Chapter 8: Summer Fun

The next few weeks passed by quickly and relatively uneventfully. Uneventful that is unless you are a seventeen-year-old boy, soon to be eighteen, about to graduate from high school with final exams coming up, looking at colleges and all you can really think about is the most beautiful pussy in the world waiting for you at home. Probably the only thing that saved his academic career was Cheri's period starting less than a week later.

This not only put the question of pregnancy in abeyance for the time being but slowed down their sex somewhat. Not that Evan cared about the messiness or blood; no, he was horny enough he would have crawled through a mile of shit-filled sewer pipe just to smell her asshole. No, that didn't bother him, but the discomfort Cheri felt during this time did. Cheri would have gladly spread her legs for him while having her appendix taken out if he insisted, but he could tell with the cramping and discomfort it was not what she wanted to do. He wanted to fuck her in the worst way but wanted even more to have her full and enthusiastic involvement.

Cheri made sure he knew he could have her any time, any place and that her condition should in no way preclude him from taking his pleasure when he so desired. But having said that, she appreciated the mature consideration her son and lover showed in this situation.

The first few days of her monthly period had always been difficult for her. Severe cramping combined with very heavy flows made for an extremely uncomfortable three or four days. There were times when she could barely move, the cramps were so bad. Doctors she had seen were sympathetic but unhelpful. Her periods were more severe than most women they said, but not that unusual. Heating pads, rest and over-the-counter analgesics were the only prescriptions they had for her. For better or worse at least they were predictable to the day, and once the cramping stopped the flow was minimal and the pain nonexistent.

Evan continued to amaze her with his perception and empathy. Becoming used to his role as reason giver he could be stern and authoritative but always tempered it with reason and kindness. He often ordered her to give him her opinion or feelings about certain things. She was expected to set up work schedules, pay bills, and make up shopping lists, all subject to his approval of course. Both of them knew he was allowing -- no, insisting — that she participate in their unique partnership, although a junior and at times reluctant one.

It was an act, a facade; she was running a good portion of their household but his playacting allowed her to do it. Why she couldn't bring herself to make a decision, tell someone what to do, take charge for once? She didn't know and lately cared even less than she had before. There was a time when she wondered if she needed serious psychological help. She knew she was different and that her relationship with Jack had been at times extremely unhealthy both physically and mentally. But now it hardly mattered. In the span of three short weeks the perfect man had taken control of her life and she had never been this happy before, ever!

Gone were the beatings that used to leave her debilitated for days, so too the mental abuse of constantly being told what a useless bitch she was, good for nothing except menial work and a quick cum dump every now and then. Now she was truly loved. Her young master desired and craved her body she knew intimately but it wasn't just her body he wanted. He wanted her to enjoy their lovemaking, his fingers and tongue driving her to orgasm more times than she could possibly count.

If she was just a life support system for a cunt he wouldn't do that, would he? No, he loved her, put up with her mental silliness even when it was a bit of a pain for him. He 'made' her take care of herself, keep herself clean, well groomed, nicely dressed, and sometimes very naughtily. He didn't do this just for himself, although she knew he enjoyed the way she looked all dressed up in a nice dress, high heels, hose and makeup. She knew she was more than his sex toy and arm fob, but that he liked and was proud to display her touched her deeply. Every day and every way she fell even more deeply in love with this magnificent person that at one time had been her son.

Maybe if his treatment of her hadn't been in such sharp contrast to his father's she wouldn't have been so swept away, but then again maybe not. For almost sixteen years she had lived with Jack Hill. Throughout that time he had feed her, clothed her, provided for her and the son they had made together. Even more important to her was the fact that he understood her need to be submissive. He, on the other hand, had the lust to dominate. A match made in heaven, or so it seemed.

At first it was perfect. Jack took control almost from the first date they had together. Where they went, whom they saw, what to eat, even down to what she should wear. He thrilled her with his absolute self-assurance, his commanding presence. Here was a man that knew what he wanted, what needed to be done and expected to get it immediately.

