Chapter 4

Chuck slept in late the next day. His body felt as if it had been swimming all night long. He was exhausted. It was nearly noon when he opened his eyes and looked blearily at his messy room. His cock felt like it had been wrung out like a rag. His mouth was dry and he couldn't keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds.

Eventually he grew more awake, and at some point he heard his mother moving around in the house. Even then his lips curled into a cruel smile. The littlest thought of her, cowed on her hands and knees, her face gorged with his terrific hard on, made his cock jerk and begin to fill with blood. If only his father could have seen them. Chuck wanted nothing more than to take his father's place, but he was secretly glad his father had been killed and was no doubt in hell. As much as he admired his father's power and ruthlessness, he hated his old man's contempt. As long as his mother had been around, he had treated his son like a king's heir, but alone he had beat him regularly for no reason whatsoever.

Chuck felt his dick wither once more. What the fuck, he told himself. He needed to piss and get something for breakfast anyway. There would be plenty of time to consider his next move on his mother.

Dorothy had not slept well at all. In the earliest light she had risen, exhausted, crawled out of her bed and looked at her face in the mirror. It was covered with light bruises. Her throat felt like a worn dirt road and was dry as cotton. She stank from dried cum and sweat. Her ass felt tender and swollen. She took a long bath, but her body refused to feel clean. It had been fully violated and forever damaged. All the horrors of her marriage had returned after only a brief interlude of false peace. A new horror preyed on her mind unceasingly. Her own son was doing the same vile things to her that her vicious husband had. There was nothing she could do but continue to suffer and pray for the day when her son tired of torturing her and felt nature's urge to leave on his own. Or so she believed. It was the only hope left to her she told herself. Still, he showed no sign of looking for work or finding a girl at school. It might be years before he sought a man's independence, if ever. What did he need of other women when he had everything he might wish from his own mother?

After many hours of such dark contemplation, Dorothy found herself sitting on their couch drenched with tears. The sun was beating on the living room curtains. She got up and began her daily rounds of housecleaning. She had nothing else.

After finishing his ablutions and a refreshing shower, Chuck found his mother in the kitchen. She was bent over the sink cleaning dishes from the night before. Her ass was just barely visible through her tattered work dress. He stared at it thinking if she would just bend down a little further... He felt his cock begin to stir. But his stomach growled even louder.

"Hey mom. What's for breakfast?" He asked brightly. He could hardly wait for her meek reply.

He was not disappointed. Dorothy tensed at his words and she gulped before answering. "Wh-what would you like dear?"

"Oh, I dunno. How about pancakes?"

"Okay Chuck." She said and turned immediately to do his bidding. Chuck sat himself at the table and watched his mother obey him. He would carefully comment on any misstep, wrecking what little confidence she had.

"Goddamn you're so clumsy. I'm hungry. Why does it take you so long to make something as simple as pancakes?"

"Honey, I'm trying. Please the griddle is still cold."

"Don't talk back. You don't have any right when you let your son starve. Why didn't you have this already cooking?"

"But you were sleeping. I didn't know..."

"You don't know anything. Look at that. Now you're going to burn the butter."

"Please don't act this way, I can barely think."

"You're not suppose to think. You don't have any thoughts worth the effort. The only things you're suppose to do are keep this house clean and make the meals around here. It's not like you have to go to work or to school. How am I ever going to escape your wickedness and laziness if I don't get a good education?"

Dorothy only cringed further, working as fast as she could under his steady stream of derision.

Chuck kept his secret smile to himself. It was going to be a great day. Already his hard on was beginning to out voice his empty stomach. But he continued to wait as he enjoyed working up a fresh state of desire for his mother's special usefulness. Pretty soon he was devouring pancake after pancake as fast as his mother could cook them. He made sure he ate every one his mother prepared.

"Why did you make so many mom? Trying to make me fat or something? Damn I feel like throwing up."

She looked dismally at the empty bowl of batter. She hadn't eaten all morning, still expecting to sit down at a nice meal with her son. Dorothy couldn't believe that even a simple thing like food would be denied her. She turned to mix some more batter.

