This is a short story that has been told before. I had a rough idea for everything, including the ending, then... Evelyn started to spiral and eventually a demon took over. Usually, I stop writing there but this time I let it go, no matter how ridiculous things got. If you don't like it, blame Evelyn. She's the one who let the demon out.
Enjoy,
--M
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Evelyn stood quietly in front of the dryer, staring down at a laundry basket filled with blouses, pants, dresses, and a few other pieces of clothing. She furrowed her brow, digging through the collection of dirty clothes again. There was something missing, two things. In a week's worth of clothes, she only found two bras and one pair of panties. Now, she had worn others. She didn't go for a day without them.
Pulling out her phone, Evelyn shot a message to Greg, her husband, asking if he knew where they might've gone. Maybe he was putting away clothes, and they ended up in his drawer... That thought made her chuckle. Greg, do laundry? Did he even know where she kept the soap?
Evelyn's phone dinged as Greg's message appeared. Tapping it open... Check Mason's room? Why would she need to check their son's room? She shot back another message, asking why. He was quick to respond with 'trust me'. She let out a sigh. It made little sense why they would be in their son's room, but she went to check, anyway.
After several minutes of wading through trash, clothes, and whatever else their nineteen-year-old son had left on the floor, Evelyn found them. Six pairs of panties and five bras shoved between his nightstand and bed. She didn't understand why her son would steal these things... until she looked at them. In the crotch of every panty and splattered across each of her bras was a dry, milky-white substance that she instantly recognized. It was the same thing she spent half an hour cleaning out of her hair the other day.
Picking up her phone, she messaged Greg. 'You knew about this?' Greg was, again, quick to respond and explained that he'd caught Mason a few weeks ago and thought he put a stop to it. Evelyn was furious. Not only was their son jerking off into her underwear, but her husband also knew about it weeks ago. She shot back another message telling him they were going to talk about this later, before she took the undergarments and headed to the laundry room to treat them properly.
It explained why they had been looking more worn than usual. She thought it had something to do with a new detergent she had tried... But that was months ago, not weeks. Which meant this was going on for a while. They both had some explaining to do when they got home.
Evelyn spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning every inch of her son's bedroom, finding a few more pairs of panties that she'd lost, and a small box filled with photos of her. Some were the ones they'd taken on trips to the beach, where she was usually in some kind of bikini, but it was the few at the bottom that made her angry. These weren't photos that Mason could've found going through family albums. They were photos that only Greg knew about, because she took them when they were dating, and he had to leave because of a work thing for a few months. They were topless photos of her that were clearly given to her son by her husband.
When the front door to the house creaked open, because Greg still hadn't pulled the hinges, Evelyn had parked herself at the dining table. Mason's look of relief that classes had finished was quickly replaced with terror at the sight of a small box sitting in front of Evelyn.
"We need to talk," Evelyn said, motioning to the chair on the other side of the table. "Take a seat."
"I can explain," Mason said, moving swiftly across the living room to the table. By the time he sat down, he hadn't explained.
"I'm waiting," Evelyn said, fingers tapping against the box.
"Well..." He didn't have an explanation, at least not one he wanted to tell his mother.
"This wasn't the only thing I found," she said, watching her son's eyes do everything but look at her. "I found a whole drawer worth of my underwear, some of which I thought were eaten by those stupid machines. Did you know we've been talking about replacing them because of this?"
He shook his head. She was going to let him stew. In general, Mason was a good kid. He got good grades; he played multiple sports throughout high school, and he caused no problems at home. So, making him sit there as she watched him struggle with being in trouble was simultaneously satisfying and heartbreaking. If she was honest, she didn't care about the underwear. She understood that he'd never had a girlfriend, and he certainly would not walk into a store to buy some. It was the photos...
"Why?" Evelyn finally asked, breaking the dead silence in the room. It was the only question she cared about.
"I..." He clearly struggled to find the words.
"You are in trouble," she said, knowing what was going through his head. "But keeping things from me, especially now, is only going to make things worse."
"I... I was u... using them," he said, his voice growing quieter with each syllable.
"I saw that," she said. "Why?"
"They..." He didn't want to say it. She could see that, but she needed him to. "They... help... me."
"Help?" she asked, feigning ignorance. "Help how?"
"I..." He was clearly struggling, and Evelyn knew they would not get there anytime soon and Greg was due home any minute.
"Do they excite you?" She asked, done dancing around it. Mason only nodded, so she pushed. "Does seeing your mother naked and feeling her used underwear turn you on?"
Again, Mason only nodded.
"I need you to say it." Evelyn's heart was racing as the anger, mostly about this happening behind her back, was coming out.
"I... I'm... I'm t- tur- turned o- on b- b- by m- my mmmom," Mason stammered, his whole body shaking.
"Go to your room," she snapped, causing him to flinch. "You'll stay in there until dinner."
Mason couldn't move from his seat; he could barely take his eyes off the table. She wondered if she was being too harsh. He wasn't hurting anyone. But it didn't matter. He did something he shouldn't and needed to face some consequences.
"Go!" she snapped again, thinking that her son should be grateful. The conversation with his father would not be so forgiving.
She sat at the kitchen table, staring at the front door for over twenty minutes. When Greg finally stepped inside, she couldn't believe why he was running late. He was carrying a box full of chocolates and a fist full of flowers, like it was Valentine's Day or something. That would not make this any better for him; if anything, it was going to have the opposite effect.
"Hey," Greg said, his big medical sales smile painted on his face. Evelyn didn't budge. She just sat there, staring.
"I got you some flowers." He sat them on the table, like she was some kind of cobra waiting to strike. "And some--"
"What were you thinking?" she said, making the last-minute decision not to scream, even though every fiber inside her wanted to.
"I... ummm..." he sstammered. She made the right call. The lack of angry screams had thrown him off. "Well... y... you see..."
Like father, like son... she guessed.
"Sit down," she said, starting to enjoy the fear in his eyes. "Please."
With much hesitation, Greg pulled back the chair opposite her and slid into it.
"Where would you like to start?" she asked, tapping on the box. "Here? Or maybe the underwear?"
He shifted in his seat, unable to look her in the eyes. It didn't seem like he knew what was in the box, but he certainly had a suspicion.
"Look at me," she commanded softly.
"I caught him a few weeks ago, doing laundry." That right there would've set her alarms off, too.
Neither of her boys did laundry, and she didn't think Mason even knew how. It's difficult to teach one when the other expects you to just do it. But she had a hard time saying no to her husband. He worked a lot, which allowed her to stay home and raise their son. There was also a... forcefulness about him that really turned her on, but obviously it wasn't something he possessed when he was clearly in the wrong.
"He fessed up that he was using them to... ummm..."
"Masturbate with?" she finished for him.
"Yeah," he said, his gaze flicking down at the box. "He promised he would not do it again, so I thought it was handled."
"Okay," she said, still watching his every move. Just like their son, he couldn't meet her gaze. "I don't like that it was hidden from me, but I understand, and neither of you are in trouble for it."
