I am Timothy: your... Ch. 02

"That simple!"

After that we had a great lunch as Grandma showed a fascination of the dastardly things that happened at sea. She heard about how ships hijacked each other's cargo in ports, and why a favored using smaller ports. She listened in delight about minor politicians paying more than they could afford to not have their orgies on board revealed. The stories about what captains had smuggled left both grandma and grandad speechless. When I showed grandad how to bake vinegar pudding and explained why all the captains and I learned to cook they were rolling with laughter.

Two chefs had carved their way into forensic history by stabbing each other with kebab skewers half an hour before casting off. the reason for the fight was stated as being an argument about who forgot to order the kebab cubes from the butchery. Widely speculated though was that the argument was more probably an issue about who would be sleeping with the apprentice chef or who forgot the sex lube. To substantiate this was the fact that it happened in Algiers where homosexuality was illegal and that both chefs had stabbed each other in the ass. Grandma expressly told mom to make sure I visited more often as we left after lunch.

"Tim what do you think of BDSM?" Mom asked as we paused at a security store.

"I can't see what's sexy about pain Vivienne." I said following grandma's advice.

"What about the rest?" she asked.

"Safe, sane, and with consent? Great... I try not to knock something I never experienced. Until I know the nitty gritty I'm open to trying. What I hated seeing was the stupid petty things subs got punished for, a lot of it was simply because the dominant felt like it and set the sub up to fail. I have been hurt, when I ran my sailboat aground; those were serious injuries and recovery took weeks. The pains took over my whole mind and then the only thing was to rid of it. The only way I kept going was lots of very good pain pills. It did do one good thing though. Everything unimportant got stripped away."

"Really? What was unimportant?"

"Everything, except getting here and nailing my father. I mean here Vivienne, with you; not here to nail anybody."

Mom hugged me and leaned against me as we shopped. I noticed the looks from people in the mall. Too bad for them. I was questioned by the barber as I got a haircut about mom who had gone to buy something. I just said she was a special lady who got me to the US to study engineering, he bought that: an immigrant himself from Algeria he thought little of it.

A cop stopped us as we were walking and asked for my identification, when I showed him my passport he was clearly suspicious and radioed it in while mom waited to one side with his partner waiting beside her. He got confirmation that my passport was real and let it go.

"Damn kid! You're lucky for a knockout like her. Maybe I should go into sailing." He said; it was quite a compliment.

He was just putting the cherry on a fantastic cake. Throughout the shopping I was holding mom and she me, it felt awesome! I had not realized how pathetic shopping alone was until then. The changes in what we shopped for were also huge. Where I had always shopped for what I needed and that had taken a few minutes we shopped around for what was available, what was nice to have, and what could go work in some places. I loved looking at the Christmas decorations and just taking time to feel the emotion of the season. We were on the way home when we really said anything much again.

"Do you know why mom was so interested in that stupid voyage Tim?"

"Possible business angle for the charter company?"

"Maybe, but more than that she owns a school for BDSM. They mostly take couples. They use an old hotel at the moment. Its' going to get torn down soon though."

"OK. So they need to relocate."

"You know how you asked me about those times I was out of touch?" Mom asked nervously.

"Yeah I figured it was something like a family crises you were counseling and couldn't talk about it."

"I teach at the school."

Mom was driving and bit her lip when she said it. I looked at her and her nervousness. Our social media chats came into focus suddenly. A lot of them had been around who would be in charge. I had been straight up about being in charge on my boat. But I had often said that her home was her ship and she was the captain. For the first time I wondered what more than a small smuggling sideline grandma had dug up about me.

"You're awesome! What do you teach?" I said.

"You're not upset?"

"Absolutely not Vivienne. I-"

"Cut it Tim. In private, call me mom. You want to and I love it."

Mom was serious about that. It was fine by me.

"Yes mom. So uhm, grandma was looking at sort of a house master pair? Like English boarding schools?"

"Something like that yes. She knows I hate being the head mistress, I teach about housekeeping skills and do the counseling. It was my idea, but I hate running it. Most of my grief counseling is for BDSM couples who break up. I hate petty punishments too. Some submissives get off on that though."

"So are you actually a submissive?"

"I'm called a switch. Do you know what that is?"

"Yes, and the name really says it all mom."

"Yes it does. What will you do when schools starts again in March?" Mom asked nervously.

