At fourteen Paul hated his family. All the fun things he wanted to do he couldn’t. Anything enjoyable was strictly forbidden by God and by Grandfather, especially by Grandfather. He couldn’t go to ordinary school like other kids, he couldn’t play with a lot of the neighbor’s kids; ‘too worldly’ mom said. What on earth did that mean?

By eighteen Paul had realized that he only needed to hate his Grandfather. He was the Patriarch of the family, so he ruled everything and everyone with a rod of iron and God’s Word. Though it often seemed that Grandfather ruled God as well since God always agreed with whatever Grandfather said. Understandable, since Grandfather was Pastor of their church. Simon, Paul’s father, followed Grandfather’s orders, and his mother, Faith, had to obey the men as she was a good Christian wife. Paul could never understand those TV sitcoms where the wife wanted a blue carpet while her husband wanted green, but they somehow ended up with a blue carpet along with the canned laughter. In his family the men, particularly Grandfather, were in charge. The carpet would have been green.

Paul was home-schooled, so he did not attend an ordinary school, though he did get to meet other Christian boys at Sunday School and at Bible Camp during the holidays. Up to age twelve, boys and girls had been together in Sunday School, after twelve they were in separate classes. At twelve he didn’t mind; girls were silly. By fourteen he was starting to miss them and the interesting shapes they were beginning to develop under their clothes. By eighteen he definitely missed having girls around. Most of his friends, all Christian of course, had sisters at home, but Paul was an only child, so no sisters. He made sure to visit his friends with pretty sisters as often as he could.

Mathematics provided an escape for him. Paul had a definite talent, so his parents paid for a special math tutor for him. Faith taught him all the other subjects, but she didn’t know enough math to teach him all that he wanted to know. With the extra help he was able to get a full scholarship to a worldly college, one where his degree would be worth a lot more than one from the Bible College Grandfather wanted him to attend. Even with the limited internet access he was allowed, Paul could see that Bible College was not the right way for him.

He had a major argument with Grandfather about attending a worldly college, one with a good Mathematics Department. His parents both tried to dissuade him, but he could see their hearts weren’t in it. They had to make the right noises to placate Grandfather, but they knew how important math was to their son. Grandfather, being as he was, had Paul expelled from church for no longer being one of the elect. By this time, Paul didn’t mind too much. He would miss some of his friends, but he was going to have to make new friends at college anyway. Even girl friends!

His parents stayed in contact through Uncle Gideon, mom’s brother, who was the gray sheep of the family. Gideon indulged too much in ‘levity’, definitely not something Grandfather approved of. He even missed the second service some Sundays!

Paul’s first semester at college was difficult. Not the math, he was in the top third of his class, but the social side. Girls! No, that was wrong, calling them ‘girls’ was a big social mistake, they were women. As well as women there were all the different kinds of Christians. He joined the Christian Society and was amazed at how many different ideas were being discussed. Back home, Grandfather told everyone what to think and that was it. In college there was far more discussion, and all too often no fixed conclusion, just an agreement to disagree. Grandfather would never have allowed that; everyone had to agree with what Grandfather told them. Grandfather’s God was very rigid, like Grandfather himself. In College, God was far more relaxed and accepting of differences. Paul much preferred the College God.

He loved mathematics, but Paul soon saw that there were only a few well-paying jobs in math. He kept math as a Minor and moved into Computer Science as his Major. It wasn’t as interesting, but it offered many more career opportunities as a developer or programmer. He could always fall back on math teaching if computing didn’t work out.

It did. He left College with a good degree and a job at a company he’d interned with. Nothing flash, mostly back-end database programming. Someone else, someone with a lot more artistic talent, designed the front-end screens that the users saw.

He’d met a few women, many through the Christian Society, but he found it awkward with them in social situations. He could discuss math with the women in his math class and theology with the Christian women. Outside those two topics, conversation was a lot more difficult for him. He made some women friends, but no-one serious. It was the same at work, friends but nothing more. Not that there were many women at work, the programming section was heavily male, filled with geeks. At least Paul wasn’t as geeky as some of his colleagues.

Everything changed one August. Paul was twenty-six and well established in his job. Still single, he had a social life but nobody significant. Certainly no-one as significant as Lorraine back in college. Then the message from Uncle Gideon came:

Paul,

Some very sad news I’m afraid. The Lord has taken your father and grandfather. There was a bad auto accident. Your grandfather passed on the spot while your father left us the next day from the hospital. I will let you know as soon as I have the date for the funeral.

Gideon.

