Grounding Mom

Another sequel! This is a follow-up to my Jan. '15 offering "Mother And Child Communion." Its subtitle is "Grounding Mom." And like "Don't Call ME...," I've gone back and freshly edited the original "Mother And Child Communion." So you may go back and check that out again, before or after this. (If you like.) And Happy Mother's Day to all the wonderful Mamas out there.

ADDITIONAL CATEGORIES: BDSM, Fetish, Lesbian, Mature, NonCon/Reluctance

*****

Welcome Back, Welcome Beck, Welcome Back

Saturday, May 12th, 2018, 4:03 p.m.

If one were to consult today's weather using a digital thermometer, the readout would say: GORGEOUS°. Citizens took their time collecting mail, walking their dogs and greeting neighbors to maximize their outdoor time and fresh air. The not-so-proverbial May flowers flourished in the wake of the equally literal April showers. Flocks of birds convened on fences and branches to discuss philosophy and literature. America's winter clothes were retired in favor of their summer counterparts.

A taxicab banged a right onto Sullivan Avenue and slowed to house number 727. One moment later, a stylishly, fashionably dressed 21-year-old blonde emerged from the back seat. Having gone away to school, she'd chosen this particular day to come home for a surprise visit. She lugged out her suitcase, waved to the cabbie and approached the house. While perfectly within her rights to whip out her keys and go right in, it was more practical—and a nice prelude to the surprise—to knock instead. And so she did.

Vivian heard the knock, and rose to answer. Rebecca waited outside, taking an excited breath, letting it out with a giggle.

Click. The door opened. The gal on the outside looked up to meet the eyes of her mother, innocently batting her own emerald greens.

"Happy Mother's Eve."

Vivian gasped. "Oh my gosh, you're here!" She threw the door open to welcome her in. "Baby doll, I'm so happy to see you!"

Becky made herself resist the eye roll and scoff that wanted out, good-natured though they'd be. She had to admit, part of her had actually missed the cutesy pet names. She stepped into the house and her Mom's waiting arms.

"Right back at'cha, Viv."

A snicker. "Oh. Right," Vivian sheepishly remembered as they hugged. "Sorry, Becky."

"Hee hee...no worries, Ma."

"Well, this is so great! C'mon, get in here, swee—er, Becky! Watch some TV with me. How'd finals go?"

"Oh, good, good," said Becky. "'Nother two down, closer and closer to my degree. I'm excited!"

"Well I'm excited for you, pooky."

"...Thanks, Viv."

Indeed, Becky Heidi Hughes had just closed out two more semesters at the UMN College of Design. One of her first loves as a grown-up as well as a child, she was going into fashion. It seemed she'd a good head for the business side as well as design. She'd always been a gifted student, while passably modest about it. This gift continued to serve through college, and the future only looked brighter. She could not wait to graduate, begin designing, and come out—this time with her own line of smart, stylish threads.

But, while she had to wait for the time being, she'd come home to reclaim the company of her Mom. This couldn't have made Vivian happier, who missed her to pieces when she went off to school. Becky lived off financial aid as well as her salary at Ford & Maylor, the Juniper Mall department store she called her second home (UMN was third). When came in to interview with F&M, they could tell she'd put a lot of thought into her outfit: professional enough for the occasion while showcasing the fact that she was serious about fashion. When Becky told her superiors she was expanding her education to make this her career, they logically approved. While the store didn't look forward to losing her one day, not unlike her mother, they did look forward to carrying her product line.

But right now, Rebecca planned to take it easy and relax with Mom awhile. Just like old times. Out from under the rebellious thumb of teendom, Becky'd come to realize how much she loved her mother and wanted to make her happy however she could. She knew how lonely Vivian got at home by herself. Becky'd lost her Dad Fred when she was just a little girl, and her Mom found herself being a widow. She never remarried. For that matter, she never seemed very interested in dating anyone else at all. At times, Becky pondered the possibilities. Maybe no other gentleman would ever compare to her father. Maybe after the day Vivian "punished" her for taking her clothes to wear without permission—incest aside—her Mom found herself preferring women to men. Maybe she was actually seeing people and keeping it her own little secret. Or maybe she just enjoyed her freedom.

