Chapter 34

Martin was right; Fernando's office was a gold mine. It took Hank and Maddie all of ten minutes to find Fernando's journal -- and reading it was an exercise in deciphering paranoia and megalomania. Fernando bragged about destroying the lives of countless people; the journal was a daily litany of him putting the screws to his customers, other strangers, and the occasional coworker suspected (usually without any basis) of harboring ill-will toward him. Fernando kept 'trophies' -- mementoes of his various victories over others whose only offense usually was coming into Fernando's orbit; the journal described these items and their significance in loving detail.

It also led them to three previous volumes locked in his big safe; Fernando, like many with his afflictions, was overconfident and his security measures were like swiss cheese. The safe opened to his birthdate as a combination and spilled a raft of treasures -- including the previous journals, three ledger books, and other documents, some of which provided incontrovertible evidence that Fernando was embezzling from his bank while framing several others -- something he'd done before at least once, per the documents.

When Toby arrived, he went through Fernando's desktop computer -- equally poorly secured -- discovering large sums of money in hidden accounts here and there and the evidence of several ongoing nefarious schemes. He set up online banking for Marta and used Fernando's override powers at the bank to make accounts in Fernando's name only joint, then moved most of the money in them to accounts newly created in a different bank -- discovering in the process that Fernando was hiding money in THAT bank, too. This led to the movement of funds to a THIRD bank -- including some of the hidden funds. Toby then set up remote control of Fernando's computer, complete with a backout-and-erase script; if Marta agreed with them about what should be done, he would want to trigger a little bobby-trap that would bring Fernando down...

The three of them sat down to peruse the journals, and the horror of what her father really was came home to Maddie. There were at least three people in prison who would be exonerated based upon the contents of Fernando's journals and the referenced collateral evidence -- and several other people had had their careers ruined by trumped-up charges based upon evidence planted by Fernando. The bank's security system had gaping holes in it bored by Fernando from the inside -- and there was blood on his hands, too, from some scheme where he blackmailed some thug to act as his enforcer in some freelance loan sharking.

They used the copier in Fernando's office to photocopy the complete current journal and the ledgers -- and took the rest home to Hank's, figuring that Fernando would be slow to look in his safe. If things went the way Toby thought they might, the FBI would end up looking for the items and Marta could produce them for them.

In the meantime, Toby safeguarded as much of the money as appeared to be legitimate in places where it could eventually be transferred to Marta. It was a sizeable amount; Fernando had never been open-handed with his family (except when slapping them around, at least) and had saved quite a nest egg. What he planned to do with it eventually was anybody's guess.

Martin and Jean examined the haul when it arrived; Jean was horrified. "Still think this guy deserves the benefit of the doubt?" Martin asked, after reading aloud a description of the subornation of a teller and his subsequent entrapment and arrest for money laundering.

"No, I guess not." Jean picked at her rubber glove -- no one wanted fingerprints to muddy the ownership of THOSE gems! "He's a monster! You three need to put this stuff in Marta's hands so she has some idea how dangerous the animal in the basement actually is!" Toby and Hank agreed; they and Maddie piled into the car and headed for Carpenter's.

In the meantime, Fred arrived; Randy had gone out after him at Beth's request. Candace briefed him on what was wanted of him -- and Fred was somewhat surprised, but willing. Marta accompanied Fred to the basement and helped set him up with a mask and a voice distorter, then led him into the curtained area. "Husband! You have a new job to do!"

Fernando turned glassy eyes on his wife and mistress.

"Pleasure this man," Marta directed. "It matters not why I want it -- just do it! In return, you may enjoy yourself to the limit that he allows -- do you understand?"

Fernando's eyes flicked from Marta to Fred. "Yes."

"You will be released for this, but do not think you will be able to leave," Marta cautioned. "By now, you should be well aware of the number of people who watch over you!" In the meantime, Fred undid Fernando's wrists from the overhead chain. "Behave yourself and you may enjoy whatever he asks of you -- but if you are foolish..." Marta waved and walked out.

Fernando would have been surprised to find out just how loose security was; Lon was upstairs, and so was Randy, but neither of them was on any kind of alert. Candace was watching the monitor in the living room, as was Beth. But Fernando had neither the will nor the strength to resist Fred -- and he had been promised pleasure, if he could find it... THAT was perhaps more seductive than anything else.