He went home for the double funeral of course. Some of the Church people shunned him, others didn’t. Mom didn’t. She wasn’t in a good way, still in shock at losing her husband and father-in-law so suddenly. Paul had got used to being taller than Faith, but she seemed to have shrunk even more after the shock. Uncle Gideon agreed to keep in touch, and let him know if he needed to visit. Paul couldn’t give up his job so abruptly, and changing to remote working would need planning if it was required. Maybe mom would settle down in time?

Two months after the crash it was evident that Faith was still too distressed to cope. Uncle Gideon was some help, but he had his own family to look after. He told Paul that he should give up his job and move back to help his mother. Money would not be a problem.

Gideon had been looking after Faith’s finances and he knew that she could easily support her son for as long as needed. The family had moved into the area after the Civil War, and bought land. Some they farmed, the rest they rented out. They did well and carried on buying land, mostly for rent. By the 1950s they had branched out into investing in the stock market as well. After Paul’s expulsion from the church, Grandfather had disinherited him, and made Simon do the same, so all the money that would normally have come to Paul had gone to Faith. With the two deaths, Faith was worth over fifteen million dollars, with a good income from rents and dividends.

Once he realized the situation, Paul gave his notice, took all his accumulated leave and moved back in with his mother.

He was shocked at how bad she looked. She’d lost weight, her dark hair had lost its shine and one look at her eyes told him she hadn’t been sleeping well since the crash. She’d been to the doctor who had prescribed her some sleeping pills, but they didn’t seem to be helping. She got to sleep, but was like a zombie in the mornings.

“Why don’t you try sleeping without the pills for a few nights, mom?” Paul suggested.

“Oh no, I couldn’t do that. The doctor said I have to take them.”

“Try it mom. It’s been months. You don’t want to get addicted.”

“OK Paul, if you say so.”

Stopping the pills reduced the zombie effect, but it was more difficult for Faith to get to sleep, so she was tired instead. Better than being a zombie, but still a problem.

After three nights without the pills, they were talking at breakfast. “Did you sleep any better last night, mom?”

“Not really, Paul. It’s difficult for me to get to sleep, I’m not used to sleeping alone in that big bed.”

“Would it help if I ... if I sort of moved in,” Paul suggested. Hurriedly adding, “Just to help you sleep of course.”

“It might help. If you don’t mind sleeping in the same bed as your old mom.”

“Old? You’re the youngest mom I have,” Paul joked, managing to raise a small smile from her.

That night Paul stripped to boxers and a tee. He knocked on Faith’s bedroom door and waited for her to tell him to come in. She was in bed already with the covers pulled up to just below her neck. He could see she had a blue high-necked nightdress on. “Hello Paul.”

She had turned back the bedclothes to her right to show her son which side she wanted him to sleep. Probably that was the side his father had used. He got in carefully, being very sure not to touch Faith. “Goodnight, mom. God bless.”

“Goodnight dear.” She pecked him on the cheek and turned off the reading light on her nightstand. “Sleep tight and God bless.” He wasn’t ten any longer, but he appreciated the thought.

Unfortunately for Paul, he didn’t sleep tight. He was used to sleeping on his own, so every time Faith changed position he woke up. Usually he was able to get back to sleep reasonably quickly, but about four in the morning she seemed to be having a dream and her legs started twitching. He took about an hour to get back to sleep after that.

Faith slept through and was feeling less tired at breakfast. Paul kept quiet about his bad night. Perhaps he would get used to sleeping with someone else in the bed? Married people seemed to do it easily enough.

The next night he was tired, so he slept better. By the third night he was more used to having his mother sleeping beside him so he only woke up once, briefly, and went straight back to sleep. Both of them were a lot more rested at breakfast. Faith was no longer a zombie and had caught up on her sleep. She had even put on a little weight. Paul was glad that she was improving.

The problem started on the fifth night. Paul was having one of those dreams. This one was more real than his usual erotic dreams, a lot more real. He was in bed with a woman – he couldn’t see her face as he was behind her – and he was thrusting at her smooth body, working his way up to a climax. Suddenly...

Faith woke up. It was early. These days that was unusual, she had been sleeping a lot better lately with Paul next to her. Then she realized; Paul was rubbing himself against her behind, the way Simon sometimes did. She knew what that meant and she had to act promptly to stop Paul sinning by spilling his seed. She quickly moved away from her sleeping son and shook him. “Paul! Stop!”

Paul’s dream-woman faded away as he woke up. Groggily he began to realize...

Oh no! Mom! He’d been rubbing himself against mom’s ass and had woken her up.

“You mustn’t do that Paul,” she told him gently.

She seemed calm, not angry. Why was that? Surely she should be angry with him. “Sorry I woke you, mom,” he apologized.

“That’s better. I know you were dreaming, but even so ... Go back to sleep now. We can talk in the morning.”

