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From: thedisciplen@yahoo.com (DiscipleN)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 12 Jul 2003 00:14:15 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} I'll be a Mommy's Uncle! [6/6] (Fm,Ff,ff,incest, mom, son, role reversal)
Date: Sat, 12 Jul 2003 01:10:05 -0400
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I'll be a Mommy's Uncle!  (6/6)

by DiscipleN
Copyright (c) 2003, by DiscipleN. All rights reserved.

Multiple codes represent the characters' gender quandaries. Otherwise,
the story is a slow strip tease for incestuous, power transgression
fans.

------


--- 5 ---

There were many days of unease that followed. Mother's little girl and
I fell back into our routine of once a week. Only this time, when my
cock treatened to spout off, I would jack on it and have a great cum.
It was rare that I actually spilled onto my mother's naked skin, but
not for not wanting to. I had to respect my daughter's wishes, and she
really didn't like the nasty stuff hitting her. Still, her incredible
body was the thing that turned me on the most, and the closer she was
the more likely I'd shoot. Sometimes I didn't have a chance to
redirect my load.

Mother, as an adult, never again acted like she had on my twelfth
birthday. She reverted back to being strict and proper. I knew she
wanted more than ever to eradicate the little girl who stole her
Saturdays, especially since her son was now using the event for his
personal sex fun.

One day my daughter and I fell asleep on my bed, and the next morning,
mother woke up beside me. The sound that jostled me out of slumber was
her sobbing.

"We can't go on like this." She perceived me rousing. "I'm going mad.
I know I deserve to be punished, but why do you have to be dragged
into the evil place with me? Why?" She wailed. She hadn't looked at
me.

There was nothing I could say that would have solved anything, but her
words struck me into thinking new thoughts. I'd never thought much
about evil. I called myself that because that is what my actions would
have been called by my religious community, but as a child would, I
simply ignored a word that didn't really mean much to a child. Now I
was at that age were my moral compass would be magnetized, and I had
to ask myself. Was I risking an eternity of hell? Had I danced with
the devil in my mother's naked, and childlike state? What was the one
thing I risked that meant so much to me? To a child, the answer is
obvious, life. To me it was my mother. I knew my life wasn't in
danger, and other than my mischievous sexual shennanigans, I was a
good boy. Compareed to the terrible life my father had given to his
devoted wife, I seemed damn near angelic.

So the next, question had to be, why did my mother think she deserved
to be punished?  She was the most god fearing person on the planet,
and her other personality was as innocent as any child. I was the only
evil in my mother's life. Yeah, evil like a nun with a run in her
stockings. After consulting my vast internal bookshelf of bible
stories, I determined a crock of stinking shit had been shat therein.
Essentially, I was just a horny kid doing whatever it took to get a
taste of tit. There was something very wrong with my mother's
behavior, and I decided then and there to find the problem and fix it,
no matter how things turned out. After all, doesn't 'fixing it' truly
mean things will turn out for the better?

"Mom, I'll help you. I promise." I told her as earnestly as I could.
She started crying harder, and then still harder as I undressed myself
from her clothes and left to take my morning shower.

She wasn't in my room when I returned. I was determined to make things
right, but first I had to find out what really was wrong. I dressed
myself in my sharpest white shirt and trowsers. If only my father was
here, maybe he could have helped me, but I suprised myself by
dismissing the very idea. He was likely, still part of the problem. It
was my first clue.

I could smell bacon cooking. I marched into the kitchen.

"Mother, why did daddy cheat on you?" I asked straight away.

"That's none of your business." She didn't even turn from scrambling
the eggs.

"No it isn't, but I don't want to grow up like father any more. I want
to grow up like you."

Occasionally, lightning can shoot out of a frying pan. Mother jumped
up and nearly hurled the steaming skillet off of the stove. She didn't
speak, but she did yelp.

"I remember how it was, when father was alive. He tried to make me
into anything that wasn't what you wanted me to be. Mother, you have
to tell me. What do you want me to be?"

There it was. Although I only knew it instinctually, my mother had
never faced that question. She'd spent so much of her life trying to
make me not be something, she'd forgotten about the something I should
have been trying to be.

"Do you want me to be your mommy? Of course not, you know I only play
that game because I get off when you're naked."

My mother simply couldn't respond to that. I was overwhealming her
sanctity with crazy talk, the kind she desperately wished she could
escape. It was my great fortune that day, that my mother was something
more than my mother.

I continued. "I don't want to be your mommy. I want to be a daddy
someday and have a real little girl. And I promise I'll never hurt her
or cum on her or put her in a cage six days a week. What kind of
mother or father is that? So tell me mom, what kind of person can I
be?"

