Chapter 2

I still controlled what mother wore about our home - yet had stopped at insisting that she always be in the same room as I. She had never tried to jump ship or to call one of her male friends to come rescue her. Did this mean that she was submissive and questioning her own relationship with me? Unconsciously, did she start to wonder if I was not like other men that have used her - that she was more important to me than a single nights lay?

Weeks after arriving back at my house the place had taken on some of its earlier splendour. Reminding me of the home I grew up - orderly, clean and quiet. Most of the stains had come out of the rugs and we had to refinish the hardwood floors because of all the cigarette butts, washed and painted the walls and we had to throw out so much that we hired a contractor to come pick up the garbage three weeks running.

Mother has lost almost all her clothing - thus our shopping sprees lately. She had also lost her bedding and mattresses - having only recently been replaced. I found a huge amount of sexual toys and paraphernalia that I threw out regardless of the temptation to keep a few. I found some eight millimetre video tapes that were labelled 'Martha does... ' - all went into the garbage after I destroyed them without a single look.

Mother had turned into a homemaker again - if only while she considers how serious I was about our life together... even if there was to be one. She cooked and cleaned for most of her day and I had her work out in the basement gym for ninety minutes each morning. She stopped smoking and ate the meals she cooked. Her body started to have a little more colour to it, and did not look so emancipated - mother was starting to look sexier than at any point in our lives.

She wore the clothing that I chose for her each day - or sometimes she wore nothing. Mother never complained or even questioned a single article of clothing - from impossibly high heels to ugly over-sized sweatpants to the many styles of stockings that we had purchased together. There was often days that all she wore was stockings, heels and her kitchen apron.

Nudity, you see, had suddenly been a non-issue between us. Since that day I arrived back home and found her sleeping in her, and at least two other men's, filth - her naked body was a natural sight. That is not to say that I did not enjoy the view - on the contrary, I openly appraised her nudity at my whim. I would even order mother to stop in whatever she was doing and lift her arms, turn around and touch her toes and once I asked her to bounce on her bare feet so I could see her enhanced chest bounce. She never blinked twice about any of this - hell, she seemed to actually enjoy it almost as much as I did.

There was another incident, about this time, that is worth revealing. It involves mother and the washing machine in the basement.

Having just completed my workout, I wrapped a towel around my neck and started toward the stairs when I saw some movement through the open doorway to the laundry room. I suspect this was another of her tests - that she planned this to perfection.

The washing machine was on the spin cycle and as many of you realize, the metal box was vibrating rapidly on its feet. There, standing facing it, was my mother, pressing her denim covered crotch against the edge while leaning over it, on her elbows. I could even see the movement of her ass, as she clenched and thrust herself against the hard machine beneath and before her. With the loud sounds of the washing machine I could just make out mothers sighs and gasps of pleasure.

Uncertain how to handle this and actually started to back up, to let mother have these few minutes to herself. You must realize that mother was getting fucked numerous times a day by many different cocks, often more than one at a time - and now she she not even seen a dick since that day I arrived. And up to a week before she had never even been alone, even to do her toilet, so she could not release the pressure that had to be building up. All her sex toys had been thrown out and so her options were limited.

Yes, she had earned her privacy and even a little respite from her passions.

I was almost at the stairs when it occurred to me that she was humping the washing machine to get off but the main reason was so that I would catch her. If she wanted to masturbate, she could easily do it at night, in her own bed. Like I do, if truth be told. No, what I had just witnessed was a show put on just for me by my loving mother. Another test of our relationship, another shove against the boundaries that we now find ourselves within.

With only a few strides I came up directly behind her. With the loud machine and her own sighs of pleasures she had not heard me. "Mom!" I half shouted it and mother jumped as if in surprise.

She spun around, her face sweaty and red, "Oh honey... I was just doing some laundry."

"Yes I saw how you do laundry mother."