"No mom. That is not the question. The question is what I do until March. I know the navy is selling a few vessels in late January on open auction in Norfolk. I want to be there anyway to buy a few light freighters to get our cargo fleet going. There are a few other ships on the block, two light hospital ships that were made to be frontline field hospitals in Vietnam. And several yachts taken off drug barons in South America. If I can get one those the school is on, I might only need to trim for it, maybe two or three weeks in dock. The nice part is that it could relocate. Somewhere like Brazil over these winters and somewhere like New Bern or Wilmington here in spring. I could break the route in. Then I just need to learn about BDSM, and I have a teacher."

"Jeez Tim! You're fast! Slow down! Go through that again I missed a lot. Never mind, what did you mean about a... never mind." Mom said.

Mom was quiet as nerves got to her again. I had no idea why she would be nervous now.

"Tim? I never dominated a guy like you. I mean a guy... oh shit, I never thought it could be so difficult. Tim, I have no idea if I could. Do you really want to?"

I put mom's hand on my crotch to answer. She accepted the answer with a slow smile. She started asking about my curiosities what I thought of things. I was a little disappointing I think because the only things I was dead against was having another guy involved, drugs, and hypnosis. At supper we discussed times.

"Mom? The school, it doesn't train for hour long scenes right? It's a lifestyle coaching center, it counsels relationships; it trains according to specific needs. It coaches specific approaches for dominants right?"

"Yes, why?"

"Then should we not live it? I mean I understand that we need to learn about limits and tolerances. But we can maybe set a time for discussion and live like the school coaches?"

"Timothy; that is a huge step to take. I would love to, it's where I struggle because I have never done that before. I do think you should dominate on board ship."

"That's several months away mom. When do we have talks?"

"Breakfasts. When do you want to start?"

I accepted the breakfast idea.

"I thought we already started."

"No Tim. We start with a specific event. For most it's signing a contract or putting a collar on. We can do that, it's just going to take time to get you a collar and for us to write a contract."

"Should we write something down? Like I'm the captain on board ship and you're in charge everywhere else? Or can we figure that out as we go and get it all sorted out in say six months?"

"Yes we can, but then how and when do we start?"

"Mom, you'll think it's strange given that I don't like pain. But could you whip me? You decide when."

"Yes, I could. But why?"

"Mom, if smuggling birth control pills into Portugal is all grandma has, she doesn't have much. A lot of what I did to get here was horrible. That Bronco? Is part payment for one of the horrible things I did. I do have a conscience mom. It might be different to most people but it is there. Please don't let me feel guilty going in with us." I asked quietly.

Mom looked at me and her eyes went all teary again. She nodded in understanding.

"It's not good carrying guilt around, I know. Yes I'll whip you for us to start. But Tim, this one will be until I decide you have had enough. Not until you think you did."

"Thanks mom, could we make that a rule or something? Punishment will be carried through? I mean if I use Caligula, fine stop. But then when I've recovered or something it gets finished? Maybe change it for some other punishment if I just cannot handle the punishment, but it carries through."

Mom smiled at me and hugged me. We kissed and nearly burned the stir fry I was making. We ate with mom finding out what my housekeeping skills were. Cooking was about as much as I really knew. I had tried laundry once but had mixed colors and whites with peculiar effects and smilingly mom told me what I did wrong. I could iron my own clothes but was hazy when it came to women's clothes and fabrics like silk or wool or some of the synthetic fabrics.

Mom showed me her dungeon after supper, in the storm shelter of her house. It was somewhat frightening although nothing like the dungeons on the internet. The most obvious feature was a large and comprehensive first aid kit at the door. The second most obvious was a whipping post near one wall with a mirror against the wall.

"The mirror is to see the face of the woman I'm whipping. It's not because I like to see her expression. It's to see when she stops expressing pain, it means I must stop because she is on the verge of fainting."

"She mom?"

"I never brought men home with me. A girl from time to time, yes; if she had nowhere to go. It happened few times when relationships broke up at the school. Or when she got kicked out in the middle of the night. Honestly it was more for the look. None of them were game to try me in here."

I could believe her. There was a thin film of dust in the dungeon. Nothing was brand new but everything was unused.

"You put this together for my father?" I asked.

"Stop that! You're too damn sharp!" she said upset.

