Goodnight and Good Luc Chapter 6

I had not yet read the last entry, but I knew something was amiss. While Abigail was out on Saturday, I found my most beloved blue dress that I lent to her ripped to pieces in her room. It brought me to tears, thinking about my own history with that dress. Then on Saturday, I waited anxiously for her to come home. Usually she was home by 11, but today it was 1 am and I hadn't even received a text. I paced the house frantically. Where could she be? Did something happen to her?

Then a little after 2, I heard our front door squeak open. A big, muscular kid whose body was covered with tattoos and piercings walked in. He was carrying my Abigail, who looked barely recognizable in her skimpy shirt and short skirt. The only thing that looked familiar was her iconic glasses.

"What happened to her? Is she ok?" I cried out in panic.

The boy laughed at my desperation.

"Relax lady, she just had a little too much fun, if you know what I mean." I grimaced in disgust.

"I most certainly do not. Has she been drinking?" I inquired.

"Drinking, smoking, fooling around. Not a bad way to spend an evening," he casually responded.

I noticed an unfamiliar sensation in my body. I would have to read her diary to get all of the details.

"That doesn't sound like Abigail at all! What is happening to her?" I cried.

"She's simping hard core for my old man. She's such a skank, she'd do just about anything to get in his pants," he said. So this must be that Jimmy kid that Abigail described so vividly in her diary.

"What did you just call my daughter?" I asked combatively.

"A skank, a ho, a dirty slut. Does it really matter?" he indifferently responded.

My blood started to boil in rage and my nipples hardened.

I exploded at him, "Listen to me, you pitiful excuse for a human. You will speak respectfully to and about my daughter. She's the most brilliant, caring, and loving person I've ever met."

"Oh, she's caring and loving alright. Can't argue with that." As he spoke, he started groping Abigail's body over her clothes. I gasped.

"As far as brilliant goes, if she wants any shot at my dad, she's gonna need to be dumb as a doornail. He can't stand smart chicks," he said matter of factly as he continued feeling up my unconscious daughter. I was too shocked to even move.

"Why would my beautiful and intelligent daughter have any interest in trailer trash scum like your dad?" I demanded.

He shrugged. "The heart wants what it wants," he replied, his dirty hands continuing to brazenly molest my daughter right in front of me.

"You of all people should understand that," he said staring right through me.

"What could you possibly mean by that?" I asked incredulously.

"Well look at how turned on you are watching me feel up this ho," he said, pushing up Abigail's bra and exposing her bare breasts.

"I beg your pardon. My daughter is not a 'ho'" I said indignantly.

"Sure she is. And you didn't deny being turned on," he added smugly.

"Of course I'm not turned on!! I'm her Mother for God's sake!!! And I want nothing to do with a common hooligan like you." I shouted, my voice dripping with disdain.

"I think your wet pussy would disagree," he smirked.

Of all the absurd things! Number one, how would he possibly ascertain such a thing. And number two, there are many causes of vaginal moistness that have absolutely nothing to do with arousal.

"You're a disgusting pig," I spat.

"Maybe I am. But that would make me exactly your type, wouldn't it?" he grinned, continuing to rub his grubby hands all over poor Abigail.

"On the contrary, my 'type' is gentlemen like my husband Dennis who is sensitive and kind and knows how to treat the women in his life with the respect we deserve," I argued.

"Bullshit, you like assholes- just like your slutty ass daughter here," he said, reaching his hand under her skirt and feeling up her behind.

It was quite a sight for a mother to behold. My beloved daughter, passed out and unconscious, being felt up by a miscreant. My heart was

racing and my breathing labored. I must have been furious.

"Get your filthy hands off of her!!" I screamed.

At this, he took his hands off of Abigail, shrugged his shoulders and grinned at me.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask," he said. I felt embarrassed. I must have been in too much shock. Besides, wouldn't that be an obvious request?

"Get the hell out of my house this instant before I call the police," I threatened.

"You wouldn't do that," he said confidently.

"And why is that?" I asked sarcastically.

"Because you have a huge crush on me," he grinned broadly.

I laughed at the sheer absurdity of such a statement.

"I most certainly do not," I said haughtily.

"Well it doesn't matter anyway because you're not my type," he shrugged.