Mother began to sputter about doing right by God and keeping mind,
spirit, and body clean, and working hard, and all the same old
horseshit, but for the first time she realized that a lot of it was
crap, just a pile of scratched and dusty records spinning in her head.
She'd forgotten, she was the one who'd set a needle to them long ago.
And the reason she had had to play them was...

"Aaaahhh!!" Mother screamed and threw her arms out at me. "You're a
man! You don't understand!! God, why have I been cursed with them?"

I stepped back as my mother, apparently, began to throw a fit. She
jumped up and down. She screamed at me and screamed at God. She spun
around and began to tear at her clothes. Her face was red and fierce
and she ripped the buttons right off her blouse and tore at her tough
bra.

I nearly jumped to stop her when she picked up an paring knive, but
before I could react, she cut away the straps and flung the bra from
her tits. Mother, naked from the waist up, sank to her knees and
sobbed. She looked up at me.

"You can be anything you want to be, just don't be anything like my
parents."

I felt my own tears churning inside my chest. They threatened to cloud
my vision and pound in my ears. I couldn't stop them. Poor mother had
become a wreck, and it was my fault. After playing with her for so
long, I finally broke her, except she wasn't toy, and I had become
something of an adult.

"Tell me, please mother, what happened?"

I watched her shoulders cringe and her face's sorrow turned into
veiled rage. On her knees, she looked like she was ready to pray but
with righteousness.

"One day, when I was eight years old, my father caught me playing in
the closet with one of my girlfriends. We were playing doctor, but
more than that I was pretending that my girlfriend was my mommy. I
told her that she was a mommy doctor, and my girlfriend said okay, and
she examined every part of me to make sure I was healthy. My daddy
found me on my back with my legs spread open, the other girl was
poking her fingers into my - my cunny, and I think I was having an
orgasm.

"Father yelled at us and frightened my girlfriend away. Then he raped
me. He raped me for almost two months before my mother found out and
sent him to prison. Only my mother was sure that I had seduced him,
and she abandoned me to a foster home. Later I heard that she had been
arrested for prostitution. And after I grew out of foster care, I
never looked for her. That wasn't my mommy. I wanted to believe my
mommy loved her little girl. I told myself, I had the best mommy in
the world until I was raped. I blamed myself.

"Calvin, I know why I do what I do. I'm not sick. I don't lose
control. I don't have multiple personalities. Sometimes I have to
force myself to become your little girl. I do it to punish myself."

"But why mommy, why?" My sniffles and whimpers continued. Maybe I
still was just a boy.

"Because I'm evil, and I hated you."

I could have been shot with a gun. My tears abandoned me and I was
suddenly, terribly concerned for my life. I stepped back.

"But you're my mommy. You have to love me."

"No Calvin, I don't. Not even the Bible says a mother has to love her
son." She could see me backing away, but she didn't get up from her
knees.

"Then, maybe you're not evil." I reached for a child's logic once
more.

"I never wanted to hurt you Calvin, I wanted to ruin your life. I
wanted to turn you into a sexually repressed, walking ghost of a man.
That's why I pretended to be your daughter. That's why I'd take off my
clothes and later shame you for masturbating. I wanted to turn you
into the kind of man I never had to fear."

"It isn't just you, Calvin. You're just a boy. But boy's turn into
men, and the only thing I know about men is their sex hurts."

"Then why did you marry daddy?" I asked, thoroughly horrified.

"I did it to punish myself. You see, there is another reason I fear
and hate men, and I never admitted it to myself, but I now know, and
accept the fact that the only loves in my life were women. That is my
sin. God curse us all." She finished by picking up her ripped blouse
and clutching it to her naked breasts.

I had finally stumbled upon my mother's darkest secret. She was a
lesbian, and she hated being a lesbian more than she hated and feared
men. No wonder she never contradicted father. No wonder she never
complained about his adulteries. That evil paled in comparison to
God's envy of the Moon. She was so ashamed of her sexuality, she felt
she had to follow the man's lead just to ensure herself that she never
crossed the line into immoral sexual perversion. Instead she
transferred her hatred to her son, and promised to turn him into
something she would never have to fear, a wimp.

"You were too strong. You believed in your father, too much. I
couldn't make you hate him, that is not until today. But something
changed for me, Calvin. You did the one thing I never expected."

"What?"

"You were a better mother than my mother ever was." Again, my mother
started to cry. "You're a God damned twelve year old, and you made me
love you more than my mommy!" With that outburst she stood up and held
out her arms. I rushed to her and leaned down to hug her. She kissed
me on my forehead. It was wonderful, but slowly my darker region
asserted itself. Warm blood filled me, and my cock pumped itself full.
It's desire erected me as well, tall above my mother.

