FG - Tales from the Volton Ch. 01

(note from the author:

Dear Readers;

I hope you enjoy this story. Family Garden is my oldest and longest series. It began back in 2013 and then sat for several years as a single solitary chapter. Since then there have been many revisions; the original chapter 1 is chapters 1-4, there are 51 chapters now to date, and the finale is approaching if not quickly. One of the things introduced in that very first chapter of the Family Garden was the nightclub, 'The Volton'. A massive club catering to every sexual deviancy imaginable with tentacles of influences spreading through the underworld and the government alike.

For a while now I've wanted to write a series that explores its operation, the employees lives, and the lives of it's many members, the influential and the not so influential. There are questions I would like to explore like: How does this club somehow stay out of sight of the political and law enforcement entities that would close it doors and prosecute the owner and many of the employees and patrons? What brings the patrons to the Volton? Is it purely sexual deviancy, or is there something more? What has led the employees to work at such a place? How has patronage of such an establishment affected the clientele's lives, and what about their partners that may or may not know of such deviant behavior? What is working at the Volton like, and how has it affect the employees lives, and that of their partners? And what about the sex workers, what motivates them and how has it affected them?

There are many questions, and many stories.

My inspiration for this new novella is the 'Twilight Zone'. The goal is for every chapter to be a 'One Shot' story snapshotting someone's life. Not to say there won't be other chapters about the same people in a different phase of their lives. Some of the stories I imagine will be pretty easy to predict, but I am hoping that others will have surprise twists that make you say "Woah! I didn't see that coming!"

Well, that is the goal at least. Anyway I hope you enjoy the read, and welcome to 'The Family Garden's: Tales from the Volton'. -Pinkender)

The Family Garden's: Tales from the Volton

By: Pinkender

Chapter 1- The Barista

Rumors travel around the workplace faster than fire through drought parched grass. The Volton is no different, as a matter of fact it is infinitely worse. The reason is that the Volton is not like, well, any other workplace I have ever known. A restaurant. A nightclub. A strip club. A coffee bar. A brothel, and much more. It's an adult playground like no one has ever seen before. A workplace such as this would of course breed all sorts of lies, rumors, and stories. My job is to gather all of those lies, rumors, and stories and try to weed out the lies, investigate the rumors, and organize the stories so that I can then unfold them for you.

This first tale is about a young man I have gotten to know very well after he came to work at the Volton. His name is Frederick Bruce, and this is his story.

----(!)----

I was not quite nineteen when my mom and I moved into this single bedroom efficiency apartment. The only furniture we had was my stuff. Basically, what was in my bedroom. My full sized bed. Dresser. Chest of Drawers. A desk. Television. Computer. Clothes. On the other hand, the only thing dad let mom take with her was her clothes, and the family car. He kept the house, the furniture, his truck and sports car, everything, and then he moved his new girlfriend in.

Like I said, I'm eighteen, almost nineteen. Mom is thirty-six. I always thought she was beautiful, but then, I am a bit biased. Since dad worked a lot it was left to me and mom to do family events together, alone. Going to movies. Going out to family dinners. Going grocery shopping. We were always mother and son, but sometimes, I felt like I was dad's surrogate, or maybe mom's. Either way, it was highly flattering and embarrassing when strangers mistook me and my mother as boyfriend and girlfriend, husband and wife, or just lovers. But, there again, I was really all mom had for male companionship, dad was always gone or working.

Aside from my few pieces of furniture, the small economy apartment was furnished with a small table in a corner with two chairs. There wasn't even a couch, loveseat, or chair. The apartment was so small that it must have been thought that if a tenant was going to sit anywhere, the bed would do. There was a very small kitchen. And a bathroom with sink, toilet, and very tight shower.

It was late by the time we finished bringing up the last garbage bags filled with mom's and my clothes. We exchanged exhausted looks as I closed the door and we stood there for a long minute or two and stared at our new life. It was a very long fall from grace. We were very wealthy. The house I grew up in wasn't a mansion. We weren't old money, but dad had been very good at his job. My parents house, my dad's house now, was easily forty-five hundred square feet with an oversized master bedroom and bath, an open floor plan, an office, a dining room, a den, and two large bedrooms with a shared bathroom. There was a large garage, and we had a pool in the backyard. Now, mom and I were reduced to a single room for the both of us. A single bed for the both of us. A single bathroom for the both of us.

