, had then sighed, felt like it was another great work nobody would admire but him, and then relegated himself to playing video games. So, he’d put his headphones on, turned down the lights, and booted up an indie horror game on his gaming rig. But, within a few minutes, he was too, albeit pleasantly, creeped out to keep playing. Shuddering with joy, he decided he needed some dessert and so, descended down to the kitchen.

He descended the stairs, light from the hall above all there was to see, towards the darkened kitchen. He was about to flick the lights on when he caught sight of movement out the large windows facing the backyard. He could see the pool lights were on, and his mother was in the hot tub. But what was she doing? It looked like she was leaning against the hot tub ledge. But…

Is she naked? Oh my god! And is somebody in there with her?
Then, as he stepped closer, his eyes all but bulged out of their sockets as he saw what he had drawn was in the hot tub with his mom, and he realized what it was doing to her. It was like he’d been punched in the gut and all the air had left his lungs.

Mom?! he thought.

Running up to the window, he could see some sort of strange frog monster fucking Madyson hard from behind, its hands on her hips, its tongue wrapped around her naked body and plunged deep into her mouth. Her head was turned and her eyes glued to the monster having its way with her, terror splayed across her face. Tayson was about to throw the door open and run to her rescue, but his hand stopped, hovering inches from the door knob.

What am I going to do? What can I do?

He stared at the unbelievable sight unfolding in his backyard. A monster was fucking his mother! What could he do, run up and hit it? He wasn’t strong or athletic at all. Beg it to stop?

And as he stared transfixed at the sight, wondering what to do, he finally recognized the creature from his sketchbook.

Is that… my monster?!

He felt like fainting. Not only had his drawing come to life somehow, but it was fucking, no, raping his mother. Though he was inside, he could just make out the splashing and almost hear her strangled pleas.

Did… did I do this?

She squirmed its grasp, splashing more water about as it rammed her from behind. The realization that somehow he had caused this happen to her almost made him vomit. He felt unsteady, weak at the knees.

What am I doing? I need to save her!

Then another thought entered his mind, of his own pleas for her to help him save his art from bullies from his school she’d invited to his home, of all the times he’d shown off his newest work of art only for her to either roll her eyes or stare in revulsion, of how he’d all but begged her to accept him as he was while she’d done nothing but make him feel almost unwanted by his own mother.

Why?

He pulled his hand back from the knob and retreated into the darkness of the kitchen, his eyes still glued to the sight of her being used by a monster, by his monster. His breathing grew rapid, his blood hot, and he couldn’t stop from noticing the bulge growing in his pants.

Why should I save her? he thought as he continued watching.

#

The frog’s cock filled Madyson’s pussy, its warts rubbing against her G-spot. That and whatever chemical the slime off its skin was producing just made her more aroused. Her jaw worked weak gasping cries out as the frog monster’s tongue continued ramming her throat. With all her struggles to shake off the thing, she’d only grown weaker. Or was she succumbing to what it was doing to her?

No… no, help! Somebody help me!

But her strangled cries were turning to strangled moans, her eyes were beginning to roll into the back of her head, and her toes were starting to curl.

The awful creature reared back and shoved its cock into her again.

Somebody…

Her hips smacked against the thing’s as it shoved its cock into her, each thrust penetrating deeper and deeper into her. Tears fell out Madyson’s eyes as she sucked the frog’s tongue and moaned into it. Surely this horrible experience, this forced, inhuman pleasure was nothing but a bad dream? But she could feel the pain as its cock went deeper and deeper into her pussy, its grip tighten on her hips, its tongue, almost sweet tasting, all but squeeze the air from her lungs.

Then, it began pounding her harder, faster, groaning croaks escaping its open drooling mouth.

Is it going to? No… No!

But as it fucked her harder and faster, she realized she was getting closer, too. She clenched her pussy tight to try and stop the oncoming pleasure, but that just made her grip its cock firmer.

