Crawl

I consider myself lucky to have had the help of three great Literotica author/editors on this story. Many thanks to HMAuthor for first editing and improving everything. Grateful thanks to the erudite Ginger_Scent, who writes stories in both English and Italian, for pointing out additional embarrassing mistakes and weak parts, suggesting better words and phrases and helping make the story better in countless ways. And awe-filled thanks to Alix, who was only supposed to check for remaining errors and polish the story but called attention to a few major flaws and offered even more excellent word choices.

"Are you calling me an alcoholic?" asked Jess.

"Are you even listening to me?" Charlene asked back. "I'm calling you an immature, clueless jerk who refuses to grow up. Yes, I know you never drink on workdays. But when I'm not with you and nagging you constantly, you just don't know when to stop. What's wrong with you?"

"I'm working on it," Jess said.

"Not very hard," Charlene shot back. "It's pure luck that you haven't been caught for DUI yet or killed somebody when you drive home. Last night, you barely made it to bed before you passed out. It's disgusting waking up next to a stinking distillery."

"I'm sorry, Charlene. I promise you that I'm going to stop."

"Your promises aren't worth the paper they're not written on. Have you made an appointment yet?"

"No, not yet.

"What are you waiting for?"

"I can fix this myself. I don't need a shrink."

Her voice showed her exasperation.

"I'm getting tired of waiting for you, Jess. It's partly my fault because I'm enabling you. I put up with it in college, but I thought you'd grow out of it. As much as I love you, I'm not going to marry you as long as you keep binging, and I'm not going to wait much longer. I wish I had a magic pill that would make you stop, but even if I did, you probably wouldn't take it."

"Yes, I would," he said in a subdued voice, looking down at the kitchen table.

"That's what you say now. I've been thinking about what kind of medicine would cure you. Tell me, honestly, if I could find a pill like that and put it on the table in front of you right now, would you take it?"

"Of course," he said. "But that's just a fantasy."

"Okay," she said. "Let's take the fantasy one step further. Imagine the pill tastes horribly, and the side effects are scary and disgusting. But after that, you'll never get drunk again."

"Uh...."

"That's what I thought. You talk big now, but you wouldn't take it."

She paused and then shouted.

"Would you?"

"Yes, I would!" he shouted back. "Stop it! Your crazy fantasy isn't going to solve anything."

"I don't want to stop yet, because I have another question."

"What is it?"

"First, I have to tell you something. I love you."

"And I love you."

"The only reason for this conversation is I love you so much that I don't want you to be hurt or killed."

"I love you that much, too. I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?"

"You're going in a circle. I told you I'm going to stop."

"That's not where I was going. Forget the argument about whether you'll stop by yourself with no help. Do you really love me enough that you'd do anything else for me?"

"Yes."

"We'll see. This is my last question: Do I have your permission to force my magic pill down your throat?"

"You wouldn't have to. I told you I would take it."

"I'm warning you again. What if the pill is so strong that it wipes you out for a while? Do I have permission to force it down your throat?"

He laughed.

"You sure have some imagination, Charlene."

"Are you going to answer my question?"

He thought for a moment before he replied.

"I'm trying to imagine we're talking about a real situation. Even if I give you permission right now to force me to swallow it, you couldn't do it unless I went along. You're a lot smaller than me. You'd need a few big guys to hold me down. Is that what you'd do?"

"No," she answered. "No big guys. Just me."

"Then how would you do it?"

"What if you were so drunk, you were helpless? I could force you to swallow that pill."

"I don't know about that. Even then, I'm not sure you could do it."

He lifted his head and looked at Charlene. She was looking at him with daggers in her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice was scary.

"Let's stop talking about whether I could do it or not. You never answered my question. If there was some kind of medicine that would cure your binge drinking with one dose, do I have your permission to force you to take it? Yes or no?"

"What difference does it make? There is no medicine like that."

"Yes or no? I want an answer. Maybe your answer is also the answer to another question: Is our relationship important enough to continue? So, what is it, yes or no?"