They met while she was still in high school. At sixteen she was easily one of the most beautiful girls in school as well as one of the better students. He was a junior at the local college and he immediately captured her heart when they met at the social mixer put on by the local chapter of her father's fraternity. Reasonably handsome, or at least good looking, his eyes pierced through her when they first saw each other. She was like a tiny bird caught in the hypnotizing glare of a giant snake. She couldn't tear herself away. He gathered her in like a planet capturing a new moon and in his orbit she stayed. Of course he had no problem receiving permission from her father to date her. In fact he asked her father even before he asked her. The age difference was considerable, but a fellow fraternity brother, well-spoken and asking permission this day in age? It wasn't even in doubt.

Neither was their dating. It wasn't so much that he asked her but that he told her they were going out. Even then she craved the firm leadership of a strong willed man. He was proper, respectful and the exceptional gentlemen with her always, but there was never a doubt as to who was in control. He decided where to go, what to see, and even when they were to get married.

After they were married he expected and received total obedience from her as his wife. Despite excellent grades and a desire to continue with schooling he wouldn't hear of her going to college. She would stay home and tend the home-fires. Little by little he came to control every aspect of her life making detailed lists of what was to be done on which day, what was to be served, how she was to dress. He even planned what day they were to have sex.

At first this thrilled her. Here was someone who was giving her exactly what she wanted! No decisions, no pressure. All she had to do was what she was told. Sure the sex was boring. She had been a virgin when they married, but a seventeen-year-old virgin wasn't that unusual even then, so what she expected from sex came from romance novels and late night talks with her friends. It wasn't bad really. He would feel her up, pinching nipples rubbing her legs, thighs and stomach. Of course he would kiss her, back then anyway. When he was hard, with a rather normal six-inch penis, he would mount her and pump until he came. Sometimes he would last long enough for her to orgasm before him, but most times not. Whether she had an orgasm was of no concern to him; she was there to receive his seed, her pleasure was a secondary benefit and nothing more. If she didn't orgasm she was disappointed but knowing she pleasured him was enough.

She became pregnant very early in the marriage and this seemed to change him. Never had he been a particularly romantic sort but now he was almost cold to her. Nothing she did pleased him. If she starched his shirt it was too much, if she didn't he looked like hell and it was her fault. The house was never clean enough; the food didn't taste quite right. He was morose and sullen almost all the time.

After Evan's birth Jack took a job that required him to travel quite often. He would be gone most of the week and only return for the weekends or a few days during the week. His control of her continued with the lists and requirements, but now there were inspections when he returned. Every little discrepancy was noted, and if nothing was found, something was made up and he would berate her for every single one of them.

One day during their inspection tour he was strangely silent. She knew he had seen a number of items she had missed. The baby had been sick that week and she just couldn't do it all, but he hadn't said a word; he just marked something down on a piece of paper. Nervously she waited for him to explode but it didn't come. Not a word during dinner. Afterwards, nothing. She didn't understand but decided it had to be a good sign and let it pass.

After the baby was put to bed she went into their bedroom preparing herself for bed. They always went to bed together at the same time, always. Jack was standing in the middle of the room waiting for her.

"Come here, Cheri," he said without preamble. She walked over to him where he grabbed one of her arms and moved toward the bed practically dragging her behind him. She hadn't noticed it before but there were two silk robe sashes tied to the posts of their king-sized four-poster bed. Each sash had a loop tied in the end and hung down onto the bed. He lifted her arm and draped a loop from one of the sashes over her wrist and pulled to tighten the knot. Somewhat in shock she didn't resist, not that she would have anyway. Taking her other wrist he placed that through the other loop and tightened that also.

She was standing at the end facing the bed; her arms were stretched out to her sides held tight by the sashes. She couldn't move and could only see behind her as much as she could twist her head over her shoulder.