"Let me guess, you like brainless bimbos like your dad." I rolled my eyes.

"They're fun sometimes, not gonna lie. But my type is smart women who dominate in all areas of life, but submit to me and do my bidding," he said, eyeing me with newfound intensity.

"Yeah, good luck finding that," I smirked.

Ignoring me, he continued, "The first thing I want you to do is help me finish corrupting this bitch here." He dumped Abigail's lifeless body on the floor, splaying her legs obscenely.

"Why on earth would I do that?" I asked incredulously.

"Because I know the idea of her becoming a mindless fuck toy is as hot for you as it is for me and my dad," he replied.

"Are you out of your mind? I raised her from the time she was a little girl to be smart, independent, and compassionate. She's right on the cusp of fulfilling her dream of going to Harvard," I pleaded.

Again, disregarding my thoughts he continued, "She trusts you and wants to please you. Find subtle ways to encourage her to spend less time studying and more time partying. You can't be obvious- at least not until her brain is turned to rot,"

"Get the hell out of my house and never come back!" I shouted.

"So I should just leave her here?" He shrugged. "Fine with me."

"No, wait! Carry her to her room, so she wakes up in her bed," I ordered.

"Are you forgetting something?" he asked.

I racked my brain.

"You're a mom. Didn't you teach your kids the magic word?"

I grit my teeth. It was utterly humiliating.. but I couldn't just have her wake up on the floor in the living room. She'd be so frightened..

"Please, can you carry her to her room?" I asked, forcing a smile and doing my best to be polite.

"See babe, was that so hard?" Misogynistic bastard...

He scooped Abigail up in his strong, tattooed arms and carried her up the stairs. I followed closely behind, directing him to her room. Once there, he laid her down on her bed.

"Thank you," I said awkwardly.

"Good girl," he said. I felt myself inexplicably perk up. It was odd to say the least to be called 'girl', as he was young enough to be my son.

At 40, I still considered myself to be a 'young' mom. I worked out regularly and was sure to nurture my body and mind. Like Abigail, I had long brunette hair which I often wore in a pony tail. I also wore glasses. It was not unusual for people to mistake us for sisters- which I found undeniably flattering.

I had Abigail right after college and I was worried that my career would be derailed. Thankfully, she was about the easiest kid imaginable. She was reading easily by age 4, and often just kept herself entertained with her books. When Allison came around four years later, Abigail was fully responsible at age 8 to babysit and set a good example.

Jimmy interrupted my nostalgic daydreaming, returning me to the horror of the present moment. "Now help me get her ready for bed," he ordered. Without thinking, I obeyed. We each removed one of her heels, exposing the feet I would later learn had enjoyed quite an adventure that night.

Jimmy took the lead in removing her skirt, and I took the initiative in pulling her top (what there was of it) over her head. I unclasped her bra, while Jimmy removed her panties.

For a moment I took in the sight of my naked daughter. It was the first time I had seen her body since she was a little kid. The smooth curves and shapliness of her teenage body was undeniably alluring. Of course, I was looking at her as her mother- but I could understand intellectually how she could catalyze arousal in the opposite sex.

As the thought entered my mind, I became aware of Jimmy's continued presence. I quickly got her pajamas from her drawer, and proceeded to put on her top. Jimmy put on her bottoms, being sure to get in a few more crude gropes.

Once she was fully dressed, we tucked her in under the covers. She unconsciously raised up her arms and yawned.

"Goodnight, my sweet Abigail," I said to her, as I had since she was a baby. I gave her a tender maternal kiss on the forehead, while Jimmy got in one more maul of her breasts.

We tiptoed out of the room, just like Dennis and I used to do when she was a baby. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, I looked right at Jimmy and said, "I want you and your dad to stay the hell away from Abigail,"

"There's only problem with that," he said.

"And what would that be?" I asked.

"If you want to be with me, you need to help me with Abigail's degradation." What an absurd notion!

"Well that won't be a problem because I'm happily married, I don't remotely want to be with you, and I would never do anything to harm my daughter," I responded forcefully.

"Well in that case, I guess I won't be seeing you again," he shrugged. A surge of contradictory emotions coursed through my body.

"Good riddance," I said, slamming the door. I let out a huge sigh, fell to my knees, and wept.