For a second I actually thought the timing of my catching her had been an accident, but then I saw the corners of her mouth turn up in a small private smile and knew that I had been correct in my earlier assumptions.

I took her forearm and dragged her from the loud room, and pointed her to the stairs up. "Go up to your room mother - get undressed and wait for me."

A wide triumphant smile came to her lips but turned sweet and loving rather quickly, her eyes glinted hungrily. "Of course honey." On the tips of her toes mother ran up the stairs, her pleasure obvious even in the movement of her ass.

So I went up to my room, mothers old room if you remember, and took a long hot shower and thought about what I was about to do. Her little episodes of rebellion, or tests as I liked to think of them, were coming less since I had to spank her after the saleslady debacle. Perhaps she was changing her tactics to a more subtle approach.

Mother looked at me with hunger and triumph as I strode into her room wearing only a white terrycloth robe. She stood at the foot of her bed wearing absolutely nothing but that smile. "Where would you like me honey?" A few days before she would have asked, "Where do you wanna fuck mommy honey?" Perhaps I have been making progress after all!

"Get on the bed mom, and put a pillow under your hips."

Her tongue came out and licked her lips while she moved to comply - and was soon laying with her legs spread wide and her hands squeezing her own abnormally large breasts.

"Now masturbate mom." I moved to the foot of the bed so my view was very intimate.

"Is that what you want mommy to do for you Todd?"

I just nodded for her to continue. I must have looked much more somber than I felt.

Her hands started a slow dance upon her pale smooth unblemished skin, and her eyes slowly closed. She spent a long while touching herself like this, almost a finger-tip massage so that when she lifted her knees to run her nails over the inside of her thighs I saw how wet she had become. It had coated the hairless skin of her loins, and had already started a small dark pool upon the pillow beneath her.

Mothers hands teased her skin, moving ever toward that place between her legs. When the first hand to reach nirvana cupped her sex possessively - mother let out a ragged sigh, "Oh Todd!"

What followed was no longer a slow dance of building passion but the bawdy dance of lust. Two of mothers middle fingers on her left hand moved in and out of her vagina while the other hand alternated from wiggling her clitoris to reaching around to tease her own anus. There were erotic sounds coming from my own mother, from the sloppy sounds between her legs to the gasps and sighs from her mouth.

The sight was intoxicating and delicious, the sounds of her self-passion perfection. It was the first time I've ever witnessed any woman masturbate - the naughty thrill that it was, in fact, my mother made me feel almost drunk with desire.

All too soon her calves were bunching up as she dug her heels into the mattress - shoving her hips up to working hands. Her nipples had wrinkled and hardened like points on a missile. Her pale smooth body had broken out in a glistening sweat. She was, I realized, fast approaching her orgasm and I knew, without a doubt, what I was witnessing was no show - but real passion and self gratification.

I held out as much as I thought I could before barking loudly in the small room, "Stop!"

Mother did not even seem to notice, but keep pumping her hips up, shoving her fingers into herself and jerking on her enlarged excited clitoris. She was too far gone and I realized I may have lost my chance to win back my dominance.

"Mother stop!"

"Oh Todd!"

I moved quickly, coming around the bed and reaching down to grab both her wrists and pull them from between her legs. Mother opened her eyes suddenly but smiled dreamily and spread her knees wide for me - invitingly. "Yes Todd... come to mommy... come in mommy!"

Nylon stockings, when twisted make for a sturdy rope - if lacking in other resources. Quickly I bound mothers wrists to each post of her bed. Then I quickly did her ankles, also to the foot posts. This left her spread wide and helpless - her torso and especially her hips twisting and thrusting lewdly as they lay thrust up upon the pillow, as if an invisible lover lay between her legs.

Mother showed only a seconds frown before she only smiled and watched me as I bound her. I knew she fully expected me to climb above her as soon as she was helpless - having been used in this way often since her divorce. Then I balled up a lace panty and shoved much of it into her lovely mouth - her frown reappearing as I did so.

