Title: Easy Catch Almost Too Easy
Keywords: mF, inc, mom, son, mdom, sm, anal, cheat, mat
Author: Caesar
Summary: For his greedy malicious lust, a young man seduces his abused mother - not realizing just how dangerous a game he is playing until it is too late.
 









I'd rather have fingers than toes,
I'd rather have ears than a nose,
        And a happy erection
        Brought just to perfection
Makes me terribly sad when it goes.



Easy Catch Almost Too Easy

by Caesar, copyright 2003

$Revision: 1.10 $ $Date: 2007-12-02 07:47:45 $

The reason James did it was not for profit or for fame - he did it out
of laziness and power.  Besides it had worked in the past, with other
girls that he had seen a weakness, a potential for himself, within.
James had used this ability of his, to ensnare and then enslave a
woman until he tired of her.

It started, strangely enough, by witnessing his father's treatment of
his mother since his earliest memories.  In his verbal, and often
physical, abuse of her - of her complete submission and even anxious
obedience.

Years later, James had fallen in lust over an attractive girl in his
class and had the inevitable humiliating rejection that many teens
face.  Yet this taught him another lesson and the next girl he
approached was the quiet one - befriending and learning some of what
she feared and some of what she loved, he used this against her to
great success, breaking down her defences with his emotional attacks.

Though not a popular boy, he was one of the first of his peers to
loose his virginity - though none even knew it.  By the time that
James graduated he had a stable of girls that he used at his
discretion - sexually or otherwise.  They, having been truly
manipulated by a proved expert, practically worshipped the tall
plain-looking young man.

Up to this point in James' life, I could have written several stories
about his conquests but it was one particular that stands out from the
others.  One that truly states how cold a person James can be, how
much he craved the power of holding a weaker person at his whim.  Yet
this story also reveals how the manipulator can also become trapped -
so beware!

Strangely enough it was a torn nylon that caused Jame's to take a
brief second and truly look at his own mother.

Taking the shop truck, he had rushed home to find his father - he
having come home from the garage, which he owned and operated, for
lunch - seated in the living room wearing his traditional sneering
smirk and a half-drained beer in one hand.  His greasy trousers
though, were open at the top so that his old man's underwear was
plainly seen.

Just at that second his mother enters the room silently, carrying a
plate with a fat sandwich upon it.  Both parents look at their son
surprised at his appearance before the old man chuckles, "A few
seconds earlier James and you'd have seen your skanky old mom in
action!"  He laughed hugely at his own joke, while Jame's mother,
Teresa, did not even seem to hear him.

After that comment James did, indeed, notice that his mothers hair was
looking messy and her skirt wrinkled.  She handed her husband his
sandwich and then started to retreat from the room.  With his parting
words, "Ugly old bitch!"

Nothing out of sorts - at least for this household.

It was at this point in time that James noticed that his mothers
tanned nylons had a very wide split up the back of her leg, from her
ankle to the hem of her skirt.  Perhaps it was the white of her pale
flesh or the way she ignored the gash in her nylon and continued to
move through her day as if it did not exist - but he felt the rush of
adrenaline that comes when he finds a 'mark', a target for his evil
designs.

What could be better than a nice juicy cunt right here at home?

 -*-

So it was the next Friday night that Jame's stayed home - something he
had not done for a very long while.  You see, the old man was out
bowling with some buddies and his mother was alone.  It was the only
night that his father never failed to not come home before midnight.

Normally, this was Teresa's night alone - usually curled up on the
couch reading romance novels.  Which she hid from her husband, else he
would throw the books into the trash and yell at her for being a
flighty whore - one of his latest terms of endearment for his wife of
21 years.  Yet she found that her son was staying home, sitting next
to her on the couch watching television.  She was finding it hard to
read her novel and was nervous that James may tell her husband of this
Friday night activity.

There was something else that caused her to be a little nervous - her
son kept looking at her, his eyes lingering upon her for seconds at a
time.  It was downright discerning, since he had barely even noticed
her since he was out of diapers.

Finally, James muted the television and turned toward his mother whom
was trying hard to ignore him.  "Mom?  Is it true you and dad had sex
the other day?"

Hiding behind the pages of her book, the question stunned the woman
and she was not sure how to answer.

But James was not waiting for an answer, that humiliation that was her
marriage quickly thrusting a dagger into her heart, "I mean, the way
he treats you I would think he doesn't even want to touch you?"

Her hands, with the book, fell to her lap and she looked upon her son
in silence as she searched for an answer.  He was no longer a
teenager, just three years from high school and Teresa knew her son
was knowledgeable in the ways of girls.  Finally words came to her,
"We are married James."  To her, that answered everything - it was the
Holy Grail of responses.

Yet he was not to be deterred, "But you guys don't fuck very often do
you?"

She barked out loudly, "James!"  Mostly at the use of the word 'fuck',
which she tried to keep some type of propriety in her home - at least
with her son.  Yet, she also did it to hide her embarrassment, as her
son's words rang true.

Teresa's husband rarely ever touched her - the lunchtime coupling
earlier in the week had been the first time in nearly seven months.
And do you want to know the reason that Teresa had been so 'blessed'
by her husband, as he liked to call it, was that she had received a
monetary grant from her family and had made the mistake of telling her
husband that fateful morning.  He had rushed home, dropped into his
favourite leather chair and told his wife to act like the whore she is
and suck him.  When he was hard, after a lengthy amount of work on her
part actually, he had ordered her to get her old fat ass up and fuck
him properly.  As she started to straddle her husbands lap, facing
him, he had made a disgusted look and told his wife to turn the other
way while he fucked her so that her ugly face won't scare his hard-on
away.  He fucked her while drinking his beer, shot a load up inside
her and then grunted something about making a sandwich.  When he went
back to work with their son that day, he had her grant check in his
back pocket with her authorization signature upon it.  That was the
last she had seen of it.

James softened his voice - "Sorry mom... its just that I don't
understand him!"

That stilled her anger and she could not disconcert what her son did
not understand about his father.  Finally she had to ask, "What don't
you understand James?"  She had tried to use a maternal stern voice,
as it seemed appropriate, but was unsuccessful.  Teresa had never been
a good mother, never been able to take control of her son, let alone
of her own home.

"Its nothing mom."  He turned the sound back on the television
effectively ending the conversation.  After contemplating her son's
words for several minutes brought she her book back up but for the
life of her could not concentrate enough to read a single sentence.

Though she wanted to ask James what he did not understand about his
father, she could not find the words as she felt a spark within her at
what she unconsciously hoped was the answer.  Instead she dropped her
book and asked loudly, over the sound of the television program, "Why
are you not out on a date honey?"  Her son had a constant flow of
women in his life, often disappearing for most of the weekend with one
of a half dozen that she knew by name.