Entry 6

October 30, 2023

Dear Diary,

There are no words adequate to express the shame I felt waking up the next day. The hangover was predictably excruciating, but I was glad on some level to be receiving some kind of divine punishment for my behavior. I had fooled around with a man who couldn't hold a candle to William as far as decency, compassion, and intelligence. At least I had the self control not to go all the way with him. William was the most devoted boyfriend a girl could ever ask for. I could never cheat on him. I owed him at least that much.

But my illicit tryst with Trevor was the tip of the iceberg. There was also my undeniable attraction to Candace, a girl I would have deemed not smart enough to talk to a few weeks ago. I'd never experienced attraction to girls before, but seeing Candace embrace and express her sexuality so openly was something I'd never seen anyone do before. What we shared was so obscenely vulgar. She licked another man's cum off my toes and drooled it back into my mouth. The fact that she was clearly attempting to aid and abet in my corruption only added to her sex appeal.

Speaking of corruption, I crossed boundaries that had been red lines my entire life. I smoked- not because I was forced to, but because I asked to. I drank- waaaay too much- to placate the man supplying the cigarettes. But the elephant in the room was Frank.

When he walked in on me and Trevor, I continued my lewd behavior unabated. Although I was humiliated for him to see me naked, it sent me to orgasmic heights I'd never experienced before. When everyone else left, he confronted me candidly with the qualities he looks for in a girl. Without exception, they were abhorrent. Yet rather then repel me they seduced me into a feeling of rapturous ecstasy unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

They were an affront to every feminist ideal- or frankly humanitarian ideal I'd ever had. But instead of recoiling, arguing back or running for the hills I started literally masturbating in front of him!! And when I thought it was impossible for me to be more turned on, he dropped the holy grail. If I followed his path of absolute degradation, maybe- just maybe- I could be "his girl".

It is impossible to even write or think these words without cumming on the spot. I imagined what our courtship would be like. Rather than call me his 'muse', write poetry about me, and take me to the symphony the way William does, he would abuse, degrade, and demean me mentally and physically. If I was submissive to all of his whims, maybe he would propose marriage. We would live together in his filthy trailer as husband and wife. If I was a good wife, maybe he'd allow me to be the mother of his children. I could give William a baby brother or sister!! I would be his step mom!! My panties were soaked at such a deranged thought.

I needed to bury these insane delusions and come back to reality. I was William's girlfriend. William was the love of my life. William was the only one who made my heart soar.

It was all coming back to me. I was Abigail- straight A student, feminist leader, music lover, book lover, activist. My problem is that I was more vulnerable to influences than I previously thought- both people and substances. If I kept company with my family, close friends, and William then there was no reason I couldn't recover from this one embarrassing transgression.

I started with my family. It was after noon on Sunday when I finally felt recovered enough to venture downstairs in my pajamas. My whole family was downstairs enjoying brunch. I could smell that my mom was making French toast- my favorite!

"Good morning, sweetheart" my mom greeted me warmly. "I didn't hear you come in last night,".

I could tell she was watching me more closely than usual recently. It was like she had a sixth sense.

"Yeah.. I got stuck at the Safe Ride party waiting for the drunk people to leave," I said. Technically true.

"If only these young people had an outlet other than drugs and alcohol- music or books or getting involved in a cause greater than themselves," my dad lamented. I loved my dad so much. He raised me to always respect myself and to behave accordingly. He treated my mom so well that I came to desire and expect such treatment for myself.

"Maybe you could be a positive influence on them?" he added. I swallowed hard. If only he knew.

"I don't like the idea of her going over there, Dennis. It sounds like a really bad crowd." My mom piped in. She really has been unusually protective of me lately.

"It's nothing to worry about mom," I said cheerily. "I'm just helping out people who are too scared to tell their parents they've been drinking, but want to get home safely."

"It sounds like noble work to me," my dad said approvingly.

"Just be careful. You'll meet a lot of people who don't have your best interest at heart pressuring you to do things you don't want to do," my mom lectured. I gulped. It was like she knew.

I quickly changed the subject. Turning to my sister Allison, I asked, "How is high school treating you?"

Allison was my mini-me. Standing at just over five feet, everything about her was cute as a button. Like me, she wore glasses and put her long brown hair back in a ponytail. She was also fiercely intelligent, and fearless about asserting her point of view. She thought I hung the moon. And for my part, I would go to any lengths to protect her.

