Struggles of Psycho

by Rhyam O'Bryam

  ‘“I would.”

  ‘“Would you cut Uncle’s throat in the night for me?”

  ‘“Of course.”

  ‘Deirdre gasped. “Oh, stop this! Please. This is horrible.”

  ‘Now I was at the couch and I stroked the back of my hand along the side of Deirdre’s head. She allowed this, with a pathetic, grateful expression in fact. “Dee. I’m sorry to ask you to leave. You don’t seem to be so bad as my uncle. You should find someone else. But you do have to go tomorrow.” I leaned down so she couldn’t but look closely into my eyes. “Or Mike will cut your throat, too.”

  ‘Immediately, Deirdre pulled back from my touch, horrified.

  ‘“She’s bluffing. Don’t mind her, Dee.” Uncle reached for me with a sudden lurch and I had to skip to avoid his grasping hand. I stood beside Mike, heart beating fast. This was working but it was risky and I had to be careful not to bring about a full-on battle. Mike would not be much use if my uncle decided to turn physical. And what would Ruben and Dee do if it came to blows?

  ‘“Stick around then,” I said. “But don’t forget to lock your bedroom door. And do be careful. A farm can be a dangerous place.”

  ‘Deirdre stood up. “I’m calling a taxi. I can’t live in an atmosphere like this.”

  ‘“No, Dee!” My uncle’s voice was desperate now and he didn’t care to conceal it. “Stay. Don’t let her win. She’s just trying to bully you.”

  ‘With a look over at Mike, Deirdre shook her head. “It’s no good. This is just too horrible. You are a bully, Amy, and I don’t know how you can make such threats to your only family member. But…” and she stood up, appealing to my uncle, “I won’t feel safe here. I won’t enjoy it. There will be no fun.”

  ‘As Deirdre left the room I studied my uncle. What way would he go? If he came for me, I was ready to the extent that I had a six-inch kitchen knife ready. My hand was in my coat pocket, which had been cut, so that I could reach through and grasp the handle of the blade I’d picked up in Wexford.

  ‘While the four of us stood watching one another in the living room, we could hear the faint voice of Deirdre on the phone outside. She wanted a taxi right away. Ruben stood up and muttering something about sharing the cab, brushed past Mike and out of the room.

  ‘“Rats and sinking ships, eh?” sneered my uncle. “Well, you don’t push me around so easily. I’m not going anywhere.” He walked to the patio door. “Do you know how easy it would be for me to get a shovel and break your limbs? Then stand on your throats. So don’t be threatening me with knives. You wouldn’t get near me.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘That night, when Mike and I went to the room I was using, I carefully locked the door and for good measure we got hold of a heavy chest-of-drawers and manoeuvred it to block the door from opening. Then I rewarded Mike and at the same time, thought I’d try to disturb my uncle. He was on his own, now his friends had fled, in the room next to mine.

  ‘It had been a long day for Mike but he’d done surprisingly well. So I told him to strip and fuck me from behind. I was up on all fours…’

  At this point McCarthy looked at me with a frown and drew breath. But I shook my head a fraction. If Amy Philips had a weakness, it was that she obviously enjoyed describing sex scenes and doing her best to make us feel uncomfortable. If we let her, there was a chance she would lose the run of herself and reveal something important.

  If she noticed the silent communication between me and my partner, Amy Philips didn’t react, continuing with enthusiasm. ‘I had stepped out of my panties and throwing up my skirt, said, “Come on. But make it last. Don’t finish too soon.”

  ‘The poor boy was so eager. He probably thought that I wanted him for my own pleasure, but I had another idea. It took a while, but by adjusting my hands on the bed’s wooden headboard I managed to get a good solid knock against the wall each time Mike thrust into me. Bang. Bang. Bang. It was my uncle’s bedroom we were thumping up against and he couldn’t fail to hear us.

  ‘“Harder and faster!” I urged him. So Mike grabbed my hips and did his best. You’ll remember, Superintendent, that these were the years before AIDS, so there was no need for protection. Just the Pill.

  ‘Bang! Bang! Bang! We were really rocking the bed against the wall.