“Uuuuhhh… oooooohhhm…” she moaned out of her full mouth.

Water, slime, saliva flew everywhere as the frog jackhammered Madyson. Her breasts heaved up and down between its licking hold on her torso, and her head began wobbling as she lost all control.

I can’t cum to this thing! I can’t I can’t I… oohhh…

“Hrrm… guuuhh…” she tried to gasp.

She shuddered and shook in the frog thing’s embrace, loud smacks emanating from them as it fucked her. It croaked gurgling, pleased sounds along with her choked moans. Then, it’s hips quaked. Madyson could feel it coming for both of them.

No, no, no, noooohhhaahh…

“Oooohhaaaaah!” she bellowed into its tongue as she climaxed on its wart covered cock. Her limbs quaked like wet noodles, electric pleasure curling her toes.

Then, the frog pulled back and plunged as hard and deep as it could into her and began unleashing load after load of hot, slimy cum into her. Madyson could feel it filling her up and overflowing, rivuleting down her thighs and into the hot tub. She gasped and tried to breathe, finding she was getting just enough air through her nostrils.

The frog thing shook against her as it came, its grip on her hips and thighs vise firm, its tongue almost cracking her body. Then, it began to relax against her, its tongue loosened and unwound around her. When it finally plopped out of Madyson’s mouth, she gasped like a drowning woman and let out weak, barely audible moans.

“Oooh… godd… no…” she whimpered.

All the energy going out of it, the frog collapsed against her, head on her back like a spent lover, and the two sank together into the hot tub. Madyson blinked the tears away and sucked in welcome breaths. She leaned against the ledge as the monster slipped off her and into the water.

What… did I enjoy… oh, god!

Her body still trembling, Madyson pushed herself up onto her forearms to take stock of her surroundings. Smacking her lips full of saliva and slime, which also coated her body, awful, thick cum spilling out of her into the hot tub, she glanced behind her to see what had become of the frog monster.

It was gone. She was alone in the hot tub, exhausted, coated and filled with horrible secretions, and, blinking at her naked solitude, in shock as to what had just happened.

She began to scream, then covered her mouth, shut her eyes, and let the tears come. After a few minutes of quiet weeping and moaning, she turned to the house.

#

Tayson had watched the two of them fuck like he was watching a nature documentary and a horror movie at the same time. All the while, to his surprise, his penis had only hardened and swollen. When they both finally finished, he grew woozy and took a moment to realize he’d been holding his breath for he didn’t know how long.

Then, the frog had slipped off his mother and into the hot tub. When Madyson came to and began looking around, it seemed gone.

He watched as she cried, and fought every impulse to rush out and hug her. But fear, shame, and excitement kept him in the dark kitchen.

Suddenly, Madyson looked to the house. Tayson froze. Did she see him? He watched as she slowly stood out of the hot tub on unsteady legs and reached for her half-soaked towel. Then, gingerly picking up her bikini, she made her way to the house.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he whispered as he backed out of the kitchen. He ran for the stairs and practically flew up them to his room. He put his headphones on, turned his game back and, with one last thankful thought, closed his sketchbook and shoved it between his bed’s mattresses. His shaking hands took hold of the controller and he began to play, albeit very poorly. After a few minutes, his breathing had calmed and he had quick shaking. The question was, where was his mom?

Maybe she’s calling the cops? he thought. Oh god, what will they do if they find my sketchbook? Or maybe she’s calling Dad to get him home now! Or maybe-

“Tayson?”

He almost jumped out of his skin as he heard his named yelled. He pulled off his headset and spun to find his mother standing in his doorway clad in a white robe, her wet hair plastered messily to her head.

“Y-Yeah?” he said.

She practically whispered, “I said, are you okay?”

He swallowed. Had she seen him? Did she know? Or had he even imagined everything?

“I’m good,” he said. “Just, uh, scared. Y’know, scary game.”

She nodded weakly and began to turn, then stopped to ask him, “Did you, um, see or hear anything?”
He blinked rapidly. “Like… in the game?”