James muted the television and turned to his mother again, "Because I
wanted to spend more time with you."

The answer took Teresa by surprise and she starred into her son's eyes
for a lengthy amount of time - trying to see if he was attempting to
be malicious, as she knew he had some of his father in him.  Yet she
could not read him at all.

Finally, she echoed, "You wanted to spend more time with me?"

He laughed lightly, "Yea, is that a crime or something?"

Teresa frowned, trying to consider what her son was trying to get.
"No, its not a crime.  It is just that you were never before
interested in what went on in this house?"

Her son turned serious for a second and hung his head, as if he was
ashamed, "Your right mom - but that is going to change starting
today."

Now she was truly confused, "Change how?"

James caught his mothers eye yet again, "You just don't understand do
you mom?"

She nodded her head negatively.

His hand reached out, and Teresa flinched when she mistook her son's
intentions, and gently took one of her own in his grasp.  It was an
alien touch to her - gentle and understanding.  "I love you mom and I
can not stand how he treats you as he does."

She felt as if she was drunk and heard herself ask, "Treats me?"
Teresa kept her son's gaze even though her eyes started to water up.

James shrugged and withdrew his hand, "I may not be able to stop how
he treats you mom, only you can do that, but I can treat you the way
you should be."

Again that small voice, "Should be?"  Only through great will power
did she not break down and sob - she had suppressed her emotions for
so many years that the admission that someone else may sympathize with
her predicament caused a small rift in her hard outer shell.

He smiled softly, "Like the beautiful woman that you are mother."

James could see the battle within his mother and though he may not
understand it he knew it was how his wars are won.

He turned off the television and then suddenly stood, "I'm going up to
my room to read mom.  But first, I'll draw you a hot bath and light a
candle - why don't you read your book up there?"

Without even waiting for an answer James withdrew into the darkness of
the night, a triumphant smile upon his face and he knew this round
went to him.

 -*-

Over the next couple Friday's were their time, mother and son.  They
would sit at the table or curled up at either end of the large couch
and simply talk.  Well, Teresa talked and James asked the questions.
He asked questions that may surprise some people - what is your
favourite colour, white, what is your favourite time of year, the
fall, as examples.  After weeks of this, the questions went onto his
mothers childhood - asking all sorts of questions until Teresa
anxiously awaited each Friday and felt a desire to open up completely
with her son, to tell him everything as best she could.

The fact that he was interested in her was amazing in itself, the fact
that he openly told her he loved her now was simply heart-altering.
Throughout her life Teresa had neither shown nor received any kind of
affection - this was true, most assuredly days after her marriage.
That is not to say that she did not crave love, but that it had never
been shown her and she felt she was not deserving nor privileged
enough to have any.  Her son had grown up ignoring her and her
husband... well, her husband treated her better in the last years,
since he no longer forced her to have sex and stopped, for the most
part, hitting her.  He said she was not worth the effort.

Don't mistake her resentment to have sex, Teresa was a very sexual
person.  It was just that when with her husband, even on their
marriage night, he used her like a slab of meat.  Her pleasure did not
matter and he loudly voiced his disgust at her performance, her
body... everything.  The only sexual pleasure Teresa had found in her
life, was with her own hands and mind - and only in the last years as
the burning desire between her legs has heated up considerably
compared to her teens or twenties.

Teresa had a lot of questions for her son, but could not find the
courage to ask.  Rather she glowed with a strange-unknown pleasure at
Jame's attentions toward her.

Then, one Friday long after they had sat down on the couch, James
gently asked, "Why do you always wear skirts mom?"

The question embarrassed her but she had long since resolved to be
honest and open with her son, wanting to please him and to keep these
very precious moments between them.  "Your father told me long ago to
only ever wear dresses or skirts."

Strangely, at least to the parent, James nodded in agreement.  "You do
have great legs mom."

She felt her face turning crimson with embarrassment, a feeling that
was rare in her emotionally-submissive life.  "I do?"  Teresa never
received any sort of compliments - especially about her body.

Still nodding, "Definitely!"  Then he frowned lightly, "Maybe you
should wear jeans next week mom."

Rather weakly she found herself echoing her son's words yet again,
"Jeans?"

"Yea.  After dad leaves, put on jeans for our talk - he will never
know!"

Teresa felt horrified in doing such a blatantly rebellious thing when
her son added, "But make sure they are just tight enough to show off
your great legs and waist mom!"

James broke out laughing while Teresa sat stunned by her son's
comments.  After a short while she felt the bubble of her humour
escape from her lips and she laughed with her son though she had no
idea why.

 -*-

"Turn around slowly mom."

Teresa had her eyes closed as she slowly turned about, feeling her
son's admiring gaze upon her.

James looked at the old, out of style, jeans that his mother wore and
suppressed a smirk.  It was too easy he thought, she was like putty in
his experienced hands.

When she completed the turn Teresa opened her eyes and asked, "May I
sit down now James?"

Without hesitation, "Of course mom!  I'm sorry if I embarrassed you?"

She quickly slide into the hard wood chair across from her son, at the
kitchen table, thankful that her denim clad legs were hidden from her
son's eyes.  Teresa tried to hide her embarrassment, "I think the
jeans are too tight?"  They were - it had take some great effort to
get them buttoned up.  She could imagine she could feel her son's eyes
still upon her thighs and bottom like a physical touch.

James reached across the table and took one of his mothers hands in
his own and softly said, "The pants looks fabulous on you mom."  He
withdrew his hand and off handedly stated, "If you want to change back
into that old skirt I don't mind mom?"

Teresa could hear the disappointment and coldness in her son's final
words and it scared her - she could not bare loosing their Friday
nights together.  Rather hastily she replied, "No!  I mean not if you
don't want me too honey?"

He caught her nervous and fearful eye, reading her to perfection and
paused just long enough until she felt as if she was loosing him.
"That would be great mom!"  Her son's wide smile returned and he
changed tack, "Now tell me...", he looked up at the ceiling as if
thinking, "... what was the best Christmas gift you ever received?"

A small smile came to her face, genuinely happy to talk to her son
about anything he wanted.  The fact that he wanted to know of her more
pleasant of memories only seemed to heighten her pleasure.  She drew a
evergreen tree upon the table top with her index finger as she thought
back to her pre-teen years... then she started to tell all.

 -*-

The photo binders were covered in dust and for the fifth time since
she had brought out the box, she apologized for the mess it made of
their hands and laps.  An ancient black binder sat upon her denim
covered thighs, open to pictures of a cute little girl and a small
dog.

"What was the dog's name mom?"

Teresa laughed lightly, her eyes glazed over as she thought back to
happier times.  "Benji!"