  ‘“Oh yes!” I shouted loudly. “Oh yes! Oh yes! Fuck my arse! Imagine you are fucking Simon in the arse! That’s it, give it to Simon!”

  ‘Then Mike stopped and withdrew. A moment later I could feel the head of his cock pressing against my anus.

  ‘“What are you doing?” I hissed back over my shoulder. He looked alarmed.

  ‘“What you want me to do?”

  ‘“You idiot. That’s just me winding up my uncle. Now get back to fucking me properly.”

  ‘Bang! Bang! Bang! We were at it again, Mike maybe a little softer inside me. But it didn’t matter, I was thrusting with my arms to match our rocking motion, to make sure the knocking on my uncle’s wall was as loud as it could possibly be.

  ‘“That’s it. Ride my uncle! Stick it in his big, fat arse! Fuck him hard!”

  ‘With a terrifying crack, the wooden panel around the door shattered inward. My uncle was outside, roaring. “I’m going to kill you. You’re fucking dead!”

  ‘Mike leapt off me as though electrocuted, cock instantly shrinking. Another massive blow shocked the door, the frame and the chest-of-drawers, some splinters came in and my uncle stuck a red face into the broken panel. He looked like Jack Nicholson in that poster for The Shining, although I didn’t think that at the time, because this was before the film.

  ‘“You fucking slut. Pervert. Fucker. I’m going to kill you right now.”

  ‘“Mike,” I said calmly, “lean against the barricade.” I got up and went to my coat, where I withdrew the knife from the pocket. The next kick against the door didn’t do half as much damage, it made a big difference with even a thin youth like Mike pushing back against him.

  ‘“Uncle, dear. Stop making a fool of yourself. You aren’t getting in here. And even if you did, you aren’t killing anyone. What’s the point of inheriting the farm if you have to serve life in prison?”

  ‘The door shuddered again and my uncle shouted, “Fuck you!” But his heart was no longer in the game.

  ‘“I’ll cut you a deal. You can have the rents until their term expires if you clear out tomorrow.”

  ‘Silence.

  ‘Then his footsteps walking away.

  ‘“What a great day,” I whispered triumphantly, to a pale and shaken Mike. “We routed them all.” I sat on the edge of the bed and, pulling up my skirt, opened my legs. Victory felt warm and arousing. “Let’s see if you remember what I taught you. Kneel here and finish me off with your mouth.”

  ‘With Mike sucking and licking with tolerable competence, I lay back, letting the pleasant sensations grow, thinking of how good it had felt to hear the slam of the taxi boot after Ruben and Deirdre had given their cases to the driver. As I heard the creak of my uncle’s bed on the other side of the door, I orgasmed, not too loudly. I no longer wanted to provoke him.

  ‘The following morning I woke to the scent of frying bacon and the sounds of my uncle in the kitchen. Even so, we were very cautious when, after dressing, we moved the chest-of-drawers aside and carefully looked out of my room.

  ‘“Is it safe?” asked Mike.

  ‘“Of course,” I answered, but I wasn’t entirely sure. This was a fresh day and the blue skies I could see through the windows seemed to dissipate the intense, murderous darkness of the previous night. But I did not take any chances. Hand on knife through the lining of my pocket, I urged Mike on ahead of me, until we could see my uncle in the kitchen. Wearing pyjamas and a dressing gown, he was eating his breakfast and reading the newspaper, with the radio on in the background.

  ‘“You can come in, I’m not going to hurt you.” He barely glanced up.

  ‘I pushed Mike through and then followed once it was clear th
at nothing was going to happen. “Well, dearest Uncle, are we back on good terms? Has the Shakespearean tragedy of our relationship come to an end?”

  ‘“You can have the farm.” He stabbed a sausage and held it up on his fork. “But I’m keeping the rents for ten years.” After taking a large bite out of the sausage, my uncle chewed it vigorously.

  ‘“All right.” I was playing the long game. And truth be told, still a bit shaken from the intensity of the battle of the previous night. It also occurred to me that this verbal agreement would be worth nothing to my uncle should I decide to obtain the rents, which is what happened after only two years.

  ‘Having won, I really didn’t have anything more to say to my uncle. Nor did I want to risk him changing his mind with a new altercation. So I took Mike by the elbow and led him away and up to my room.