"In that case, I guess it has to be yes."

"That's not good enough," she said. "I want it simple and clear. Wait. Let me get some paper and a pen. I'm going to write down your two options, and then I want you to read the one you choose out loud to me."

When she had finished writing, she passed the paper across the table to him. He looked at her. The steely, determined look in her eyes told him he better not mess around.

He read his answer from the paper.

"Yes, I give you permission to force me to take the medicine that will cure my binge drinking. There, are you satisfied?"

"Not yet," she said. "I want you to cross out the other choice on the paper and sign your name below what you just read. Good. Now give me the paper."

"You know this isn't legal," he said. "There are no witnesses or anything."

"Yes, there are, you and me. We both know you agreed. When you get behind the wheel while you're drunk, you're not legal either. This piece of paper is enough for me.

"So you understand, here's how it will work. If you start going to a therapist or AA meetings or you do anything to stop what you're doing, your agreement won't be necessary. But if you ever come home again like you were last night, I'm not going to rest until I find7 something to cure you. You may not like it, but you're going to take it.

"I know you think I'm being silly, but the fact that you signed this paper means a lot to me. It tells me you're committed to the two of us. I'm going to be just as committed. I promise you I will never give up on you, Jess. My love for you will give me the strength. If I have to force you to swallow the medicine, I might drive you away. But I will never leave you unless you tell me to."

"That will never happen," he said. "That's a promise. And I'll never leave you, either."

**************

The conversation convinced Jess he had better do something. But as much as he hated to talk about his problem to Charlene, he hated to talk to anyone else about it even more. So he worked on it by himself. Charlene asked him about what he was doing a couple times, but after he told her he was handling it, she stopped asking and began giving him positive feedback. As the weeks went by, she continued to compliment and encourage him.

A couple of college buddies happened to have business trips that brought them to town at the same time, and they decided to stay over and get together Saturday night. Neither of them had their wives with them, Jess told Charlene.

"Do you need me to go with you?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "I'll handle it."

But he didn't. He realized later that he shouldn't have let them talk him into going to the hot singles bar so they could ogle the women. The music was loud, and they had to shout at each other. He found himself losing track of how many drinks he had. He couldn't remember driving home, but when he got into the house from the garage, his mind was focused on one thing: not waking Charlene when he went to bed.

After bumping into a few things and making noise, he decided it would be safer not to walk. So he got down on the floor and began to crawl. He put all his efforts into crawling slowly up the stairs without making a sound. He was so intoxicated that the effort exhausted him.

As he crawled down the soft, thick carpet in the hallway that led to their bedroom, he was blinking his eyes to stay awake, but it was getting harder and harder. Finally, just outside the open bedroom door, he put his head on the carpet and passed out.

That's where he woke up the next morning. He was still wearing his clothes from the night before. He saw the bedroom was empty and the bed was made, so he took a shower, brushed his teeth, put on some clothes and went downstairs. Charlene was in the kitchen.

"I made you a sandwich to eat while you're watching the football games," she said. "I've got to go out and run some errands."

"I'm sorry," he said finally. "It won't happen again."

She looked at him, but she didn't respond. He tried to figure out what she was thinking. Did she believe him? Did he believe himself? Why didn't she say something? Jess was scared.

After gazing at him a minute, she said, "I'll be back in time for us to go out for dinner."

She turned and left.

********************

Charlene didn't say anything about that night until some time later. It was a remark that came out of the blue when they were having dinner at an expensive restaurant to celebrate his birthday. He had skipped the cocktail and had ordered only two glasses of wine, when she asked him the question.

"When you came home drunk a couple of weeks ago, were you crawling on the floor?" she asked.

"What?"

It took him a few seconds to remember and understand what she was asking.

"Uh, yes. I didn't want to wake you up, and I thought it would be quieter for me to crawl to bed. But I guess I never made it. I don't remember much about that night."

"Thanks," she said. "You answered my question."

She changed the subject, and he was afraid to tell her how sorry he was.

