Dad needs son's help with injured stepmother.
Dad abandons injured wife for a work conference, and orders son to babysit her and use extreme measures if he must.
This is a progression story that takes place over a very unusual week.
A special thanks to ChiefHal for helping to proofread and ensuring the story is in decent shape.
He did authorise Extreme Measures
Chapter 1 - Monday
I'd just completed my second year at university and was looking forward to a week off, before my summer job started, when I got a call from my dad. What he asked for annoyed me, but I knew being pissy about it was a waste of time. My stepmother had been in a car accident and hurt her hands recently. He had a week-long conference and needed me to help Lilly around the house.
Why he waited until the last minute to tell me, was typical of him. But he sounded stressed, and I appreciated his financial support, while a student. So, I threw a few things in a backpack and drove over, only to find him in the driveway. Virtually tapping his foot in impatience. Hey, he'd only just told me. I could have been out or away with friends.
"I thought her injuries weren't that bad?" I said, as I stepped from the car.
Her brakes had failed, and the crash broke her thumbs and hurt the first two fingers on each hand. I'd visited her in the hospital with a get-well card and flowers to see her hands wrapped up.
"They're not. She can manage most things herself. It's the drugs she's on. Something experimental and new that is supposed to accelerate healing by up to 20%. But the side effects are; well, not good."
"Oh, that's unfortunate. What are they? Nausea?"
He shook his head. Paused to think, then explained.
"They make her extremely libidinous."
"As in..." I smirked and his eyes sparkled. "I bet you're loving that."
Dad grinned, like a boy given the keys to the candy store. Before turning serious again.
"But that's why I need you here." I frowned, and he realised he needed to explain more. "Under normal circumstances, more than a few days is too long for her."
That was something I didn't want to know.
"And a week is a stretch. The pills make her high, a bit loopy, and..."
"Horny?" I blurted out and regretted it, as he scowled.
"I suppose...it's accurate. They hit her quickly, but less than an hour after she takes the pills, she's out like a light for three hours or more. I worry she'll do something she'll regret while not herself."
"She'd never cheat on you, dad."
Something I was far less certain of with dad. He'd cheated on my mum more than once that led to their divorce.
"Are you saying you've never done something you shouldn't have, when you're under the influence of booze?"
"So, you really want me to babysit her. What am I supposed to do if she tries to leave? Tackle her to the ground and tie her up?"
"If that's what it takes."
"I was joking."
"I'm not. I'm serious. You have my permission to use extreme measures."
I crossed my arms over my chest, and gave dad a look that demanded more.
"OK, look. Perhaps I'm a bit paranoid about this, because of my own activities in the past. But your mother..."
"Stepmother." I corrected, but he ignored me.
"Has fantasies that are kind of dark and I worry that a lack of judgement, and excess libido, will cause her to do something she'll regret. I'm serious about letting you use extreme measures."
Dad was genuinely worried, and while I was sure he was overreacting, I thought it was better to humour him.
"Does she know?"
"I said you'd be staying to help around the house. Run errands for her and open stiff jar lids."
"Fine," I said, with exaggerated resignation.
I grabbed my backpack and saw him drive off, from the front door, then headed into the house.
Chapter 2
The house had a built-in garage on the left of the front door, and my old room was beyond that. In the corner of the house was the bathroom that could be accessed both from the master bedroom and the rest of the house. Along the back wall was the master bedroom. Leaving the main body of the house an open plan living space with a kitchen and breakfast bar.
Lilly was sitting on a tall stool and awkwardly flicking through a magazine. She looked over and gave me a nod. We were polite, but not that close. I resented her a little, even if she wasn't the reason my parents split. But just a reminder of that. It was also a little weird, that the age difference between us, was less than that between her and dad.
I'd been eager to move out, as the soundproofing of the house was poor and I hated hearing them going at it. OK, I accepted that they would make love, but it always drew images in my head; imagining what they were doing. And getting hard, imagining her naked, was bad. She was a great-looking woman. Almost boyish short dark hair, but her body was very feminine.