As for herself, Becky had pretty much always preferred girls to boys to begin with. She was a lesbian, and truth be told, it didn't matter much at all one way or the other. If one day she chanced to meet a sweet young lady to spend her time with, then so be it, but Becky wasn't dying for a girlfriend. Besides, shallow though it may've been, she couldn't see herself being with a girl who didn't also have a keen eye for fashion.

As she came in to sit with Vivian and hang out, Rebecca could see that she was missed. Vivian had made a hobby of digging out both older and more recent photo albums to leaf through and reminisce. Several were scattered across the living and dining rooms alone—some open, some closed, the former displaying pictures of Becky. After talking a bit, they sat back to watch TV, and Becky semi-absentmindedly perused an album. Somehow, even though she'd just arrived a short time ago, she could tell Vivian's day was brightened by her presence. Tomorrow was Mother's Day, so of course Becky wanted to be here. She considered how they'd celebrate. Taking her out? Ordering in? Movies? Bowling? Some other fun recreation?

"Wine?"

Rebecca blinked, and looked up from her album.

"...Huh?"

Vivian stood to her left, holding a bottle and two glasses.

"Care for some wine?"

"Oh! Absolutely. Always, Mama Bear; start pourin'.

"Which one're we going with?" she queried as Vivian sat to uncork.

"Esprit de Tablas Blanc."

"Yummeh."

Enhanced by this sweet selection, the evening garnered more colorful interactions. They laughed at things on the TV that were only marginally funny. They livened up the conversation. They sat together looking at photo albums, "aw"'ing at some and guffawing at others. After enough reminiscing for the moment, they flopped back against the sofa and rested.

Vivian felt her hand being clasped and her fingers linked.

"I hope you don't just think this is the wine talkin', Ma...but I love ya."

"Awww, baby!... You're gettin' a pet name this time whether ya like it or not, kiddo. I love you too, sweetie."

As the girls consumed more and more Blanc, nature inevitably came calling. Vivian went first, then Rebecca. As the latter finished and flushed, she emerged to the hall, and something pulled her the other way. Thanks in part to the alcohol, she began feeling wistfully nostalgic. She wanted to see her old room, and if her mother had done anything new with it.

She wandered in to see most everything unchanged. Of course, it looked different to the way it did three years ago. When Becky established dorm life, she took a big chunk of her belongings, and gave what she no longer wanted to Goodwill. She shuffled about, remembering each bit of the room, piece by piece. The dresser, the bureau, the curtains, the bed, the empty drawers, the closet...

The closet was shut, as if a less secure but still out lesbian had emerged and discreetly closed it. Becky strode over and pulled it ajar.

What she saw as she opened it brought her a bit back to sobriety. It was the absence of any of her leftover clothes. They were gone. Becky was confused, and a little alarmed. She knew she'd left some of her old garments here in the closet when she'd moved out; she just knew it. They seemed less than necessary at the time, but they retained sentimental value. And Becky never knew when fashion would change back, or when she just might like to wear them again.

She reapproached the living room.

"...Ma?"

"...Beck?" slurred the voice of her more inebriated Mom.

"Um... where're my clothes?"

Vivian arched her brows, swallowed, and darted her eyes around the room.

"...Wwwwwhat do you mean?"

What do I mean?... What did I just ask?

"I mean, where are my clothes? I...I know I left some of 'em in my closet, but they're gone. Where are they?"

Her mother remained silent, still, and stone-faced a moment. She then nodded in revelation.

"Oh! Goodwill, hon. Don't you remember? You told me to give 'em away."

Becky's stomach did a flip.

"... I... what??"

"Yell wes," said Drunk Viv. "You remember, we were on the phone that one time, couple years ago, and...and I said I gave your old teddy bear to your little cousin Emma? And you said, 'Well, why don't'cha just give away the rest of my clothes while you're at it.'"

Rebecca waited to hear more, but Vivian stopped talking. Her daughter cocked her head. That was the end of the story?

"Y—...w—...Ma, wh-what...f—...w-were you drunk??"

Vivian shrugged. "I s'pose it's poffible I had a drink or two. I..." She waved a hand. "...Oops. Poffible. I meant poffible."

Becky suddenly had to place her own hand against the wall to steady herself. She couldn't believe she had to explain this.

"Mother... I, was, kid-ding! I—...it-th-that was a smart-ass joke!"

Vivian's eyebrows rose.

"I...I don't freaking believe this. You thought I was serious? Give away my clothes?? I-I...how c—...

"You gave away all the clothes I had left in my closet??"

