tagIncest/TabooHow to Dom Your Mom Ch. 02

How to Dom Your Mom Ch. 02

byKarenas©

I would like to thank LaRascasse for editing and my beta readers for their input. As always, any remaining errors are mine. Please vote and comment!



Stephen awoke the next morning to an empty bed and a stiff dick. He thought about the previous night, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. "I fucked my mother! My god! How could I do that?" He shook his head as if to clear it. Slowly, he got out of bed. He wanted a cup of coffee and a long shower, but he also didn't want to run into his mother right then.

He realized, though, that his mother was not home when he passed the garage door and saw her car was gone. That focused his thoughts on her reaction to them having sex. He hoped she was not feeling bad about it, even as he was. "What a fucking screw-up I am!" Stephen castigated himself.

Stephen drank his perfectly-prepared coffee but didn't taste it.

*****

Gail arose early that morning with a happy body and disturbed mind. Her body acknowledged the best sex she'd ever had, but her mind couldn't come to terms with the fact that it had been with her own son. She felt a rising wave of guilt as she looked at her precious son lying beside her. "What have I done?" she cried to herself.

She ran to her bathroom and turned the shower on full-force to drown out her crying. "What if he wakes up and hates me?" Gail couldn't rid herself of the thought. She felt the urge to hurt herself and looked about wildly for something to do the job. She saw her paddle brush and grabbed it up gratefully. She leaned over the toilet as she felt she could throw up at any moment and began whacking her ass and upper thighs with the brush. The sting began to take the place of the ache in her heart.

After several minutes, she couldn't raise her arm again. Tears, snot, and saliva streamed down her face as she tried to catch her breath. She moved into the hot shower without looking at herself in the mirror.

As the hot water began working its magic, Gail was able to calm enough that she could make a plan for the day. She would make Stephen his coffee then leave the house. Maybe one of her friends knew a divorce lawyer to recommend. She tried out her voice and marveled when she was able to speak without bursting into tears.

*****

When Stephen got back home late that night, he went straight to his own bed. He had spent the greater part of the day at the pool and the gym trying to work out the disgust and anger he felt towards himself. "It's so wrong! You're a sick motherfucker--literally! She'll never forgive me! What if she can't bear to look at me? She probably hates me!" On and on his thoughts assaulted him. The workout succeeded only in tiring him enough that the thoughts slowed down instead of coming at him rapid-fire style. Gradually, he drifted into a fitful sleep.

The next week followed the same pattern as Gail and Stephen avoided each other, each sure the other regretted their night of passion, possibly to the point of hatred. The sleepless nights and self-recriminations began to take their toll, though, and by the end of the week their friends were asking, "What's wrong?" with irritating regularity.

Jack was the most persistent of Stephen's friends. He cornered Stephen as he left the campus one day and followed him to Stephen's car. "Something IS wrong, Bro. C'mon! You know you can tell me anything."

"I appreciate that Jack, but it's okay. Don't worry." Stephen got into his car.

Jack ran around and jumped into the passenger seat. "Stephen. Seriously. What happened?"

Stephen sighed heavily. Maybe he could appease Jack with a half-truth. "My parents have split. Dad's moved out and they're gonna get a divorce."

"That's grea...I mean, sorry about that." Jack looked at Stephen expectantly. He knew that was not what was bothering Stephen.

Stephen started his car. "I, uh, gotta go, Jack. Don't you have class, or something?"

"Nah. Nothing that can't wait."

Stephen pounded the steering wheel. "Dammit, man! All right, yeah, there's something wrong! But I ain't tellin' you!" He dropped his head to the steering wheel. "I can't, Jack, I just can't," he said quietly.

Jack was disturbed at his friend's distress, but dropped it. He reached for the door handle and got out. He hoped for the best.

As a second week passed, however, Jack was driven to intervene. Stephen looked like hell; unkempt, dark circles under his eyes, skipping classes, punishing himself in the weight room and the pool. Jack decided to try from another angle, though, and went to see Gail.

Gail opened the door and gave Jack a weak smile. "He's not here" she said, not quite meeting Jack's eyes.

Jack was aghast at Gail's appearance. She had lost a shocking amount of weight and her clothes hung on her as if she were a child playing dress-up with her mother's clothes. Jack gathered Gail into a hug, closing the door behind him, and walking them into the living room. Gail allowed him to almost carry her--she felt particularly fragile upon seeing Stephen's closest friend.