Fred just pointed; Fernando knelt before him and started sucking. Fred didn't abuse him actively; instead, he began trying to teach the heavyset Hispanic how to deep-throat. Fernando took this for the benevolence it was and tried to learn -- which pleased them both. "You can jack off if you want," Fred told him, "but try not to cum -- I want you happy later." Fernando spent ten minutes not just enduring fellatio, but trying to enjoy it before Fred grunted and cupped his head to his crotch while he flooded his mouth with semen.

Fred then had Fernando climb onto the massage table, face down -- and to Fernando's vast surprise, he started rubbing his portly body! "Had a rough couple of days, haven't you?" Fred asked.

"Yes."

"From what I hear, it won't get much better. You'd better get your fun while it's hot, because you'll be paying for it, big time!" Fred told him -- but his hands worked on Fernando's stiff muscles and sore joints. This went on for a couple of minutes before Fernando gathered together the will to ask, "Why are you doing this?"

"It's my job," Fred replied. "You didn't treat women well -- and they're done treating YOU well. You need to plan on gettin' your fun from men. I'm here to show you it's possible, I guess. You know that already, though, don't you?"

Fernando thought about it; the man was right. The fact that he was a black gave Fernando the willies on one level, but it was titillating on another -- and he'd been had by blacks before -- including THIS one, he thought. The emphasis over the last few days had been less on rape and more on making him homosexual, it seemed -- and to an extent, it was working. Fernando's mind had been more or less disassembled over the past few days -- and it was being put back together differently. Recognizing it didn't stop it; Fernando was reacting to stimuli in the only way he could...

"Roll over," Fred directed gruffly, and bellied up to the table beside Fernando's head. "Give me a suck; let's see if I'm up for Round Two." Fernando scooted closer to the edge of the table and sucked in the thick dark meat without complaint, while Fred played with his chest and his nipples and reached over to tug on his small cock. "You didn't get no gifts in the dick department, did you?" Fred muttered. "Oh, sorry..." Fred mentally compared Fernando's man-boobs with Tabitha's breasts -- they were very similar. Fernando's nipples were smaller -- but not THAT much smaller; his areoles were smaller, too, but they crinkled just like a woman's when his nipples stiffened... "Nice tits."

These comments hurt in ways abuse from a woman probably never would -- but they brought a certain masochistic pleasure with the pain. Fernando had long since gotten the hint -- he wasn't much of a man. He'd always known it -- and always tried to pretend it wasn't true. What he hadn't been aware of was the fact that there was another, more nebulous status that he apparently had some qualifications for... 'What is it called?' he wondered vaguely, 'Bitch?' Was he really more woman than man?

The cock in his mouth said so -- it was stiffening and lengthening. It wasn't twice Fernando's length, but it was close -- and the girth was almost double, too. It seemed to belong there, leaking pre-cum onto his tongue...

Fred gathered up the lube bottle he'd brought with him and poured it on his hand -- and applied it to Fernando's cock before chasing the drippings past his balls to the crack of his ass. "Lift your legs so I can get at it," he directed. Fernando knew what 'it' was and raised his knees so Fred's fingers could find and lubricate his anus. He was getting to be an old hand at this, he thought. Soon, he probably wouldn't need lubricant...

Off and on, Fred jacked him with a gooey hand; it was extremely pleasurable. In between, his fingers probed Fernando's anus -- and Fernando accepted it After a bit, Fred said, "Scoot down -- let's fuck," and Fernando was surprised at the choice of words and his reaction to them. When Fred applied the mushroom head of his phallus to Fernando's anus, Fernando thought, 'I'm a Pussy Boy -- and that's my pussy! Now we're going to fuck! '

He hadn't really thought of previous encounters as 'fucking'; they'd been something else, something intrusive at least and horrible and degrading and painful at worst. This was 'fucking'; he approached it that way, mentally -- and it made a difference! He relaxed and felt the cock go in and then retreat, advance and retreat, first incrementally deeper, then incrementally faster -- and pain wasn't an issue, even after the lubrication began to recede...

