Azalea

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age. There is no underage sex depicted in this, or any of my stories.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

*.*

"Jerry, no!" Michelle begged.

"Quiet, woman!" Jerry Stevens snarled, shoving the petite woman away.

Michelle staggered from the force of the shove. She fell against the kitchen table and knocked one of the chairs to the floor.

"Ooh, big man, pushing a woman around," Billy Stevens sneered. "Hey, Dad, why don't you try pushing me, huh? Oh. That's right. You're too much of a pussy push a real man."

"Shit. You really think you a real man? Huh?" Jerry let out a mocking laugh.

"More of a man than you, cock sucker," Billy taunted. "Least I don't need slap little girls make me feel all big and shit. But I guess if I had a tiny penis..."

The taunt had the desired effect. Jerry lashed out, swinging his fist at the nineteen year old boy's smug face.

Billy easily slapped his father's fist aside and delivered a jab straight at his father's snarling mouth. The punch was a solid one, jarring several teeth loose.

Jerry's lips naturally curled around his teeth and Billy gave the man's mouth a left hook that cut into the flesh. Jerry staggered back, spitting out blood and teeth.

Billy's next punch smashed the man's nose and a geyser of blood erupted. Having no fight left, Jerry sat heavily on the kitchen floor.

"Leave! Get thee gone from my house, you spawn of Satan, you son of Jezebel!" Jerry ordered.

"Daddy! No," Sarah cried out, hands reaching out to Billy.

"I will not have such an evil, violent thug in my home," Jerry said, the blood dripping freely from his broken nose.

"Jerry, please, no," Michelle also sobbed.

With tears in his eyes, Billy hugged his sixteen year old sister. He kissed her softly, told her he loved her, told her to take care.

Then he hugged his step-mother Michelle. She clung to him, sobbing, which brought even more tears to Billy's eyes.

"You. You stand, so pompous, so sanctimonious and proud. Sunday after Sunday," Billy sneered at the man that sat on the floor. "Telling those people how they should live their lives. You make me sick."

"Go. Go to your real father, the Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Underground," Jerry ordered.

With his bloodied face, missing and loose teeth, though, Jerry's edict came out garbled, thick and slurred.

"And you're not taking my car," Jerry thought to add as Billy turned to leave.

"Oh, Bull shit, you fucking self-righteous sack of shit," Billy said, grabbing his father by a handful of greased hair. "Oh Bull fucking shit. That is my car. MY car. It was my reward for getting straight A's through high school. I am not taking your car, it is my car."

Slamming the man's head back against the linoleum floor brought on more blood. It also brought on more screams from Sarah and Michelle. Billy looked down at the groaning man.

"Good bye," Billy said. "Good bye, and fuck you."

Billy drove Down Memorial Highway. He blazed a path from Oldenburg, Arkansas to the Louisiana state line. In Arkansas, the Reverend Jerry Stevens was somewhat of a big deal. He had many friends and many people that owed him favors in Lowen County. But his fingers did not reach into Northern Louisiana.

The animosity had been brewing, had been building for as long as Billy could remember. It seemed to him that he could not remember a time when his father had not been upset with him, had not been disappointed with him. Ever since his mother left with her boyfriend, Reverend Jerry Stevens had been blaming Billy for his own unhappiness.

Sarah. Sarah had idolized her big brother. Billy did not know if he would like being a big brother, especially to a girl; girls were stupid. But he looked into her big blue eyes, saw her dimpled smile and heard her coo happily and knew his destiny in life was to be a big brother.

Michelle had been a blessing, an oasis for Billy. The petite brunette had come in, all beautiful smiles and soft smells and soft hugs and sweet kisses and loving words. She had made Billy feel wanted, made him feel loved.

For a while, for a little while, Michelle and Sarah had calmed, had tempered Reverend Jerry Stevens's anger, his unhappiness. For a while, Billy was not under constant scrutiny. Then came the fateful day Billy brought home a less than perfect report card. Six A's and one B. Jerry had taken his broad white vinyl belt off and had blistered Billy's bare backside. Michelle begged and pleaded with Jerry to stop. But Jerry did not stop until his belt cut Billy's flesh.

Michelle sobbed and prayed as she tended to Billy's mottled flesh. Then she hugged and kissed Billy. Billy developed a tough exterior from that day forward.