Jack understood that something had happened between Stephen and Gail. He felt partially responsible and guilt settled on his shoulders. "I know he's not here. I came to see you. I'm worried about Stephen and since he won't talk about it, I thought I'd see if you knew what's bothering him."

Tears silently slid down Gail's face. She felt Jack was confirming that Stephen hated her. "Oh, Jack!" Her shoulders began to shake. Jack rubbed her back and made soothing sounds. "I do know what's wrong and it's all my fault, Jack!"

"Ahh, Gail, I doubt that. Tell me and let me help," Jack pleaded.

"I just can't, Jack! It's too, too terrible! It's unforgivable and he hates me and--and I don't blame him!"

Gail turned quickly away from Jack. As she did, her shirt rode up in the back revealing her spine in stark relief, but even more disturbing were the bruises. He could see older yellowed ones and newer purple ones, and there was a red stripe across her back as well. He yanked the shirt up, gasping in shock.

"My god, Gail! What happened to you? Did Stephen do this to you? I knew he was into spanking, but this is--this is wrong!"

Gail frantically pulled at her shirt, as if pulling it back down would make Jack's knowledge of the marks go away. She shook her head violently. "No! Of course not, Jack! How could you say such a thing?"

'Well, who is beating you? Is it that asshole you're married to? I'll kill him!"

"No, no! It wasn't him, either. It wasn't anyone. I just--I fell. That's all."

Jack didn't believe that at all. "Gail! C'mon! This is me you're talking to."

Gail just shook her head.

"Look, you can not expect me to believe you fell on your back, what, like every day for the last two weeks? Let me help you, Gail. Please?"

Tears streamed down Gail's face. She loved Jack for his concern, but if she couldn't talk to her own son, how was she going to talk to anyone else?

Jack looked at Gail and knew she wouldn't talk. He thought surely she would tell Stephen. Eventually. Damn, he thought, Stephen's got to know about this!

"Gail, I want you to know if there is anything, anything I can do...."

Gail sniffled. "I know, Jack. You're such a sweetheart! I appreciate your concern, but I just don't think there's anything anyone could do." She got up and walked Jack to the door. "Just...." She sighed. "Just, tell Stephen I'm sorry, okay?"

"Of course, Gail." Jack kissed Gail on the cheek and punched in Stephen's number before he even got to the car.

"Stevie, baby! Where you at?" Jack heard weights clinking in the background. "Nevermind, I can tell you're at the weight room. Stay there. I'll be there in 15."

Stephen mumbled "Whatever, Dude" into the phone. He wasn't going anywhere anyway.

*****

Jack walked up to Stephen, who was doing barbell curls. "I gotta talk to you, man--it's important!"

"So talk," Stephen said, not slowing down.

Jack grabbed onto the barbell, pushing it down as Stephen was pushing up. They struggled for a moment, but Stephen, in his overwrought state was no match for Jack. Jack set the barbell down. "You don't want to hear this here. C'mon."

Stephen was sure Jack wanted to get on his case again, but he just didn't have the energy to fight Jack. He followed Jack into one of the coach's offices. "All right, Jack. What?" Stephen's voice was worryingly flat.

"Sit down," Jack said. Stephen sat.

"I just got back from talking to your mom."

Stephen popped up angrily. "What? What the fuck, Jack? Why did you do that?"

"Because something is wrong, Stephen, and because I care about you. I thought maybe she'd know what was wrong. Well, I was right. But the same thing is wrong with her, too, isn't it?"

Stephen looked away from Jack. "I don't know what you mean."

"I didn't think you did. You haven't actually seen your mom since it happened, have you?"

Stephen got defensive. "Since what happened? What are you implying, Jack?"

"Stephen, you want to keep it private, whatever happened. I get that. I think I probably know and I'd like to be happy for you, except you're clearly not happy. Neither is your mom, you know."

Stephen put his head in his hands. "I knew it. She hates me, doesn't she?"

Jack put his hand on Stephen's shoulder. "I doubt it, man--she thinks you hate her! She wanted me to tell you she's sorry. Stephen, you need to talk to her. She can't go on like this."

Stephen's head popped up. "What do you mean?"

"Well, beside the fact that she looks like like hell, just like you do...." Jack paused. He knew Stephen would be out for blood and in his current state might not act rationally. He felt he needed to prepare Stephen, though. In a quiet voice, Jack went on, "Someone's hitting your mom, Stephen."