"W-What are you doing Jack?" she stammered.

"Shut up, bitch," he said rather calmly. "I bust my ass all week for you and that brat and I come home to a filthy home and a crappy dinner."

"I... I'm sorry honey! I try, I really do, but sometimes it's just too much for me." She was crying now, she didn't realize that he was so disappointed in her. I must be the worst wife in the world, she thought, he deserves so much and I'm able to give him so little!

"I'll do better, I promise! I know I've been doing a terrible job but I promise I'll do better!" she sobbed.

"Damn right, you'll do better, you lazy bitch," he hissed at her. "I'm through talking now; talking to you about your failings just doesn't seem to work so you force me to try something else." In his hand was one of his dress belts folded over.

"You're going feel the bite of this for every single thing you screwed up do you understand?" Coming to stand behind her he reached out and yanked her skirt down to her ankles. Next came her panties. Now her feet were tied up in clothing and her ass bare. She couldn't move either her feet or her arms. The feeling of total helplessness enveloped her whole body and she was surprised to find it excited her. Her cunt began to itch and grow moist just like it did during their infrequent moments of sex.

She heard the swish of the belt through air and suddenly her ass exploded with pain. She screamed as the belt hit her again and again. How many times she didn't know but it felt like the flesh had been flayed completely from her body. She had never felt such pain and it went on and on!

Finally it came to an end. Her legs felt like they were going to collapse and she wanted to, but then only arms would support her and she knew that would be painful. She could feel his hands on her butt grabbing, fingers digging in spreading her cheeks apart. The head of his penis poked her ass trying to enter her from the rear. He must have scrunched down because she felt him jab upwards and enter her sopping pussy. He was grunting and breathing heavily as he thrust into her as hard and fast as he could. Never had he been this excited with her, he rode her like some kind of animal! She felt like she was being raped but the more he thrust the more her cunt craved the attention and the friction of his plunges. With little warning he grunted even deeper and spewed into her, his ejaculation triggering the largest orgasm she had experienced so far.

That night was the start of her life in bondage. It wasn't always the belt; sometimes it was a paddle or a small whip. Handcuffs, ropes, ties; the methods differed but the result was the same. She had been bad and he punished her. Inevitably this would excite him and he would screw her, usually from behind, but sometimes he would have her suck him off and shoot down her throat having her swallow his semen thus completing the domination. Most of the time she would cum during or after these sessions. She hated the pain but the sexual release was addictive.

No, she didn't miss the pain and the mildest sexual pleasure provided now by her son was infinitely better than the very best of his father's. But sometimes she missed being tied up, the feeling of helplessness. She wondered if Evan would do that for her some day of if he would think she was some really sick pervert. She didn't think he would mind but couldn't bring herself to ask; her timidity certainly had its drawbacks sometimes!

Little did she know but that very question was plaguing Evan at that very moment. Finding out he was unable to fuck 24/7, (even a seventeen year old had to rest sometime), and Cheri being out of service for a few days, he spent the evenings when he wasn't studying for exams reading. First he read the text Dr. Black had lent him. Fascinating, he thought. It was truly amazing what some people believed was 'normal' and 'needed.'

As a clinical study of the submissive personality the book was fine. He now understood his mother's actions in the context of her individual psychological makeup. To be honest he didn't really care about the psycho-babble or her characterization as this syndrome or that one. He wanted to know what he could do to make her happy, because he knew that if she were happy he would be happy.

The whole concept of submissive/dominant was a little bizarre. He could sort of understand the dominant part; after all who wouldn't want a beautiful sex-toy/maid/cook all the time. He understood the pleasure in giving orders, although sometimes the tedium involved in the nitpicking crap was just plain boring. He just didn't understand how someone got his jollies by ordering someone to clean his toilet; well it takes all kinds! And the submissive angle: he didn't get that at all. Not being real big on taking direction to begin with, the concept of giving your life over to someone else was truly foreign to him. However there was little doubt that is what his mother wanted to do, and in fact had already done.

