Inferno Pt. 03

Part 03: Infernos Dying Down

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

*****

Chapter 1

Eric Greene pulled his van up to the Bender Police Department building and parked in the Handicapped parking slot.

He used to work here; he used to be a cop. Eric Greene had proudly worn his dark blue uniform, used to wear his badge, badge number 4844B921 with pride.

And his wife, Ann Greene used to look at him in his uniform, fling her long blonde hair back and declare she did love a man in uniform. More than once, they'd made love, her in lacy baby doll and him in his uniform.

Eric unlocked his wheelchair and rolled to the side door. He pressed the first button and the door of the van slid open. He pressed the second button and the lift folded out. Then he pushed himself onto the lift and lowered himself to the ground.

"Hey! Go park somewhere else; can't you read? That's for real handicapped people," Officer Steven Hebert yelled at Eric.

Eric looked over at his former colleague and smiled as he raised the lift, then slid the door of the van shut again.

"Kiss my ass, Hebert," Eric said, pushing his chair toward the front door of the building.

"Man, you're looking good," Steven said and bent and hugged the lawyer.

"So are you," Eric smiled, patting his friend on the back.

Eric wheeled into the building, greeted a few more former colleagues, then signed in and wheeled into the reception area.

He used to be a cop. Then, one night, he stopped at Jitters, a local coffee shop for coffee, walking in on a robbery in progress. The two would-be robbers opened fire; one bullet had lodged in his neck. But he had already drawn his own revolver and put a .357 slug into each robber's skull. They were both dead, he would be paralyzed from the chest down for the rest of his life, and the two employees of Jitters were still alive and unharmed.

He had lay in his hospital bed for weeks, overwhelmed with self-pity. Then he had lain in a bed at Ann's sister's house; their own house had burned down a month earlier, still overwhelmed with self-pity.

Jacy Kay, his sister in law had shared the news with them; she was once again pregnant. Eric had, of course, said congratulations, but had thought nothing of it. Until Ann lay next to him and sobbed that she wanted another baby.

"Well, Ann, I'll see what I can do," he snarled, self-pity oozing from every pore.

"Fuck you, won't even try?" Ann snarled in response.

She sat up in the bed and glared at him.

"I get it, I understand, you were shot," she screamed "But you're not the only one suffering, you ass hole! I'm suffering too! And so are Robbie and Sammy, remember them? Your sons? They're both walking around on egg shells, so God damned afraid if they do anything it'll hurt you."

She crawled out of the bed.

"Evie's too young to understand, but she's suffering too, Daddy and Jacy? They're suffering too. We're all suffering Eric, okay? We're all suffering here," Ann screamed and stormed out of the bedroom.

A few hours later, breath reeking of beer and marijuana, Ann crawled back into bed and hugged him.

"Baby, I am sorry," she sniffed. "It's just, God damn it, I miss my husband. I miss my man."

"I miss him too," Eric snapped.

"No, Eric, no you don't," Ann said.

She touched his head with a finger.

"He's somewhere in there," she said. "And if you really missed him, you'd go get him for me."

A few days later, Kenneth Kay, his father in law came to him, to help Eric put on his clothes for their twice weekly trip to the physical therapist Eric's insurance was paying for.

"Ann uh, Ann came and talked with us last night," Kenneth said, blushing hotly.

"Yeah?" Eric said, letting Kenneth do all of the work.

"She uh, she's saying she wants a baby," Kenneth said, grunting as he lifted Eric into the wheelchair.

"Yeah, told me that shit too," Eric spat as Kenneth pushed the wheelchair down the hall. "Told her..."

"Wants me to get her pregnant since you won't," Kenneth blurted out.

The two men were silent as Kenneth pushed Eric to the car, then lifted him and put him in the front seat of the sedan.

Joanne, Eric's physical therapist listened as Eric talked with her about his wife's desires.

"Well, Officer Greene, I'd say it's pretty damned near impossible," she said.

"See? I told..." Eric said.

"Since I can't even get you to push your own damned chair," Joanne snapped. "Really? Kenneth's got to pick you up? Put your fat ass into your chair, and push you up the ramp to get in here? And you think you're going to be able to get and maintain an erection? There ain't enough Viagra in the world, buddy."

She finished her therapy, and then pointed to his chair.

"It's right there, the wheels are locked, get in," she ordered.

Eric struggled and nearly fell off the table in his attempt. Joanne restrained him, but otherwise did not help him.

It took him almost ten minutes, but he did manage.