I stood straight up and looked down at what I had done - bound my mother helpless and gagged her. Her eyes still watched me, though they no longer fully contained expected passion and triumph.

Then I did something that was as difficult as not fingering her body after our first spanking - I turned and strode from my mothers bedroom.

Trembling, I reached my room and my bed - falling on it and opening my robe to get at myself. It took only seconds.

An hour later I reappeared before mother's helpless naked body, clothed now in my usual, jeans and teeshirt. Gently I lay myself onto her bed, on my side, facing my mother. My head lay upon her shoulder so that my lips almost touched hers when she turned her head. Her eyes no longer looked so sure of herself and seemed to almost plead silently with me.

My hand moved slowly onto her skin, teasing her breasts and stomach as I saw her do a little over an hour before. Mother responded quickly, her body breaking out in goosebumps while her nipples hardened and her breathing quickened. After masturbating twice she was hypersensitive and all too soon was thrusting her body against my fingers, jerking on her bonds as she did so.

My hand went to that place that it so much wanted to go, between my mothers thighs, and I cupped the hot and still very wet smooth skin of her loins. My fingers started to dance upon her slit - feeling her slick inner labia poke out from her thick outer lips. My touches became firmer and my fingers slipped into the channel that was both a mystery and the goal for many men. My hand was already coated with her juices and I could smell its sweet musk. Mother was humping up into my hand and could not keep her eyes open from her overpowering passion.

Then my two middle fingers slipped into her hole - to the hilt, and mother screamed into her gag so that I thought she had orgasmed already. It was not so, but just one of the peaks along the path to enlightenment. I fucked her body with my fingers, memorizing everything that that my senses touched. As I felt, saw, and smelt mothers passion rise to the point that I thought she was about to orgasm - only then did I pull my working fingers from her body. That first time I slipped them lower, into the groove of her ass and fondled her slick anus until my middle finger sunk to the second knuckle.

Mothers eyes were open again, looking at me while her body continued to respond to my hand. Her eyes looked delirious and her body shivering and wet with sweat. She attempted to talk through her gag - perhaps to beg to release, but I ignored her.

My hand slipped higher and I ground the palm of my hand into the top edge of her pubic area - grinding her clitoris against her own pubic bone. Mother's eyes clamped shut and she renewed her anxious movements.

I brought her to the brink with my hand before removing it completely from her body. Without a look at her, I rolled out of bed and left her room.

An hour later I again returned - after having ate lunch.

When my parent saw me she grunted like an animal and thrust up her loins while frowning almost angrily - the message should be obvious.

I lay again alongside of her, my hand renewing what I had done an hour earlier. This time it took much less effort before she was trembling with need, her eyes glistening as they begged for me to let her finish.

Of course I didn't - but stood and retreated from the room while she growled and grunted while jerking her bonds.

You guessed it, an hour later I returned again.

It was not my hand thought brought her to the brink of orgasm this time - but my lips and tongue. I licked nearly every inch of her exposed smooth skin while leaving that place between her legs alone. Looking at my mothers face, she looked delirious as if in a fever - her eyes rolling back in her head while her body responded deliciously. I knew that she would orgasm if I had moved my attentions between her legs so I, instead, left her alone - wallowing in her own sweat, saliva and pussy juice.

The next visit I lay next to her, mother's eyes tearing as I brought her to the brink of her passion yet again and again only to leave her alone and unsaited.

Two more such visits and mother had gone through the gambit of emotions through each of my visits. Now, as I entered, her eyes were glazed over but I saw acceptance and the flowering of lust when she looked upon me. That was what I was looking for - a submission for the control that I had over her. I brought her to the brink yet again and again I left.

The next visit was the last. Mother accepting my entrance with an expectant anxious look - love mixed with kindled love. She also noticed that I had come to her naked and I saw her surprise and confusion... and then the rapid rise of her raw lust.