So he knew what she was, but did he really know what she expected from him? Oh yes this sub/dom scene could be just as demanding from one side as the other! He was expected to oversee her work, tell her what to do, and become her interface with the rest of the world. He also knew she liked to have sex, lots of sex, at his discretion and instigation. It was supposed to be his idea and his way but he also knew that under the correct circumstances she was perfectly willing to tell him what she liked and let him act on it.

So far their sex had been relatively unimaginative; vigorous and plentiful, but unimaginative. Did she want something more? The text had only hinted at the sexual aspect of Dom/sub[BM1] relationships, but nothing very specific. He had a fair idea of what some of these types were into; after all he was almost eighteen, he'd read some of the porn, seen the magazines. Is this what she wanted and if yes then how far would she want it to go? Did she want to be spanked or whipped? He didn't think he could cause her any real pain; it didn't matter if that's what she wanted; he just couldn't do it, maybe a little play spanking but none of the other really sick shit.

Obviously they needed to sit down and really discuss this. Before that, though, he needed information, real information on what, how, why and to whom. Where to go? Not to Dr. Black; asking about the sexual aspects might be a little too much. In fact they might just want to stop seeing him. You never know what he might find out and what he would do with it. But that's for later; now he needed to know more about this BDSM scene.

Somehow he didn't think the library was the place to look and those dirty little bookstores might have what he wanted but wouldn't let him in! Wait, there was one place that probably had everything he wanted and wouldn't even ask for ID: the Internet. With that thought he bounded upstairs and flipped on the computer in his room. Calling up his favorite search engine he typed in the word "SUBMISSIVE" and hit return.

The number of hits amazed him: over one million! This was far too much. Trying to narrow the search he added "DOMINATE" and hit return. Still over a million hits! Pursing through a few of the sites he quickly found out most were pay porn. That's not what he wanted, why would he want to pay for the privilege of seeing pictures of what he could actually put his hands on? No thanks! He needed to narrow it down even further so he added 'HOW TO' and tried again.

This was more like it; still thousands of hits but the sites listed came under the heading of BDSM Society or Restraints of Love League. Quickly paging through a few of the web sites listed he found exactly what he was looking for in the web page sponsored by the Couples Bonded by Love Society. One whole section was dedicated to learning what BDSM (Bondage Domination Sadism Masochism) was all about; they called it a fetish, and described in detail how to get started and how to do it safety. Exactly what he wanted! He downloaded the files and started reading.

That Friday night was when he decided they needed to sit down and talk. Exams were almost over and as a senior he only had to show up for a few hours the next week; for the most part he was done with high school. Actually there were many things they needed to talk about; her view of their relationship was only one of them. There was college to think about. Where would he go if he went? Where did that leave her, and how would it be paid for?[BM1]

Friday at dinner he told her he wanted to talk. She seemed somewhat apprehensive when he told her but as usual agreed to his suggestion. After dinner he went into the living room and sat down. Flipping on the TV he settled on the first channel on. He wasn't really interested in watching anything anyway; it was just background noise as he collected his thoughts. He would rather have helped in the kitchen cleaning up but Cheri seemed to take it as some kind of personal affront if he offered to help out too often. Maybe she thought he was subtly telling her she wasn't doing a good job. So instead of working hard to avoid helping out around the house he actually had to work harder just to be allowed to help! Quite a switch from your normal teenager!

After about a half hour, Cheri walked into the room and stood next to his chair. This was not abnormal; in fact it was what she normally did. Sometimes he would be watching TV or reading and suddenly he would realize she was silently standing there. He would have no idea how long she had been there, just that she was. Usually he would pull her down into his lap and the fun and games would commence from there, but today he didn't want to play -- well not just yet anyway -- he wanted to talk.

