No. Bed and Breakfast.

I left Reeves Manor to a strange sight. The Pacific Ocean. I wasn't in the Hills, but a bit west of there. I held onto my "crown," and shuffled my way down the long driveway onto the nearest road. Cars were coming and going from the beach. I weakly flagged one down. It was full of college coeds in bikinis, and it stopped for me. Of course.

They shuffled around as I sat down in the backseat. "You said you needed a ride?" "Where to, sir?" "Did you need me to fuck you?" "Look at my tits!"

The questions and provocations hit me hard. Was I taking advantage of them, or they taking advantage of me? I looked at the now topless beachgoer, and decided that home is where he expected me to go. I didn't know what might await, and wanted to have some control over my destiny.

"There's a, uh, bed and breakfast about thirty miles from here, off of Cooke Street. Take me there." I ignored their sexual advances and fell asleep.

They gently woke me when they found the place, which took some time due to outer LA traffic. "Thank you," I said, rubbing my arms weakly before being handed my crown and cardboard. The topless girls replaced their clothes and drove off.

I went to the reception desk to wide eyed stares and hushed whispers of the guests and staff. "I, uh, need to see the Sherwoods." I say to the older man working here.

"Of course, sir. They are in the fourth room from the left on the second floor. And here's a master key to all the rooms. Fuck any of our guests or staff at your leisure." He ended with a fake smile as I juggled with the keycard.

I found the room and had trouble sliding the card at the door. What kind of bed and breakfast has keycards? I tried a couple more times before the door opened. "My liege?" said Jake, still fucking roleplaying as I pushed him aside and found their bed.

I slept for hours and awoke to find Jake and Lisa still nearby, eating some pizza. Lisa was naked and had clearly fucked me in my sleep at least once. Whatever.

"Your grace!" yelled Lisa as she jumped up in delight, her large breasts bouncing as she rushed to my side and hugged me, one hand reaching for my cock. I pushed it away.

She frowned. "We were worried. Why are you here?"

So I told them. I opened up about the whole sordid affair. How Reeves had Janice. How he wanted me to kill some executive. Lisa was hugging me the whole time, my arm around her, her breasts pressed against me. Jake sat with the pizza, tapt with attention to the story.

For context, I explained the details that led up to the wedding. The **** of the pizza girl, Joanie. Meeting Lisa's sister, Mickey. Even earlier, fucking Ji-Yoo upon learning my lifelong sentence as a three-hourer. That was only two days ago, even though it seemed like five months ago after the events of this morning. I was so innocent, worrying about knocking up Ji-Yoo. Luckily, she wasn't involved in this anymore.

"I don't understand," said Jake, giving me and his wife a slice of pizza to share, "why would he think you could kill someone and not get in trouble? I mean, I get you might have to kill people to get off, but that's different."

I sighed. No one seemed to get this except for Charles Reeves and I. It was like a mental block or a fog clouded people's minds. I looked at Lisa's body. She had showered since yesterday, but still had bruises and cuts from the gangbang I had **** on her. My arms had rope burns from this morning. Janice had been **** by that monster, but was I any better.

He fucked his daughter to make some sick point, but I had fucked my sister out of **** for her overachievements. In front of everybody. I **** that pizza girl on a lark. I knowingly impregnated my own mother, Janice, this married woman on my arm, for my own amusement. Was I the bad guy in this story?

I had hatred for Charles Reeves, the incestuous, ****, murderer, but was I any better? In 1950, an EDP serial killer had killed thousands of women over the course of weeks before other EDPs rose up to stop him, and formed the basis of the Compact that surrounded what some call EDP law - the only form of regulation for my disease. Reeves was some other sort of entity, capable of reigning us in. He may be necessary.

But, no. He **** Janice. He was dead. Could I kill? Yes. But I wouldn't be killing Mrs. Jeralds. I would be killing Mr. Reeves.

I quietly came up to this realization, and I solemnly allowed Lisa to fuck me in her marriage bed, as Jake ate pizza and played with his phone. I told him to facetime my mom and Cindy.

"Mom," I said, slowly fucking Lisa with her back towards me and front towards Jake's phone, "Sorry to worry you. I decided to spend the weekend with these two on their honeymoon," I lied. No use involving her and Cindy.

"Oh good," said Mom, sweaty and topless, as Cindy came into frame from below, her mouth covered in juices. Were they fucking each other for real?

"That's odd, though. Janice's dad is here, and said you were at his house fucking his wife and Janice. That's why he wanted us to Facebook Live some fucking for you. Is Janice and Alma with you?"

I was confused. "Where is Janice's dad?" I said, my breath heavy from more than just the exertation. The phone turned around, "Right here, my boy," said Winters, one of Reeves' two goons from this morning, posing as Dr. DiAngelo.

The phone shut off as I came into Lisa again. Shit, I thought, realizing this battle was on multiple fronts.