I only teased her body to a point well below that of my previous visits - yet it took almost no time at all. My mother was wallowing in her passion that I realized that any aggressive touch of her clitoris of thrust of my fingers in her body would push her, finally, over that edge that she had seen, but had not been allowed to cross for much of the day.

And as suddenly as I started, I stopped, looking across at my mother's sweaty fever-looking face. "Mom?" I waited until my call pierced through the layers of lust so that she slowly responded and turned her head in my direction. "I love you mom - but you must learn that I control everything about you. Even when you bring yourself off. OK mom?" She nodded easily, her wide eyes filled with love.

Gently I removed the saliva soaked gag and helped her work her sore jaw for a moment. I moved my face close to hers so that our noses almost touched and then ordered, "Kiss me mom."

Mother stretched her neck and pressed her lips against my own. Hers were hot and warm and I could feel her desperation, her submission and her love in that single kiss.

"Again."

She again reached up and kissed me - my own help was to kiss back, my head staying steady as a rock. This kiss was better, more anxious to please me.

"Again."

Mother kissed me this time as if it was the only thing in the world she had to accomplish - the only task for her existence. It was the best kiss that I have ever received.

"Now that was a kiss mom!" Her eyes glinted with pride.

She closed her eyes as I unbound each wrist and then ankle - massaging her skin where the stockings had tightened. She would have some bruising and be a little sore for a few days - but I doubt that was something new to my mother.

"Now get out of bed mom." When I saw how unsteady her muscles were I added, "On your knees!" Mother crawled out of bed and thankfully sunk to her hands and knees next to her bed, her eyes were watching me submissively. "Now crawl to my room."

I followed her slowly moving body as it crawled the few meters down the hall, enjoying the rush of power as well as the view for the minutes it took her trembling body to make the short distance.

As she entered my room, I strode quickly past her and assumed my position at the foot of my bed. "Over my knee mom."

Her eyes looked hurt and sad as she crawled up and over my lap, again balanced with her shoulders and feet hanging in the air to either side of me. The spanking that I delivered was as painful and violent as the other two and mother wearily responded in kind, seemingly enjoying the pain. I stopped, as the other times, when my hand was numb and her ass visibly abused.

"Get off me mom and craw into my bed." She did as instructed - without a seconds hesitation. I could seem her internal battle and knew that every meter she crawled was a contest between that lusty nirvana cloud that was her passion and the reality that I represented. She climbed up into my bed, her eyes not revealing anything but submission. "Face me and roll onto your back mom." She did, her eyes watching me intently.

I knelt on the side of the bed and pulled on her slim ankles to draw her body closer to the edge. I pushed on her knees, with my hands behind her thighs, so that she spread widely a breath from my lips. "You belong to me mother - that means I say when you may have an orgasm." I leaned in and kissed the protruding bright red clitoris a single time. "You have earned this mom - so enjoy!"

My eyes closed, though I could feel my parents still upon me, as I leaned in a final time and began to deliver a slow passion-filled orgasm with my lips and tongue. I wanted it to be the best offering of my life and did all that I could to deliver it.

How can I describe the feeling and thoughts behind the first time you take your mothers cunt into your mouth - or taste her juices, feel your tongue be squeezed by the muscles within her vagina? To me, it was the height of my domination and proof that what I was doing was in the right - regardless of what you or society may say.

It took only seconds before I brought her to the brink, my tongue at that time moving in and out of her body like a little cock. Again I stopped, opening my eyes to see mother laying back - with her hands spread wide as if she was still tied up, her eyes tightly closed and her body responding how I expected. When I did not immediately deliver the coup-d-grace, mother tried to relax her breathing and just accepted what her son was doing to and for her.

Again I leaned in, this time my tongue exploring and fucking her ass hole - rimming her again to the brink of orgasm.

