tagNonConsent/ReluctanceDegradation & Redemption Act 02

Degradation & Redemption Act 02

bybumblegrum©

This story contains elements of incest, humiliation, BDSM and general sexual mayhem. If any of this offends you, please read no further. All characters are aged over 18 and are solely the product of my fevered imagination. They have no relationship to anybody in real life, alive or dead.

I would like to take this opportunity to again thank Hatsuda for his editing expertise and support.

Enjoy


*

Olivia's laughter echoed in my ears as I drove home, contemplating the implications of my mother being a major submissive. Mum came to greet me when I arrived, and her motherly hug took on rather more significance than it ever had before.

"Hi, mum, how are you?" I asked, with somewhat compromised honesty.

"Fine, thanks, honey," she replied, "although I'm surprised about your new relationship with your grandmother. You've always been quite antagonistic towards her."

"Mmm, maybe that's because I'd never taken the trouble to spend time with her and really get to know her. Underneath that rather forbidding exterior, she's really just a pussy-cat."

"Okay, if you say so, Drew. Now come and have something to eat; it's getting late."

Mum was really a very attractive woman in rather a "china doll" way. She had soft light brown slightly wavy hair that she typically wore in a layered bob sweeping around the top of an unexpectedly long neck. Pale blue eyes complemented a similarly pale skin, topped off by a generous mouth with a noticeable cupid's bow and a very slightly retrousse nose.

Mum's figure was emphasised by eye-catching curves; she used to complain that she was fat and that no guy would ever look at her a second time, while I disputed this, claiming that her curves were in all the right places and rounded out a very enticing package.

We resumed our domestic life, but now I kept a closer watch on mum and her behaviour, and it appeared that she tended to be undecided and in need of direction even more than usual. The problem was that she seemed aimless, without any purpose or direction in life. Mum had always appeared to be particularly vulnerable. Hurting her would be like kicking a kitten, and she seemed to lack the willpower or resilience to defend herself.

"Mum", I asked one morning shortly after my return, "How come you've never had another relationship after Dad died? You're a very attractive woman—I would imagine you'd be besieged by guys with their tongues hanging out."

Mum blushed. "It's not really like that, Drew. Sure, I've had offers, but I've been very choosy about my social contacts. I've got you to think about, and besides, I like my own space."

I shook my head at her. "Mum, you really don't need to worry about me. I'm old enough and ugly enough to look after myself, and there's every chance I'll go into student accommodation next year when I go back to uni. Besides, don't you miss the physical contact, the closeness, the cuddles, the kisses and everything that goes with them?"

Mum blushed again. "Drew, we've talked about you moving out before, and I wish you wouldn't. Whether I need my own space or not, it would be so lonely without you. I love to cook for you, clean for you and do all sorts of things around the house for you."

"Yes, I know, Mum—it's almost as if I'm married to you but without any of the side benefits," I suggested, taking a risk with Mum's sensitivities when I winked at her.

Mum blushed an even deeper crimson and giggled like a schoolgirl. "Drew Morris, you really mustn't say things like that. I don't know where you get those ideas."

I grabbed Mum round the waist and gave her a tight hug, feeling her breasts crush against me and her breath blow out in a gasp. "I get those ideas from looking at you, temptress," I growled and she giggled again.

"Now let me go, you big ape. I've got better things to do than fool around with you." Mum was less than wholly convincing, but I let her go and gave her a gentle swat on the behind as she walked away.

"Drew, what's got into you—you're getting very cheeky." Mum tried to be severe but the half smile on her face gave the game away and I knew she enjoyed this sort of playfulness. Now my mind was focussed on taking it to another level.

"Mum, I've said it before and I'll say it again; you are a smart, attractive and obviously very desirable woman. What's holding you back from finding someone that you can be happy with?"

She looked at me with several different emotions playing across her face. "I guess it's a question of trust, Drew. If I were to find the right person, I'd need to be able to trust him absolutely. Your father ..." here, she caught her breath with a slight sob. "I don't know whether you ever realised, but your father was a serial womaniser. He had several affairs, although he denied it to my face. The evidence was there, though. I knew what he was up to, even though he tried to keep it quiet. He always came back to me after an affair was over, usually because whoever it was got fed up with him and threw him out. He would always beg for my forgiveness and promise not to do it again. Like a fool, I always forgave him."