"Well... no, Becky dear, no. Just some of them."

"...W-well, then where're the rest?"

"In my closet. I gave 'em some alterations."

"What?!"

Her Mom actually chuckled. "Well, sweetie, I figured if you didn't want 'em anymo—"

"I WANTED them, mother!" Becky shouted. "One more time, I was kidding! I..." She shook her head.

"I don't even believe this. You donated a bunch of my leftover clothes and stole the rest of 'em?"

It only now seemed to begin dawning on Vivian that she'd made a misstep here.

"Oh...well, I'm...I'm sorry, Beck. But...well, I guess the apple didn't fall far from the tree, did it."

"Ma, how...how the hell could you??" Rebecca demanded, wanting to cry. "You know how much my clothes've always meant to me!"

"Oh, well, babe...I'm sorry, but..." Vivian paused to pass a small burp and a hiccup.

"I'd be glad to take you shopping and buy you new ones. And I'd have thought with your job and you getting your degree soon that you'd be able to make and have all the clothes you want."

Becky returned to the living room and deflatedly plopped in the easy chair.

"Viv, that's not the point!... I..." She put her palms to the sides of her face. "I... okay, yeah, I took most of my stuff with me to school. I didn't feel like I needed to take those other ones, but that doesn't mean I wanted you to get rid of them!"

She snatched the wine bottle from the table and took several gulps directly from it.

"...You want me to open another bottle?" Becky heard her Mom ask between swigs. She looked at her and nodded. It seemed if she were staying with her Mom awhile, she'd need to go clothes shopping sooner than she'd thought. Much sooner.

*****

A Twilit Excursion

Sunday, May 13th, 2018, 2:06 a.m.

Vivian'd changed into her leopard-print silk pajamas and put herself down for the night. Becky, on the other hand, could not sleep—not even after all the wine. She'd stopped and put bottle two away, only for fear of a monster hangover the next morning. And...she guessed the anguish over the loss of her old clothes had had its time to subside. It wasn't the biggest deal in the world. There were larger issues, more important things to worry about in the grand scheme, and they were just clothes, but...even after all this time...

They remained special. Their sentimental value was real. They were virtually irreplaceable. But even if they weren't, it still wouldn't be the same. Her Ma was right, she guessed; between her wallet, occupation and semi-imminent graduation, she'd have access to all the hottest, hippest, raddest articles she wanted. Even so...losing her old clothes felt like losing a part of her childhood. The ones her mother had altered and claimed as her own hurt as well. She could go peek at them in Viv's closet right now, but she didn't want to. It'd be like seeing some old friends...but friends who wouldn't recognize her anymore. Besides, her Mom was in her bed sleeping. This, quite frankly, annoyed Becky. Her mother had done this thing that seemed innocuous, but ended up hurting her daughter's feelings. And after Becky explained it, Vivian had seemed only mildly contrite at most. Granted, she was inebriated again today, but not very remorseful at all. Almost still treating the whole thing as the joke Becky'd intended it to be. And now she was tranquilly sleeping away, not a care in the world. Becky felt she had the right to be resentful.

She suddenly felt like getting some fresh air, and decided to go for a walk. Even if she had a car, some of the booze still occupied her system, so on foot it was. It was the middle of the night, but still a lovely 64°F. And Sullivan Avenue rested amidst the most innocent, peaceful, family-friendly neighborhoods Juniper had to offer. Even so, Becky always carried an extra item or two to protect herself. A couple of blocks down, Sullivan let out to the Commons County business district. A little further but still within walking distance, there handily happened to be a 24-hour strip. On one end was a Walmart. Then there were a Chinese restaurant, a Cedar Convenience, a movie theater, a liquor store, a buffet, a Walgreens...and co-bookending the center, a novelty boutique called the Pleasure Chest. Becky studied the layout. Not all of these outlets offered something she could've used right now...she supposed she was a little hungry, but not restaurant-hungry. She could pop into Walmart and get something quick to eat, as well as a few other things. A bottle of water, some health or beauty aids, a few... clothes...

Yes, it was Walmart, and yes, she really missed the old garments she no longer had, but Rebecca Hughes was not a snob. She didn't at all mind browsing Walmart's racks for threads...if it didn't relate to her emotional disappointment. She just still couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe that her less than lofty sarcasm had somehow found its way over Vivian's head, and that even drunk, her Mom had emptied her closet. Especially knowing how much their respective wardrobes meant to both of them.