James laughed with her, more so about the way things were proceeding
than about some mutt over thirty years ago.

At first the mother felt uncomfortable with the outer side of one full
leg pressed against her son - let alone seated so close to him.  Yet,
he seemed not to even notice - indeed, he seemed to enjoy the
closeness.  In truth, after being reassured of its innocence, the
closeness felt good as well, if alien.

 -*-

"Its your favourite song mom!"

It was.  It had been revealed weeks ago - a song from a different
life.  Teresa did not feel comforted though, only saddened.

But then her son held out his arms and nodded for his mom to come to
him.

She could not believe what James was proposing, it caused her face to
redden and her knees to weaken.  She hadn't danced since her wedding -
and then it was with her new and very drunk husband.  And she had
never danced to this song, a lengthy mushy song that was her private
romantic waltz in her later teen years and even into the early married
years.

Teresa found herself walking into her sons arms and she felt him wrap
his arms about her torso. She suddenly felt relaxed and allowed her
body to melt into her son's taller body and into his hard chest, her
face pressed against his hard bosom so that she could hear the
pounding of his heart.

James smiled widely, feeling his mom almost collapse in his arms -
feeling her sigh deeply into his chest.  His feet barely moved but his
arms soothed his mothers back slowly, almost in time to the music that
he could barely stand.

Women, he knew were so mushy - favourite song's, tales of teenage
heartache and happy memories of stupid family outings.  True his
mother had fewer pleasant thoughts than his other conquests - those
few memories were only made stronger and sweeter to her consciousness.

Yet, the ease that she had opened herself to her son, as if she were
desperate for some affection, attention - reinforced his resolve to
enslave his own mother to his whim.

Of the women and girls that James had controlled over the years, he
had found himself enjoying the most mature of his ladies.  He had many
theories about this, part of their being familiar and unafraid of
their own bodies or their almost desperate desire for sex, as well as
the pleasure of their enjoying a younger man whom found them
attractive and even the threat of his leaving for a younger and
prettier girl.  Show a old girl some attention and they seemed to fawn
over you - James laughed to himself.

Abruptly the song ended and mother and son found themselves embraced
in the middle of the silent living room.

James was the first to break the embrace, holding his mother at arms
length from him.  While Teresa was looking up, doe-like, at her only
son.  "I love you mom."

"Thank you for this James."  Her eyes started to water up and her chin
trembled.

"Can I kiss you?"

Teresa felt nothing, stunned perhaps, and no answer was forthcoming
before her son leaned forward and down.  She watched her son as his
lips pressed against her own and she became aware that her heart was
thumping so violently that it was almost painful.

Then he pulled back again, his hands dropping to his side, and laughed
lightly.

She watched him turn to the stereo while feeling still shocked,
replaying that quick kiss over and over in her head.  Teresa told
herself that it was only her son's love that instigated the kiss, a
kiss of a son for his ageing mother.  She convinced herself that she
was acting stupid - they had been having many weeks of pleasure,
talking to each other - there was nothing wrong with what had just
happened.

What may puzzle even her son was that she had not been kissed in
years, her husband always said her lips were only good for one thing -
blowing dicks.  That this first kiss in many years felt good - very
good.  After she convinced herself that it was innocent she allowed
the pleasure to flow through her body like a warm wave of love.

James turned after removing the old forty-five from the rarely-used
record player and looked upon his mother - seeing a transformation
come over her.  He had let his chaste kiss linger just a few seconds
longer than propriety would allow a mother and son and he saw the
pleasure written upon her face after the moments hesitation.

This was just too easy, he thought.
 
 -*-

His mother held the gift wrapped box as if it was a bomb, "Honey?"

"Just open it mom!"

Teresa was not used to getting gifts of any kind, let alone when there
was no occasion.  She allowed her years-long learnt trepidation
submerge beneath her child-like pleasure.  A wide smile appeared upon
her face and her hands shook the box.

She laughed as she set it down on the kitchen counter and ripped it
rapidly open - seeing the clothing inside.  "James!"

Teresa yanked it from the box and she saw that it was a stylish blue
denim.  Her laugh was loud and happy.

"Though I like how sexy you look in your old jeans mom, I thought you
would like something newer?"

"Oh honey... its perfect!"  Teresa noticed that it was one size too
small, but it would still fit better than her old denims that she had
been struggling into for her son these last weeks.  She even craved
when her son told her how sexy he thought she was and how it made her
feel lightheaded, desired.

"There is more mom, look in the bottom of the box?"

Teresa paused and peered into the bottom of the box and saw a small
tissue covered garment.  She retrieved it and pulled at the wrapping
and then held it frozen with a single finger and thumb - her laughter
already forgotten.

It was a white lace thong.

James laughed and explained, "No more panty lines mom!"

Awkwardly, "Thank you honey."

In all her years, Teresa had never owned a single item of lingerie -
never wore anything so skimpy or transparent.  Was it proper for a son
to buy his mother skimpy underwear?  The old ingrained self-defence
cold feeling crept into her heart.

His laughter died away and she turned to look at her only son and saw
that he looked almost angry.

"If you don't like it mom, I'll take it back?"

Teresa saw his anger, his displeasure, and perhaps his impatience and
it scared her more than anything in her life.  To have lived her life
for so many years submerging her emotions, accepting the physical and
emotional abuse without a word and then to find someone that loved her
for herself... she felt horror at her blunder.  Of course it was OK
that he should give her clothing, yes even underwear, that he thought
would only heighten her attraction, her visual appearance.  He not
only wanted to spend time with her, but he wanted to spend time with,
what her son must regard, a comely woman.  While she doubted her own
attractiveness, she found a certain adolescent pleasure in her son's
obvious interest in her.

Teresa told herself, yet again, that his interest was only innocent -
that she had seen some of his girlfriends and knew she would never
compete physically with any of them.

So, her initial reaction at seeing the thong was quickly overpowered
by her resolve that she loved her son and that she was acting like
some over-the-hill prude.

"No honey... its just... well, I have never worn anything so..."

"Sexy?"

She nodded her head up and down, "...yes, sexy.  Thank you James."
Teresa forced a smile to her face and stepped up to her son, letting
her head drop back and puckering her lips to thank him with a kiss.

It had turned into something mother and son did each Friday night -
just as he told her he loved her, they kissed.  Closed mouth, hot
moist lips, the lingering kisses that caused Teresa to feel
lightheaded and, if standing, knock-kneed.

James held his mother against him, looking down into her face after
the kiss.  "Why don't you run up and put on my gifts mom?"

Teresa could see the anxious pleasure in her son's gaze and though she
felt nervous she forced a smile and nodded her acceptance.