But seeing his father slap Sarah, his baby sister, for the unforgiveable sin of bringing home an 83 on an Algebra test had finally let the pressure explode. This morning, with that one slap to his sweet sister's face the pressure had finally blown sky high.

Once in Paulton, Louisiana, Billy saw a First Union Bank. Billy had worked odd jobs, handy man, cutting lawns, raking leaves, even babysitting the occasional kid. Since he'd not been allowed to date any of the 'sinful harlots' that attended James Conway High School, every penny Billy had made had gone into his bank account. That money, along with birthday money and Christmas money from his mother's mother and his two uncles, his mother's brothers also went into the savings account.

Billy did not put it past his father to march into Lowen County First National Bank and demand they transfer Billy's money into his own account. He also did not put it past Sherri Pruitt to do exactly as his father demanded.

A smiling woman at First Union Bank helped Billy to open a new account with the two hundred dollars he had in his wallet. She also advised that, until he had more permanent lodgings, he open a P.O. Box there in Paulton.

Account and temporary address secured, Billy then returned to the First Union Bank branch and had his Savings account transferred from Lowen County to First Union.

(Billy beat his father by twenty hours. Sherri Pruitt was quite apologetic, but no, there was no way to get that seven thousand two hundred and eight dollars back.)

Safely in Louisiana, and with no destination in mind, Billy drove south on Highway 467. He knew he would not be returning to Arkansas. He knew he would not be returning to Myndee University, even though he was carrying a 4.0 GPA.

A diner in Stepping Stone, Louisiana promised to have the best chili in Stepping Stone. After a bowl of the miserable stuff, Billy wondered just how bad the winner of second place in that chili contest had been.

The small grocery store had several selections of antacid tablets; Billy smirked at this. Obviously, he wasn't the only one affected by 'the best chili in Stepping Stone.'

At the cash register, a gangly, pimple faced girl was arguing with the cashier. It seemed the girl wanted a particular brand of soap, which the small store did not carry.

"But it's made, right there, in Kimble. Right there, on fifty two," the girl said, even pointing in the direction of the small town she'd named.

"Then go to Kimble," the cashier said.

Having no destination in mind, Billy thought Kimble sounded as good as any other place. Chewing three of the antacid tablets, Billy wondered what cherries the manufacturer thought these tablets tasted like. Then he looked up Kimble, Louisiana on his phone.

"And fifty two's right down here," Billy mused, actually glancing up at Highway 467 and swiveling his head to the right.

Continuing west on Highway 52, Billy saw a small sign announcing that he had arrived in Kimble, Louisiana. Glancing around, he saw a building with 'A&A Soaps' painted on the cinderblock wall.

"I wonder, I bet that's the soap that girl was talking about," Billy smiled.

He shrugged his shoulders and pulled into the small parking lot. Again, with a shrug, Billy got out, stretched his legs a little, then walked into the building.

There were several noises, a cacophony of sound that assaulted him as he stepped into the building. Several mixers were whining, two machines were shaking containers with a rapid 'thump-thump-thump' and a machine was pumping cardboard pellets into a cardboard box.

There were several smells that assaulted him as he stepped in. He could not identify any of the odors, but none of them were unpleasant smells, just strong smells.

"Hi! Help you?" a very cute woman with shoulder length blonde hair chirped.

Billy smiled, imagining that this is what Sarah would look like when she was in her late twenties; bright blue eyes, blonde hair, dimpled smile. Unlike Sarah's straight hair, this woman's hair was ringlets of blonde curls. But just like Sarah, this woman was almost completely flat up top.

"Hi. I was in a grocery store in, in, in, oh shoot, Stepping Stone and this girl was asking them why did they not have A and A Soaps and I said, I'm looking for a job and I'll bet they'll hire me," Billy blurted out.

"Well, we've like got this exclusive contract with T. Dayton's so like we can't sell anywhere else 'cept on-line," Toni Delacroix smiled. "But like, I really appreciate that girl like asking about us. Said you're like looking for a job?"

"Yes ma'am," Billy agreed.

"Here, like fill this out," Toni said, tearing an application form from a pad.

"Hmm," Billy said, looking at the application form. "Uh, ma'am? Where it says address? Right now, I'm living out of a P.O. box in Paulton."

"I uh, I've got a room for rent," a chubby middle aged woman said. "Trailer right up the street; could come in together."

"Well, like, there you go," Toni smiled. "But I've got like a ton of stuff get out; UPS will be here in like any minute now."