Jillian.

My mother's name is Jillian Bruce.

She turned to me, dropping her sack of clothes as she did, and threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tight as she wept. We both stood there for a long time and wept. Once she was cried out, mom patted my shoulders and looked up into my eyes with red rimmed, puffy, brown eyes and sighed, "Thank you son. Thank you for always being here for me."

"Your welcome mom," I mumbled, "I will always be here for you."

I meant it with all my heart. I loved her with all my heart. I loved her more than anyone... ANYONE... else in my life!

I just...

I had no idea what else I could do to help and comfort her.

"I'm too tired to even think about trying to put our clothes away tonight," She sighed again, this time sounding like she really hadn't slept in days, if not weeks. It was a bone tired weariness I heard from her now, and most of it was because of all the emotional turmoil of the last twenty-four hours, "I think we should just go to bed and try to get some sleep. We can pick this up again in the morning."

"I have to work tomorrow," I said, though I knew she already knew.

"That's fine," She replied with a shake of her head as she started digging around in a few of the garbage bags, "I will fold and put away the clothes while you're off to work, then I will go see about finding a job myself."

Mom used to work, back when her and dad were newly married, but she quit in her last trimester with me and from then on was a stay at home mom. A "Domestic Administrator" she used to call it. The greatest job a woman could ever do, and the most thankless and underpaid job a woman could ever do. One day I would show her that it wasn't thankless, and she is very much appreciated. Someday. Somehow. I haven't figured out how to do it yet.

Raising her voice, sounding once more like mom of old, she commanded, "Find your pajamas. You're a grown man now. We may have to share the bed, but we aren't going to sleep together like we're husband and wife!"

"Mom!" I gasped, scandalized by the idea that we, she, or was it that she thought I would take advantage of her in the middle of the night?

"Calm down," She chuckled as she shook her head and gave me an almost devious smirk, "I wasn't implying anything. However, you're a man and I'm a woman, and despite best intentions or proprieties, shit happens. Especially when asleep and there is a man or woman laying in bed next to you. Sometimes more base natural instincts act on their own. We might wake up the next morning only to find a very embarrassing situation, or we might suffer consequences we never expected. Best if we pack on as many layers of dissuasion as we can."

"I'm your son and you are my mom, I doubt very much that I would do anything to you while sleeping," I mumbled as I started rummaging through bags looking for pajama bottoms. Then a thought occurred to me and I added, "And I don't think you would attack your son in the middle of the night either."

She just smiled and shrugged before she said, "Better safe than sorry."

There was no arguing with that so I continued looking until I found fresh underwear and pajama bottoms. Usually I only wore them around the house. I never actually wore them when sleeping. I never could understand how people could wear pajamas. They always wrapped around me to such a point that I felt like I was either being strangled, tied up, or smothered.

With a sigh I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. It had been a long day, and I stunk. Once I was done I had to open the door and ask mom for a towel. Amidst grumbling over why I hadn't gotten a towel before taking a shower, she brought one to me. I dried off and wasted no time in shimmying into undies and pajamas. Leaving the bathroom amid a billowing cloud of steam, mom gave me a chagrined look and moved past me into the bathroom.

Looking over at my bed, I noticed that she had made it up, and it now had four pillows. Two for her and two for me. There wasn't much room for anything more. Casting around, I found the light switches and turned the lights off. Careful to not stub a toe I made my way to the bed and climbed in.

It was a long time before I heard the shower finally start up. Mom must have needed to use the other facilities first. It was so weird to think that I noticed that. I never had before. Mom simply disappeared, and then reappeared. I guessed a lot of things were going to change now that we were living in such close quarters. I didn't think I was going to be able to sleep. I was tired as hell, yes, but as I laid there the events of the day filled my mind. Finally, it was the droning of the shower running that lulled me to sleep, and it was a strange squawk coming from the water pipes as mom shut the water off that roused me. She stepped out of the shower, the shower door closed, and then... quiet.

