My Other Mother Ch. 13byAmeaner©
Mum was the most erotic mess when she woke up Tuesday morning. She was still tied, her face, hair, breasts, pelvis and thighs covered with mostly dried jism. She showed me a weak, sore and tired smile and I couldn't help but fuck her again, feeding her the fresh load and watching her gratefully smile as she swallowed every drop. She said nothing the entire time, only moaned and cried out in pleasure, pain and orgasmic release, even when I went to grab a shower without untying her.
I finally did when I returned, dressed and ready for another work day, watching her slowly turn over and go back to sleep with the same smile as before while I ate a hastily warmed meal of vegetable soup.
It didn't really hit me until I was on my way to work. I'd totally used and abused my own mother in every way I'd ever want to sexually use any woman. It was the most fun I'd ever had in my life, especially the look on her face when I was forcing my cock up her perfect, round ass. I wondered if she'd ever been fucked there before with a bright smile, bidding an elderly nun a cheerful hello as she passed on the sidewalk.
It being a cooler, slightly overcast day, there wasn't anybody up for trading their hour long shift on the bucket brigade of one, but I still had plenty of opportunity to think between the muted, brief comments spoken in tones that held the weight of Bruce's death. Of course, this meant the fall of my mood but, thanks to Mum, it didn't fall all the way.
More than anything, it was that feeling of impending doom creeping back in, stronger than ever. It seemed to almost come with the thickening clouds overhead as I ducked into the un-boarded cellar window, the second to last threshold Bruce had crossed in his hard life. The tricky shadows of the cellar served to polarize the last two weeks in my mind.
It was incredible to think that only two months ago, I was this worry free kid just hours out of high school, no concerns about the future, not even thinking about it while raising hell at the grad party and thinking I had all my sexual needs taken care of with Staci in the back of my Hummer. I'd planned on the beach the next day with my friends, none of which were ever particularly close to me, but with whom I was quite popular. It seemed like a dream I once had.
The public media nightmare that Mum and I endured right after the last wild night out with my friends seemed like a blur in that cellar, the details as shadowy as the corners down there as I tried to put together who I was during that time. Especially after it became clear that the investigators wouldn' t share my father's numbers with me, that Mum and I were the only ones expected to cooperate and that they were out to in fact railroad us. After that I paid less and less attention to them, focused on my only friend in life as she focused on me, trying to wait out the wolves at the door with no idea what the outcome would be. We were helpless and even our innocence was no guarantee, meant nothing to the reporters outside our door, the bastards who threw the bottles and rocks at it and our vehicles at night. We never hurt anyone and even Dad didn't hurt those night time vandals, but I suppose they did it because we were easy targets. It's not as though the cops would have helped us.
And that's how we got off the bus in Saint John. Two easy targets. This wasn't only because we were homeless and penniless with no jobs, but because we'd been broken down to feeling that way. We were made to be easy targets by the shock and awe campaign we'd just survived without much more than the shirts on our backs.
After these things came into sharper perspective for me with the benefit of a little hindsight, the timeline of my new life advanced again and I was fairly shocked to see the picture that our experiences in Saint John had so far painted. In two weeks, most everything I thought I knew as reality had been turned upside down twice. Things I never would have expected, much less believed possible, had happened so fast that I barely had time to measure and categorize them, time to deal and rationally move on to the next incredible, stomach churning event or discovery before it was actually happening.
And now things were happening so fast and all at once... I could almost feel something bad coming. It was like sitting on the beach with the family in that nice oil painting I'd seen in the shop window that night. Everything's just fine as I'm checking out the scenic old lighthouse over my shoulder like the others, not noticing how the gulls have retreated like the fleeing lighthouse keeper, vaguely wondering what that deep, far away roar could be as a fifty foot, killer tsunami races for shore.
Perhaps the most worrying thing was how I was allowing him to the surface more often. He was no target, Mum's other son, any more than my other mother was and I realized that I'd been starting to lean on him, trusting him more and more to handle the things that were slowly eroding my ability to cope. You see, there's certain contentment within control, even if it's only a control of your own fears and indecision, but wasn't this just running? Mum didn't seem to think so when she turned herself over to the parasite lock, stock and barrel.
Lastly, I still didn't know how I was going to deal with Marie later that night, but I had to somehow, even though a lot of my fears concerning the immediate future were set around her. I spent the rest of the day thinking about that, coming up with very little beyond an attitude I meant to start with, hoping I could work the rest out from there, hoping I could persuade her in any way necessary of going somewhere else, or at least leaving people alone. I didn't dare allow myself to think about my own vulnerability to her.
On the way home in the light drizzle that had begun a few hours before quitting time, I was back to comparing myself to the kid who smiled for Mum's cam as I received my diploma, marveling at how I'd changed. It was my father's graduation gift.
Mum had the room freshly cleaned and tidied when I got back home. She wore a new nightie, probably one of the things she'd bought with Joe's money. It was black satin and reached her ankles, leaving a lot of her chest showing above the daringly cut neckline. Beginning from her black pumps, a slit ran up one side of her nightwear, right to the top of her hip to show off a narrow band of her pink panties. With those exciting black streaks in her hair, her gorgeous eyes... Oh, yes!