"If you ignore all of the shallow influencer types and the creeps, it has its rare moments of intellectual stimulation," she chirped wittily.

I laughed. "I guess we need to savor those moments, rare as they are, and do everything in our power to expand them."

"Yeah, you're right. I just wish we lived in a society where women were recognized for our brains, not for wearing the trendiest top," she replied.

I nodded in agreement. I could never wear any of Candace's clothes in front of her. I had to model an example of femininity that was elegantly beautiful and always intelligent and outspoken.

"You girls are going to change the world. I just know it!!!" dad said proudly. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, embarrassed by my recent behavior.

A knock at the door disrupted our family bonding,

"Who could that be on a Sunday morning? You guys keep eating, I'll get it," my mom said with annoyance.

I heard William's voice at the door,

"Good morning, Mrs. Hochbyrd," he greeted her.

"William! What a delightful surprise!! Come on in! I know Abigail will be so happy to see you!" my mom welcomed him warmly.

I practically bolted out of my chair.

"William!!!" I gushed as we embraced. Tears formed in my eyes as I thought about my uncharacteristic actions yesterday. It needed to stop now. I needed to get a hold of myself and remember who I am.

"You are like an angel, and an angel is like you,"

he whispered in my ear.

"I do love nothing in the world so well as you," I responded.

We got lost in each others' eyes. William leaned in for a kiss. As our lips met, I remembered that this was the man I truly loved.

We were interrupted by mom. "Would you like to join us for French toast, William?"

"Yes, thank you very much, Mrs. Hochbyrd."

"The pleasure is all mine," she replied, leading the way to the kitchen.

"William!!" My dad welcomed him heartily, putting his arm around him in a paternal manner. "What a happy surprise!"

"Hi," Allison greeted him shyly. As someone who idealized me the way she did, it wouldn't surprise me if she had a tiny crush on William.

"It's so great to see you all!" he exclaimed.

My family adored William, and the feeling was most definitely mutual. Given his pernicious upbringing, he came to think of them as a second family.

They asked him about school and college applications. William had decided to apply Early Decision for Yale. He thought that would be the best fit for his interest in literature. That reminded me that I should probably think about that too.

"So to what do we owe the pleasure of your company today, William?" my mom asked warmly.

"Well it's a bit strange. When I woke up this morning, Abigail's car was in my driveway," he said.

My face went instantly red. I realized that I had absolutely no memory of how I got home last night. The last thing I remembered was Frank picking me up and carrying me to his truck. My car- the one I had driven to Trevor's house as an ostensible "Safe ride"- would still be at Trevor's. I had no clue how my car would end up at William's place.

I opened my mouth to explain, but William cut me off. "Don't worry, Jimmy told me everything."

I gulped. I noticed my mom shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"He did?" I asked, utterly mortified. Could it be that William already knew about my shame?

"Yeah.. that really sucks that your car wouldn't start right after you dropped everyone off at my place after the party,"

"Uh..., yeah. That was really annoying. I was so tired," I said.

It was the first time I'd ever lied to William. I felt sick to my stomach. He trusted me so much any inkling of dishonesty from me was not remotely on his radar.

"I bet you were! I'm just grateful that Jimmy was able to give you a ride back so you weren't stuck with my dad," he said earnestly.

"Thank goodness for Jimmy," I laughed awkwardly. My mom fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Well, it started up just fine this morning. You should take it in, just to be sure. I'm just sorry I was sound asleep yesterday, or I would have helped you myself," William said.

"Well everything worked out ok, and now you're here to keep me company," I said holding his hand, wanting nothing more than for this conversation to be over.

William and my family continued to chat about everything under the sun. It was clear he felt closer to them than to his own family. I had a difficult time focusing. My thoughts vacillated wildly from my guilt at lying to William to the inappropriate feelings I was developing for Trevor to the very real love I felt for my devoted boyfriend. I disallowed any thoughts about his father.

In my highly agitated state, I just wanted to turn my mind off. What I really wanted was a ciga... No, I could not go there. No thoughts of smoking or Frank. No thoughts of smoking or Frank. Smoking or Frank. Smoking or Frank.