Cheryl Goodwin gave Billy her address for the application form. She smiled and preened, thrusting her substantial chest nearly in his face as she leaned across the counter.

With his shaggy blond hair, sharp blue eyes, and muscled frame, Billy was no stranger to women's attentions. And, at Myndee University, once out of his father's sight, Billy did partake of the pleasures of the flesh.

"One fifty a week," Cheryl said, again thrusting her chest toward Billy. "But uh, I'm sure, you do a few chores around the place? We can bring that down a little?"

"Yes ma'am," Billy smiled, showing straight white teeth.

Craig Goodwin shrugged when a stranger showed up at his dinner table. But, one hundred and fifty dollars a week did sound good.

Behind Craig's back, Cheryl stretched, bent, flexed and strained as she prepared the evening meal. In her tee shirt, it was apparent that she no longer wore her bra; her breasts wobbled and bobbled as she served out the spaghetti. As they sat at the table, Billy could clearly make out Cheryl's fat nipples threatening to poke through her tee shirt.

After the slightly too sugary spaghetti, Billy yawned and said he was going to take a shower, and then hit the hay. Both Craig and Cheryl wished him a good night.

After a quick, hot shower, Billy lay down on the comfortable bed clad in only his boxer shorts.

"Knock knock," Cheryl sang out, then opened the door.

"Yes ma'am?" Billy said, sitting up.

"Oh, just wanted see if you needed anything," Cheryl said, stepping into the room.

Cheryl's pasty white legs stuck out the bottom of her tee shirt when she turned and locked the door. Billy glanced nervously toward the area of the living room and kitchen.

"Oh, don't worry about Craig," Cheryl tittered. "When he takes his hearing aid out? He can't hear a thing."

Cheryl was an enthusiastic cock sucker. She did gasp, grunt and keen when Billy ate her hairy pussy to orgasm. Her favorite position to fuck was on hands and knees, getting hammered from behind.

"Oh, God yes," she grunted. "Fuck me, uh huh, fuck me."

"Bet no young girl fuck you like that," Cheryl simpered proudly, slipping her tee shirt on over her chubby body.

Billy didn't bother correcting her. Watching his semen trickle down one of her thick thighs as she let herself out of his room, Billy did feel another erection begin.

*

Jerry's face was twisted in rage.

Blood. There was so much blood. The blood was everywhere.

*

"Rise and shine; work day starts at eight," Cheryl sang out, knocking and opening the door of Billy's room the following morning.

"I uh, but I don't, I don't even know if I got the job," Billy stammered as a nude Cheryl stood in his doorway.

"Oh, honey, you got the job," Cheryl smiled. "Toni just fired James, its James not Jimmy or Jim Boudreaux for drinking on the job. Now, come on, scrambled all right?"

"Scrambled is fine," Billy said, watching her large ass jiggling as she sauntered out of his room.

James Boudreaux had been in charge of slicing and packaging the finished product. Toni showed Billy how to position the guide, how to slice the thick slabs into cakes of soap, and how to wrap each individual cake. She punctuated nearly every single word with the word 'like' and Billy had to fight very hard against slipping into that speech pattern.

It was tedious work and it was boring work. Billy could see that it would be very easy to become bored and distracted, very easy to accidentally slice off a finger.

"Man! Need go a little faster you; we got us ten more trays do yeah," the morbidly obese girl at the station next to his declared.

"First day on the job here," Billy retorted.

"Doing fine," the very feminine man to his right said. "Babette's just like that, that's all."

Soon, Billy did have a rhythm going and was able to catch up to Babette's almost manic speed. This earned him a curt nod from the girl.

"So? How was your first day at A and A?" Craig asked when Billy sat at the dinner table that evening.

"I think I understand why James Boudreaux drank on the job," Billy admitted.

Again, just after his shower, Cheryl came into his room and swallowed one load down her throat before taking another load into her pussy. His semen was oozing from her stretched, raw looking pussy as she left his room and Billy worried about this. Craig might be deaf when he took out his hearing aid, but the man wasn't blind.

*

Jerry's face was twisted in rage.

Blood. There was so much blood. Blood was everywhere.

*

Billy's first paycheck was seven hundred and nine dollars. After slapping three crisp one hundred dollar bills onto the wood grain dining table, which both Cheryl and Craig grabbed for, Billy still had four hundred and nine dollars. He had only used roughly two hundred dollars out of his First Union Bank account.