On uncertain knees, she turned and walked to her room where she tried
not too think too much as she put on the alien-feeling white lace
thong - instantly feeling cheap and ridiculous in the skimpy lingerie.
The jeans, though, were something different - they were a little snug
of course, being a size too small, but they felt much better than her
old denim.  Quickly, before returning to her son in the kitchen, she
checked herself out in the mirror and was surprised at how attractive
her legs, hips and ass looked in her new garments.

James whistled playfully as his mother reappeared, an embarrassed
happy smile appearing on her face.  But it was obvious to her son that
his mom was pleasantly surprised and pleased.

Taking hold of his mothers shoulders in each hand, James held her
steady as he openly appraised his gifts.

Teresa allowed herself to be spun and held so that her back was facing
her son.  She could barely contain her pride as she knew her son was
happy, that she did indeed look good in his gift.  She only paused,
mentally, when she felt a light touch upon the curve of her bottom,
feeling it slowly move down to the top of one thigh before
disengaging.  Then, before she could think any more about that touch
James spun her again and wrapped his arms about her for a firm loving
hug.

Still holding his mother, James whispered into his mom's ear, "I was
wrong mom... I thought your legs were your best feature, but I think
its your bottom!"

The comment paused her thoughts until he pushed her back to arms
length before him and laughed with pleasure.  Teresa allowed her
pleasure to resurface after the moments respite.

"Lets go into the living room and sit down and talk mom!"  James
rushed, pulling his mother behind him by the hand.

She felt like the luckiest woman alive suddenly, to be so loved, as
she looked forward to the rest of their Friday evening together.  It
was like something out of one of her romantic novels.

Already that lingering touch upon her ass moments before was
forgotten.

 -*-

The old truck's engine cut out leaving a thick silence that seemed to
fill her ears.  Rarely did Teresa go out except to go grocery shopping
or to do chores.  This trip, though, she felt positively naughty.
They had driven to a take-out place and ate the ice cream in silence -
her son barely talking this evening.  Teresa did not talk either, she
just sat silently feeling like a kid again - happy.

Then there was her son's latest gift - an expensive pair of high heels
that, when she put them on, along with her first gifts, her son had
asked her to walk about the room so as to watch her intently.  She had
done it, of course - feeling brave and loved.

"Why don't you scoot over here mom?"

The truck was one of her husbands, or more correctly one of the
garages - but her son always had the use of one of the vehicles from
the shop any time he wanted.  It had wide, worn through leather,
bucket seats that squeaked when she slide into the middle position.

"Closer mom - I don't bite."

That nervous cold feeling was returning but Teresa immediately did as
her son asked - until her whole side was pressed to his own.

James brought his arm up and wrapped it about his mothers shoulders
and leaned down to kiss the side of her face, upon her cheek.  "Great
view huh mom?"

"Its gorgeous honey."  It was.  This spot overlooked their home town -
and the lights of the night, along with the silence, was calming.

He whispered into her ear, "Not as gorgeous as you mom."

Though she knew it was wrong and alarm bells were going off in her
head, she felt herself swoon at her son's words, feeling comforted
whenever in his arms.

James could feel his mom tense beneath his arm before relaxing into
him and he smiled to himself - she was so predictable.

They sat in silence for a very long while and though Teresa watched
the sights outside the trucks window, she had to fight from looking up
at her son's handsome but rugged face.  Loving him like her heart had
not loved before.

She was again feeling uncertain about Jame's intentions, when she felt
his arm stretch upon her shoulder and his hand grasp her small breast
gently.  Stunned, her unspoken questions seemed to have been answered
and she could not find the words to stop the descent of her heart.  As
she had to order her feelings down, as it was wrong what her son was
doing.

"James...?"

"Hush mom, just enjoy the sights!"

Surprising, even to James, his mother had not moved or verbally lashed
out at his behaviour.  She had not even removed his hand from her
breast.  This was not his plan at all - so he gently started to stroke
his mothers breast in his large hand.  Soon her nipple was pressing
into his palm as it hardened and her breathing was becoming laboured.

After nearly thirty minutes of mauling her single breast, James
removed his hand and arm from about his mother and started the old
beat up truck.  Silently he drove down the dark bumpy hill, while his
mother still sat with her body pressed against him - but her arms had
folded over her chest almost protectively.

Some time later, after the silent drive, they returned back home - his
father's truck still not back from his night out with his buddies.

Mother and son entered the darkened house and before she could retreat
to the sanctuary of her room her son called gently, "Mom come here
please?"

Her heels clicked on the hard wood floor as she returned to the mud
room, and her son.  She was feeling incredibly vulnerable, as if she
were that pre-adolescent child just starting to realize how unfair
life can be.

James wrapped an arm about his mothers waist and pulled her to him,
pressing his strong moist lips to her own.  His free hand, though, had
come up and grasped his mothers breast between the two bodies.  When
she did not pull away but seemed to melt in her sons arms, James
slipped his hand from her waist down to her well rounded ass to give
it a possessive squeeze.

After a very long kiss that left Teresa feeling almost faint but with
an alien warm glow within her body, James pulled his lips from his
mothers, keeping his hands upon her, her mature body still pressed
against his own.  "I am proud of you mom!"

It took a few seconds for her sons words to reach her fuzzy mind and
Teresa could not remember anyone ever being proud of her.

"You know I love you don't you mom?"  His hand slipped from her full
covered breast and slipped behind her, so that a hand cupped each butt
cheek.  He lifted his mother up off her feet and she grasped in
surprise.

Her heart was a whirlwind of emotions and her mind felt dull and
witless, but her body felt vibrant.  All that Teresa could do was nod
that she knew her son did indeed love her - that she did not doubt.
It was when she considered how her son loved her was when she felt a
coldness grasp her heart like a fist.

What Teresa knew without a doubt now, was that her son loved her in a
way that terrified her and well as excited her.

James descended his lips once again and Teresa anxiously awaited the
touch and when it came she felt the muscles in her body giving out.
Luckily she was suspended in her son's hands where they cupped her
ass.

Then James' tongue slipped past her submissive lips she groaned as he
aggressively explored her mouth feeling all the world like a virginal
teenager.

 -*-

The old man found the new high heels and confronted his wife in a loud
and violent manner only days later.

James had a date with one of his regular sluts that he was not home
when the fight occurred.  And when he did reach home, the house was
dark and silent.  That next morning he went to work where his old man
was already hard at it in the office - when they crossed paths just
before noon the old man grumbled about his 'cunt of a wife' and having
found her 'come-fuck-me heels' and then loudly bragged having 'knocked
some sense into the old skank'.

All the while, James stood fearful that his old man would learn who
had bought his wife those high heels.  It had been years since his
father had took a fist to his son, but he knew his anger could be
terrible.  His father said nothing, which James knew that his mother
had not revealed where the shoes can come from.  The old man was
simply not that good an actor.