  ‘“Now you have to phone Ivy and ask her to come.”

  ‘Mike shook his head. “She won’t.”

  ‘“Why not?”

  ‘“She’s afraid of you. She thinks there’s something wrong with you. I…”

  ‘“What?”

  ‘“She begged me not to come here. To stay away from you.”

  ‘I found that my legs felt weak and I had to sit down on the edge of my bed. Of course, I must not trust anyone. But I had thought that Ivy… Well, despite myself, I was in love with Ivy. And it hurt that she was so far out of my grasp. Yet I had the farm and I had Mike. There had to be a way of getting Ivy too.

  ‘That afternoon, with my uncle finally gone, I showed Mike around the farm buildings. When we got to an old stable, I told him my plan. I was going to lock him in there with a padlock and every day we would send a Polaroid of Mike to Ivy. If she came, I’d release him. If she didn’t, he’d starve to death. Slowly, because I wanted to give Ivy the maximum opportunity to arrive.’

  McCarthy looked up, her face cold and hard. ‘So, just to be clear, you planned to lock up Michael Patterson and starve him to death? You planned to kill him, thirty years before you actually did kill him?’

  ‘No, Sergeant, you haven’t listened carefully enough. I had no intention of killing Mike. This was a plan that we both entered into as the only way of getting Ivy to Wexford.’

  ‘Why would he agree to it?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s a good question, Superintendent.’ Amy Philips looked at me directly, with a triumphant smile. ‘Because I promised him a blowjob every day.’

  ‘Dear God,’ muttered McCarthy and followed this with a deep breath.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ‘The stable smelled of mould, damp and horse urine, even though it was years since a horse last stood there. It was clean enough, in the sense that the wooden planks of the floor had been scrubbed with bleach some time ago. We just had to move out some old garden tools and it was useable.

  ‘As he carried the mattress from what had been Deirdre’s bed over to the stable, Mike turned to me. “Why are we doing this, Amy? Why don’t we just pretend I’m here? She’ll never know.”

  ‘“For two reasons. Firstly, you won’t be able to starve yourself. Have you ever been hungry? Really hungry?”

  ‘“No. But…”

  ‘“You won’t be able to do it. Not someone as weak-willed as you. You’ll find times when you sneak off and stuff yourself and we’ll never get the authentic look of starvation. Secondly, I think it’s good for our relationship.”

  ‘“Our relationship?”

  ‘“You are a submissive and I’m a dominant. This is perfect. Perfect submission on your part. Enjoy it. Not many men get to live out their fantasy of being the slave of their mistress. Here you are in Ireland in a prison. It’s ideal. When we were in the UK we couldn’t act it out this much, could we?”

  ‘“Are you my mistress then?”

  ‘“Of course I am.”

  ‘“Do you love me, Amy? Because I love you and I’ll do anything for you. You know that?”

  ‘“Yes. I love you, my slave. Let me show you.” Now, the truth was that I found his presence annoying and I would much rather have the house to myself while keeping him trapped out here. But to get to Ivy I had to control him completely and that meant certain sacrifices on my part.

  ‘There were several old peg-boards around the stable, for hanging tack. I tied his wrists to these, wide apart, at about head height. Then I pulled down his trousers and Y-fronts. Needless to say, his cock was hard and it sprang out, bouncing in the air. With his clothes around his ankles and his arms splayed, Mike looked quite pathetic. Still, his eyes were feverish. I grasped his cock firmly, as though I was going to milk a cow.

  ‘“Now don’t say a word or I will stop. Understand?”

  ‘He nodded.

  ‘“When you are close to cumming, I’m going to raise my left hand like this.” I demonstrated. “You are only allowed to cum when I drop it. Understand?”

  Mike nodded again and his body gave a convulsive shiver, more from excitement than cold.

  ‘“If you fail, then you forfeit your blowjob tomorrow.” I knelt down and took just the head of his cock into my mouth. He groaned, but I didn’t punish him for that. Instead, I quickly and efficiently worked him off. I wasn’t too comfortable, squatting in the cold stable, so I wanted this done with. I looked at him and caught his eye. Then paused.

  ‘“Nod, if you want to see my breasts.”