Then Joanne made Eric wheel himself to the waiting room, where Kenneth was flipping through an old Newsweek magazine.

"You know, there's all kinds of good magazines out there that aren't so blatantly left-wing," Kenneth commented.

"No, Mr. Kay, I'm not getting Parasols magazine," Joanne smiled.

"How about Reader's Digest then?" Kenneth asked.

Kenneth pushed Eric to the car, and was surprised when Eric assisted him in putting him into the front seat.

It was hard, often disappointing work, but Eric did slowly make progress.

"Go ahead," Eric said to Kenneth one morning as Kenneth drove them to Joanne's office.

"Go ahead what?" Kenneth asked as he pulled into the parking lot.

"Go ahead, Ann's really wanting a baby," Eric said.

"You sure? I mean, shit, you're making real good progress here," Kenneth asked.

"Her happiness is... Yeah, Kenneth, go ahead," Eric sighed.

The first night, Eric was sure they'd never conceive; Ann was a ball of nerves. Kenneth too was extremely nervous and could barely eat. After dinner, Eric sat at the table and helped Robbie and Sammy with their schoolwork while Ann and Kenneth disappeared. His sister in law Jacy cleaned up the kitchen, wiping the counter over and over.

After Robbie and Sammy took their baths, got into their pajamas, said their prayers and went to bed, Eric wheeled himself down the hall to the bedroom he and his wife shared.

Ann was sitting up in bed, wearing a fishnet body stocking she'd bought a few months before he'd been shot.

"Hey, Big Boy," she husked, spreading her legs and showing him that the body stocking was crotchless.

"Hi Little Girl," he smiled and pulled himself into the bed.

"Thought you might want to maybe suck on my titties," she enthused, easing the top of the fish net stocking down, exposing her generous breasts.

"You wear that for him?" Eric asked.

He knew the moment he said it, that had been the wrong thing to say.

"I bought this for my husband," Ann hissed angrily, peeling the garment down and off. "I would never wear such a slutty outfit for anyone but my husband."

She pulled on her tee shirt, got out a pair of panties and got back into bed.

"I'm sorry," Eric said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't you even touch me," she snarled. "'Did I wear...' Right now? Right now I could kill you, you hear?"

They had plotted Ann's most fertile time and Ann and Kenneth disappeared after dinner each night for that week. After the first night's fiasco, moments after Kenneth and Ann had finished, Ann dressed into her clothing again and came back into the kitchen to help Jacy clean up, help Eric with Robbie and Sammy, with Evie.

Ann's period came, right on schedule and she and Kenneth waited until her most fertile time was again upon them.

And Eric looked into returning to school. He enrolled in the University of Louisiana at DeGarde's law school and began studying in earnest.

"Thank you, Baby," Ann said one night, kissing him lovingly. "I'm glad you're back. We missed you."

Eric Vincent Greene Jr. was born, with Eric in the delivery room, assisting his wife and his son.

Right now, as he sat in the small cinderblock room, waiting on his newest client, Eric smiled tightly. Jacy and Kenneth had made the announcement, somewhat hesitantly, that they were again expecting. Ann's beautiful blue eyes had immediately glassed over at the announcement. Eric was sure, at any moment, his wife would again make her push for another baby.

"Yo, MISTER Greene," Sergeant Elise Richards called out, really putting emphasis on 'Mister'.

"Yo, Sergeant Richards," Eric smiled as Elise brought his client into the room.

"This is Mrs. Romero," Elise said, introducing him to Betty Romero, a beautiful brunette.

The orange jumpsuit did little to hide the young woman's unbelievable chest. When she bent to sit, her well-rounded backside was apparent.

Her most striking feature, though, were her large blue eyes, and right now, those eyes were large with fright.

"Hi, I'm Eric Greene; I'm your attorney," Eric said and the girl looked at him and tried to smile but couldn't manage.

They did not shake hands; Betty's right hand was still bandaged.

"So, I guess, the first question is, did you do it?" Eric asked as the door closed behind Elise.

"Do what?" Betty whispered.

"Kill your husband, uh, Butch Romero?" Eric asked.

"Yeah," she admitted, looking at her hands in her lap.

Eric sat and waited. She looked up at him.

"But I had a real good reason," she said.

"And that is..." Eric prompted after a long moment of silence.

"He was trying to kill my boyfriend," Betty said and Eric sighed.

A wife protecting her boyfriend against a jealous husband would not get much sympathy from a jury.

"So, let's start at the beginning," Eric said.