"Am I still your mommy?" I asked her.

"Yes, baby." She couldn't look me in the eyes, but I believed her.

"Are you going to keep trying to turn me into a wimp?" I tried to
sound angry.

"No... mommy." Her voice fell quiet and meek.

"Then drop your blouse and let your mother see your tits."

My mother did look into my eyes then, and with full knowlege of my
lust, her clutches opened and the black, rumpled blouse fell to the
kitchen floor. I think smoke began to rise from the skillet. I ignored
the pungent fume of eggs starting to burn. I put my hands on my
mother's breasts and fondled her nipples. They hardened under my
fingertips.

"Take off your skirt for your mommy." I told her softly.

My baby girl blushed anew and put her hands to the black shroud around
her body's altar. She pushed it down, white girdle revealed once more.
The skirt fell to her feet.

"What is that?"

"That's my girdle, mommy."

"Little girls don't wear girdles. I don't want you to wear one ever
again." I was really enjoying the feeling of my mother's firm breasts.
My cock was already eager to be employed in their disgracing.

My daughter sniffed and nodded in wordless agreement.

Like a catterpillar, she wriggled her way slowly out of her white
cocoon. A hairy butterfly emerged, and I found myself suddenly
facinated by the re-appearance of this place on her. It was the place
in me that caused all my desire and delight. What effects did it's
dark clefts and ridges cause for her? I wondered. My cock seemed to
know the answer, for it took over my thinking. I released one of her
tits and reached into my mother's loins to feel the difference.

Her hips turned to shield her thatch, and then she bit her lip.

"You must obey me, now, or God will know your weakness. I need to
teach you." I told her. "I am the only woman you can love that He will
forgive." I was confident that in my tyrannical religion, giving tit
to a son was a far lesser sin than lesbianism. Eight years of bible
school hadn't been totally wasted.

"Yes mommy. I love you mommy." My mother squared her hips and brushed
her cunt hair across my fingers.

I dived slowly into their thicket.

Mother hrunched involuntarily at my touch, but she did not deny me. I
parted her tight curls and fed my middle finger until it tasted slick
flesh.

"What is this place, child?" I asked.

"I-It's my cunny, mommy. I use it to go pee-pee and..." Her voiced
failed.

"And what?" I looked at her closer. Three of my fingers had found her
moist ridges. I did not guess what else could be there. The peeing
concept didn't actually thrill me.

"It's for babies." She whispered.

"What do babies use your pee place for?" I asked, suddenly grossed
out. I knew very well, what babies did with their mommy's titties, but
piss is hardly milk...

"...to - to come out of." My daughter's voice increased.

My boner slackened from disappointment. I knew what the size of my pee
hole was. Dang, babies must be tinsy-weensie when they're born!
Without realizing it, I had lost my initiative over this apparently
disgusting thing between my mother's legs.

"But how do they get in there?" How did I get in there, was my real
question. My fingers seemed to sink a little further into her nest.
Wetness coated them to my middle nuckles.  Yiewww!

My mother's voice turned sour then. She wrinkled her face up real hard
and nearly spit out her answer. "Cocks put them in there."

That is when I realized how long my mother had borne her hatred of my
sex. I backpedaled from my original course.

"Uh, you gotta remember, I promised my cock wouldn't hurt you. Do you
remember?" I was testing treacherous ground. My fingers ceased their
reaching. I was more than a little worried about the origin of the
wetness I'd found. It didn't feel like pee.

"Are you going to put your cock in me?" Mother asked me in her tiniest
voice yet.

"I don't know how to." I admitted.

"Really?" Delight hinted at the edges of her suprise. Then she turned
her sour, worried expression back on. "Are you sure? What about these
fingers? They seem to know something." Her knees glued to the kitchen
linoleum, she looked down between them.

"Honestly," I nearly quailed, falling back into passiveness, "I-I was
just l-looking." I pulled them away from her.

"Oh." She quieted. Her face lifted to mine and assumed a meer puzzled
expression.

Nothing more seemed to be said, so I simply reached for my cock and
began to pull on it. My naked daughter proved she would always be
capable of suprising me.

"You want to cum on my tits, don't you!" And then without any
prompting, she reached for her own breasts and held them up for me.

I jerked on my cock more rapidly.

My daughter leaned closer, her tits aimed right at my pee hole. She
kissed me delicately on my elbow. "Does mommy love me?"