"What?" Stephen asked, uncomprehending. "What?" he repeated, getting angry. Stephen clenched his fists unconsciously. "Who?" Stephen demanded, with a wild look in his eyes.

"I don't know. She wouldn't tell me." Jack grabbed Stephen's arm as he plowed out of the room. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Stephen didn't answer. He headed for his car single-mindedly. Jack didn't know if he should follow or not.

*****

Stephen burst into the house, calling, "Mom!"

Gail's heart double-timed. She looked around for a place to hide and then chided herself for being silly and childish. She needed to face him. She squared up her shoulders and replied, "In here, Stephen!"

Stephen strode towards the kitchen, a look of dangerous determination on his face. But when he finally saw his mother for the first time since their incestuous liaison, he halted. He tried to mask the shock he felt but knew he was not completely successful when his mother inhaled sharply, then turned away.

At that moment, Stephen knew that he had been unfairly indulging himself in his self-recriminations, as if he was enjoying the self-hatred above any concern for his mother. A fresh wave of disgust threatened him, but he pushed it aside. He needed to care for his mother now. She needed him. Now that he looked, he could see that.

Stephen walked to his mother's side, looking down at her bowed head as she sat with a cup of coffee. He noted her hair, hanging limp and devoid of lustre. He knelt before her and, with a single finger, urged her to look at him. He took in the hollow cheeks, the dark rings around her tear-streaked eyes, her chapped and bitten lips. In that moment, Stephen knew he had never loved his mother more.

He leaned in slowly, eyes open, and tentatively, tenderly, brushed a lover's kiss across her lips.

Gail's eyes widened in surprise. This was not the reaction she expected. Once again, the earth quaked, rocking the very foundation of her reality. In the barest whisper, she breathed out, "You--you don't--hate me?"

Stephen's heart was pierced by the pain behind his mother's question. He made an inarticulate sound and gathered her up, one part of his mind disturbed at how light she was, another part feeling whole and healed to have her in his arms again.

He turned and sat, placing her upon his lap. He caressed her face with one hand. "Mother. Lover. Mine."

Gail threw her arms around her son, crying joyfully. "Oh, Stephen! My love!" She kissed every inch of his face as he laughed with pleasure.

Stephen had one arm around his mother's hips, snugging her up close. The other began to wander slowly down from her face to her slender neck, then across her shoulder and down inside her blouse towards her breast. He felt no bra strap. Just as he was weighing her breast in his hand, Jack came into the kitchen.

Gail tried to stand up, tried to remove Stephen's hand, tried to disappear. Stephen heard Jack coming in and had decided no more denial. He was going to be who he was, everyone else be damned. So he kept his hand on his mother's breast and even moved to capture the nipple between two fingers. As he rolled and pulled on the nipple, Gail gave in and settled into his lap. Jack beamed a broad smile.

"So, my two favorite people in the world are happy again?"

Gail blushed. Stephen nodded. "Thanks, man, you gave me the push I needed. I didn't realize how much Mom was suffering, too." He turned to his mother. "Can you forgive me, Mom?"

Gail ignored her embarrassment. This was important. "Stephen, honey, there's nothing to forgive! You didn't do anything wrong! It was me...."

Jack broke in. "I hate to interrupt the tender moment, but think about this, please. How happy are you at this moment?" Jack paused. He saw clearly the glow of happiness and love that surrounded and infused the pair. He went on, "How can something be wrong when it makes you so happy?"

Stephen looked at his mom, smiling tenderly, and said, "He's right, Mom" and kissed Gail with all the pent up longing and frustration of the past two weeks. He kissed his mother breathless in front of his friend.

Stephen looked up at Jack. "Was there something else you needed, Jack? We're a little busy here." Stephen chuckled.

Jack's smile was replaced with a look of concern. "So, you found out who's been hitting her? What can I do to help?"

"Damn!" Stephen exclaimed. "I forgot...."

Gail wished again she could disappear. But she knew she had to stop what was beginning to look like a witch hunt on her behalf. Before it could go any further, Gail said, "No one else has been hitting me. There's nothing to do about anything. It's nothing."

Jack pointed at Gail, "Look at her back, Stephen! That's 'nothing'?"

Stephen raised Gail's blouse, almost fearing what he would see. When he got the hem raised to her shoulder blades, a red fog of rage formed. Her back was striped with long marks of varying age and width. The newest stripes were raised, hot, red, and had drawn blood.