The final time was nothing but spectacular - as my mouth encircled the top of her vagina, my teeth squeezing that hard round clitoris firmly before letting it go to add suction and use my tongue to tease it. This technique seemed to last for less than thirty seconds before mother hit the summit that had been in sight but out of reach for over half the day.

I tried to keep my hands behind her knees and my mouth upon her sex but her body buckled and rolled about in the throes of passion, and I was unseated. It was not completely a negative thing - as I watched her go through waves of lust, screaming and panting out with something like a demonic battle within her. Mother collapsed in upon herself suddenly, falling into a deep coma-like sleep leaving me as the sole witness to the most magnificent sight I have ever seen. One for the record books.

What followed was nothing short of domestic boredom - as I sponged bath every centimetre of my mothers, now, very familiar body and carried her back to her room and her own bed. I shut off the light as I closed the door behind me.

Our lives, since my return from school, up to this point had been secluded - except for the frequent shopping trips. We lived within the walls of our home and saw and spoke only to each other.

I was winning, I knew, the battle for mothers sanity - her love. I could see it in her eyes, the acceptance and submission and her love mixed with a pinch of lust each time she looked at me. We had not spoken about my tying her up and torturing her with her own desires but we shared it frequently in small smiles and little looks.

Near the end of that week I took mother shopping again, to a sex shop at the other end of town. Mother and I strolled about the shop and purchased several toys for her, and ultimately, my own enjoyment. She was happy and excited as we drove home.

At the end of the night I asked mother into my room and she arrived, wearing the white stockings and garter belt as instructed. What I witnessed then, at my request of course, was mother using one of the large fat black dildos to bring herself to orgasm. She left, her eyes hungrily looking at the bulge in my shorts, with a content smile.

It was the next day that was the most memorable - at least to relate it here in writing. It was the day that our sanctuary was defiled, that mother was forced to revert back to that lost slut that I found weeks before. Yet it was also the proof I think she needed to show her that I meant it when I said she was mine and that I was not going to leave her. And it came about simply by my father coming for a visit.

Mother and father had divorced suddenly, at least to mom and I, as dad left her for another woman. Younger and with the large boobs that mom felt compelled to purchase to match. To be blunt, dad is a selfish bastard - he accepted mothers shameless marital submission and used her until it did not suit him any longer. To compound his thoughtlessness, he saw how mother turned into a common slut and would visit to get a piece of the pie that was being used by so many men in our town. I suspect he got something that he had had when they were married - but perhaps he could not get the same thing with his new bride and felt compelled to visit my mother. She, in her beaten mindset even accepted her ex-husbands use of her person willingly.

In the weeks since I moved back home, mother had crossed paths with boys or men that she had been intimate with. How could she not - with even neighbours on both sides having been familiar with mother? Yet, and especially in those early days, I watched her closely every time it happened. Considering that we may have to move to escape her shame and the faces of men who knew and had used her at her lowest point in her life. She had proved that she could keep her head high and, either, ignore or deny the advances from those men and a few women. That was part of the reason no longer demanded we be together every minute of the day - she had earned a margin of my trust.

Dad was different, or the exception if you will. He had been her male dominate role for half her life and she had learnt, that she had to do anything in her power to please the man in her life, to prove her love. So for nearly two decades of dominance by my father - she was powerless against that ingrained learning.

When I realized he was visiting was when I came up from working out in the basement to see him seated, like some fucking ruler of his old home, in the living room. Mother was setting a sweating glass of ice in front of him, on the low marble table as I arrived. Thankfully, it was a day that I had her wear a simple loose summer dress.

"Todd!"

Mother jerked her head my way and then blushed furiously. Dad did not notice - the world revolved around him and so he rarely looked outward. "Uh... hi dad... ?"

Dad stood up and reached across the wide marble table with an open hand - and we shook with a firm grasp.

He lowered himself back to the couch and retrieved the ice tea, "Thanks Martha!" He always spoke in a loud and boisterous voice - the loudest at any party - that was so different than my own.

"What are you doing here dad?"