He hadn't been drunk for a few months and was thinking about where to take Charlene to celebrate his accomplishment when he got blindsided. He and Charlene were at a hockey game in his company's box. He had one martini, and her look told him he wouldn't be drinking another one. Two other company wives were there with their husbands, along with three executive assistants and two of their boyfriends.

At the start of the second period, the wives announced they were leaving to go to a nearby mall, and if they didn't return, the men should carpool home.

"Should I drive," Charlene asked him, "and you can get a ride home?" She looked at him, and he knew why she was asking the question.

"No, I'm fine," he said.

After the wives left, the other husbands ordered more drinks, and they began getting frisky with the assistants. The two boyfriends didn't seem to care because they saw that their girlfriends were getting horny and figured they'd be the beneficiaries later. As the booze flowed, the assistant who came stag latched onto Jess as her temporary date.

She began flirting and touching him. He tried to push her away, but when she saw that she had made his pants rise, she kept after him. She told him a couple of times that it wasn't fair that he wasn't doing shots with her. He decided to have one, and then the walls came down.

He didn't remember much afterwards, but he recalled entwining with her in the back of the company box while the others were in the window seats. Their hands were all over each other, and he was sure everyone heard her loud orgasm as he fingered her. She wouldn't be satisfied until her hand job made him come on his pants. It was a good thing the pants were dark. He went down the hall to the john and washed himself off, then had trouble finding the box again. She wanted him to take her home, but he made sure she got a ride with one of the others.

Once again, he had no idea how he got home, but he remembered being scared when he staggered in from the garage. And after a few bumps, he again dropped to his hands and knees and began crawling. He tried to concentrate with all his might, but he was so tired and drunk that even the first stair was too much for him. He fell into a heap in front of the staircase and hit his head on one of the steps. Before he fell asleep, he saw a light go on upstairs.

When he woke, it was light, and everything seemed strange. He was lying on his stomach on some kind of plastic sheet, and he was naked. All around him were heavy ropes. They weren't tied to him, but he could feel them touching his body.

A moment later, he realized what had woken him. It was something being inserted into his ass. He tried to move away from whatever it was, and that's when he realized his hands were trapped in something that was wrapped around both wrists.

He was able to scoot forward, and the thing in his ass came out, but when he tried to stand up, he couldn't get further than a squat before being stopped by the heavy ropes. They were like a cage and kept him from getting up. They were loosely woven together, and he could have pulled them apart and gotten out, but whatever was around his wrists prevented him from doing that.

He squatted for a while, and when that became tiring, he dropped to his hands and knees. Then he heard Charlene's voice behind him.

"Stay like that, Jess," she said.

He moved so he could see her. The rope net allowed him to move, but not enough to turn around. When he twisted his body, he saw her behind him. She was inside the ropes too and also naked.

"What's going on, Charlene?" he asked. "What did you put on my wrists?"

"Those are restraints," she said. "They're like handcuffs, but they won't bruise you. You're busted and in my custody. Just thank your lucky stars that I put the cuffs on before the police did. You're not going to prison."

"Okay, Charlene," he said. "I get it. Now let me out of here."

"Not yet," she said. "First say hello to Irene. Look to your left. She's the one kneeling on the floor with the video camera. She's going to be filming you taking your medicine this morning. See this can of Crisco outside the ropes? I was stuffing it into your ass, and she was filming, waiting for you to wake up. I got nearly a third of the can inside you before you finally came to life.

"What the hell! What are you doing?"

"Let me explain," she said. As she spoke, she sounded like a teacher telling first graders why they had to put on their rubber boots before they went out in the rain.

"When I woke up and saw you passed out in the hallway upstairs a few months ago, I realized that you weren't going to be able to cure your drinking problem by yourself. Even when you held out for months, you always had a relapse. So I started working on your medicine.

"I worked hard to get this ready, and I finished last week. I didn't think the right time to do it would come so soon, but I knew that I'd have to give you this medicine eventually. By the way, did you know you had come stains on your pants?"