"Here, Mom, have a seat. There are some things we need to talk about." He indicated a chair right across from his. She sat down, folded her hands in her lap and looked down at the floor. If he had to guess what her feelings were he would have guessed she was scared. Why, he didn't know, but he was going to find out.

"Mom, eh, Cheri, do you know what I wanted to talk about?" he started.

"I assume you are displeased with something," her voice barely above a whisper. "I have done something, or not done something and now you will let me know what it is. Maybe you are tired of me and are telling me you no longer want me. I don't know what I did but can I first say I'm sorry and I won't do it again?"

"Oh Mom, quit being silly!" he offhandedly brushed away her direr predictions. "I'm not mad and I'm certainly not tired of you! If fact just to let you know your fate here in the near future I plan to screw you until you can barely walk in the morning. What do you think about those plans?" He grinned what he thought was a very evil grin and leered at her in a very suggestive way.

"As Milord wishes so shall it be," When he began talking her eyes had lifted to meet his and with his last statement she began to blush, rather fetchingly he thought. She blushed but also became a little flush. She was more than a little horny and giving him blowjobs took care of his needs but certainly not hers. She had been hot and bothered all day, actually ever since her cramps ended the other night. She had been hoping he would use her that evening but her natural pessimism triumphed when he told her they needed to talk. When a man says that to a woman, it usually means goodbye and since they couldn't exactly say goodbye yet she was sure he was going to stop their sexual relationship. Hearing about his plans for later in the evening, she felt hot and itchy. She needed a good fucking and was impatient to get to it.

"Good," he said, the semi-evil leer transforming into his normal smile. "Milord is going to want a lot of loving tonight. Your lips are sweet but that's not what I want wrapped around me tonight -- well not all night, anyway." She smiled back at him, the relief practically bursting from her pores.

"But that's part of what I want to talk to you about tonight," the smile stayed but was augmented but something else, humor, yes, but there was also determination. "I have been studying for the past few days and not just for my exams. I have been reading up on this Dominant/submissive thing." As he said it the fear returned and she looked down quickly.

Oh my God, she thought, he thinks I'm some kind of sick person, a real weirdo. I can't help what I am, she wanted to shout but instead she quietly bit her lip and stared at the floor.

"You think I'm sick, don't you?" she said softly.

"Sick? Oh God, no!"

She lifted her head and saw him looking at her. It wasn't disgusted or condescending; it was a puzzled look, or maybe quizzical would be the more appropriate description. He was looking at her like he was expecting something. When she finally met his eyes he continued.

"I've thought about this a lot in the past few days. I don't see why a submissive would be any 'sicker' than a dominant. I mean a dominant is someone who likes to control everybody and everything. Don't they call those people 'hard chargers' or 'driven'? Why would someone who does just the opposite be sick, rather than just different?"

His casual mater-of-fact attitude was quickly allaying her fears. What he was saying intrigued her. He didn't sound clinical like the doctor would have but it did sound like he knew something of what he was speaking. She knew he hadn't come to his point yet but was certainly willing to wait until he did.

"Please stop me if I say anything you don't agree with. I'm no psychologist -- shoot, I just read a little about this -- but I think we should talk about you and your needs and about how I can help fulfill them.

"First you want -- need -- someone to tell you what to do." Her head bobbed up and down slightly acknowledging what he said.

"Now we both know you could do this for yourself. You are a mature, highly intelligent woman fully capable of deciding what needs to be done. In fact I'm sure you are as smart as you are beautiful and your life is wasted here doing housework." She started to protest when he lifted both hands making a soothing motion towards her.

"Whoa there, pretty lady. I didn't say you had to do anything else, just that you could if that is your choice. Now, as I see it there are a couple of things we could do: First we could go to Dr. Black or someone else and ask for them to cure you. From what I've read it's a possibility, not a great one, but a possibility. Second, I could continue being your boss even though we both know you're doing almost all the work. I'm perfectly willing to do that even though I realize that I'm not one of those super-dominating personalities. The question is what do you want? This is not a choice between sick and normal; this is a lifestyle choice. You don't have to tell me now, it can wait."