"Go ahead and play with yourself," Fred panted. "I might help, if I can free up a hand..." So Fernando did, marveling that the man didn't seem to mind, and the results got better and better...

Fred could see the difference; Fernando had that surprised intent look that he'd seen on a few women, but never on a man... After a bit, Fernando croaked, "Lube!" and Fred hesitated, because he didn't want things to get too slick in the fat guy's ass -- but Fernando held out his hands, so Fred dribbled lube over them and Fernando started seriously mauling his own cock and balls, grunting and gasping... Fred suddenly realized that not only had he fulfilled the women's mission, he'd fulfilled a personal goal...

Fernando had turned the corner -- he was fucking and being fucked and playing with himself and enjoying it! Maybe he wasn't a man any more, but he could still enjoy sex... The lubricant made masturbation different than he ever remembered it being, and the cock sliding in and out of him did things he couldn't describe but certainly felt... "Play with my nipples!" he gasped, and when the anonymous black man started fingering them, flashes went from them to his manhood to his ass... "Agh! Agh! Agh!" Fernando grunted, and semen pulsed from his manhood, wetting his chest and belly while he clenched and wriggled and moaned out his climax.

Fred was taken totally by surprise; he'd had no idea that the fat little fuck was even close! Fred wasn't, but the little bastard's ass clamping on him moved him further up the road toward it. After he got his nut Fred expected Fernando to stop playing with himself -- but he didn't. He kept moving his ass, too and rocking and puffing; it seemed like he'd gotten into things big time! When Fernando wanted more lube, Fred let him have it -- and Fernando worked his little pecker and hunched up and panted and groaned and begged Fred to keep pounding him!

But he was getting loose, and that was slowing Fred down, so Fred pushed Fernando's legs up onto his shoulders and told him, "I'm gonna swat your ass so you tighten up. It won't hurt -- just get you goin'..."

Fernando knew a moment of concern, but then Fred slapped him on the ass -- and clearly, it wasn't a spanking. Just as clearly, Fernando flinched and tightened up -- and it felt good! In fact, the new position added something or other... "Do it more!" Fernando panted, and resumed masturbating feverishly. Fred would swat him and he would clamp down and Fred's cock would go somewhere a little different, driving this terrible intensity...

Fernando got this look on his face -- and Fred recognized it! The little bastard was gonna cum again! Fred started rhythmically popping Fernando on the ass, keeping him tight and hot until Fred's nuts began to boil and he howled through clenched teeth as his cock swelled and spat in the little fat fucker's ass... and he watched the little bastard's cock jump -- not shooting anything, really, but pulsing, while his asshole clamped down on Fred's cock -- shit! He'd gotten off again, after all!

Fernando slumped back, exhausted and grateful. He hadn't had a sexual experience like that in ages! Maybe all this Hell on Earth was worth it...

In a minute, Fred pulled out and backed up, then reached out for Fernando's hand. "Let's get you a shower." Fernando got up and came with him, knowing the shower wasn't going to be the frigid affair of earlier in the day -- and it wasn't. Fernando felt almost human after ten minutes in the hot spray -- but followed the man meekly back to the curtained area and did not protest when he bound him as he had been before. The episode was over -- and it should have been horrible -- but Fernando felt better, somehow...

... Until Marta came in and stood over him, smiling crookedly and said, "See?" It was then that Fernando realized that she hadn't done anything to him -- she'd just given him the tools and let him debase and degrade himself... She stood there while the realization flooded him, then turned and walked off without another word.

Fred went back for his own shower -- and Candace came for him there. "You did a good job."

"Thanks."

"You deserve more."

"I'm good." In the first place, Fred had unloaded two nuts -- and in the second, he didn't want to dilute the episode by adding to it.

Candace understood. "I told you that if you showed any manners, I might fuck you some time -- consider this a rain check."

"Thanks."

"I'll get Randy." Candace swayed out. Fred decided she had a pretty nice ass.

Clint spent the time from when he got home from Carter's to midafternoon cleaning house. Part of it was preparation, part rationalization -- and part procrastination. The rationalization piece had to do with making a good impression if he brought Brenda home -- and the procrastination was delaying calling her until this or that bit of cleaning was done.