“No, no, uh, just now, outside.”

Her eyes were wide and her lips trembled. He had difficulty staring at her, but couldn’t not.

“No. Why, did you hear something?”

She sputtered a laugh. “No, I… no, it’s nothing.”

“Oh. Okay.”

With one last, long glance at him, she stepped out and pulled his door to. He listened until she closed her own door far down the hall, then put his headphones back on. His hands held the controller, but he didn’t play.

He looked down at his pants. His hardness still made them poke up like a tent.

He fumbled through a few in-game deaths then decided it was time for bed, though the was far from sleepy. After turning the lights off, getting into just his boxers and sliding into bed, he proceeded to stare up at the ceiling. Eventually, his dad came home, but the only noise he made or that Tayson heard was from him opening and closing his and his mom’s bedroom door. Then, Tayson was free to try and sleep.

What did I do to my Mom? he wondered all throughout a mostly sleepless night until he finally passed out from worry, all the while, his mind on the leatherbound collection of paper hidden below him like a time bomb.

#

 The next morning, Tayson awoke at the first light of dawn through his windows. He had slept maybe three hours, and felt like a high-strung cat as he shot out of bed and ran to his bathroom. It was Sunday, and while he and his parents weren’t regular church going types, today he hoped his parents wanted to go.

Could he ever forgive himself for what he’d done?

I didn’t mean to, he thought. But, he hadn’t stopped it. In fact, he fought against remembering that he’d thought she’d deserved it.

Then, he took his eyes off the burgeoning sunrise and stared at his closed bedroom door, as though any moment now Madyson might burst in and accuse him of something. But, she didn’t.

The minutes slowly passed until he braved going downstairs. The house was quiet and the kitchen was empty save for early morning sunlight. He thought his mom might make breakfast, she did most weekends, but doubted she would this morning. So he sat at the kitchen table, still debating what, if anything, to do.

Footsteps sounded down the stairs. He sat up straight as a rebar rod. But it was only his dad, coming down the stairs in his bathrobe with a slouch and rubbing his head. He gave Tayson a half-hearted wave and then headed for the coffee pot, already bubbling. Likely he’d had a few with his friends after the game was over and was paying the price now.

“How’re you doing?” Patrick asked after making himself a cup of coffee and leaning against the sink.

“Good, good,” Tayson lied. “How’re you?”

Patrick rubbed his head. “I’ll be okay after breakfast.”

“Good, good. How’s, uh, how’s Mom?” Tayson dared to ask.

“I’m fine,” she said.

His head jerked to her as she came down the stairs. He hadn’t even heard her. She wore a blue T-shirt and white yoga pants, and he tried not to think that he’d seen what was under them. She looked sleepy but seemed fine as she made her own cup of coffee, filling it with sugar and cream. She sipped from the steaming mug and leaned against the kitchen island.

“What do you want for breakfast?” she asked.

“I, uh…” Tayson said. “What did you feel like?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing in particular. Well, nothing too complicated either.”
“Uh… I think just some cereal.”

She nodded and turned to the pantry, asking him which one he wanted. He said Coco Puffs and she proceeded to make him a bowl of it and set it in front of him like everything in the world was normal. He slowly ate, eyes on her as she went about the kitchen, kissing Patrick on the cheek while making herself a bowl of cottage cheese, berries, and chia seeds. When she took her place at the table with him, it proved difficult not to stare at her, knowing what he’d seen the night before.

Or had he seen it?
Maybe I imagined the whole thing, he thought, watching her chew and look at her phone. She looks so… normal.

Patrick sat down and nursed his coffee. Soon they were talking their old, non specific conversations, Patrick about the game and his night out with his pals, Madyson about her social schedule the upcoming week, and Tayson occasionally interjecting with barely-acknowledged talk about the game he was playing or movie he’d just seen, though everything he said that morning felt forced.

Then, Madyson said, “How would we all feel about going to church tonight?”