I was startled awake again sometime later as mom pulled the covers down. Groggy and taking up most of the bed, as I usually did, she had to push me to get me to move to one side so she could climb into bed. Grumbling and still half asleep, I was faintly aware of her laying down. Not facing me, but rather facing away from me. The bed wasn't big enough for either of us to face or face away from each other. So, I turned towards her and she turned towards the side of the bed, and we spooned.

I remember feeling the bed creak and shift as she scooted backwards, more toward the center of the bed. Her back coming up against mine, and her large, round, well padded bottom pressing against my lower belly, hips, and upper thighs. I remember mumbling something and throwing my arm over her waist. She laced her fingers through mine and pulled my arm around her like a comforting blanket. Sleep swept over me and I didn't wake again until morning. I didn't feel mom's soft shudders as she cried again until she finally fell asleep too.

----(!)----

The next morning I woke up when the bed shifted as mom moved into a more comfortable position. Life. Environment. Circumstance. It was all a hazy fog for several minutes before I remembered where I was, and with whom. I groaned, and I could feel mom's curly blonde hair moving in my face as she nodded agreement.

"I know," She whispered, "I don't feel like getting up either. Maybe you should call in sick today."

That made me grunt. The temptation was palpable. I really was worn out. I felt like I had been dragged through a knothole backwards but I couldn't call in sick, at least, I shouldn't. We really needed the income now!

"I really should get up and go," I replied.

It was only when I started to remove my hand from around her waist that recognition bloomed. My arm was still wrapped around mom's waist. Her arm was over mine, but her fingers were laced over my hand and through my fingers. Also, soft, marshmallowy flesh squeezed beneath my fingers!

My mom, Jillian, was far and away not an unattractive woman. That was why most people thought we were a couple when we went out. Yes, mom was thirty-six, but she had the body of a twenty-six year old, and until recently had a very youthful disposition. She always had a ready smile and a positive comment for anyone she met. The smiles and comments had stopped though. It was the only sign really, to me at least, that she was sad and hurting. But I digress, mom was no petite waif of a woman. No. She is five feet seven inches tall. She has thigh length, golden blonde, curly hair. A small oval face with a sharp jawline and pointed chin. A wide, plump heart-shaped mouth with the corners turned up slightly so that she appeared to always be smirking at some secret thing she found amusing. She has a nose that is neither too short nor long, turned up from her philtrum to the tip and then ski-sloping back up to her brow giving her an almost pixie-elf appearance. She had deep brown eyes like pools of the darkest earth I've ever seen framed by dark blonde eyebrows and long thick lashes. And that was just her face!

Mom was a robust woman with thick, muscular arms and strong shoulders. A feature she worked hard to tone and define with years of training at the local gym. Of course the rest of her was the same. Her back was taut and beautiful, and would and did make many men and women gape in naked lust and envy. She wore a thirty-four inch bra with very proud and perky, almost gravity defying, double D-cup breasts. They had been double-Fs before she started working out. Her abdominals were a taut four pack with a roundness to her lower belly that only heightened her femininity, and she seemed to be impossibly slim at her natural waist being only twenty-six inches. From there her waist swooped out to the tops of her hip-flares and then again to her hips giving a beautiful vase-like shape. Around her hips and ass she was an astounding forty-four inches of pure muscle and fatty tush that made even the most stalwart gay man look at her in amazement. To add to her broad hips and thick derrière, her thighs and legs were proportionally long and curvy as hell in all the right places.

So, why did my dad ever consider kicking my mom out? Honestly, I have no idea. Though I did see his new girlfriend, and honestly, she was very beautiful, but in my opinion she had nothing on mom!

So, here I am just waking up, spooning with my own mother under the blankets of my bed in our new apartment. Turns out her pajama top was my pajama top, and it was unbuttoned all the way down and my hand is not just on her breast but I was squeezing. I was groping my own mother's breast while I was sleeping!

With a gasp I started to let go and pull away, but mom, surprisingly and for some reason I couldn't even begin to fathom, tightened her grip on my hand and fought it not just on her breast but actually forcing me to knead it even harder, as she whispered, "Shhh. Calm down. Don't make a big deal out of this. Like I said last night, our bodies know that there is a young virile man, and a fully mature fertile woman lying in bed next to them."