Chapter 2

Betty Smith, not Elisabeth Smith was born in Flatstaffs, Arkansas, to Terri Smith. In school, Terrie had made friends with a fellow student named Betty and said if she ever had a girl, she'd name her Betty. Terrie didn't know that Betty was short for Elisabeth; she just knew her friend's name was Betty. She also didn't know most babies had middle names; she didn't have one.

Neighbors called the police; the baby's screaming and crying was constant. The police found Betty in her crib, severely malnourished. Her filthy diaper actually had to be cut away from her as it was a few days old.

Terrie returned with a box of disposable diapers and some baby food in jars.

"Ma'am, you can't feed that to an infant," one of the police officers told the eighteen year old girl.

"Uh huh, say right here it baby food," Terrie argued. "I can read, mother fucker."

"And where were you anyway?" the other officer asked.

"Out fucking," Terrie said. "Store don't give you this shit for free, you know."

So, just like her mother, Betty started out life bouncing from foster homes to whatever filthy apartment or trailer her mother happened to be living in.

When Betty was nine, her mother married Wesley Wormstead and became step mother to Wesley's three boys. Betty left the Davidson foster home to live in the nice brick house, in the nice neighborhood and started going to Good Hope Academy.

Then, at age eleven, Betty started to develop. Terrie tried to ignore it, but knew she couldn't ignore it any longer when her husband reached over, grabbed a meaty handful of Terrie's breast and gripped painfully.

"Fuck, her titties getting almost big as yours," Wesley guffawed.

"Quit," Terrie complained and pushed his hand away.

"Bet she won't tell me quit," Wesley said.

Eldin, Wesley's nineteen year old boy, and Derek, Wesley's eighteen year old boy also commented about Betty's development so Terrie called her Aunt Agnes.

Aunt Agnes had been Terrie's mother's sister. The woman lived in a large mansion in Flatstaffs and was rumored to have quite a bit of money. Because she smoked, and drank liquor, the bulk of the Smith clan had shunned Aunt Agnes until she bought herself a winning lottery scratch off ticket. Soon as they heard about that, everyone wanted to welcome Agnes back to the Smith family with open arms. It was Agnes' turn to shun the Smith clan.

"I ain't asking for me; I'm asking for my girl," Terrie said into the telephone.

So Betty again found herself living in a strange environment. But Aunt Agnes greeted the girl with open arms and a loving smile.

At age eleven, Betty learned how to play, how to laugh, how to sing. Despite being a smoker and a drinker, Aunt Agnes read her Bible nightly, and so Betty also learned how to pray.

At the Wormstead household, Wesley, Derek, and Eldin were upset with Terrie for sending Betty away.

"Fucking bitch," Wesley said and slapped Terrie across her face.

"Guess you just going have to put out for all us," Eldin declared and gave Terrie's threadbare jeans a good hard yank.

"Wesley! Stop them!" Terrie screamed as Derek ripped her blouse and bra off.

"What? What for? You the stupid cunt sent the little bitch away," Wesley declared, unzipping his jeans.

The next seven years of her life were beautiful for Betty Smith. She was in a good, loving, Christian home.

The next seven years for Terrie were a beautiful hell. There was rarely a time when she didn't have a cock in her pussy, her mouth, or her ass. She hated it at first, fought it at first, and then grew to love every minute of being a fuck toy for the Wormstead men.

When Percy, Wesley's youngest turned eighteen, Terrie was the boy's birthday present. Just like his father and his brothers, Percy had a constant erection. She couldn't even use the toilet in peace; Percy simply used her mouth while she sat on the commode.

The next morning, Terrie found out how Wesley, Eldin, and Derek had managed to go seven hours without her holes; they'd simply held Derek down and used him.

Then Aunt Agnes died. She'd been tending to her garden, spotted a wasp nest, and turned her garden hose onto the offending clump of dirt.

And the Smith family found out that Aunt Agnes wasn't rich; she'd been living paycheck to paycheck, just like most people in the area. Her house was seized for back taxes, and Betty had to return to the Wormstead house.

"God damn, her fucking titties are fucking huge!" Eldin crowed when they saw Betty getting out of Terrie's car.

Derek tried to look but Wesley had a firm grip on Derek's head as he fucked Derek's mouth.

Within a week of her eighteen year old daughter moving back home, Terrie hated her daughter.

She'd actually had to remind Wesley that she was his wife and was entitled to a little cock every now and then. For that, she got a slap across the face, but Derek did give her some cock.

After a few months of this, Terrie devised a plan. She fixed a beautiful Thanksgiving style dinner, turkey, stuffing, yams, giblet gravy and string beans. She also pressed Betty into helping her.