Patrick nodded his approval. “It’s been a while. Good idea, hun.”

Tayson said, “Uh, yeah, good idea, Mom.”

She gave a small smile and took the last bite of her breakfast.

Tayson downed the chocolatey milk in his bowl and hopped out of his seat, offering to take hers to the sink and do the few dishes as well. Madyson thanked him for his thoughtfulness and he filled the dishwasher more gratefully than he ever had. When he finished his parents had gone back upstairs.

Yeah, he thought. I just imagined what happened last night. It felt so real, though. And why would I see Mom that way? God…

He was about to head back up to his room and chock the whole event up to over-imaginative late-night gaming hysteria when he glanced out the back windows to the pool. Everything seemed normal, except that the door to the pool house was cracked open. He walked outside to it and saw that the place where he and Madyson had hung the frog painting was now bare. A quick, frantic search of the house produced nothing. But, he saw through the front living room windows that something had been placed on the curb in front of their house. Tayson threw the front door wide and ran out. There, propped up against he curb, was the frog painting, tilted on its side.

Oh, shit! he thought.

He, quickly and quietly as he could, ran back up to his room, locked the door, and retrieved the sketchbook from inside his bed. Had he cast a spell with his skills somehow? Was the sketchbook magic? Or was some sort of demon taunting him? He opened to the first page to see his colored drawing of the frog still there like a bloody thumbprint on a murder weapon.

But the picture of the monstrous frog, the only thing he’d draw in it so far, was no longer the only picture inside. On the other side of the page the frog was on was a new picture, sketched in pencil then colored in. It was of his mother, bent over the ledge of the hot tub, fucked by the frog, its tongue wrapped around her body and shoved down her throat, a look of pure, ecstatic terror on her face.

A matching look of horror now mirrored itself on Tayson’s face. He definitely did not draw that. But, there the picture of his was of his mother’s rape by the frog creature he’d in his unmistakable style as if he had drawn it.

He slammed the book shut. Gotta get rid of this! he thought. He could burn it, but had no idea how to start a fire in their fireplace. And he couldn’t throw it away for fear that Madyson might find it. But as he held the thing, even though it only contained one sketch done by him, and had somehow drawn in itself, he knew he couldn’t get rid of it.

What else can it do?

The idea, the guilt, the shame, the possibilities, made him hide it away in the bottom of his laundry basket. Madyson had recently made him start doing his own laundry, and knew she’d never check there.

Still, he thought, I’d better research this and the people who sold it to me.

But all he found were movies and books about drawings coming to life, and he never noticed the name of the people who sold him the sketchbook, nor did it itself have any identifying signatures, marks, or web sites written or etched in it. So, with quivering fingers, he placed it back beneath his soiled underwear and socks.

Tayson did not draw another picture for a while.

#

As the weeks passed, Tayson kept the sketchbook hidden like a gun that might go off. Then, one day, he became angry enough to pull the trigger and pencil something in it.

Patrick was out of town on business, and for days it had been just he and his mom. Madyson busied herself with her social calendar, mostly with mothers and women from their sporadically attended church, which he didn’t mind, wives of some of Patrick’s friends, which he also didn’t mind, and mothers of his fellow classmates, which he did mind. She also increased her workout routine as summer pressed on, going from just running a few times a week to body movement and strength training exercises as well as getting her old bike in working order and taking it out, sometimes dragging Tayson along as well. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was doing something to offset what had happened, if she was trying to push past the trauma, or get her feelings out. She never brought up what happened in even the smallest way, or at least in any way he could tell. But guilt over what had happened stuck in the back of his mind like an itch he couldn’t do anything to scratch.

Then one June day, as he eating leftover pizza and she was having a salad, she said, “I haven’t seen you draw much lately.”

Tayson struggled to not stare bug-eyed at her. He only paused between bites and then chewed slowly to think of a response.

Does she suspect? he wondered. Does she know?