James finished his day and then watched his father depart to spend
time with his buddies.

It was Friday night and James cautiously drove home.  In truth he was
not sure how to think about what had just happened.  It certainly was
not the first time his mother had been knocked around by her husband -
it was not even the first time that she took a beating because of
something her son had done.  Yet in the weeks, months, that James had
been preparing his mother, seducing her with attention and affection,
he had come to enjoy her company - the way her lashes batted and her
eyes twinkled innocently when he took their relationship further.
Sure he had done this over a dozen times with other women, this time
was different - he actually gave a fuck about the woman he was
manipulating.

Strangely, in the drive home, he started to thing about turning his
mother into his slave not only for his greedy lust but also to protect
her, to give her the love that she lacked in her life.  Though he
would never admit it, James thought of himself as his mother's knight
in white armour - her protector and saviour.

The house was silent but James knew to find her laying painfully in
her bed.  Her eyes were open and watching when he opened the door and
saw her laying in her cotton nightie with the bed-covers pressed to
her waist.  Her face was viciously bruised and one eye was swollen
almost closed.

"Mom!"

James rushed to her side and Teresa turned her head away, "I am fine
James - please... just go?"

"Oh mom!  How bad is it mom?"

She did not turn her head toward her son nor did she say a word.
Teresa was a veteran when it came to physical and emotional abuse by
her husband.  James, she thought, should know this by now.

"Dad told me he found the heels mom... god mom, I'm so sorry!"  He was
and his own guilt and pain was heard in his voice.  It was enough for
the mother to turn her head so that her son could see her.  The
emotion in his voice surprising the both of them.

This was her reality, Teresa, told herself.  Having thought about this
most of last night and all of today - she had come to be disgusted at
the pleasure she had been feeling when with her son.  It simply was
not real, the pain of her body now was real - years of pain was proof
enough.

Taking James gifts and parading around in front of him... letting his
hands touch her so commonly... his lips hungry against her own... he
was her son for gods sake!  She forced any pleasant thought about
those moments together to submerge into the darkness of her heart - a
place that she could not allow to rise to the surface else it will
only bring more pain and anguish.

Then there was the final reason for these thoughts, if her husband
ever discovered what she had been doing with her son - as innocent as
she wished to think them - she knew her husbands anger may just force
him to kill her and James.  And that scared her more than any other
thought.

Teresa could see the anger in her son rising, his fathers son, "Tell
me what he did to you mom?"

"Its OK James, please."  She brought one hand up and tenderly stroked
his cheek - but immediately pulled it as if his scratchy two day beard
was fire.  The truth was that that single touch started to draw out
the emotions that she was trying very hard to suppress - for both
their sakes.

James yanked the bedspread down so that he saw his mother laying with
her long nightie bundled about her knees and her feet a meter apart.
He also saw an ice pack placed directly over her groin, on top of her
nightie.  "Mom?"  His anguish obvious in his pained voice.

"I'll be fine tomorrow James."

Yet that anger and hurt was still in James' soul and he pulled the
cold pack from his mothers body and then pulled up her white cotton
nightie up to her waist.  What he saw was his parents soft white
thighs bruised and then darker bruising about the brown hair of her
pussy.

"James, stop right this moment!"  She quickly pushed her nightie down
past her bruising, and then looked back at her son, her eyes pleading
with him.

"Tell me what he did?"  His anger was frightening.

Just like the gifts, his hands, his kisses, Teresa could not contest
her son anything.  Taking a long deep breath Teresa blurted out what
had happened in a rush, "Before your father threw out the high heels -
he... he used one on me."

"'He used one'?"  His eyes were huge.

This time when he pulled her nightie back up she did not resist,
fighting back the flood of emotions that threated to overwhelm her so
that all she could do was turn away.

"James...?"  She wanted to tell her son to leave her alone for the
night - that she would be back up and things could return to normal
tomorrow.  It was how it was done in this family, since it had been
formed.  Yet, nothing else came from her lips.

Tenderly, James spread his mothers legs further apart before leaning
down to inspect the bruising from a closer proximity.  "Its OK
James... please...?"

Then he leaned further and placed his moist lips against the side of
her thigh, where a purple and black bruise marred her skin.  His touch
not only surprised Teresa but it caused her to gasp loudly, her head
snapping back so as to look upon her son and then tensed her body
while her hand jerked up and grasped her son's messy greasy hair.
"James...!"

She sat frozen so that she even held her breath when she felt her son
move upward and then reach down yet again.  This time his lips pressed
at the top of her naturally sparse pubic hair, directly over one of
the worst of the bruises.  His lips lingered and Teresa did not even
realize that she was exhaling so loudly.

This was beyond her experiences, even her vanilla fantasies, and
Teresa had no idea what to do, how to handle this.  Her son's lips
were upon her nether region - a place that had never had another
person so close before.

James felt his mothers hands hold his hair roughly, but he was
surprised that she was not attempting to pull him from between her
legs.  Rather, the way she was breathing and gasping, it was obvious
that the reaction was positive.  That first kiss upon her bruised skin
had been like a child kissing another's 'boo boo' - yet it had quickly
turned into something else.  So he kissed again and then again.

Rarely with his women did he get so close to their cunt's - those were
for fingers or cocks he thought - but neither was he a stranger to a
woman's parts.

His anger dissipated when he realized the pleasure his mother was
enduring because of his actions and it fuelled further responses
within him.  Yet right there, lower down upon his mothers outer labia
was the obvious scratches and bruises of his fathers abuse of her
vagina.  He had used the shoe to fuck her with, raping her cunt with
the heel so that she screamed out while he laughed maliciously in
triumph.  She would have to learn that what lay between her legs was
not only for the abuse that she had endured since before he was born,
but it could be used for exquisite pleasure as well.

When his lips kissed directly over her hidden clitoris his mother
jerked beneath him, her legs widening even further.  She whispered,
"James stop this!"  But without any resolve so that he ignored her
half-hearted plea.

Then he slipped his tongue daintily from between his own lips and
between his mothers folds, so that she gasped out, "Oh my god!"

This was a thing from one of her novels and she had never thought how
exquisite it could possibly feel.  The pain of her body was forgotten
almost instantly as the pleasure quickly rose - faster than she had
ever thought possible.

James was careful to be very tender and to not go lower than his
mothers clitoris - as it was obviously well abused and no amount of
kisses would cause that area to feel better.  No, he used his lips to
hold her outer labia wide enough so that his tongue had free reign
with her rapidly enlarging hard clitoris.  All the while both his
mothers hands held her son's head and pulled it toward her sex while
her body trembled and twitched beneath her son's face.