"You obviously loved him, mum, or you wouldn't have continued to take him back like that," I attempted to sooth the waves of emotion that were attacking her.

Mum stared at me, bitterness chasing indecision across her face. "I don't know, Drew, I just don't know. Sometimes I thought I could rely on him, and opened myself up, finding that I was totally defenceless. Then he would ..." Mum choked back another sob. "No, Drew, it's not worth raking over the ashes of the past like this, I need to ..." with which she left the room abruptly.

Mum had either told me too much or too little, and I was convinced it was the latter. Given her current fragility, I decided to leave further discussion until later. Perhaps a few glasses of wine would loosen her tongue a little.

Around lunchtime I found mum in the kitchen engaged in her seemingly endless round of domestic chores. "Hi mum," I started, "I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard earlier on and I want to make up for it. How about I take you out for a meal this evening—nothing too glamorous; there's a nice little Italian place up near the junction; what do you say?"

Mum looked at me with one of her brilliant soft smiles. "Oh honey, you don't need to apologise; I just let some things get the better of me. A meal with my favourite guy would be nice, though. Does 7.30 sound okay?"

"Fine by me, mum, but my date had better be ready on time," I teased.

"Oh you," she laughed. "I will be ready and waiting at 7.30, and no excuses from you either."

Mum was as good as her word and was waiting for me when I arrived in the lounge just before 7.30. I gave a whistle of appreciation. "Woo-hoo, Mum, you look gorgeous; is this delicious ensemble all for me?"

Mum blushed and gave me a shy smile. "Well, who else do you think it's for?" she queried.

Mum was dressed in a one-piece dress in some very fine knitted fabric in a soft oyster grey. It was cut quite high at her throat, revealing no cleavage whatsoever, and was just knee length. However, the material was very clingy and sufficiently tight that it hugged her curves, creating a highly attractive impression. She was obviously wearing hose and three inch black suede heels.

"Wow, mum, I must ask you out more often if you're going to get dressed up like this for me," I teased.

Mum smiled again, and linked her arm through mine. "It's so long since I went out with such a charming and attractive guy that I felt I needed to create the right impact."

I grinned in return and we headed for the restaurant. It was dim and quiet being a weekday evening and we had a corner table away from such crowd as there was. We ordered and started on our meal accompanied by a decent bottle of wine when I asked her, "Mum, tell me about your relationship with your mum. You don't talk about her much, and sometimes I get the feeling that you're almost scared of her."

"Drew, I remember telling you just recently that she's become more withdrawn and more selfish recently. You used the term 'bloody difficult' and I couldn't disagree with you. As far back as I can remember, she's been, well, self-obsessed and thinking back, it probably started after the twins were born. I really don't understand all this stuff, but I so needed someone that I could lean on when I was growing up. My mother wasn't really available, and sometimes my father seemed downright antagonistic."

Tears started to form in mum's eyes, and I could tell that this was probably the first time she had opened up to anyone about these issues. I realised then that a public place such as a restaurant was not the best place for the sort of conversation we were about to have, and for the rest of our meal I steered the discussion into less dangerous territory.

We were home relatively early, well before midnight anyway, and we decided on coffee and a glass of brandy with a view to finishing the evening on a mellow note. At least, I think that was how mum saw it, but I wanted to continue the exploration of mum's past and her family relationships. There was a dam there, and I thought it needed to be burst.

"Just returning to our earlier conversation, mum, what do you think caused your father to be so antagonistic?"

"I wish I knew, honey," she replied with sadness in her voice.

"Do you think it had anything to do with your mum not being available to you?"

"Oh Drew, I just don't know. I really wish I did because it tears me apart, and I can't help feeling it was my fault."

This was the opening I had been looking for. "Mum, I know for a fact that it wasn't your fault. But are you sure you want to know the truth? It could be very painful."

"I don't care, Drew, I just want to solve this puzzle—it can't hurt me any more than I've been hurt in the past. Anyway, how do you know anything about it?"