The Bitch wasn't a factor; she slept in until noon, showered, and headed off to the beauty parlor after just a couple of snide comments. She would come home later in the day, no doubt -- probably only long enough to change clothes and primp before hitting the clubs.

Finally, there were no more excuses; the toilet was clean and the laundry at least out of sight... "Brenda?"

"Clint?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Want to go out or something?"

"Sure. Where are you guys going?"

"I mean just us," Clint said carefully.

"Oh! Cool! Where?"

"Well, I dunno," Clint mumbled. "Any ideas?"

"How about Bounder's? Do you dance?" Bounder's was an under 21 dance club -- or a room set aside in a larger club called Jerry's, actually.

"I, uh, don't dance," Clint muttered, "but nobody will notice at Bounder's, anyway..."

Brenda laughed. Bounder's was usually so jammed on a Saturday night that mere movement on the dance floor was a feat. "Well, we could practice some, first, somewhere -- or, like you said, just fake it."

"Yeah, okay. Dinner first? I can probably do Wimpy's."

"Okay, when?"

"Six?"

"Cool. I'll be ready!"

"Teela?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

"Sonya Ho."

"Hey, Sonya."

"Mom was at your house last night, right?"

"Yeah. She and Poppa got to tearing it up..." Teela giggled.

"Okay..." Sonya seemed confused. "She called and suggested I call you."

"That's cool. I was gonna call you. How did she sound?"

"Fine..." From her voice, Teela gathered that Sonya wasn't clear about why. "So, she and your dad..."

"She spent the night," Teela amplified.

"When Mom called home yesterday, it was to bitch about having to deliver take-out Vietnamese."

"Yeah, that was Act One."

"So what happened?"

"Why don't you come over? It's a long story, actually. We can hang out -- bring some overnight stuff and we'll eat ice cream and talk about guys or something," Teela suggested.

Sonya stared at her phone like it was connected to someone else. She and Teela barely knew one another. "I'll have to talk to Mom..."

"It'll be cool. She knows up-front -- it's why she asked you to call," Teela assured her.

"Okay..."

"We'll come get you. Be ready in a half-hour." Teela hung up, leaving Sonya somewhat dazed.

When Marta came back upstairs after taunting Fernando over his tryst with Fred, she was pretty certain of her ability to control her errant husband. Then Toby, Hank and Maddie came in and delivered Fernando's journal and some other evidence -- and that confidence suffered serious erosion. The journal was absolutely scary! "He's sick!" Marta declared.

"That's no surprise," Candace retorted. "How sick is another matter!" Toby went down a list of their finds -- an amazing list, all around. "I've protected you as best I could," he told her. "You have access to the household assets and Fernando's access is blocked. I set you up with accounts in banks he has no access to, and funded them from Fernando's war chest. And I put your name on his investment accounts -- almost three-quarters of a million dollars worth!"

"How long will it take him to discover this?" Marta asked. "And what will he do when he finds out?"

"I think we should defuse the situation by presenting him with some of it," Toby replied. "The simpler, more obvious stuff, like you taking over the visible accounts. If we're lucky, he'll assume for a day or two at least that we didn't find anything else. The down-side is that if he thinks he still has secrets, he's more likely to backslide."

"How bad is this?" Marta asked.

"It's good and bad," Beth mused, poring over the journal. "It's good that we know. It's going to take him a couple of days to get ANY confidence back. But you won't be safe for any length of time -- he's too far out there..."

Toby nodded. "Hank's dad thinks the smartest thing would be for things to crash for Fernando inside a week. Not Monday, if possible -- things should appear to be getting back to normal -- but later in the week, something needs to come apart -- something that brings the police." He paused for a moment. "I set a booby-trap on his computer..." He explained the whole thing to Marta, ending with, "We don't have to trigger it -- I can clean things up and back out if you want to try to deal with this -- but it's a lot more dangerous than we realized. Fernando is seriously paranoid, and he's living in a fantasy world. We probably changed that -- or part of it -- but without keeping him in the basement, you won't control him. If he has to go out in the world and pretend everything is cool, he'll drift back and start planning something -- something ugly."

"And this thing you did...?"