"I love you very much, daughter. I want to cum on you and prove that I
would never hurt you with my cock. My cum isn't hurtful cum. It's
loving cum. You'll feel the difference, I promise." Even at twelve, I
was a pretty good, impromptu horseshitter.

"Oh goody, mommy. I don't want nasty cum. I want your cum."

It was more than I could take and abruptly, I unloaded shot after shot
of hot sperm over my mother's awaiting milk bottles.

"You're right mommy, it is good cum! It feels so warm and soothing,
like lotion on my skin." Mother squealed with apparent, new found joy.

I ran to fetch a cloth and dampened it with warm water. I also turned
off the stove and left the black mess of eggs alone. Returning and
helping her off the floor, I sat her at the table. My daughter watched
me tend to her needs. I was very familiar with cum and thought she
might change her mind as it began to congeal. I wiped it all away with
the cloth. That meant touching and pressing my hands into her tits
while I cleaned up my daughter.

My cock began twitching, first at the base, but enough blood filled it
so that the twitch became all too obvious.

"Gosh mommy, you really like to play with my tits!"

"Um, yeah." I think I blushed.

"If only you didn't have a cock, then maybe we could play with other
things."

My darling daughter's hands were pressed deep into her cunt. The
'innocent' cherub had been frigging herself while I washed her
boobies.

Well, I did have a cock, and I wasn't planning on transforming it for
any of my next lifetimes, let alone this one, but my cock seemed
especially eager to find out about the 'other things' my
mother/daughter had mentioned.

"Gosh honey, I wish I could make my cock as loving as my cum, but I
don't know how."

The little girl, her full figured tits and cunt thatch foremost in my
sight, dragged my attention to her eyes by simply waiting. They once
again had transitioned from darling innocence to knowing adulthood.

"Calvin, love comes from the heart, not the cock." Then her eyes
returned to eden.

"I wish your mommy was as smart as my mommy" I told her.

"You are, mommy, much smarter."

We waited a long time in silence. I was trying to understand what it
was about love that could make a hard cock, loving. Unfortunately, my
cock didn't stay all that hard while we puzzled over each other's
thoughts.

With a child's curiosity, my mother just reached out and took my cock
in her hand. She cradled my balls and lightly squeezed sack and shaft.
I grew instantly hard. That's when I remembered what love was all
about.

"Honey, your mommy wants to give you her cock. Then you can show her
how to make it loving."

Mother looked up at me - her eyes glistened like pools of sunshine.

"Now you understand everything, Calvin." My mother had returned. She
stood up and hugged me, without releasing the bulging flesh in her
hand.

"I will take good care of it. I promise." It was my mother who leaned
down and kissed the tip of my cock.  When she gobbled it into her
mouth, I was sent straight to heaven, floating there with wings
flapping to the rythym of my mother's sucking. My balls jingled like
bells, and choirs of angels sang. I was engulfed in clouds as white as
the boiling cum she worked to near release.

She left me floating, pulling her face off of my hard on. "Honey, your
mommy wants to give your her cunt. Then you can become my mommy for
real." She pulled me from my chair, sinking her back to the floor. I
followed her deep into her loins and sucked in the hot juices of her
cunny. She writhed and rolled beneath me.

"Mommy, oh mommy!" Her hands drew me in tighter against her hairy
pubic mound. "I'm going to cum, mommy. I'm going to cum!" But before
she could, she crunched upward and clawed her hands along my back.
Spinning on her ass, she climbed down my belly and found my cock, hard
and ready to spew. Her mouth imitated mine and we sucked two orgasms
out of our minds. Our bodies welded from heat and light. I felt her
swallowing before I notices the jolts bursting from my own center. Her
cunt was like a lens to her erotic soul, and it focused me into her
own climax, my own orgasm, that exploded our unity and ripped our
souls free. We met disembodied, bodies shattered, and we rebuilt our
sexualities from the pieces.

---

Forever after, my cock was no longer a part of me. It had become a
part of my mother which she tended like a shepherd. Her cunt became a
part of me. Time passed, and mother and I reached a new understanding.
We no longer played any games. We openly confronted each other with
our desires. I eventually became her woman, and she, in time, became
my slut. This way she could answer to God, that she had never become a
lesbian, and I got myself the best piece of ass a church going, social
reject would ever get.

One day, I wore her clothes for the rest of my life. My obsession with
needing my mother's love was complete, and in every respect she became
my little girl. That is until she began giving birth to our children.
Then, her moral obligations turned her into a completely different
mommy, but fortunately it was a mommy who could accept her son as the
woman in her life.

Many years later, I asked my mother my last stupid question. "How are
we going to explain us to our kids?"

"Don't worry, Calvina. We'll just tell them you're their aunt."


The End

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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