"Don't eat the gravy," she advised.

The two women did not eat the gravy and within moments of gorging themselves on the meal, all four Wormstead men had shit themselves and were doubled over in gastric agony.

Terrie went through their wallets, their piggy banks and their secret stashes of money.

"Here, Baby, it's all I got," she said, also handing her car keys to her daughter. "Go on; hurry before they figure out what's happening."

Betty didn't know where to go but she did know she did not need to stay in Flatstaffs, Arkansas. She drove south on Highway 467 until she reached Stepping Stone, Louisiana. She pulled into a diner that promised they had the best chili in Stepping Stone.

Betty had to agree; the chili was just fantastic and the waitress even commented that very few people ever ordered a second bowl.

"Are you kidding? This is great!" Betty enthused. "My Aunt Agnes cooked just like this."

Again, not knowing where to go, but knowing she didn't want Wesley, Eldin, Percy, or Derek to find her, she figured she'd better get off of Highway 467. Betty got onto Highway 52 and drove west.

In Bender, Louisiana, Betty saw a coffee shop; Aunt Agnes had gotten her hooked on coffee, so Betty pulled in.

Her 34 F chest entered the coffee shop a few seconds before she did and the lone customer in the shop certainly took notice.

Betty wrinkled her face at the menu and finally blurted out to the one server that was busily texting on her phone, "Ain't y'all got just coffee?"

"Express Blend? Superior Blend? Excelsior Blend?" the girl intoned.

"Morgan, just give the poor girl the Superior Blend," the customer said. "Girl don't need to know y'all don't have a clue what real coffee is."

"The Express is a cross between Expresso and regular," the man explained as Morgan poured a steaming mug of the Superior Blend. "The Superior is their regular coffee and the Excelsior is this crap only good for painting a house with."

"Shut up, Butch; I like it," Morgan declared.

"Right, which is why you drew a blank when this young woman, asked you a simple question," Butch said. "Hi, Butch Romero."

"Betty Smith," Betty said.

"Uh, not from around here, are you?" Butch smiled, guiding Betty to his booth.

Betty found out that Butch was a long distance trucker and thought it must be such a glamorous job.

What Butch failed to mention was he as currently on suspension because of a methamphetamine habit. Over a few cups of coffee, they got to know each other, as much as they could with Butch lying at every opportunity.

Morgan finally chased them out and Betty followed Butch to his modest home.

When the knock came on her bedroom door, Betty didn't fight it; it was better to be fucked a few times by one man than several times by four men.

Because of his methamphetamine addiction, though, Butch couldn't get an erection. Betty knew better than to laugh; Derek often had trouble getting it up. The one time Betty had laughed at Derek, he had hit her so hard in her belly, she'd both shit and vomited.

"Well, Sugar, that's all right; kind of tired from driving all day, you know?" Betty soothed and kissed Butch softly.

Later on, he did manage a shaky erection and Betty acted like it was the greatest fuck of her life, even though it lasted less than one minute.

The next time Butch failed to get an erection, he broke down in tears and Betty hugged and comforted him and assured him, he was still her savior, her knight in shining armor.

Butch then concocted the perfect plan. Betty was beautiful, sexy, didn't seem to know just how desirable she truly was with her innocent angel's face and nasty whore's body.

"You want me to fuck some of your friends?" Betty asked, and then shrugged. "Well, Sugar, if that's what it takes make you happy, okay."

Paul Robichaux came out and installed a two way mirror between Betty's bedroom and Butch's bedroom. He declined Butch's offer to fuck Betty in lieu of payment for his services.

"Happily married," he smiled, showing them his broad wedding band.

"Aw," Betty sighed, ever the romantic.

Butch's first 'friend' let the cat out the bag, though when he walked into Betty's room.

"God damn, them fucking tits are unbelievable!" he hooted. "Fuck! Best two hundred bucks I ever spent!"

"And what you get for two hundred bucks?" Betty asked, shooting the mirror an angry glare.

"Around the world," the man said, stripping out of his clothes.

"Around the..." Betty wondered.

"Mouth, pussy and ass hole," the man explained and grabbed Betty's large chest.

Betty used her mouth on the man, then let him pound into her while drooling on her large chest.

Go slow, Sugar, you kind of big there," Betty lied as she got onto her knees and shoulders to let him pound her ass.

Because he'd already come in her mouth and pussy, the customer was able to last a few moments and Betty almost giggled as she let out a few fake moans of pain.