"But mom!" I said my voice very nearly shrill with worry over the immoral taboo of our situation.

"Shh," She shushed me again before continuing still in her warm reassuring motherly voice, "Like I said, embarrassing things may happen in the middle of the night. This is our life now, at least until we can afford a bigger apartment. Things like this are bound to happen again, so let's not make a big deal over it. Okay? If you need to, at night once the lights are off, think of me not as mom but as a girlfriend. Okay? Then, whatever happens... happens... and in the morning we will not speak of it. We will just pretend that nothing happened, and if that doesn't work and you or I need to talk about it, then we will refer to what happened as if it were with a boyfriend or girlfriend. Okay?"

It all sounded crazy and delusional, but I nodded my head anyway and squeezed mom in a one armed hug before saying, "Okay mom."

When she was satisfied that I was reassured and fully consented to our new sleeping arrangement, she relaxed her grip on my hand before whispering, "Now, you better get up, take a shower and get ready quickly, or you will be late!"

When I stepped out of the shower mom was no longer in bed. Instead, she was up and making breakfast and lunch for me. She stood there with her back to me, her long blonde curls a wild mess that was pulled back in a hastily done high ponytail, and my overly large pajama shirt was righted and buttoned so that the tails of the shirt exposed her broad hips but hid her behind and pussy from view. Not that I was looking! However, she did bend over once to retrieve the frying pan that had toast on it, and I was surprised all the way to my testicles tingling to see that she apparently hadn't worn panties last night, and still wasn't!

I couldn't take my eyes off of her bare ass or the quick flashes of her completely denuded, hairless, smooth, pink skin of her pussy-lips. In my head I repeated, "I'm just watching my girlfriend. I'm just looking at my girlfriend's ass. I'm just admiring my girlfriend's pussy. Oh fuck, I just want to fuck my girlfriend so hard!"

Over and over and over, all through breakfast, even after mom had brought plates and come and sat down opposite of me. My mantra continued until mom finally looked up at me with a suspicious grin and asked, "Honey? Are you okay? Your face is beat red."

I nearly choked. This was not my girlfriend. This was my mother! And I was just thinking about how much I wanted to fuck her!

"No! It's nothing. Just ah... just thinking about stuff," I answered as ambiguously as I could, but I kept my eyes on my plate instead of looking at her chest. She left the top three buttons unbuttoned and it revealed a very generous, a very beautiful view of her décolletage and cleavage.

As soon as I finished eating, mom gathered up the plates, silverware, and glasses while I gathered up my lunch and started to leave.

"Wait!" Mom called as she quick-stepped from the kitchen to the apartment door.

The apartment was so small there was nowhere within it that you couldn't reach in three or four strides. Throwing her arms around my waist she hugged me. She would hold me there until I hugged her back. I knew this. It had been our little tradition ever since that very first day I left for kindergarten. So I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight.

She put her head on my chest and whispered, "I love you Freddy. Work hard and come home safe."

"I will mom," I replied with another tightening of my arms around her ribs that pressed her breasts into me very wonderfully.

She relaxed her hug, and so did I so as to leave, but as soon as there was enough room she lifted up onto the balls of her feet and kissed me.

Kissed me!

Just a soft brush of her lips across mine at first. I was so shocked my eyes flew open, and was shocked again to see that mom's eyes were closed. She pressed in more firmly, and I knew that she wouldn't stop until I returned her kiss. Shifting my hands up her back I pulled her in for the kiss I had always hoped to give my girlfriend. Whenever that was actually going to happen. I pressed my mouth into hers as firmly as she pressed against me. When her lips parted just a little I sucked her plump bottom lip between my lips and felt her do the same to my top lip.

Her arms tightened again around my waist and I felt her pulling me in, pressing her body against me until her breasts squeezed out the sides and her belly was pressed against me. I could feel her pussy, her soft blonde pubes, and pelvic bone pressing against my dick. I could feel my body warming up, and my balls churning and tingling. My dick began to swell up and press back against her lower belly and pubic bone, and then she gasped and pulled away. She opened her eyes. Appearing dazed, for a wonder I felt the same way!