Paul went back to sleep. Faith pretended sleep, but she was thinking. Simon had suffered from the same problem as Paul – probably all men did. With Simon, there was an obvious solution, after all she had been Simon’s wife. Paul was her son. Could she... ? A mother had a duty to help her son avoid sin. It wasn’t as if he could stop his dreams, Simon hadn’t been able to. Surely the Lord would forgive her for helping her son the way she had helped her husband. Simon’s father, Paul’s Grandfather, had said she was one of the elect, so no matter what she did that would not change. Yes, she would help her son. With that thought in mind she relaxed and fell asleep.

As Paul showered the next morning he wasn’t looking forward to breakfast. Surely mom would be mad at him for what he’d done. He decided to offer to move back into his own bed.

Mom was normal at breakfast; waffles, coffee and a little light conversation. Nothing was mentioned about his dream until after the table was cleared and the dishwasher started.

“Sit down Paul. We need to talk about last night.”

“Yes, mom.” He sat at the breakfast table, waiting for the storm to break.

Faith sat opposite her son, paused and took a breath. “Do you know why you’re an only child?”

That threw Paul; it wasn’t anything like what he’d been expecting from her. He took a moment to compose his reply. “Dad said you had a problem when I was born so you can’t have any more children.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Faith looked sad at the memory. “After that happened your father stopped having marital relations with me for a time. Since marital relations are intended to produce children, and I couldn’t, he stopped. He felt that it would be wrong if no child could result.”

“I’m sorry mom,” Paul said. It was obviously a difficult subject for her.

“Well, because we weren’t having marital relations any more, he had the same problem you had last night. The pressure would build up, so he would have a dream like yours and spill his seed.”

Understandable. Simon had been in his early twenties when he’d married Faith, and Paul had been born eleven months later. Simon would still have been a young man, younger than Paul was now.

Faith continued, “We couldn’t let that happen, so we decided that I would relieve the pressure for Simon whenever he needed it. We couldn’t have any more children, but neither could we allow Simon to sin by spilling his seed.”

Paul had a wild thought. Was Faith going to suggest... ? No, surely not. She wouldn’t do that. Not in a million years!

“I’m your mother, so it is my duty to help you to stop sinning.”

“Mom! You don’t mean... ?”

“You’re still a young man, Paul. The pressure will build and you might sin. Onan was slain by the Lord for spilling his seed. We need to make sure you don’t sin in the same way.”

“But ... you’re my mother.”

“Yes I am, and it is a mother’s duty to guide her child away from sin and towards the Lord. I will help you avoid the sin of spilling your seed.”

Paul could hardly believe what Faith was saying. “You’re sure about this, mom?”

“Yes I’m sure. I will relieve you tonight, before we go to sleep. In future let me know when the pressure gets too much and I can relieve you again.”

Paul sat silent, unable to think of anything to say. What Faith was proposing was unthinkable, yet she was sitting there calmly suggesting it.

“When Simon was your age, he needed me to help him three or four times a week,” she told her son. “Do you think that would be about right?”

“Y-yes mom.” Paul needed to think hard about this.

He spent most of that day thinking. Yes, spilling his seed was a sin, it was there in the Bible. However, in College some of the other Christians had said that it didn’t count as a sin if you were dreaming, so not acting consciously. Obviously Faith would disagree with that and the Bible said that he had to respect and obey his mother. That was another thing, Faith had always been more active in the house and with raising him and teaching him; Simon had been away at work most days. He was sure she would see this as something she should be doing to help her only child. He didn’t want to disappoint her, especially not now while she was still so fragile after being widowed so unexpectedly.

Faith didn’t have Paul’s worries. She knew it was her God-given duty to protect her son from sin, and she would do whatever it took to do that. Simon’s father, Paul’s Grandfather, had made it clear that her duty was to her husband and to her son before herself. Now that Simon had passed, her duty was to Paul. She had protected Simon from sin and now she would do the same for her child.

That evening Paul knocked on Faith’s bedroom door as usual.

“Come in dear.”

Things were different. She was on top of the bedclothes in an ankle-length pale pink nightdress, her shoulder length brown hair hanging loose, and there was a dim light on her nightstand.

“Is that my old nightlight, from when I was a kid?” Paul asked, surprised.

“Yes dear. We need some light to do this properly, but the reading light is too bright.” She smiled, “Your old nightlight worked first time.”

“Erm ... how are we going to do this, mom?” Paul wasn’t sure how to play this, so he passed the ball to Faith.

Having been given the lead, Faith took charge. “Lie out on the bed, Paul and slide your shorts down.”

While he did that, she reached for a small tube of lubricant on her nightstand. “I used this with your father. I think it should still work,” she explained to Paul as she put a little of it on her hands.