I mean, for god's sake, how would she like it if I... um...

...Well, she still shouldn't have gone this far. Besides, she already got even with me.

This wasn't right of her. Becky conceded, it might've been one thing if Vivian really felt bad and guilty when the realization came to light. But...she didn't. Her attitude was downright cavalier, and her apology half-hearted at best. Yes, Becky of course still loved her, and yes, it was Mother's Day, but... Vivian still had to pay for this. Even if it was a "misunderstanding."

Becky decided to push past her anguish and find a few outfits in Walmart, for the sole purpose of having fresh things to wear. A rough hour and $65 later, she exited with a few sizable but totable bags. As she resumed the fresh air, something pulled her across the parking lot to the other end. She didn't know what it was or why...until another half-hour elapsed, and she brought her spending total to triple-digits, and headed home. Also carrying a bag of merchandise from the Pleasure Chest.

*****

It's That Time Again

Sunday, May 13th, 2018, 4:11 a.m.

So, she was pulling an all-nighter. If there were obligatory plans the next day, that might've been a different story. But, thought Becky with a smile, there weren't! So she tossed back a little more wine, put on a pot of coffee to counter, and poured a mug. A few sips of each, and she felt more energized and buzzed already. Perfect.

Next stop: the bedroom of Mommy Dearest.

Daughter Dearest adjusted her phone to max brightness, and snuck into Vivian's room with her bags. She could hear her Mom's soft snoring from the head of the snug, satin-sheeted queen-size. Becky brought the wine and coffee in as well, figuring she'd need both. Her heart started pounding in anxious excitement. Phone as makeshift flashlight in one hand, she lifted the far end of her Ma's comforter for a peek. Leopard-printed jammies and bare feet. No socks or slippers.

She should be grateful, she thought. The p.j.s were silk and the sheets were satin. That combination alone made this easier. Becky took another few gulps of wine, knelt to the floor and retrieved the items from the Pleasure Chest, as silently as possible.

She'd purchased four roll-up fuzz-lined leather cuffs, and a length of velvet string to connect them. The store having supplied her with this inspiration, Rebecca felt it only right to literally repay them. Besides, her sneaky mother'd taken her scarves, damn it.

Becky flashed the phone at her Mom's face for just a second, and determined that she was wearing her sleep mask. This was normal, but nonetheless curled Becky's face into an equally sneaky smile. She threw back another gulp of wine, mentally keeping the project from becoming too ridiculous, insane, or perverse. And then stood to get things underway.

She'd threaded the string through a ring on the first cuff, so she placed it at the upper near corner, to the right of her Mom's head. Gently and gingerly as she could, Becky took hold of Vivian's right arm, and guided it into position, lightly but firmly affixing the cuff around its wrist. Gosh, this already felt weird. Her heart went on beating fast and hard as she tethered the string around one of the wooden headboard posts. She let out a relaxed breath when this was done, but still had to move quickly. Hastily and quietly as possible once more, Becky threaded the second cuff, secured Viv's left wrist, and tied it off as well.

Whew. Now she could take it a little easier. She reclaimed the wine bottle and chugged some more.

Oh! Becky realized. Right. She'd wanted to grab a pair of scissors and snip the rest of the string in separate pieces. Praying her Mom didn't wake up before she got back, she pranced off on tiptoe to fetch them.

Her return was punctuated with a "Whew. Yes!" That simple little prayer was answered. Now to continue.

Vivian was restrained by the arms, and Becky's window of finishing before she awoke was shrinking. Her next step was to draw the comforter to the side, grasp her Mom's jammie bottoms by the ankles, and tug. This was where she caught a break. The silky pajamas slid effortlessly along the satiny sheets like butter. Once they came down a short ways, Rebecca snuck a self-awkward peek at her Mom's nether-regions. No panties. Vivian's naked pussy gazed back at her.

"God..." Becky chortled, momentarily turning her face away. This was what she wanted, and yet...yep: awk-waaaarrrrd, she thought, continuing tugging. She knew she now had to go fast. There'd be no time to lose before her Mom was totally secured. She pulled and pulled and pulled a little more, until the bottoms came all the way off and hit the carpet. Taking off her pajama top wasn't necessary—and would've been much more arduous—so Becky left it on. In the meantime, the other two cuffs went around her mother's ankles, were tied together, and threaded.