*** Disclaimer ***
The following story may contain themes of hypnosis, mind control, non-consent, paranormal, cheating, cuckoldry, voyeurism, incest, gang bangs, and other forms of debauchery. This may not be the story for you.
This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Debauchery Falls chapter 01
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The tension in the car was palpable. The only sound was the drum of rain on the roof, the tires on the wet road, and the endless swooshing of the wipers.
In the distance, lightning flashed and for a moment, the night became as bright as day. The road, the trees, and the forest could be seen for miles. They were the only car on the road, and neither occupant was surprised by this.
"Wow, that was a good one," Brad Tanner commented.
She didn't reply for several long minutes.
Eventually they passed a green and white road sign. JASPER FALLS 5 MILES.
As if scorned by the sign, Andrea Tanner popped her gun for the millionth time and sighed. "I don't know why you had to bring me along for this. If there really is a problem, what do you expect me to do? I'm not Batman."
Brad held his composure. It wouldn't do either of them any good to lose his patience. They'd been at each other's throats for the past few days now. Ever since Emily stopped answering her phone. "Because it shows that you care. This is your sister, we're talking about."
"But I don't care. I really don't. And even if I did, that wouldn't make a world of difference if Em is in some kind of trouble. I'm not even old enough to drink. Did you think about that? It's been raining non-stop. The town is probably wrecked, and you took your daughter into a flood. Great fuckin' idea, dad."
"Watch your mouth," Brad said, tightening his grip on the wheel and keeping his voice as neutral as possible. Although that was becoming more and more difficult lately. Andrea had always been the rebellious type, ever since she'd hit her teens. Defiance, cursing, loud music, and risqué clothes had taken over. Then Andrea's mother had passed away a year ago. Despite feigning apathy, the loss had effected Andrea deeper than she would ever admit to her father, her older sister, or the school guidance counselor. Now she was 18, had barely managed to graduate high school, and was becoming more obnoxious with each passing day. She'd dyed her hair a shade of raven black, come home with a nose ring (among other accessories), and began to cover her face with copious amounts of makeup. Brad liked to think of himself as a pretty patient father. He could tolerate her fashion choices-- every generation did something radical that their parents didn't understand. He accepted the piercings-- they were relatively moderate, all things considered. But the makeup bothered him. Andrea had been blessed with girl-next-door good looks. Cute freckles, full pink lips, big brown eyes, and arching eyebrows. She could have been that all American sweetheart. But now she looked borderline Goth, and it matched her sullen personality.
Brad got it. He really did. They were all broken by the loss. Brad most of all. He missed his wife terribly. Andrea was handling it by emotionally distancing from her former self. And her older sister Emily was distancing herself from... well... everyone. Emily and her husband had recently bought a house in some isolated little one-horse town in the woods. A former one room school house, they were in the process of converting it into a home. But since the passing of her mother, Emily had thrown herself into the project, 100%. Her progress was feverish, and she spent less and less time checking in with her father.
Then this past week, severe storms were sweeping across the state, bringing record breaking rainfall and floods. Rivers overflowed, the power grid was failing, and relief workers were overwhelmed.
Jasper Falls was isolated enough without the looming threat of dangerous weather. And when Brad wasn't able to reach out to Emily, he decided to take matters into his own hands.
Was it foolish? Probably. But he needed to know she was safe. And he needed Andrea to come along, for his own mental sanity. He needed to hold onto his remaining family as tightly as he could. Losing his wife was terrible, but now Brad began to feel like he was losing both of his daughters. Their hands were slipping away from his.
Plus... he wasn't going to leave Andrea alone in the house for any length of time. By now, he trusted her as far as he could throw her.
Andrea shook her head, folded her arms across her chest, and propped one of her worn Chuck Taylor's on the dashboard. Her pleated jean skirt-- already dangerously short-- slid upward, revealing her smooth creamy thigh.
Idly, Brad wondered just how short she'd let her attire get. She'd nearly flashed half the mini-mart when they'd stopped for gas and gone inside for snacks. Everyone had practically seen the bottoms of her perky ass cheeks. Was she even wearing underwear? He didn't want to know.
Andrea caught her dad's disapproving glance from the corner of her eye. "See something you like?" She asked, and her thick lipstick coated mouth pulled into a dark smile. She ran her hand over her thigh suggestively.
Brad sighed and turned back to the road. It was times like this, he didn't know what to make of his daughter. She was starting to make him uncomfortable and--
The turnoff. The only road into town was easy to miss. It came up quickly, and Brad hit the brakes. Wet tires screeched on wet pavement, and for one terrifying moment, the car began to fishtail.
"Jesus dad!" Andrea blurted out, her casual apathy broken by sudden alarm.
Then the car righted itself, and Brad pulled north onto Kings Lane. The forest closed in around the road, forming a tunnel of trees that swallowed the tiny sedan.
A few miles up, and the bridge over Jernigan Creek came into view. Brad slowed.
"Oh my god," he muttered when he saw the rushing brown current. It hadn't reached the bridge, but the water was high. Very high, considering for half the summer, the creek bed was empty and lined with dry boulders.
Brad navigated them slowly around a few police saw horses that blocked the bridge.
"Umm, dad, I think those are there for a reason," Andrea remarked sarcastically.
"Well we're outlaws, then," Brad wasn't in the mood for her commentary. Then they were in the town proper.
"Town" was an embellishment. There were only three roads branching off of Kings Lane, shaping the area like an uppercase E. Small hunting style cabins, and modest two-story family homes lined the gravel roads, set back on large grassy plots of land. There was a two story dive bar/hotel dating back to the 1800's at one intersection, an abandoned church hidden in the trees to the south, an open fairgrounds lot to the north, and not much else. All nestled into a valley surrounded on the east, north, and west by steep mountains and thick forest-- more of a crater than a valley, really-- and it was only accessible from the south.
"Ghost town," Andrea remarked, leaning forward in her seat, and wrapping her arms tighter around herself. An expression of unease broke through that mask of carefully crafted apathy.
Indeed, there wasn't a light on in the entire town. Not only had power been extinguished, but there was no sign of life. No candles lit within the pulled curtains, no fireplaces going, no smoke emanating from chimneys, no running cars, or flares, or people walking, and no chugging generators. Everything was as still as could be.