"What are you doing?"

"I-I'm hungry, Chuck. You ate all the pancakes."

"But you left a mess. Now clean it up before you do anything else." He gave her a stern look. Now that his stomach was bloated with excess it was time to seriously indulge another part of his anatomy.

Dorothy only looked at her son with faint tears glistening in her eyes. "Y-yes dear." She began collecting the dishes utensils and filled the sink once again.

Chuck watched her every move holding back his now bursting urge to get his rocks off. All his talk to abuse his mother had turned his prick into an iron hammer. He kept looking at her torn dress peeking into the rents to catch a glimpse of her flesh beneath, but her mother commonly wore lots of underwear and now she had taken to wearing an old pair of sweat pants beneath them. It was the next thing he decided to deal with. For months he had been fantasizing about his mother's full tits and incredibly shaped ass. Now that he had taken control, he could free his fantasies to the wild.

His mother was clearing his place at the table. His brief foreshadowing smile almost betrayed him. As his mother touched his plate to pick it up, Chuck pushed it off the table. He was immediately rewarded by his mother's look of shock. She knew, he told himself. The plate smacked upon the floor and cracked into several pieces.

Dorothy pulled her hand back and straightened in sudden fright, her body already knowing what her mind would soon discover.

"Mom, you clumsy oaf! Look at that. Just look at what you did." Chuck glared at her.

"But I didn't... You..."

He cut her sentence. "I didn't do nothing!" He yelled. His eyes dared her to defy him."

Dorothy gulped and was lost in her son's spiteful face. "I-it was just a mistake. I'll clean it up."

"What good will that do?" Chuck asked angrily. "Are you going to try and glue it back together? Do you expect us to buy new plates every time you bump into one?"

"N-no, Chuck. Please..." Her face went blank with dread.

"Of course not. The only thing we have to deal with is how to make you less of an oaf! What do I have to do, beat you every time you break something? Will that fix it?"

"Chuck, no, no. You couldn't." Dorothy was suddenly terribly aware of the lingering pain in her ass cheeks.

"We have to do something!" Chuck raged at his mother. Then he said nothing, as if he was thinking, but he already had decided. He knew that his mother knew it too, but it was a game that had to be played out. He stared with silent anger. His mother shuddered from immobilizing fear.

For a long minute he threatened her silently. Then he broke the silence at the first startling moment.

"You stay here. I'll be right back." And without waiting for her reply he walked purposefully towards his bedroom. When he returned he was carrying his widest belt.

"No, Chuck, you can't." Dorothy eyes went wide. Her ass tingled with warning.

"I have to. You are so clumsy you have to be punished. Bend over that table, and remember what I am about to do. Maybe then I won't have to again." Chuck lied easily, knowing he would never cease to enjoy whipping his mother. After his first taste of smacking her ass the previous night, he knew he would have find excuse after excuse however slight, just to her her cry out at every crack of pain. But this time he was not going to let a few threads of cloth protect her.

His mother sniffled in despair and began to lower her body over the kitchen table.

Chuck stopped her with a word. "Wait!"

He pointed at her clothing. "Look at at that dress. It's a ruin. How can you possibly be so ugly? It doesn't even fit you. No wonder you can't do anything right. Take that stupid thing off!" He commanded.

His mother couldn't help but reply. "Chuck, you're my son. I mustn't."

"Fuck, you aren't good enough to be a mother. You're just making this harder on yourself. What are you trying to do, make me really angry?" He threatened her with the belt. "Take it off, NOW!"

He watched his mother visibly crumble and burst into tears, as she slowly reached for her buttons.

"Damnit, you're taking your own goddamn time again." Chuck shouted and he reached out and slapped her.

Dorothy began to bawl openly as she struggled to unfasten and peel the full length dress off of her body. Her second layer was quickly and fully exposed to her son. One again, he was staring at her her hotly as her full breasts pushed out the thin t-shirt she wore over her bra. She hunched over, fully aware of her tempting body, trying to shrink her titties into her chest. She was slapped for trying.