With his tongue, Teresa did not even realize it while he was doing it,
that that dark place that she forced her emotions to hide was torn
asunder and all her love and pleasure was freely flowing through her
person.

Her orgasm quickly approached and Teresa thought she could see it like
a cloud of pleasure fast approaching her consciousness.  It would have
scared her if she had been cognisant enough to think clearly - rather
she simply enjoyed, feeling and watching that pleasure like a
spectator.

Her life was gone, her son was gone - all that was left was pleasure
that raped through her body directly from the new sensations in her
clitoris.  Nothing else mattered and Teresa actually screamed as the
orgasm even took hold of her inner voyeur eye and she buckled and
thrashed upon the bed as the tongue continued to draw out every ounce
of pleasure from her body until she faded into pleasant blackness.

James sat back, whipping the back of his hand across his wet lips and
cheeks.  He saw that his mother had passed out.  For a few minutes he
only sat and looked upon her bruised face and relived the sounds,
feelings and even the taste of his mothers obvious pleasure.  It had
been the most violent orgasm that he had ever witness, had ever
delivered to a woman and it wowed him.  This was his gift to his
mother, for enduring the pain for the both of them.

Tenderly he drew the nightie back down to her knees and the blanket
back up to her chin before withdrawing.

Even though he was feeling powerful and dominant in giving such
pleasure, he realized that the prey had been captured.  There was
nothing she would not do for him now.  Though his own guilt and fear
was building.

 -*-

Mother and son danced slowly, almost with no movement, to more modern
music than the last time they danced.  James had his hands full of his
mothers denim covered buttocks and was absently mauling them to the
same tempo of the slow music.  Teresa was pressing herself against the
front of her son, her face hidden in his chest while her eyes were
closed and she enjoyed every second that they were together.

That terrible and wonderful Friday, only a week before, had been a
turning point for the middle aged woman.  She lived and endured
through her week for this night, alone with her son, and knew there
was nothing she would not do for him now.  The orgasm that he had
given her a week before had been enough to change her life.

The bruises were almost gone - the pain in her face and between her
legs only another chapter in the book of her life.  And though Teresa
tried very hard to only think of the 'now' she hopped her son would
want more, sexually speaking, from her.  For the first time in her
life, Teresa wanted to give pleasure and rather than fear it, looked
forward to any intimate moments her son would allow her.

James knew she was his, had seen it in her normally-dead gaze through
the week and then, now, felt it in the body that she liberally pressed
against him.  His mother was his for the taking.

It had been an easy catch - almost too easy.  She was responding to
his every touch like she was addicted to him, gasping with pleasure
wherever his hands may touch, her eyes submissively looking at him as
if... waiting.

But it was worrying him - his father was not stupid, unfortunately,
and he would notice a change in his wife.  A new spark of life, and
may even notice how she looked at their son with wide-eyed devotion.
James had started this seduction to enslave his mother as he had
turned other ladies to his whim, some went more willingly than others.
For his mother, he expected her to submit begrudgingly - unable to
deny him.  Simply a convenient outlet for his sexual desires.  Rather,
he was finding that the woman pressed against him was more than
willing - he could almost feel the need radiating from her.

"Mother?"

Teresa's head lifted instantly and tilted back to look into her son's
eyes.  "Yes honey?"  She wore this dreamy half-smile that was pure
love.

He spoke as firm as he could, under the intimate circumstances - "We
have to be careful around dad."

She nodded, still smiling, "Of course honey."  In truth, Teresa could
care less what the future held for her - in fact if she had spent time
considering everything she fully expected her husband found out about
James and herself, but could care less and wanted only to live for the
moment.  To have this one moment in her life where she found true
happiness, pleasure and yes, even love.

"When he is around you can't even look at me OK?"

She nodded her acceptance, though only half-heartedly.  "I love you
honey."

James sighed, "I love you too mom."

"Can I do anything for you?"  Her eye lashes fluttered and she could
barely keep his eye.  It was the first time in her life that she was
making a sexual advance to another person and it caused her body to
tremble.

James knew what she meant of course but for the first time in his life
was not sure what to do next.  To her son, Teresa looked for all the
world like a virgin anxious to learn all the secrets of sex that were
previously denied to her.

Teresa saw her son's hesitation and thought it fear of his father, but
she had felt his kiss earlier that evening, remembered the glory of
his tongue upon her clitoris the week before and knew he wanted her,
loved her, as much as she now loved and wanted him.

Since waking from her orgasm the week before she had thought of many
ways to reciprocate the pleasure that her son had given her.  Teresa
had played out scenarios where she used the only thing at her
disposal, her body, to attempt to please him as much as he did her.
Though there were no boundaries to these fantasies and all thoroughly
exciting to consider - she knew there was only one thing she could
honestly say she was proficient at when it came to sex.  One thing
that she knew he would enjoy without any doubt in her mind.

Even before she was married, with several guys including her two
brothers and her uncle, she had used her mouth to pleasure men.  Early
in her marriage, her husband had admitted it was his wife's talented
blow jobs that cornered him into the wedding.  While they rarely had
intercourse - it was almost amazing that they had James - her husband
had been very liberal about having his wife use her mouth to pleasure
him.  Later, even his demands for oral sex diminished so that he
rarely, if ever, ordered sexual favours from his wife.

What all this amounted too was that Teresa considered her mouth, lips
and tongue to be the best way to give pleasure to her only child.  She
wanted to take the years of cocks plunging in and out past her
unwilling lips, the different men pounding away at her face, the yells
and the slaps for her to do a better job - learning what they liked
what they did not, how to perform to give the greatest pleasure to the
cock in her mouth and thus end each encounter as fast as possible -
and use that to give her son a languorous and expert orgasm using her
mouth.

Yet, Teresa could not find the words to ask her son if he wanted her
to suck his cock.  Though she so wanted too.  Instead she allowed her
unsteady knees to buckle and lowered herself to the carpeted floor
before her son.

"Mom?"

Her hands came up and unzipped James' pants, looking up into her son's
surprised eyes, "Please James, let me do this for you?"

A half hard penis hung from his pants, and waved before his mothers
face.  James viewed the sight before him - his cock waving in the
foreground with his mothers face as the background.

Teresa did not hesitate though, but immediately opened her mouth and
leaned forward and up to take her son's prick deep into her mouth.

James' immediate thought was how warm, wet and tight the interior of
his mothers mother felt and then he simply looked down in pleasure at
the sight of his cock already enlarging and stretching his mothers red
lips.

His mom was overjoyed at what was happening, what he had allowed her
to do for him.  Oral sex, for her, had always been something forced -
something that a guy had ordered her to do, often sneaking into her
bed late at night and it was never to be enjoyed, only endured.  For
the first time in her life she wanted to do this...  for her son, to
give him pleasure with the best instrument that she had.  So, Teresa
closed her eyes and enjoyed every second of this blow job, ensuring
that her son's pleasure would be drawn out.