He swallowed and said, “I haven’t felt really inspired lately. Mostly just been gaming and watching stuff.”

She nodded then. “That’s good. What have you been watching and playing?”
He blinked. Was she actually interested in the horror and scifi games and shows he liked? She didn’t give him free rein to just watch or play whatever he wanted, as long as it wasn’t too gory or had too much sex in it, which felt horribly ironic to him now. But still, was she actually curious?

She might also be trying to figure out if I was somehow behind the frog, he thought. But, the idea that she was interested in what he was interested in was too much.

“I found the indie horror game called Tentacle Factory I’ve been playing,” he said, “You’re tasked with making toy monsters for a toy company, but the factory itself may be an actual, like, eldritch space monster or something. I’m not sure yet. And I’ve been watching an anime called Berserk about this swordsman who goes around killing evil monsters and-”

But Madyson winced like she smelled something bad and lifted her hand up to halt him. “I get it.”

“Is… is something wrong?”

Maybe I should just tell her? he wondered.

She took another sip and said, “I just thought if you weren’t drawing foolish things that you’d put watching and drawing them behind you. That maybe you were going to use your artistic skills on real things.”

“Oh.” He all but deflated like a balloon into his chair.

“It’s just… you’re so talented, Tay.”
Proud air lifted up his lungs.

“But,” Madyson continued, “you waste it on such awful things like those gruesome movies and comics and I don’t know what else. You could be doing so much with your art! Painting beautiful landscapes, drawing animals, figure drawing people, I don’t know! Instead, you’re just so interested in such grotesque things that infest your brain. And when the other mothers talk about their sons playing sports or going on missionary trips or what have you, what am I supposed to say?”

Tayson said nothing.

Madyson shook her head and sighed. “I’m going to meet some girls for lunch. Why don’t you go for a swim or do something other than fill your head with monsters like… like cockroaches infest a house?”

Tayson was still as she stood and left, slouched over his unfinished pizza. His appetite gone, he merely sat and stared at the table. Then, his eyes narrowed.

Who does she think she is? he thought. Better yet, who does she think I am? Does she think I’m just some weird monster she has to put up with because I’m her son? He slunk further into the chair. Maybe I am. I am the weird kid at school even the other outcasts barely have anything to do with. But, she’s my mom! She’s supposed to have my back no matter what! Instead she treats my interests, she treats me, like… like she said! Like I’m a cockroach infesting her house!

He clenched his shaking fists and steadied his quivering lips as his face went from palid to angry red.

Cockroaches, huh?

#

It had been three weeks since it happened, and in that time Madyson had done everything from exercising, socializing, wining, dining, all but finding a therapist or priest to talk to, in order to put what happened behind her. Nothing like it had ever happened to her. Hell, she doubted anything like it had ever happened to anybody! Online searches had only introduced her to the disturbing world of hentai, which brought up such painful, terrifying feelings that she almost broke her laptop slamming the lid down. She almost worried that Tayson could draw things like that, but she’d never seen anything reaching such levels of perversity in his art, thank god, and he wasn’t really even drawing recently, double thank god, so she could put that worry out of her head.

Sometimes that boy seems positively non-sexual, she had thought. If I didn’t know he’d had crushes on girls at school, I’d have wondered.

Still, she couldn’t put what had happened to her behind her. The nightmares woke her up in a cold sweat. She would only near, much less into, the pool during the day and when Patrick or Tayson were near. And every so often, something would trigger her memory of it, be it the splash from Tayson jumping into the pool while she was sunbathing or Patrick drunkenly fumbling on top of her, during which she clenched her eyes shut and tried not to feel it again as he came in her or if he managed to make her climax. She could still taste its tongue, feel its slime-coated skin, feel its cock inside her. She would shudder, try and push the thoughts away, and get on with whatever she was doing.

And yet, it had been the most intense orgasm she had ever felt. Though she dared not think those words, she couldn’t entirely push away the feelings, however terrifying, the sensations, however grotesque, the pleasure, however unwanted.