"That's the beauty of it," Toby told her. "He'll trigger it himself -- which would be a red flag that he's slipping out from under, anyway. After that, maybe forty-eight hours later, the bank will have called in the police..."

Marta leveled a troubled gaze on her daughter. "And how will this affect us?"

"Well, the abuse will surface," Toby opined. "Financially, you can live off the income from the investments -- probably more comfortably than you are. He'll be in jail -- or a psych ward, anyway..."

"What about all this?" Marta's wave was obviously meant to take in Fernando's current conditions.

"We haven't injured him much -- not as much as you guys. He has no evidence, and the story will sound pretty wild..." Beth replied. "Given the contents of the journal, who will believe him?"

"I cannot divorce him," Marta insisted.

"Well, you won't have to," Candace pointed out. "Although what benefit remaining married to him has attached to it is unclear..." Marta just shrugged, and Beth let it go. "What do you want to do?"

"Leave this booby-trap in place," Marta sighed. "You can watch it? You will know when he triggers it?"

"Yes," Toby nodded. "His computer will page me."

"All right." Marta rubbed at her face, wincing when she touched her nose. "Should we continue with what we're doing?"

"Yes," Beth opined. "The more we indoctrinate him, the longer he'll last before the blowup -- and the further we can all distance ourselves from it."

"Okay. What's next?"

"Fred was pretty good to him. We need to ride him again -- abuse from women. And we should plan for you to cuckold him again this evening. For tomorrow, we'll need to rehearse telling him how it is going to be -- and for that, we probably have decisions to make," Beth told her.

"It won't REALLY be the way we're going to present it, now, is it?" Marta asked.

"No. But he has to think we think it will be. He'll be the one changing the situation from the picture we'll paint -- not us."

"So, for later?"

"I'll speak to Lon. We should try to get Terence," Candace added, "but he might not want to do anything."

"How long will this go on?" Marta asked.

"Until tomorrow morning, I should imagine," Beth replied. "In the afternoon, we have to get you all ready to return home. You'll sleep in your own beds tomorrow night -- but I would recommend that we put a couple of the boys in the house with you and that you keep Fernando at arm's distance."

"Yes, that's best," Marta nodded.

"Okay, then." Beth turned to Toby. "Louise had this idea..." She explained the video idea.

"Very cool!" Toby grinned. "I'll set it up after you all do whatever it is you have planned next!"

Fernando had an hour or an hour and a half to contemplate all aspects of his interlude with the black man before the harpies suddenly descended upon him again. Marta wasn't present -- just the two white women, who made him lick them to orgasm, abusing his manhood with a flyswatter when they weren't satisfied with his efforts. The narrow one insisted that he drink her urine again -- and made it clear that he would sleep in any spillage -- so he took on that odious task, too, thanking God or whoever was watching over him that she didn't have to defecate... He thought it was over, but the heavyset one worked up some urine, too; by the time it was over, Fernando had to beg plaintively for a urinal bottle so he himself could relieve his bladder. It was somewhat of a surprise to him that they didn't turn THAT around on him, but they didn't...

Later, Marta brought down some muscled young blond boy for a repeat of the incident with the black boy. The blond kid seemed to get more pleasure out of taunting Fernando and making him suck him, before and after he copulated with Fernando's wife than the black boy had; from the perspective of Marta's enjoyment of her adultery, things seemed about the same. Fernando did whatever he was bid, to include masturbating while fellating the boy and sucking his seed from his wife's womanhood; at some point after the interlude with the black man, it became worthwhile to eke out whatever pleasure he was allowed from these incidents. He didn't orgasm, but masturbation seemed to make the whole thing more bearable.

Then the TV arrived. The slight boy brought it in and hooked it up and left, without saying a word. In a moment or two, the screen displayed Fernando and the two muscle-bound boys from the day before...