Mum was now puzzled, apprehensive and suspicious. "Okay, Mum, one last time, are you sure you want to take the risk of what the truth may reveal?"

"Oh for god's sake, Drew, stop being so mysterious and tell me what you know, or what you think you know." Mum was uncharacteristically terse with me, but now she had opened a door which couldn't be shut again.

"Okay, mum, well the first thing to tell you is that you are not Alex Delahunty's daughter."

My mother's eyes opened as wide as saucepan lids, she turned a deathly pale and screamed in disbelief. "I don't believe you. Why would you make up such a dreadful and hurtful story, and what would your grandmother say?"

"Mum, grandmother confirmed that this was so. Your real father was actually the then Reverend John Prendergast, now suffragan bishop of the central district. You were conceived during a brief affair that your mother had with the reverend gentleman. He broke off the affair when he realised that your mother was pregnant."

Mum screamed again and burst into tears. "How could she do such a thing? How could she keep this from me? Oh my god, what does this make me?" and she wailed, one long continuous keening over her destroyed past.

I put my arms round mum and stroked her hair, making soothing sounds until she was able to return to the conversation. She looked at me hopelessly through tear blurred eyes. "Drew, I don't think I can take any more," she sobbed, but I went on remorselessly.

"Mum, this needs to come out so you can understand everything that has happened, then and now. You need to understand that your mother is actually a submissive. She needed someone she could trust to control and dominate her so that she could let herself go sexually but still feel secure. Apparently, her husband wasn't able to fill that role, and at some stage she confided in John Prendergast who tried to save mum, but she seduced him and you were the result. When Alex found out, he raped her, and your twin sisters were the result."

Mum looked at me, speechless at first, but then demanded, "So how did you find out about all this?"

"Well, in a sense, you played a role in that when you wanted to get rid of the old desk," I countered. "When I was playing around with it, I discovered some highly incriminating letters between grandmother and John Prendergast. I took those letters with me when I visited grandmother recently. We enjoyed a very interesting conversation; I won't go into details right now, but the upshot of it all was that grandmother admitted her need to submit to someone she could trust ..."

Here, I paused for effect. Mum's mouth was hanging open as a huge collection of emotions boiled through her and flashed across her face.

"Yes, well," I continued. "The outcome was that she asked me, begged me really, to act as her master so that she could submit to me and have me use her in any way that I wish to do. That was why I spent several days there—we spent the time thoroughly enjoying each other and having some really wild sex."

At these words, my mother fainted.

Again, I held her to me as she struggled back to consciousness. She opened her eyes and looked at me with a strange expression on her face. "That's the story, mum, that you insisted on hearing. It's probably better that it's all out in the open—no more secrets."

"But ... but ... but ...she's your GRANDMOTHER, for god's sake. She's forty years older than you. In case you hadn't noticed," sarcasm was not mum's strong suit, "that's incest and it's not only illegal, it's immoral, too."

"As far as illegal is concerned, mum, where's the evidence and who's going to let on? Bob Dylan put it very well once when he said, 'In Jersey anything's legal, as long as you don't get caught'. Immoral only counts if one or the other party doesn't want it, and we were both very enthusiastic participants."

"Drew, I just don't understand ..."

I jumped in, "Mum, don't try to understand, just accept what is."

"Oh honey, I am so confused—this has all come as such a shock to me and it scares me. All my certainties have disappeared and I don't know how to control my world now."

I held her in my arms as she sobbed and whimpered in her fear and uncertainty. "Mum, I think the best thing you can do is to get to bed and have a good night's sleep. It should all look different in the morning."

Mum nodded her head but didn't look convinced. She trudged slowly out of the room to her bedroom and when I listened at her door thirty minutes later, I could hear the soft snores of a sleeping woman. With that, I turned in as well.

I woke suddenly at around 2.00 am, not because of any sound but from an almost subconscious sense that there was another person in my room. There was a dark shape near the door, and when I switched on my bedside light, I could see mum standing there. She was wearing a long silky nightgown, but she had clearly been crying.

"Mum, are you okay? What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm so sorry if I woke you, Drew, but ... but I'm so scared and I haven't been able to sleep," she replied in a trembling voice.