I moved to my old room to dump my bag and groaned, as I saw it full of her art supplies. She had a habit of throwing herself into some new hobby or another.
"Sorry, your dad never said he'd invited you to stay."
"He never told me either," I replied.
I dumped my bag on the L shaped couch. Realising I'd probably have to sleep there.
"Did he say why you're here?"
"Yep. Opener of difficult jars, grocery runner and wiper of stubborn bottoms." I joked.
She held up her hands and wiggled her ring and little fingers.
"Not quite, but not far off. And the rest?"
Any subterfuge was pointless, so I nodded.
"Christ!" she blurted and tossed the magazine away.
"I'm here to make sure your chastity belt is well oiled."
She barked out a harsh laugh. "If he had one, I'm sure he'd have used it. It's not like his record is..." She bit off what she'd been about to say.
"Sorry about your room," she said instead.
"It's OK, I'll sleep on the couch. How are you doing otherwise?"
We chatted for a while about what she could and couldn't do for herself. She could manage a lot of things, but I'd need to cut up her food. And she showed me her special Spork, with a thick foam handle to grip with her last two fingers.
Around 2pm I offered to make us sandwiches, and she sighed and got her pills from her room. Tossing me the bottle and asked for two and a glass of water. Opening the bottle, I shook two out.
"Christ, these things are huge." I said. "Are you sure they aren't suppositories?"
Lilly looked aghast and snatched the bottle. Holding it between her two palms and scanning the label. Then burst out laughing.
"Only joking."
"I'm surprised you can swallow them," I said incautiously.
"You'd be surprised what I can get down my throat." She gave me a cheeky wink. "But I'll need half a glass of water to wash them down. Pop the pills on my tongue and pour the water in quickly."
I managed to splash some water on her face and blouse. But she swallowed them way more easily than I could.
"Now we're on the clock. They kick in fast. I think that's why the pills are so big. The 'side effects' make me feel high, then giggly and..." she paused, wondering how to phrase it. "Look, we're both grownups and you need to understand. Your dad said you had a kitten as a boy, and your mum didn't want her spayed, until she came into heat that first time.
"Then it was yowling and restless. I feel like that. Unfortunately, when I was a little younger than you, my boyfriend was a low-level pot dealer. So, pot and sex are conjoined in my head. I warn you; I'm probably going to get super crabby as the frustration escalates."
"But I'll try to keep out of your way. I'll go to my room, but don't let me sleep past 6 pm. Otherwise I'll not sleep tonight."
"Do the side effects go away completely?"
"No, but when my head clears, I should be able to restrain myself."
She had a sad look on her face, as she shut her door, and I felt bad for her. Having to cloister herself away, like she was a leper, just because of a pill. A wave of irritation hit me, that my dad was so unfeeling about this. His wife needed him, and he wasn't there. Thinking about work was more important than the woman he claimed to love.
Scratching the back of my head, I wondered what to do. At home, and at a loose end, I might put some porn on my laptop or phone. But not a good idea now. Then I remembered an old gaming console that we'd boxed up in the garage, when I'd moved out. Knowing dad, it would still be there.
Playing old games was kinda fun, but it dragged up old memories of mum, before dad fucked up. Around 4 pm I checked what was in the fridge and decided on a chicken curry, with poppadoms and mango chutney. Making the sauce from scratch was time consuming, but not difficult.
Mum was a great cook and when I was small, she taught me to make cakes and biscuits [cookies]. As I got older, I extended into full meals, and it was a surprise that dad still kept a full spice rack. Probably a remnant from living with mum. From memory, Lilly's talents were not kitchen based. Dad had been like a horny teenager when Lilly moved in.
Chapter 3
"That smells good." Lilly said, and I jumped. Too engrossed in what I was doing, to hear her come from her room.
I looked over to see her dressed in a robe. She looked shattered. Her eyes were puffy and red, as if she'd been crying.
"You look rough." I said without tact. "Sorry."
"It's OK, I know. Unconsciousness is different from proper sleep. And..." she shook her head. "I need a glass of wine."