It was the first scene of many; apparently, they had every incident on video, although Fernando couldn't puzzle out exactly where the camera was. The TV droned on and on, displaying scene after scene, until apparently all of the highlights had been screened -- then it looped back and began again. The only times it wasn't running were two episodes several hours apart when the skinny black woman and the young Hispanic male came in to heckle him and get cunnilingus or fellatio -- or, in one case, anal sex -- from Fernando. Fernando was allowed to masturbate during these interludes -- and he did so, but without result -- largely because he'd already masturbated to the content of the videos until he was raw. It didn't start out that way; Fernando started out disgusted; but fascination set in and they had deliberately allowed him to reach his privates, beginning with the arrival of the harpies, by locking his wrist and ankle restraints with small locks and the spreader bar between his legs to the ring in the floor with a larger one. They even left him lube; he managed a masturbatory orgy and fell into an exhausted sleep between visits from the black woman and her Hispanic partner. Probably the most embarrassing thing about the whole thing was the inability to satisfy the urge to insert something anally while he masturbated...

Teela and Rick picked up Sonya from out in front of her apartment building and drove back to Teela's in relative silence; neither Teela nor Rick wanted to discuss what was going on in the car, and Sonya was totally at a loss to explain why she was even there. Once they'd arrived, Teela dragged Sonya in to meet a rangy, balding man wearing eyeglasses who was relaxing in a recliner, watching sports on TV. "This is Poppa," Teela announced, as if it was an item of some import. Sonya greeted the man civilly, but still had no idea why it was at all important.

Frank looked Sonya over critically; the girl's skin was an odd color, but she'd definitely gotten all of the looks in the Ho family -- not that it mattered. Teela seemed to think this was a momentous occasion, for reasons unclear to Frank; he said hi and went back to TV, which seemed to set just fine with the Ho girl. Teela looked a little grumpy, but took the girl up to her room; Rick followed, rolling his eyes and shrugging. Frank was getting used to Rick -- they shared a total inability to understand the female mindset, which made them allies when it came to dealing with Teela.

Upstairs, Teela waved Sonya to her bed, and as the Oriental girl settled there, she asked, "So, what did you think of Poppa?"

Sonya shrugged. "He's okay, I guess."

"He's gonna be your stepdad," Teela announced fatuously.

"I'm sorry, what?" Sonya eyed Teela as if she had two heads.

"I figure we have maybe a month before your momma moves in with Poppa," Teela declared. "It could be less."

"How do you figure?" Sonya asked, confused. "Based on whatever happened here last night?"

Teela nodded. "It was weird, but they're both kind of odd, anyway, aren't they? Poppa treated her like furniture -- except when they were having sex. But he's hooked -- I can tell -- and she is, too, from the way she was acting when she left this morning."

Sonya shrugged. "If you say so." She flicked a glance at Rick, who shrugged.

"I DO -- but I'll let you draw your own conclusions. She's coming back tonight -- that's one reason we came and got you," Teela retorted.

"Ookaay..." Sonya absorbed this. "So she's bringing take-out again?"

"Well, she doesn't have to -- but Poppa told her if she didn't, then she had to cook."

"Okay," Sonya frowned. "Your dad is a club member, right? So Mom HAS to do whatever he says, right?" She glanced at Rick, who was regarding Teela with a slight smirk.

"Well, yeah," Teela admitted, "but at this point, I don't think either of them is paying any attention to that."

Sonya glanced at Rick, who shrugged. "Don't look at me! I think she's smoking dope!"

Teela shrugged, mildly irritated. "Okay, fine. See what you think later tonight."

"Well, okay, but even if you're right, what's the impact on me?" Sonya asked. "If Mom collects a boyfriend, it will certainly be a change, but she doesn't trust men -- she's not moving in with anybody."

"Wait and see -- you might change your mind!" Teela insisted.

"Okay, what does this all have to do with me?" Sonya asked.

"I think we ought to get used to hanging out together. You don't mind, do you?"

"Well, no, I guess not..."

"Great! Want to watch some TV?"

"I should leave," Rick announced abruptly. "You guys need time for girl talk."

Teela looked grumpy. "Well, all right."

Rick crossed to Teela and kissed her and prepared to leave -- but she held onto him for a moment -- and they clearly argued in heated whispers before he broke away and left. Teela started to follow him, but let him go.

Sonya felt uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to start a fight..."

"No, it's my fault -- I'm asking a lot of him. Rick is very shy about some things -- and he's probably right. We need alone time." She settled on the bed beside Sonya. "So, just how bossy WAS Alyssa? Did you ever actually fuck Dirk?"