"I am so ashamed of that, Charlene," he said. "Will you ever forgive me? Are you going to leave me?"

"I told you before that I'll never leave you unless you tell me to go. You better see a doctor this week to check for STDs if you didn't use a rubber."

"It wasn't like that. She just used her hands."

"Good. Anyway, you're forgiven, because cheating is not your problem. Alcohol is. Whatever you did, I know you wouldn't have done it if you hadn't been drunk."

"That's right," he said, "and you know what, Charlene, I'm going to call a therapist the first thing tomorrow morning. You were right. I need counseling to get through this. My pride is gone. I admit you're right, and I'm going to do what you say. Now let me out of here."

"I'm so happy to hear that," Charlene said. "I'm going to help you follow through on what you just told me, and I know you keep your promises. My cure is going to speed up the process. The therapy sessions will be a snap after today."

"No, Charlene," he said. "This is not the way to do it. I'm the one who needs to do this, not you. Now let me out of here."

"Not yet, Jess," she said. "Part of your problem has been that you've insisted on being in charge. You're still doing that, but I'm not listening anymore. Tomorrow, you'll take ownership of your problem, but for today, I'm in charge, and you're going to take your medicine."

"But whatever you've planned, I'm not going along with it," he said. "You're not going to accomplish anything."

"We'll see," she said. "You gave me permission to force you to take the medicine. I have that in writing. It may be hard, but I hope you remember I'm doing this because I love you and I'm committed to you. Otherwise, I would have packed up after last night.

"Now you need to listen to me or else we're going to be here all day. You helped me think up this cure. The first time you came home and crawled, I was shocked. You couldn't even stand up like a man anymore. Your drinking was turning you into a lower species of animal. Some day you might not even be able to crawl. You'd have to move on your belly like a snake. You were like evolution going backwards.

"All these crazy thoughts ended up helping me devise your medicine. Today you're going to crawl like an animal for the last time. Irene will film everything. As you've already found out, my rope tunnel is anchored, so it will give a little, but not enough to let you stand up.

"You can squat, but I'm right behind you, and you won't squat for long, because it's easy for me to give you a little push and topple you forward. With those cuffs keeping your arms in front of you, there's not much you can do except start crawling on your hands and knees. The rope tunnel is in a circle and goes around our living room. Think of it as a horizontal hamster wheel. When you're drunk, your brain shrinks to the size of a hamster's. It's time to start crawling now, so get going, Jess."

"No, I'm not," he said. "I'm tired, and I'm just going to stretch out here under your ropes and rest until you come to your senses."

"I don't think so," she said. "I explained how the crawling was supposed to remind you how low you've sunk. There's another part. This will remind you why you don't want to go to prison for killing someone while driving drunk."

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"I just put a finger into your ass," she said. "It went in easily because of all the Crisco. When you're in prison, you need to be lubed up and ready at all times, because there will be lots of guys who are bigger than you. Do you feel my second finger?"

"Stop it!" he yelled. "That's sick."

"I'm just getting you used to it," she said. "In prison, you better try to keep moving, because two fingers can easily turn into three, like this. If you just keep on lying there, you're going to make it easy for your cellmate.

"Oh, I see you changed your mind, and you're in a hurry now. You've turned into a hamster. Yes, crawl as fast as you can. I'm right behind you. Why are you stopping?"

"You didn't take your fingers out," he said.

"That's right," she said, "just like in prison. The fingers are staying in there, and you can feel how I'm moving them around inside you as well as going in and out. They're sliding through the Crisco. This is much easier than last night, when I had to give you two enemas and a shower while you were dead weight."

"I also had to clean where you threw up. But I wanted you all shiny and sparkling for Irene's video. I think your insides are totally empty now. You're probably hungry. After we're done, I'll fix you a big breakfast."

Jess stopped while she was talking, and now Charlene noticed.

"You need to start moving. Because if you're not crawling, it's easier for me to put fingers in you, like this. Oh, that fourth one really got you going, so I'll have to talk while we crawl.