Chapter 6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tell me, please mother, what happened?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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