"I want you," she said a soon as he had stopped speaking. "I have never been as happy as I have been the past few weeks. You can choose something different if you like, but if you are asking me what I prefer, I want you. I know it all sounds a bit strange -- sometimes it does to me also -- but serving you makes me complete. I don't want to be 'cured' of that.

"I know what you've been doing with me, having me do some of the thinking for myself, coming up with ideas. That's okay with me, especially if it pleases you that I do it." Pausing for a moment she pursed her lips, wrinkled her brow and continued. "It's not that I really have to have someone make all the decisions for me. It's more that I really, I mean really, want to do everything just the way you want it. The easiest way to do that is to have you make all the decisions. If you promise that you will tell me immediately, when you want something done differently, I can probably do a little more on my own. Is that what you want?"

"Part of it," he said shaking his head. Sighing he continued "I'm not a very good slave master am I? All I really want is to make you happy." Suddenly the leer reappeared, "Well, that and fuck your lights out!"

"And that brings me to another topic, sex. You know Cheri, Mom, uhh, gee you see this is part of the problem, I really don't think of you as Mom anymore. Yes, you're still the same person who washed me, clothed me, helped me grow up, but yet you're not the same. I have 'tasted of your fruits' as they say and never, I mean never want to give you up. I can't help it, but you're not my mother, not my slave nor maid. You're my woman now. I want to wed you, bed you and even knock you up. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. What do you think of that?"

The feeling of joy, happiness and a good dose of lust raged through her body as he spoke. Tears flooded her eyes and made it difficult for her to see him except through a haze. She slid to the floor on her knees and knee walked across the short space between them. Reaching him she laid her head in his lap and wrapping her arms around him as much as the chair allowed, she started crying softly.

"Oh baby I love you so much!" Emotion made it difficult to be heard clearly. "I am your woman if you will have me! You do own me, heart, body and soul. I will be here for you as long as you want me to be!"

"Great!" he practically shouted as he pulled her up and into his lap. "That's taken care of. Now there are a few other things we need to discuss. You see I read not only the psychology text about submission, I also looked up a few things on the Web about, well, the sexual aspects of submission." He actually blushed and she tried not to but still giggled which of course caused him to giggle even more.

"Well, what I mean... I guess... oh heck. Look, I read a lot about the BDSM stuff and I want to know if that is what you like to do? There's a lot more to it than I ever thought. There's bondage starting at being tied up to some really bizarre stuff. Then there's humiliation and 'water sports' and pain and... Well, you get the picture. What I want more than anything is to cater to some of your desires, at least as much as you do mine. Now if you don't like any of that, that's fine with me. Let me tell you what part of it I won't be able to do. I don't care if you do want it, I couldn't hurt you like some of the, uh, instructions say to do, I just don't think I could bring myself to give you pain."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck settling her head on his shoulder.

"It seems kind of strange talking to you about this," she was nervous although she wasn't sure why. "Strange and kind of hard so if I sound a bit, iffy or not very clear, please try to understand." She took a deep breath and went on.

"Your father like the pain," noticing his sudden scowl she hurried on, "oh not too much, well never enough to cripple me anyway. Well he liked the pain, but I didn't. He used to tie me up and spank me -- beat me really -- with a belt or paddle, sometimes his hand."

She pulled his head close and whispered in his ear as if keeping a secret from nosy neighbors, "I liked to be tied up. I like feeling helpless and vulnerable. I even like being violated when I'm that way, but I don't like the pain."

"What do you like being tied up with?" he whispered back into her ear.

"Oh, anything really. Handcuffs, scarves, rope. I have a lot of toys left over from when your father used to play with me. I can show you when we get upstairs."