I hugged her and kissed her tears. She just burst into tears even more. She thumped my chest with the side of her fist and cried out aloud in pain.

"I loved him! He asked for this! He encouraged me and played me! Why? Why! Why! Why do this to me?" she cried thumping my chest with every why.

I couldn't answer; I could only hold her and let her find comfort in knowing that I was not the same man as he. I tried taking her upstairs but she wouldn't budge. She just stood rooted and cried.

"I never wanted to be a dominatrix! He wanted it! Then when I wanted nothing else for us he took you away with him! Had he asked I would have helped him with the scam! I would have taken Maria into our family too! Why?" she cried out.

She stared up at me demanding answers. I had none. Instead I picked her up and carried her up the stairs, her arms folding around my neck. I sat down with her on my lap and drew her head against my chest and let her cry in huge sobs that shook her body. I stroked her hair and made soothing noises until she stopped shaking.

"Mom? We discussed a lot. I'm completely happy to carry on with what we discussed but if you're not prepared go for it please don't. I want you mom, I need you happy. If you want to throw all that in the dungeon away, that's fine. If you want to leave the school, we can cope. I have the charter company, we can go to the Azores if you like. I am not going to force anything." I said gently.

She snuggled into me as I spoke quietly and held her. I silently swore at my father for what he had done to mom. I wondered how I was going to fix this as she buried her face in my chest and curled into a ball of pain at my father's betrayal.

"Mom? Can you move your head please?" I asked.

"Why?" she mumbled into my chest.

"It's really difficult to kiss your pain away with your head stuck just below my chin."

"I'm not three!"

Scratch that approach.

"Let's go upstairs, I want to show you something." I said.

"Fetch it." she said with her face still in my chest.

"I can't, you're sitting on me. Let's go upstairs."

Reluctantly she stood up and went with me. I went to her bedroom and undressed. I stood in front of her stark naked. She looked at me and looked away again.

"Look at me mom, take a good look. Come on look. There, do I look like my father? You need to answer mom."

"No. He was always chubby." She said.

I moved to her and kissed her in every way I could. She started getting turned on by the kisses and started kissing back.

"Do I kiss like him?"

"No!"

I started feeling her up, caressing her under her clothes. I started undressing her and she helped as I fondled her breasts and kissed her, I stroked her back and ran a finger down her sides then pushed her panties down. She breathed fast as I kissed down her body while sliding her panties down. I ran my fingers up her legs after kissing her mound and getting to my feet again. My hands wandered through her pubic hair and then my finger slid between her legs to feel that she was wet. I pinched her clitoris lightly; she shivered and closed her eyes rocking on her feet as my other hand slid behind her and supported her lower back.

"Do my hands feel like his mom?" I asked in a whisper beside her ear.

"Oh god no!"

I led her to the bed and lay her down on her back. Her legs spread without me even prompting as soon as she was lying down. I mounted her and slowly penetrated to my full extent. I paused there and looked at her, tears were running out of the corners of her tightly closed eyes.

"Do I feel like he did?" I asked.

"You feel so much better!" she cried.

"I'm not my father mom, nothing about me is like him." I said as I thrust slowly.

I built a little speed and felt her moving with me.

"I cannot answer for him. I cannot get him out,"

I thrust harder and faster. She cried out and clung to me.

"I can only put everything I have into you! Do you want that?"

"Oh fuck! Tim! Screw me! Yes! YESSSS!" she screamed out and wrapped her legs around my waist.

I started thrusting as hard as I could. She held on crying out every time I reached full depth. Her finger nails dug into my back when she had an orgasm releasing a long primal scream, she tore the betrayal from herself with that scream. I felt it building from her vagina and the ear shattering release left a vacancy in her being that that sucked me in and welcomed me. She made herself ready to be my home as we built to the next climax.

"Cum warrior! Cum in me! Come home! Oh god yes!" she cried out as her second orgasm started.

I erupted in her before that orgasm ended and lay spent. I had given her everything I had and she knew it. Somehow she rolled us over and lay on me kissing and making little noises between the kisses like a puppy. She calmed down after a few minutes and lay still beside me as I stroked her back with one hand. She would probably have played with my chest hair if I had possessed any, a major difference between my father and I, instead she played with my nipples.

"You are Timothy; my man!" she said and turned the light out to snuggle close and let us sleep.