Chapter 2

May 5, 2017 (Friday)

Dear Ms. Diary,

I had to have a little discussion with Mom about her overreaction to her agreement to our “contract.” I explained to her that I was more than willing to be subject to her discipline about anything other than her control of anyone’s sexual life, but that she did not have to balance that lack of control by being more controlling of me than before our contract. When I mentioned that Dad would certainly notice any abrupt change in Mom’s behavior toward me, she closed her mouth, nodded, and walked off. Sometime later, when Dad ducked off to the bathroom, I went to Mom and hugged her.

“Mom, I still love you very much, though you hurt me pretty badly. I truly want no changes in our lives other than...”

At first, she was stiff when I hugged her, but she relented and put her arms around me and squeezed me tightly, whispering in my ear, “Mistress, I’m sorry for hurting you and your father. No, I haven’t told him. However, it’s going to take a little time for me to get back on balance with what are radical changes in my life. Please hang with me. I do love you so very much, though sometimes I forget how much you’ve grown. I guess you’re not just my little girl, anymore.”

I admit that my eyes filled with tears; I squeezed her back tightly.

“Supplicant, you will endeavor to record any conversations that you have with Dad about the clothing-optional policy. At your earliest convenience, with consideration for the need to keep our secret, you will play such recordings for me.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

The rest of the evening was better, and, discretion being the better part of valor, I went and spent the night at Rhee’s. I did not tell Rhee about recent events in my house. I probably will at some point, but that point is almost certainly well down the road.

May 6, 2017 (Saturday)

Dear Ms. Diary,

Mom sent me a text this morning that read “5^th, N.” I smiled because I think last night was the first time that Dad got some loving since that fateful April 22^nd. I wonder if Mom initiated it. If so, it might indicate that her mind is allowing her to be sexual, now that she’s paying for her mistake. Here’s to better days for him. I then recorded the data in a little notebook where I keep track of the percentage of “Y” days.

May 7, 2017 (Sunday)

Dear Ms. Diary,

Mom texted “6^th, Y.” Damn. I missed out.

May 8, 2017 (Monday)

Dear Ms. Diary,

Before Dad got home from work, Mom came to my door, knocked, and asked to enter my bedroom. I was naked, as I often am behind my closed door. I considered various things quickly and then responded.

“Come on in.”

Once she opened the door and saw me lounging on my front on my bed reading, she did a minor double take, then caught her breath.

“Um, perhaps I can come back later,” then added a hasty, “Mistress.”

I noticed two interesting things. The first was that her phone was in her hand, the second was that her eyes seemed to be focused on my ass.

Figuring I knew what the first thing meant, I responded, “Now is good. I’m usually nekkid as a jaybird in my room. I guess I’ve been practicing for ‘clothing optional’ for years. I assume you have a conversation I should hear.”

“Yes, Mistress. However, if you will allow this from me as your Supplicant, but mostly as your mother, you look exquisite.”

That was so unexpected that I blushed.

“Thanks, Mom, but I think you’re biased.”

“No, Dear ... er, Mistress. Well, I am biased, but that bias has no part of my opinion.” Then she blushed, but continued, “You have lovely legs, which I knew long ago, but you also have a lovely behind. No, since this subject is at least partly sexual, I say to Mistress that her ass looks delectable.”

Her face was a bit red before she got those words out, but it turned positively crimson after.

“I guess I’ve been typically parental in blinding myself to how you’ve grown, changed. You’re a very attractive young woman, Mistress.”

I was nonplussed. Embarrassed. I hung my head to hide my blush, but Mom reached down, put her hand under my chin, and lifted my head.

“No, do not hide from it. I’ve told you many times that you’re pretty, and I think you’ve just passed that off as motherly bias. I am biased in your favor over others’ daughters, but I’ve given you my honest assessment. I think you consider Rhee to be much more attractive than you, what with her fuller figure. Well, she’s not. Yes, she has features that some men ... and women ... find more to their liking, than your slender, more-petite figure. However, remember that I won the “competition” [yes, she did the air quotes thing] for your father, who is the most attractive man I’ve ever known, and I’m sure I’ve known, in multiple ways, many more men than you have. So, as the winner, I know that there are men who truly appreciate your shape. Heck, because we’re built so similarly and have such similar looks, you could say that your father truly appreciates your shape. He certainly appreciates my shape and appreciated it quite vigorously last night. And the answer is ‘N.’”

I was again dumbfounded and embarrassed, but my stomach clenched, as did something else a bit lower. Does Mom know me that well? Mom turned back to my door and then, when she reached for the knob and found her phone in her hand, she turned back around.

“Oops. Mistress, you still need to hear this,” and she tapped the start button on the recording.

“Charlie, I’ve been thinking. Remember early in our marriage when we would go days without wearing clothes in our apartment and early on here in the house?”

“Uh, yes.”

“What would you say to instituting a clothing-optional policy for the house?”

“Umm. Well. If it weren’t for our daughter, we wouldn’t have altered what was then a de facto policy.”

“Yes, though I wonder if other factors might have contributed to changing that policy even without Beth. I recall getting pretty involved on the couch in the apartment when our daughter was in her crib in the same room.”

“Well, yes, but Beth was essentially unaware at the time, at least of the particulars of what we did. I think she’d be aware now, don’t you? I mean, what do you think her reaction would be if I were in my birthday suit sporting a woody in the kitchen?”

[Female laughter] “Yes, I understand your point, but I’ve thought for years that we might have been better off doing things differently. I think Beth does not have a particularly bad body image, but I do think she does not see herself as all that attractive. At least, she seems to pooh-pooh it when I tell her that she’s pretty. I take it that you’ve noticed that she’s not 12 anymore.”

[I did not start growing breasts until I was nearly 13.]

“Yes, I do know she’s not 12 and that she’s a lovely girl. No, a lovely young woman. And you darned well know that I know it.”

“I just wanted to introduce the subject and get your brain thinking it over. You will think about it, won’t you?”

“Yes, love. Now, how ‘bout I show you my thoughts about your lovely body.”

“I guess that that’d be okay.” [Rustling of clothing] “Come have your way with me, Charlie.”

[Various bedroom noises]

“Oops. Sorry, Mistress. I couldn’t think straight to end the recording at the time.”

Mom tapped the stop button on the recording.

May 10, 2017 (Wednesday)

Dear Ms. Diary,

I got a text from Mom, “9^th, Y (in fact, wide open).” Damn!

May 11, 2017 (Thursday)