Within a minute of his dick kissing the air, James knew his mother had
the most talented mouth of any other woman that he had been with.
Just watching her perform her masterpiece upon his pale hard shaft was
a thing of beauty and he now knew why the old man often joked about
his wife's 'whore mouth' being her only noticeable feature.

As her son's hips pumped forward, Teresa swivelled her head back and
forth as well as alternating an up and down movement with her son's.
All the while her lips were clamped tight about the shaft while her
tongue danced upon the naturally ribbed surface.  Her ears caught her
son mumbling, "Oh god mom!  That feels so fucking good!"  It caused a
flutter of pleasure to strum inside her sex - he was enjoying her
work.

She was experienced enough to know all the signs, foretelling the
impending climax to the nearest second.  Teresa timed it so the head
of her son's circumcised cock lay inside her mouth as soon as it
started to spurt out its life-giving fluids upon her ready tongue.

James heard his mother swallow loudly over his grunts of pleasure and
was amazed at how hungry for his seed she appeared to be.  It was a
new experience to him - this very talented and hungry woman kneeling
before him.  Simply the fact that she willingly did this - rather than
being 'persuaded' as most of his other 'girls' also spoke volume's to
the young man.

After the last of his sperm had evicted from the head of his prick -
James stepped back two steps and collapsed onto the couch.  His
mother, forced to let the shrinking cock out of her mouth, watched him
almost demurely.  Of course he was sexually pleased - but what about
what he may think of a mother that willingly did that to her only
child?

In truth, Teresa had known that she would have submitted, perhaps not
completely willingly, to her child that first night that he had stayed
home with her on their first Friday together.  If he forced her head
between his legs, to toss her over the back of the couch and yanked
her skirt up to her waist - she would have taken his abuse as she did
endured all others.  Teresa would have silently accepted it and
considered it her twisted lot in life.  Yet he had not done that - she
knew he was genuinely in love with her, though he was conflicted with
his incestuous lust as well.  She now accepted all that, having known
the dark side of incest, and found nothing but excitement that she
could be loved and lusted after by the only man in her life that she
felt she could return the same attention.

All the years of abuse, all the cocks forcing themselves into her
mouth so that she could now see her son sexually content - was enough
reward to the middle-aged woman.  In all her years, she could not
recall being as happy as at that very moment!

James saw that his mother had not moved, her wet lips and wide eyes,
having been left on the floor where he had left her.  From experience,
he knew this moment to be important to their relationship that she had
given him a gift and she so wanted him to be happy with it!

"Mom come sit beside me?"

Her face quickly revealed pure happiness, as she hustled to sit next
to her son.  James placed his arm about his mother shoulder and
brought her close to him.  Mother and son kissed, passionately and for
a very long while until Teresa was swooning with pleasure - her body
feeling as if it was nearly on fire.

Her son dispelled some of that heat when he asked, "Where did you
learn to suck cock like that mom?"  Teresa felt rather common right
then - her sons question, in her mind, the same as calling her a whore
or a slut.  The men in her novels never spoke to the heroines that
way.

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked before her into empty
space, the smile disappearing.  "My brothers taught me."  It was not
completely true - they had never taught her anything, but she did not
want to admit that they had raped her mouth again and again through
many of her teenage years.  Nor did she feel the need to reveal just
how many men had discovered her submissive nature, her talented and
semi-willing mouth.

There was one aspect that those hateful memories helped with - the
ease at which she accept this sexual relationship with her son
regardless of it being incestuous.  As a teenager she had lain in
anguish, afterwards, or in fear, before, for any visit and prayed to
god that her brothers would be struck by lightening for committing
their incestuous acts - but no divine justice ever happened.  A part
of her soul died way back then - only to be rekindled now, with her
son.  There was no god, at least none that existed for this somber
woman.

"You are the best that I've ever experienced mom - damn that felt
good!"

Teresa could not help herself as her happiness at the proof of her
intentions and its result quickly showing on her face.  Something else
was revealed to her closely-watching son, that his mother was getting
a little embarrassed.

Soberly, James asked his mother, "How you feeling... down there mom?"
He had nodded toward her lap and Teresa knew exactly what he was
referring too.

For the first time in her memory, Teresa felt her face turn red in
embarrassment - knowing what her son's question could lead too.  And
the embarrassing thing was, she wanted it to lead to that as well.

"It is still a little sore."  It was, but it certainly felt hot and
wet down there regardless of the lingering pain of her beating a week
before.

James playfully pushed out his lip - pouting until his mother suddenly
laughed.  "Honey!"

He laughed with her, "Give me a break mom - since last week I can't
think of anything else but that sexy cunt between your legs!"

Teresa's laughter died at his common words - reminding her how awful a
thing it is for a son and his mother to do the things they had already
done.  Let alone what both were not contemplating.

James saw it as well and saw that it was another opportunity to mold
his mother to his will.  "You don't like me using that word do you
mom?"

She suddenly felt guilty but admitted, "No honey.  I'm sorry."

"I love you mom - do you think I would treat you like some slut from
the neighbourhood?"  She did not have time to answer, but felt it in
her heart that he would never treat her so commonly.  "I use those
words because being able to use them with you, 'cunt', 'cock', 'blow
job', make me feel closer to you in some way.  Intimate."

James was laying it on thick and his triumphant smile had to be forced
into a soft, almost sweet, smile.  "Only when we are alone could I use
those words with you," he allowed his hand to slip down between his
mothers thighs to cup her denim covered crotch, "its like our little
secret!"

Teresa felt her sadness disappear and only her earlier happiness
remain.  She playfully blurted out, "I loved sucking your cock James!"

Mother and son shared a lengthy laugh before simultaneously diving
forward into a very passionate kiss that would last Teresa the rest of
her life.

 -*-

Teresa sat above her son, straddling his hip as she moved slowly up
and down.

It had never been like this - James wanted to make fucking his mother
last, he wanted to watch her while he did it.  His endurance was
amazing to the middle-aged woman, his powers of recuperation exciting
- never before had a man made her feel so alive, so sexy, so loved.

"Lean over mom - feed me those titties!"

Teresa dropped down so that her hands straddled her son's head and
moved her torso so that one of her nipples came directly to her son's
open mouth.  An involuntary groan escaped her lips and she felt
another twitch of pleasure inside her vagina.  Few, if any, of the men
that had used her mouth had used her in any other way - and none, most
certainly, had ever thought about her pleasure.  So what her son was
doing to her was beyond imagination.