Stephen ripped the blouse off of his mother, forcing her to raise her arms. He picked her up from his lap and set her on her feet. He tugged at her skirt waist. "Strip!" he told her. "Let me see it all!"

Gail's shoulders shook with the force of her crying. The hate and pain in Stephen's voice made Gail fear she had truly crossed the line. She was ashamed of herself, but could do nothing but obey that voice. She pushed the skirt and panties she'd been wearing down to pool on the floor.

Jack gasped as he saw the stripes covered her entire backside from below her shoulders to above her knees. "Gail, my god!"

Stephen felt almost out of control with rage.He grabbed his mother by the shoulders and roughly turned her to face him. "Who the hell did this to you, Mother, and why the hell are you covering for them?" He was screaming by the time he got to the end of the question.

Gail was beyond caring that Jack was seeing her naked body or that he was even there at all to witness her humiliation. All that mattered was Stephen.

She flung herself down on the floor to literally grovel at her son's feet. "No one! No one, Stephen! Please! Oh, god, Stephen, please don't hate me! I did it!"

The room filled with a stunned silence broken only by Gail's sniffling sounds. Stephen took a step back in disbelief. His eyes were wide and he felt almost on the verge of hysteria at the absurd notion that his mother had been beating herself.

Gail's cries were only half-formed words as she continued to plead with Stephen. "Love you! Don't hate! Me! Please! I did! Did!" She hit her head with her fist.

Jack, having experienced his share of painsluts and scenes gone wrong, recovered first. "Stephen! Stop her!"

The urgency in Jack's voice broke through Stephen's silent near-hysteria. He quickly squatted and grabbed his mother's wrists in his.

Jack spoke to Stephen, calmly, in a quiet voice. "Stephen, she needs you now. She needs to touch you and be touched by you. She needs to know you still love her."

"Still love her?" Stephen was confused. Of course he still loved her! He looked down at the picture of abject misery that was his mother. The truth of Jack's words settled into Stephen's brain and spurred him to take action.

He knelt beside his mother, smoothing long gentle strokes over her poor back. He murmured his love for her in a quiet voice. Gradually, Gail's shoulders stopped heaving and her breathing slowed to close to normal. Stephen pulled his mother up, cradling her in his arms. He stood, looked towards Jack, and said, "You can find your own way out, right?"

Jack smiled.

*****

Stephen laid his mother on her bed with a warning not to move. He returned with ice water and Tylenol and told her to take the pain reliever. He left and came back again with a bowl of ice water and a washcloth. He thoroughly wetted the washcloth and tenderly soothed the freshest of the stripes across his mother's backside. Then he folded the ice cold washcloth and placed it along the most swollen mark.

Stephen wanted to soothe his mother, physically and emotionally. He knew that touch would accomplish that, probably better than words would. So he squirted lotion on his hands and moved towards his mother's feet. He lovingly smoothed the lotion over her feet, massaging without tickling. He worked his way up her ankles, noting how thin and fragile they looked. He glanced at her beautiful body, marred by red and purple, and reassessed. "No," he told himself, "fragile she is not."

Stephen continued working his way slowly up his mother's legs, massaging in the lotion, soothing and calming her with his touch. When he had worked his way to the point where the bruises started, he stopped massaging. He didn't want to cause anymore pain. He sat on the bed beside her and took her small hand in his larger one.

In a voice scratchy with emotion, Stephen said, "Mom, you have to promise never to do this to yourself again." Gail might have nodded, but she didn't reply, and Stephen wanted to drive the point home forcefully. He let his anger and frustration lend a steely quality to his voice and demanded, "You're mine, aren't you?"

Gail's natural submissiveness responded to that tone of voice immediately. A little shiver of fear-laced desire ran down her spine as she quickly answered, "Yes."

"And that means your body is mine, doesn't it?"

Gail understood where Stephen was going with his questions. She felt a paradigm shift in herself as the idea settled in that she, body and soul, belonged to her son. She nodded her agreement.

"And that means nobody, not even you, can touch my body without my permission, doesn't it?"

Gail sighed with the deep pleasure of finally, finally, knowing her place. "Yes, Sir," she said without thinking.

Stephen leaned over and brushed a kiss along Gail's temple. Quietly, with a smile on his face, he said, "I like 'Sir'; keep it up."

He sat back up and continued, "So, you will treat my possessions with the utmost care from now on, won't you?"

"Yes, Sir," Gail repeated.

Stephen laid down, face to face with his mother. Softly, he said, "Now tell me why you did this, Mom."

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