It was just something in its slime, was the most she would tell herself. Some toxin it produced. I had no choice but to feel… what I felt.

She was thinking those very thoughts that June day as she showered after her workout, the feeling of the water rinsing her helping cleanse her mind as well. She would go out with the girls, have a few mimosas, come home and make dinner for she and Tayson, then watch some trashy TV with some wine, and it would be another normal, boring day.

She sighed. Another boring day. She should be so lucky. And grateful.

Yet…

Could something like this be happening to other people? she thought as water ran down her toned body. Could other women out there be fucked by monsters in secret? Am I actually part of some strange, elite club full of women with tales to unbelievable to tell?

She breathed in the steam from the hot water and exhaled hotter air from her lungs. The frog thing’s tongue had choked her, but felt so satisfying to suck and kiss. Its skin had been so sickly slimy, and yet had made her so hot. And its cock…

She breathed hotly in and out her nose as her heart beat harder and she thought of going to the bathroom after it had fucked her to squirt its cum out of her pussy, thick and ropy. She’d even bought a morning after pill the next day just in case. After all, it had fucked her good.

No, not fucked, she thought. Raped. It raped me. I was…

Hotter than she’d ever been since she was a hormone filled teenager.

Madyson clenched her eyes and ran water over her head. The conflicting sensations and emotions, the unreality of it all, ricocheted around in her skull. She shook her head and threw the thoughts off. She had things to do that day and a life to live. She quickly finished rinsing and got out.

Within the hour she was at lunch with the girls, which proved pleasantly distracting. They drank heavily and ate lightly at a restaurant busy with a lunch crowd near the river and spent time gossiping about others and complaining about work and bitching about their husbands, only once when discussing their sex lives did Madyson blink and flash back to the frog. But soon one of her friends was talking about dating multiple men at the same time and she and the other ladies were laughing and begging for more info out of her, Madyson even growing a little flustered as she talked about a two-man threesome she was a part of. They spent almost two hours talking before one girl excused herself to pick up her youngest from day-care, thus beginning she and the others scurrying their way.

The remnants of a pleasant buzz bubbling in her brain, Madyson decided she’d do some shopping, see what was on sale, and then make her way home. As she put on her large round shades, she looked up at the sky and saw only a single, dismal cloud discoloring the pure blue sky. Soon, it would dissipate entirely beneath the glowing sun. Madyson smiled and walked to the nearest upscale boutique. For the first time in almost a month, she felt safe and carefree.

After all, it was the middle of the day. What could happen?

#

Tayson hadn’t been sure how it would work, but he felt confident it would. So, once Madyson had left, he’d unearthed the sketchbook from its burial place under his filthy laundry, admired his work on the frog, stared in shock at the magically-drawn picture of it fucking his mother, and then flipped to the next page, set it down on his desk, and assembled his pencils of charcoal and color, eraser, and begun to draw like he was casting a spell. He began by googling pictures of cockroaches and, finding them not nearly gross enough, began elongating their arms, adding spikes to their legs and carapaces, giving them large, beady, black eyes, dangling antenna, and, with at first unsure then cocky fingers, long, thick cocks extending from the end of their bodies, pink and dripping yellowish ooze.

He laughed to himself. How about some cockroaches, Mom? These will show her!

A part of him felt guilty for what he was doing. His face was the red of a stop sign as he imagined what would happen to his mother. But still, he didn’t stop drawing, though his excited hands wavered. After an hour of hurried, careful, even spiteful work, his page was crawling with three giant roaches. Tayson held the sketchbook up and admired his handy work, late afternoon sunlight cascading over the drawings, threatening to send them scurrying off the page. He set it back down on his desk, and waited.

What happens now? he wondered. Mom’s still out with her friends. Is she gonna be swarmed by these at a restaurant? He cursed himself that he might miss it. Then, he wondered, What does it mean that I want to watch? It means I want to see her punished, of course! But he couldn’t help but wonder if it meant more. Just the thought of seeing Madyson punished by being fucked, no, raped by his monster drawings come to life made his heart race and dick throb.

He leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on his thighs.

So… when does it start? And where is she, anyway?

After thirty minutes of waiting, flipping back and forth between the front and back page and seeing nothing appear, and finally scrolling on his phone, Tayson grew anxious and searched through streaming services until he decided to just watch The Thing again. He was halfway through when he heard Madyson come home and call out to him from downstairs.

“Yeah?” he called back from the top of the stairs.

She appeared at the bottom. “I just got back. What are you doing?”
“Uh, just… gaming. Why?”

“I’m going to change. Why don’t you go for a walk with me? We could take the trail just behind the neighborhood.”
He blinked. Had it already happened and she was just acting normal?

“I think I’m good.”

Madyson put her hands on her hips and huffed. “Suit yourself,” she said, then went up into her bedroom. After a few minutes he saw her come out blue shorts that ended just below her butt, her long legs ending in white running shoes, and a white tank top around her chest. Tayson unconsciously licked his lips at the sight of her. Maybe it just hasn’t happened yet, he thought.

“I’ll be back in a few,” she said, then went down and out the door.

Tayson continued watching the movie for a few minutes before thinking, Wait a minute! Some of those trails are pretty isolated. What if… He quickly put his shoes on and ran down to the front door. It’s about to happen!

#

It was well into the afternoon and the summer sun baked down onto Madyson. She passed a few other people, some women her age, others kids younger than Tayson, but mostly she was by herself. She jogged down the sidewalk and into the dirt trails that ran behind her neighborhood. The sun was bright, she was cool in the shade, and everything was as it should be. I should hit my runner’s high pretty soon! she thought happily. And best of all, her mind was clear. Save for one thing.

I wish Tayson had come out with me. That boy spends too much time in front of a screen. Next time, I’m making him join me!

But on she ran under the shade of trees as a light breeze cooled her exposed skin. The birds sang and insects chirped. She passed fewer and fewer people until, invigorated by her run, decided to take the trail that led farther away from the main one and away from her neighborhood. It would circle back, and she knew in five minute’s time she’d be back and on the downhill slope.

Madyson was halfway down the path, almost to the point where it curved back around, trees to her left and right, when something rustled in the brush a head of her. She skid to a stop, panic flooding her bloodstream. She prepared to bolt in the opposite direction when a squirrel, fluffy and cute, leaped out of the underbrush and scurried past her. After a second, Madyson let out the breath she was holding in her chest.

Get a grip, girl, she told herself. Just a squirrel.

Pausing for a laughing breath, Madyson looked up to the shaded sky. The birds were quiet and the insects had stopped chirping. She felt peaceful quiet for the first time in weeks.

Then she noticed it. A shadow moved in the canopy of oaks, ashes, and pecans. It was the shape of a large leaf or petal, but almost a foot and a half long. What is that? Madyson thought as the dark shape moved along a tree limb.

The shape suddenly stopped and dropped. At first it seemed to Madyson like a bird about to take off. Then, she froze in horror as the familiar form came into view. It was a cockroach, only almost two feet long, with a shiny brown and black carapace, long, spiked legs and giant antenna. Its wings buzzed as it landed on her, its weigh making almost knocking her onto her back, its legs scratching and clawing at her chest as its face and antenna filled her eyes.

Madyson let out a huge scream, but the last person she’d seen was ten minutes ago and she doubted her cry would reach beyond the thick foliage. She flung her arms about to try and throw the creature off, but its claws dug into her shirt and pinched her neck and dug into her hair. Pure black eyes stared uncaring at her as mandibles clacked and drooled warm wetness onto her exposed neck and chest. She pressed against the things thorax, slick and cool, and with a shove tossed it off her, tearing at her flesh and top, exposing her sports bra. The giant cockroach landed on the trunk of a tree, then turned and hissed loudly at her, its antenna waving angrily.