As he spent more time around Craig Goodwin, Billy truly did feel guilty for fucking the man's wife behind his back. Even if Craig did have trouble getting it up, and keeping it up, according to Cheryl, he didn't deserve his wife cheating on him.

There was an apartment complex visible from the employee's parking lot behind A&A Soaps. Telling Cheryl he had an errand to run, Billy drove to the complex and looked around. It was an older building, but it looked well maintained. There were no cars on blocks in the parking lot; in fact, two of the cars were luxury automobiles.

Four twenty five a month for a one bedroom apartment was less than he would be spending to rent a room from the Goodwins. True, he would also have to pay his own electric bill, pay for his own food. But he would also not have the guilt of fucking a married woman under her husband's roof.

Billy's announcement to the Goodwins that he'd found an apartment turned A & A Soaps into a hostile work environment. Cheryl did not like losing a good hard young cock. Graig simply shrugged and when Cheryl stormed out of the room Craig just smiled and shrugged again.

"Almost feel like paying you one fifty a week keep fucking the pig," Craig muttered when they both heard the door slam.

"You uh, you know about that?" Billy stammered.

Craig's answer was another shrug. Billy endured Cheryl's nasty attitude and catty Comments, at home and on the job with grace. Years of swallowing his words and his bile under his father's tyrannical rule had taught him that ability.

*

Jerry's face was twisted in rage.

Blood. There was so much blood. Blood was everywhere.

*

O'Neil's Furniture in Elgee had furniture that they were extremely proud of. Billy looked at the prices and walked out. Craig's List netted him a loveseat that folded down to create a twin sized bed. The owner of that loveseat had a small barrel chair in light blue tweed. The light blue tweed complimented the light brown leather of the loveseat so Billy gave the man another fifty bucks, then gave the man's lover yet another twenty five to deliver the two pieces to his new apartment.

"Right there, and right back," the older man said. "No sticking around show him how the couch folds out."

"I won't!" the young man lisped.

"No, no, I'm coming with you," the lover demanded.

"I don't care," the other man said.

Billy said nothing; he had no other way of getting the pieces of furniture to his apartment. The two men kept up their bickering until they slammed the doors of the lover's pickup. Then, as they backed up to the apartment complex, the bickering started up again as Billy and the lover hefted the loveseat and carried it to Billy's second floor apartment.

"Here, I found these sheets for it," the older man said, thrusting a set of white sheets to Billy.

"Hey, terrific!" Billy said.

"You know, what I'd do? I'd get a little stand, put my television right there, you know, so you don't get the light from the setting sun?" the lover said.

"Why don't you just decorate his whole place while you're here?" the older man snapped.

"Oh good God," Billy thought as the two men left, still snapping at one another.

O'Neil's Furniture did have an electronics department, but seeing how expensive their furniture was, Billy didn't even bother looking at their electronics. Again, his cell phone's Internet search netted him a 26" flat screen for ninety nine dollars. But he did have to go to O'Neil's for a mattress and box spring; St. Elizabeth and St. Ann Parishes both had laws against selling used mattresses.

Billy was friendly with the people at his work. Even Babette had warmed, slightly. He nodded and greeted his neighbors at the apartment building. But Billy was lonely. He spent a lot of time thinking about Michelle, about Sarah.

On Sarah's seventeenth birthday, Billy tucked a twenty dollar bill into a silly birthday card, put the Holy Redemption Church's address as the return address and addressed the envelope to Sarah. Unless the Reverend Jerry Stevens looked at the postmark, saw that it had been mailed from the Elgee, Louisiana Post Office, he would just assume it was from one of the three volunteers that served as secretary at his church.

One of the volunteers had set up a Facebook page for the church. Seeing that it could be used to reach out, to manipulate and coerce funds from his followers, the Reverend allowed a computer into his home. The computer sat in the living room, where he could monitor Michelle, Billy and Sarah's use of the machine. He had allowed Sarah to set up a Facebook page, but he did keep a wary eye on her page.

'Hi! I don't know if you remember me. Julie Suzanne; sat right behind you in Ms. Moissaint's class, sixth grade.'

'Miss Moissaint didn't teach sixth grade. She was my fourth grade teacher,' was the reply, so Billy knew it was Sarah, and not Jerry.

'Hi, it's Billy,' he typed out on his phone.

'OMG!' and a smiley face followed.

Billy told her he loved her, told her he missed her.