The accident had been bad, I mean really bad. The story I got, and how much was omitted I guess I'll never know; was that another driver was on their cellphone, they crossed the lanes and clipped the rear passenger corner of dad's SUV. Apparently at over seventy miles an hour, the basic reaction is that your car does this momentum turn which put Dad literally sitting sideways in the lane. The only thing that saved his life was that the other car that actually hit him, hit his passenger side. It didn't save that driver; and for that the guy on the cellphone got twenty years for vehicular manslaughter.
Not that I didn't feel sorry for the other family, I did; but my main focus was on my father. When I walked into the hospital room all I saw was the ventilator tubing and all the wires coming out of him. I didn't know whether to cry or scream.
Every day for over a month I stopped in; every time he just lay there. Mom never left his bedside; they brought her meals, I brought her clothes and what she needed. I swear she never let go of that hand the entire time.
My parents had met just after high school; and as Dad said things just 'clicked'. They were great parents, I loved them both; and the devotion between them was more than evident. It was those small touches, and looks that let you know there was a real love living there.
It hurt to watch mom just sit there, but I knew there was no way in hell she was leaving his side. She was there when he suddenly squeezed her hand and she cried as she stared into his eyes.
Slowly, mom explained to him what had happened. It was strange just listening to her be so matter of fact as she explained the accident; and the extent of his injuries. Broken leg, fractured pelvis, collapsed lung; God the list went on. My Dad was US Army, two tours of Iraq; like the rock he had always been, he just lay there and listened.
It took another week or so, before the doctors felt he was able to breathe without the machine. When they took the tube out, I wasn't surprised at his first word.
"Kiss" he whispered softly. I watched as mom bent down and kissed those swollen and bruised lips.
I tried over the following week, to get mom to go home and rest, she would have nothing to do with it. Like a devoted puppy she never left his side. I marveled at the love between them, never realizing how much more was behind it.
On a Friday I had gotten out of classes and headed from the campus to the hospital. I was surprised when I walked in the room when I saw mom sitting in a chair by the window. To not see her at the bedside, something had changed. I could tell Dad was a bit angry, and mom wouldn't look at him.
When Dad saw me come in the room, he looked over at mom. "Sylvia" he spoke one word.
Mom instant rose from the chair and looked at him. Not a damn word was spoken, but something passed between them, mom bowed her head and without a sound walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. What the hell was going on?
"Get my keys from my pants." Dad's voice sounded slightly winded.
I went to the small closet by the sink where they store patient belongings and pulled the keys from his pants pocket. I walked back to his bed and started to hand the keys to him; but Dad shook his head no.
"Show them to me" he said.
One at a time I went through the key ring, holding up each key. Dad lay there silent. When I lifted the small gold key he raised his hand. I slid the single key from the ring and returned the others to his pants. When I stood beside his hospital bed he looked up at me.
"In the playroom...closet" he said softly "Tomorrow...come alone." I watched as he closed his eyes. I knew the whole episode had taken a tremendous effort, which meant it was something very important to him.
As I left him sleeping, mom slipped back into the room from the hall. I wondered if she had even eaten today as she softly kissed his cheek. Soft words were exchanged, I saw mom shake her head; but I could tell by the look in dad's eyes there was no changing his mind. Slowly mom walked over to where I stood by the door.
"Home" was all she said softly.
The entire ride home was almost surreal; mom sat silent the entire drive. I could tell something was bothering her, more than what had just happened, but she didn't seem ready to talk. I thought about telling her about the key, but the fact dad had made her leave the room made me hesitate.
At home, mom made supper for the two of us; when we were done with the dishes she headed for her bedroom; and I knew she would be asleep in minutes, as exhausted as she had to be.
I waited for a bit to make sure she wasn't coming back downstairs; then headed for the basement. Years ago Dad had converted the large open basement into what he called the playroom. It had a couch, a pool table; a flat screen television. All the electronics every teenage boy played was hooked to the damn thing. Since I had started college last year, I really hadn't visited the room much. Honestly, a lot of my teenage years had been spent in this room.
The small closet off to the side was where they kept their liquor, one of the reasons for the lock. It was also where we would stash the game decks when we left on trips, no point in inviting robbery dad always felt.
I used the small gold key and unlocked the door; I pulled the chain for the light and glanced around. There were boxes stacked along one side, and the other was a built in shelf for all their liquor. Whatever Dad had sent me to find had to be in one of the boxes. I pulled the first out and lifted the lid; God I thought we had gotten rid of all these old records in favor of CD's. The next box held some old photo albums; mostly from vacations and family get together I saw. It was the third box I pulled free that I hit the biggest surprise of my life.
"Holy shit" I whispered.
I drew out the fur lined hand cuffs and then the blindfold, and then came the small whip. There were two long leather straps and I wondered what they hooked them to; then it hit me. Turning I looked over the pool table behind me; there, mounted in the open beam above the table were two small rings.
"Jesus Christ" I almost moaned as I pulled out the most massive black dick I had ever seen. The veins ran down the length of what had to be ten or twelve inches of fat rubber.
No point in asking how they used this, I thought, as flecks of crusted white fell off the huge dong. I continued to pull out various toys and odds and ends; God damn they were kinky. Finally, I pulled out what I thought was a wadded velvet cloth, but it was wrapped around something. Unfolding the cloth I just knelt there and stared.
In my hand was a small leather collar, the black a sharp contract to the silver studs encircling it; what caused a sudden rush of blood to my groin, was the name embossed in gold...Sylvia.
"Mom" I whispered.
I knelt in the playroom, so many thoughts rolling through my brain; mom the adoring wife, mom the loving partner, mom the submissive. It explained so much that I had passed over and taken for granted for over twenty years.
The thousands of times it only took a look from my father and mom would be moving and somehow know exactly what he wanted; the same woman who sat at a hospital bedside, like a lost soul for over a month.
I carefully replaced everything back into the box, slipping the wrapped collar into my pants pocket. Replacing the box I locked the door and headed to my room. I would like to say I was the dutiful son who changed, went to bed and went to sleep. Sorry to disappoint everyone. By then I had the most raging hardon of my life; I needed relief.
I lay on my bed, holding that collar in one hand, while the other stroked my eight inch cock like a mad man trying to drill for oil. Visions floated through my mind; dad shoving that black dick up mom's tight pussy while he fucked her ass; mom handcuffed bent over the pool table while dad fucked her into submission. The worst was when I saw her kneeling on the pool table, arms stretched in the air; drool dripping from the corners of her mouth as a hard cock rammed down her throat; only it wasn't dad's cock, it was mine.
I wasn't a virgin by any measure, and I have to admit I had been a bit dominant at times, but never to that extent. The mere thought made my balls boil, and I shot the biggest load of my fucking life all over my belly.
The funny thing was, as sleep settled in my brain; I had the realization that mom didn't know. Dad had done this without telling her. Why? I knew I would be returning tomorrow, and hopefully I could get some answers.
The next morning I figured head to the hospital early. Trying to catch dad at his strongest, I figured if I came in the morning he would be better rested. The thought paid off as I found him half sitting up finishing a small breakfast as I walked into his room.
Silently I sat in the chair and waited while he finished, he glanced at me once and just nodded. As he set his small cup of coffee down, he looked over at me.
"You brought it with you." It wasn't a question, more of a statement.
"Yes." I said.
"The doctors told me yesterday" he said calmly as if changing the subject was no problem. "That it's going to be at least four to six weeks before I get out of here."