Her 'cunt', as James liked her to call it, had never been so
pleasured.  In fact, Teresa had never known how electrified sex could
be - how orgasmic she could be.  The only orgasms she had ever known,
before James, was by her own hand.  Yet her son seemed to be able to
give her one at a whim, it amazed her.

There was something else that helped in their relationship - Teresa
found that when she gave up all pretence at 'choice', at having a will
of her own - that her loving son took care of her completely.  She
consciously realized that, sexual speaking, she found the most
pleasure when she allowed her son to 'own' that part of her.  In
essence, she was his slave - his slut - and it gave her only joy.

James moved his mouth to the other teat and sucked that nipple into
his mouth while both his hands fondled his mothers generous soft ass.
The old slut had come to him willingly, had allowed herself to be his
toy with nothing but pleasure as its reward.  It surprised him at how
passionate she was for him, how easy it was for her to be pleasured by
any command he gave her.  Just last week, after he lay sated, he
jokingly told his mom he wanted her to orgasm one more time - eagerly
she awaited his instructions, then using his big toe as instructed,
moving his foot back and forth between her sweaty thighs, his toe in
her cunt like a stubby little cock until she orgasmed yet again.

They only fucked in his room - his father never invading that area of
the house.  Yet it was how his mother now treated him when his father
was around that he feared would cause their discovery.  She looked at
her only child with something akin to awe as if he were a god and she
only awaited his instruction.  When alone, this was a rather agreeable
reaction from his mother but she also did it even his distant father
was not blind.

Every week, her son brought her gifts which he gave her at the
beginning of their Friday nights together.  Last week it had been
white thigh-high stockings, which she now wore as she fucked her son.
This week, it had been a small vibrator, which she had read about but
had never seen much less used but after opening his gift she eagerly
spread her legs and masturbated before her son with her new
battery-operated toy as he had requested.  That look of love mixed
with lust was like nourishment to her now and Teresa could not imagine
life without it.

When James slide his middle finger of one hand into his mothers rectum
she groaned loudly, which he soon echoed.  Teresa knew her son
intimately now - knew the signals that foretold the inevitable orgasm.
Knowing too that her rear passage was something, when enjoyed, her
son's orgasm would not be far behind.  Only once had a man been 'back
there' when her husband had half-raped her very-pregnant body, leaving
her ass torn and bleeding so that she had feared another such
encounter.  With her son, though, Teresa found that she was empathetic
to her son's anxious pleasure 'back there' so that she found herself
greatly enjoying his anal attentions.

It was more proof to the middle aged woman that she was made for him -
that there was no one else alive that should be simpatico, happy.  It
was like the vibrator - she would never consider masturbating before
anyone else, even the thought of it put disgust and fear in her heart.
Until her son came sexually to her, her private desires were the only
place that she had any escape.  But when her son asked she eagerly
found herself slipping two of her fingers in and out of her 'cunt'
while the vibrator was used to tickle her clitoris.  There was a god
and he had brought her son to her - nothing else mattered.

Teresa felt it - the head of her son's cock enlarge a second before
every muscle in his body froze.  Perhaps two seconds later James
groaned like an animal in pain about the same time that his mother
felt his seed shoot into her womb.  It brought about another of her
own orgasms and her squeals of pleasure was mixed with her son's
grunts.

 -*-

Months later, his father confided in his son that he knew that Teresa
was getting 'boned by another dick' while at the office one afternoon.
James stood silently, to see if his father knew it was him.  He
didn't.

"How do you know that dad?"

Furious, the old man faced his son so vehemently that James
involuntarily took a step back.  "A husband knows these things boy!"

He knew enough not to argue with his father - and he could see that
beneath the surface a barely contained rage boiled within him.

"I am going to keep an eye on her and when I find out who is sticking
it to the skank I'll do them both!"

The son was wise enough not to ask what 'do' interpreted to mean.

 -*-

As it was, it was not until the next Friday evening that James had a
chance to talk to his mother alone.  She listened silently, soberly,
her face very pale.  He sat across from his mother scared as though
his father was watching.

When James was finished talking his mother coldly stated, "I don't
care."

What?  James felt his anger rising - did not care that her husband,
his father, was so mad that he may end up killing one or both of them?
If she was not scared for herself, which made no sense to him, why was
his mom not scared for him - whom she professed to love so
passionately?

"Your father can't hurt me any more James."

"What?"  He could not hide his astonishment from his face.  His father
had fists of steel and his son knew he could hurt any human alive if
angered enough.

"He is powerless now - don't you see that my love for you has
diminished him in my eyes?"

"But mom...?"  James was so astonished that he could not find the
words?  What had he created?

She nodded her head stubbornly, "He can hurt my body honey - but he
can never hurt my heart or soul every again.  They belong to you!"

For the first time in his life, James realized how manipulative and
monstrous he had been.  His playing with emotions and weak minds of
other ladies had been nothing to the subjugation of his own parent.
She had coupled love and trust in with her lust so that her submission
was not a thing to so easily given up.  Here was the first woman that,
he now knew, to be fully his slave - she would do anything for him.
And it scared him at what he had created.

 -*-

On the next Tuesday Teresa called her son at work and told him not to
worry - that she loved him and that it would be all over soon.  She
explained that she had left his father some fabricated 'evidence' to
find.  Seconds after he hung up the phone his father stormed past him,
jumping into his truck and tearing down the road.

James sat at his desk for nearly an hour before jumping into his own
truck, to race home.  In his mind, he saw only blood and pain.

Before his home was a multitude of red and blue rotating lights and
seemed to reinforce his fears.  It was a nightmare of official faces
and names, a police officer leading him to the back of an open
ambulance.  There lay his mother, with plenty of blood across her
cheeks and jaw, but with only one swollen blackened eye.

When Teresa saw her son standing almost in stock above her, she smiled
and then whispered, "Its not my blood James."

James looked around at the other faces, most trying hard to not look
in his direction before he saw a second ambulance gurney coming out of
his home, a shrouded body on the top of it.

Teresa saw his look as well and she soberly spoke, "Its over James -
we are free!"  She reached out and took her son's limp hand.  She
could not tell him that there was nothing standing between them from
loving each other for ever - but could not with so many witnesses.
She did not even look at the shrouded body.

The shrouded body had blood soaked through the white sheets, all about
one area.  There was a large round almost-black spot on the circle
directly over the hidden bodies crotch.

Somewhere in the crowd James picked up a male voice, "Do that to a guy
when he is hard and he bleeds out like a fountain!"  James felt sick
and light-headed when he realized what had happened.

In terror his gazed returned to his mothers and he felt his soul
freeze - he had made her and now he could never hurt her by letting
her go.  Did he not tell her weeks before that only she could stop the
abuse - well it appears that did an effective job.

James realized that he was as much his mothers prisoner as she was his
slave.

--