She walked to my bedside and there was a faint smell of alcohol. I guessed she had tried to get to sleep with brandy but had not succeeded. Mum was never a great drinker, and she almost certainly wasn't drunk, but it may have affected her judgement. Her voice was still hesitant when she said, "Drew, honey, I know this is weird and very dangerous and probably stupid, but I feel so alone and so vulnerable. Would you be offended if I asked if I could sleep with you?"

"Oh god, mum, of course I wouldn't be in the slightest bit offended; I feel honoured that you would be prepared to take that chance. It is a risk, you know, mum—if you spend the night with me, our relationship can never be the same again."

"I know, honey, but nothing makes sense any more and I just need to find something or someone I can trust to hold me and protect me from the monsters under the bed," mum gave me a rather watery smile, and I held back the single sheet I was using on this warm night.

Mum slipped into bed and cuddled up to me, whispering, "Hold me, Drew, darling, please hold me close and don't let me go."

I knew that I now risked taking advantage of her vulnerability and possibly of her use of alcohol, but the closeness of her soft, warm and very inviting body was causing me to develop a quite demanding erection.

I decided to test the waters. "Mum, I've got a suggestion. It's a bit cramped in here—why don't we both go back to your big king sized bed where we'll have a bit more room and I'll check under the bed to make sure the monsters have disappeared!"

I heard mum laugh gently and she said, "Sure, honey, that sound like a good idea."

Now came the point of no return. "Good, mum, and if we do so, I'd like you to take off your nightdress before you get back into bed."

Mum gasped, then said, "I see—sounds like the monster will be in the bed rather than under it."

"Well, if you put it that way, maybe you're right. Will that make a difference to you?" I queried.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see," she responded noncommittally and left my room.

I gave mum a few minutes before I went to her room; her bedside light was on and she was covered by a single sheet.

I lifted the sheet and slid in beside her and putting out my hand, stroked my way right down her naked body.

"Drew, this is so wrong, but I can't help it. You're the only guy I can really trust, even after you admitted to seducing my mother. I do trust you, and I need you to hold me and protect me and ... ," mum hesitated and I knew enough to keep quiet while she strengthened her resolve, "and to love me," she concluded.

She turned to me and wrapped her arms round my chest, whispering, "Please love me, Drew; hold me close and make me feel safe. I know I'm your mother, and this is forbidden, but ..."

I stopped her by the most effective way I knew. I kissed her hard, mouth closed but leaving her in no doubt about my intentions. The second kiss was quite different. Her generous lips were open and hunting for my response, which came immediately. We kissed, mouths open and our tongues washed over each other in a sweet, warm moist encounter.

As we kissed, I let my hand slip down the side of her body, gliding over the soft swell of her breast and the enticing curve of her hip to the rich, full cheek of her butt. Mum sighed and hummed and her kiss became more demanding, her mouth working hard against mine in a show of mounting passion.

I broke the kiss and propped myself onto one elbow and looked deep into her eyes. "Two important things, mum. First, under the circumstances, I think it might be better if I call you Beth rather than mum when we are close and intimate like this. Second, are you absolutely certain this isn't just the brandy talking?"

"No, Drew I'm just a scared little mouse looking for somewhere to hide, and your arms are the best hiding place I could think of. Please call me Beth," she replied quietly. "That sounds so wicked but it takes away the idea that we are mother and son."

I eased over to Beth and started little butterfly kisses all over her face, then down her neck and behind her ear, which made her hum and purr. I bit her earlobe which changed the hum to a squeak, then stroked my hands down from her neck and shoulders to the swell of her cushiony breasts.

Beth's breasts were soft and smooth with large areolas now crinkled with excitement and tubular nipples that had become hard and pointing outwards as if reaching up to be kissed, sucked and bitten. Her skin was warm and silky smooth, and a delight to kiss and caress, actions which drew a series of soft gasps and deep moans from her.

Then I diverted my attention to her tits, stroking slowly upwards from underneath until almost reaching her areolas, then moving to the sides and repeating the dose. Bet murmured, "Yes, yes, more, please god, more, don't stop, oh, oh, oh, aargh, please Drew, stop teasing me and kiss my nipples."

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