He sipped his ice tea and sighed with satisfaction and did not hear a word of my question. "Did you drop out of school Todd?"

Mom stood there, to the side of dad, as if awaiting for his little finger to lift so that she may react. I started to feel the hate well up within me for dad, the jealousy of seeing my mother revert so quickly to his submissive.

"I will have to redo a few courses - but I thought I would transfer to the College here in town."

He boomed and huffed his displeasure before continuing, "No one likes a dropout son. And the College here is not nearly as recognized as the one you were attending." It was an old argument - as I had gone to the other University, in the city, because the one closer to home was not good enough.

I sat down on the chair across from dad and asked mother, "May I have a glass of ice tea too mom?" She spun quickly, thankful looking to escape the tension in the living room.

"Your mom just told me that you moved back home too?" It was stated as a question but, as normal, he immediately continued without waiting for an answer. "Gave you our old room to convince you to stay huh?" Another sip of cold tea. "Glad your here actually - I can't tell you how much better than the last time I came over your mother looks!"

I did not say a word - but I understood what he meant. Dad was visiting mother, accepting the filth and slum that she was living in just so that he could get his rocks off on the single person alive that he had total control over. I was just coming to understand the power that he felt, and knew how seductive that feeling must be. Indeed, I could not understand how he could have given it up actually - at least for the most part.

Did he return simply to taste that power again? To rekindle his dominance with the woman that he had already discarded?

I then realized that dad had not come here expecting to find me, or to find the house returned to normality and mother looking better than she had ever had. What he had come here to do was mount his ex wife, to refill his dominant urges by using my mom.

There was a moments silence when we both listened to the sound of ice being dropped into a glass coming from the kitchen. Father and I had never been close, never saw things the same way and distanced ourselves simply because we had nothing to say to the other. We did not fight, necessarily, but neither of us had any need for the other.

"Say... did you check out my new car?" He sat up and huffed before waving toward the wide open window. I could make out the roof of some sports car in the middle of the two-car parking spot. "The girls can't take their eyes off it Todd!" He laughed at his own bravado while I took the glass that mother finally brought me.

Dad sat back down, putting his empty glass back on the marble table before him. He looked at his ex wife and back to me for almost a full minute and I imagined I could hear his thoughts - about how to get rid of his son so he could fuck his old lady.

Mom was aware of it as well - looking embarrassed and not a little scared. I could almost feel her fear of the man seated before her - knowing his power over her.

What she may not have thought of at that moment was that of all her tests of our relationship since my return home, this was the most prophetic.

Dad slide sideways on the couch and reached into his overly-tight pants to draw out a ring of keys. "Say, Todd - why don't you go take the old girl for a spin?"

His choice of words startled me for a brief second and I looked up at mother - seeing her stare at the floor before her feet. I stood up and took the keys before I knew what was happening and realized, with a start, that mother was not the only one that had ingrained training. I may have disagreed on fundamentally everything with dad - I always did as he told me. To do otherwise did not seem an option.

On the other side of the coin, dad had to give a lot to allow someone else drive his middle-age-crisis-mobile.

I strode toward the doorway feeling two sets of eyes on my back - and felt as if I was carrying fifty kilograms of rocks on my shoulders. I stopped, briefly, and turned my head to look at my parents. They were as I had left them, mother standing nervously and father seated on the couch. Dad waved toward the window and his new convertible - "Go ahead boy and let all those girls know its you who is driving!" He laughed, as if to boost my somber mood, then gave me a thumbs up.

Mother looked almost in tears - defeated, scared and sad.

The car started up with a loud rush of fuel injected power and when I just kissed the gas it roared. The car was a BMW Z3 and it was a very fine car!

I sat, reeving the motor while staring at the house. Was mother on her knees already - sucking on dad's dick? Perhaps he had only had her lay upon the marble table, flip up her loose summer skirt, comment that she wore no panties and then began to vigorously fuck her?