“What the fuck?” Madyson said between panicked breaths. The giant cockroach flapped its wings like it was about to launch itself at her. She kept her eyes on it as she backed away and prepared to run.

Another skittering sound came from behind her, followed by an angry hiss. She spun just in time for another of the giant roaches to fling itself off the ground at her back. Before she could jump away it had clung to her, legs clawing at her back and sides as it began to tear at her yoga pants. No, not at them: it was trying to dig inside them! Madyson screamed, “No!” and grunted as she reached for the thing and tried to pry it away, but it shoved its head into her pants. She could feel its antenna wiggle and mandibles pinch against her toned butt as it wormed into her pants. She instinctively spread her legs and reached behind her to try and grab the end of its abdomen, but it had buried itself inside, hairy, spiked legs tickling her, its carapace cold against her flesh. It dug between her legs which she tried to close, but was too late. It wiggled between her legs, curving its body between them, and poked its awful beady eyed head up from the front of her pants, its antenna waving and mouth nibbling at her stomach, its body pressed against her pussy. Forelegs came out, tearing more at her pants, and gripped her hips. Its other legs grabbed hold of her thighs and butt.

Then, something began to press out from the end of its abdomen.

“Gah!” Madyson cried. She tried pressing against the thing, but its grip was too strong, and it only succeeded in pushing her pants down a little more.

Something long and warm and wet was coming out of the cockroach in her pants, and was beginning to jab at her pussy.

“No!” Madyson begged, pulling at the roach’s arms. “Not again, no!”

It hissed, its body vibrating almost pleasurably against hers, as it jabbed its cock at her pussy. She tried to clench it shut and press her legs together, but the giant insect was too thick and strong. Then, its dick found place and plunged deep inside Madyson, slick and long with hairy feelers all along it. Its legs hooked itself in place against her flesh and began pounding her.

“Oh, goooooood!” Madyson cried, hoping that somebody, anybody, might hear her.

But all that meant was that the cockroach on the tree had a beeline for her open mouth. With a flutter of wings it pounced and landed upside down on her, its abdomen up against her mouth, its face shoved down between her tightly packed cleavage inside her sports bra, and its clawed legs around her head and in her hair, on her neck, and around her chest. Madyson’s screams were quickly muffled as it shoved its short, stubby cock between her terrified lips and began pounding her face. She tried to twist her head away and spit the thing out, but its legs held her in place as it tried to shove its cock to the back of her throat. She breathed through her nostrils as the rancid taste of its slimy, pronged cock slapped against her tongue and tickled her mouth. Her lips worked against it, but all that managed to do was suck it harder.

God, please, no! she thought as she was again used by inhuman monsters seemingly from nowhere. The one in her pants slid back and forth against her G-spot, its hairs tickling her clit. Terror at first kept her upright, but the forceful motions of the horrid creatures was beginning to drag her down. Her knees wobbled then met and they fell into the dirt. She tried pulling at the one fucking her face and pushing at the one in her pants, but they were too strong and heavy to be removed.

Then, another hiss sounded from behind her. Madyson glanced back in time to see a third cockroach scuttle out from beneath a fallen log and pounce her. It landed on her back and drove her to the ground. Within moments it had shoved its tail into the rear of her yoga pants and a third awful cock was probing at her butt. Madyson rolled and tried to press it off, but with the other two already weighing her down, she was helpless as the third shoved its cock into her ass, its bristly legs with their spiky hairs tickling her, its antenna wiggling on her back and mandibles biting near her spine. Her own hairs stood on end as terror and forced pleasure flooded her bloodstream.

Encased in three of the things, Madyson began rolling on the ground and grabbing at them, hoping to push them off or crush them. But they were strong and weighty, and all she managed to do was tire herself out. As the woods filled with their awful hissing and the wet sounds of them invading her orifices, all Madyson could do was moan futile pleas out of her gagged mouth and think, Not again!

#