  ‘Needless to say, he nodded. Thirty years ago, I had a decent bust. With one hand on his cock still, squeezing, I undid my jacket and blouse with the other, all the time watching Mike’s response. I lifted my right breast out over the cup, then the left. He was turning red and sometimes looking away, shivers running through his whole body.

  ‘I raised my left hand, the signal that he must not cum. But I’m sorry to say I cheated, leaning forward so that as I masturbated him, his cock kept hitting the soft skin of my cleavage. The orgasm that shook him hard was a victory of sorts for me, because it spared me any such work the following day.

  ‘Mike might have thought it worth it though, as he came more intensely than I had previously seen. There must have been nine or ten really long jets of hot cum splash from him. The first ones hit my breasts and clothes, which annoyed me a little. The rest I aimed across the floor.

  ‘While he slumped against the wall, I left him tied up and went to change my blouse and put on a cardigan. Then I found my camera and walked back to the stables. It was a pleasant feeling, crossing the courtyard and feeling that I owned it, that I properly owned it.

  ‘Back in the stables I had to tell Mike to stop smiling and then I took a picture of him tied up with his pants down, cock small and flaccid. As I untied him, I reminded him of our plan and…’ Philips’s gaze focused on McCarthy, who stared back at her. ‘I got him to agree once more.

  ‘That afternoon I wrote a letter to Ivy. In it, I placed the Polaroid of her brother and of the outside of the stables, showing the grille through which I could look at my prisoner and the sturdy padlock. There was no way out for him unless – as I sometimes did for toilet purposes – I let him.

  ‘The letter ran something like this.

  ‘“Dear Ivy, Mike has explained that you are reluctant to visit us. I’m very sorry to hear this. In fact, heartbroken. I thought that we had a special relationship, one that you would want to pursue now that we are both free to do so. Well, there are events in our past that I’d like to remind you of, so that you will believe me if I say that Mike’s life is in danger and will be in danger until you arrive here.

  ‘“As I write this letter, Mike is in the stables across the yard, behind a locked door. There he will remain on a minimal diet, until you come here. Then I will release him. He has all the water he wants, but very little food. This gives you a month and a half, maybe two, to come to my farm. I wouldn’t leave it too late though, because there are long-term consequences of starvation that can be unpleasant.

  ‘“If you reply with the promise that you are on your way, I shall release him right away.

&nbs
p; ‘“Yours lovingly, Amy Philips.”

  ‘I wonder, Superintendent, whether you know what happened next?’ Amy Philips leaned back and if I were getting to know her at all, I would have said that she was genuinely appraising me.

  I shook my head.

  ‘One week later, that overweight, unhelpful garda from the Wexford station drove into my yard with a young recruit straight out of Templemore in the passenger seat and a copy of my letter to Ivy.

  ‘I suppose she must have agonized over what to do for two or three days, then gone to the police. I have to say I was disappointed. They got out of the car and looked very serious.

  ‘“Amy Philips?”

  ‘“Yes?”

  ‘“Did you send this letter to Ivy Patterson?”

  ‘“I did.”

  ‘“And is it true?”

  ‘“Yes.”

  ‘“Then you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Michael Patterson.”

  ‘“You might want to reconsider that, Sergeant, after talking to Mike. He isn’t being detained against his will.”

  ‘“Is that right?” The senior garda had an accent that one might describe as culchie. It was thick and southern. If he hadn’t have joined the police, he’d have been a tractor fanatic. “Where is he, then?”

  ‘“This way.” I walked across to the stables and they followed close behind, the young one almost treading on my heels. Ready to catch me if I bolted, I suppose.

  ‘While I fished out the key for the large padlock, I caught them exchanging a look, in which the Sergeant seemed to be saying, now pay attention, something’s up here.

  ‘“Mike, pay attention, we have visitors.”

  ‘Turning his blinking eyes towards us, Mike looked puzzled. “Who is it?” This was only a week into our plan and he didn’t look too bad. Thin, of course. But I’d let him shave and he had a lot of clothes on. I didn’t want him getting pneumonia and bringing this to a quick end. The smell, though, was getting bad. He had a bucket for urine and that didn’t help.