After my shower and supper, during which time Mum was strangely, giddily quiet, I noted with a grin, "Mum... You're walking funny."
" ... Oh my god, you are such a bad girl."
She came over and sat right in my lap and kissed my face here and there before she spoke with a pleased smile.
"I love role play, but sweetie pie... you can't know what that did for me. See, it's not just the sexual acts, it's... up here." She explained again, tapping the side of her head. "To really satisfy me, it has to be up here, too. Sometimes I need it like that and, let me tell you, honey, I've needed that for a long... long time. Thank you so much, you were so absolutely perfect!"
"So were you. You're... I almost believed it, you know."
"Me too. We're so good together."
"The best. But seriously, are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah. A lot better than this morning!" she added with a girlish laugh. "I'll be good as new tomorrow."
" ... Uh, I hate to ask this, but I can't help wondering..."
"Did Dad ever... do stuff like that?"
"Uh, no. No, he didn't have... Well, he tried, but after having to tell him what to do next, step by step, it was clear he'd never really take the initiative. Like you did."
"But... it wasn't me, either. Was it?"
"Don't get wrapped up in that, hon. I told you, I love you both the same and as one."
"Well... Now that I'm sober and stuff, I gotta say I don't regret it at all, or feel bad about it. I loved it and I can't wait to use you like that again, you horny little bitch."
"Heh! Bad boy! Not tonight, though. Give me till tomorrow night so I can be fresh for you. I have amazing recuperative powers, but even I still need a short time."
"I can still suck your nice cock, though. After last night, I need a lot of protein," she told me, squirming in my lap with another dirty giggle.
"All you want, Mummy."
"Mmm. I raised such a good boy."
There were no protein drinks for Mum that evening.
Later on, we lounged on the bed and watched television for a while. After an hour long, comprehensive look at the real and staggering economic crisis in the US, we caught some local news. I was on the way back to the bed with a cup of coffee, shaking my head over a report that had just begun on the suicide of a Saint John woman early that morning.
"Audrey Chapel, of Prince Edward Street, jumped from the Reversing Falls Bridge to her death just past six o'clock am, according to several witnesses. Her body was recovered further downstream just over an hour later; police are not investigating, calling Miss Chapel's suicide, 'sad and tragic'."
The anchorwoman went on to a different story about possible dangers in using those curly light bulbs as my arm slowly straightened to hang lifelessly from my shoulder, the hot coffee pouring out all over the floor at my side.
That was no suicide. This was the horrible, stomach turning reality that I knew it to be, even if the cops didn't. Marie-.
"Honey, what's wrong? Did you know her?"
Poor Audrey had changed shifts with Maureen, an irregularity that the crazy old bat may have become suspicious of...
And there she was, left alone with the twisted, evil Sith Lord who somehow-
"Steven, honey!" Mum asserted, grabbing my hand from the bed and yanking.
I could only stare at her in shock, her expression one of alarm as she drew me in closer, the mug dropping from my hand and bouncing under the bed somewhere. I cooperated, actually laying my head in her lap and hugging the small of her back tight as I squinted my eyes shut against what I'd wrought. Mum could only try to soothe me, stroking my hair and back in confusion and worry. After a few minutes, I slowly straightened up, sitting on the edge of the bed and across from her as she half reclined against the wall. I swallowed and, with my eyes trained on her feet, I began with meeting Pastor Marx.
My eyes never left her feet, not while I told her about my trips to the Library, the dream I had where Marci reminded me that Atlantic Canadians always come back to their shores. They stayed down while I told her about the painting I saw in the shop window, the unexplainable moment I knew I'd find Marie in town, the visit, the following one with the Pastor, and what happened with polo shirt guy and why. I kept them down when I told her of how I knew about her bad dreams, my meeting with Audrey and my plans of going there that night to deal with Marie somehow. Even when I was finished and we both sat in silence on the bed, it was some moments before I could bring myself to look her in the face.
It was like she was waiting for that.
I landed on the floor before I even felt the pain from the sudden punch to my nose, before I had time to even register her expression of pure and unadulterated fury. Nor was there time for my mind to linger on the pain and shock of the occurrence on account of her suddenly pinning me to the floor with her body to continue pummeling my face.
"You fuck! You stupid, stupid fuuuuck!" she screamed.
I did my best to hold my arms and hands in front of my face, but I refused to really fight back. First of all, I was almost pissing myself, suddenly recalling my earlier fears of my new and other mother and I didn't want to make angrier. Second, she was right. I was so stupid and other people had paid the price, herself included. I just didn't see it until the news that evening, until her just, if manically violent, reaction. That's probably the reason I lowered my arms in the end and just let her have a field day. I deserved it.
Almost a half hour later, I sat waiting with a bloody T-shirt held to my nose. Amazingly, she hadn't broken it, but it sure as hell felt like she did along with the rest of my head. The surprising and vague note of how she'd also 'worked the body' persisted in my mind, a sort of ultimately meaningless fact that probably only served as a lifeline for whatever was left to my sanity at that point.
After Mum got off me, she whipped a few plates and glasses at the floor and walls, showering me with their sharp debris before storming out of the room, slamming the door almost hard enough to take it off its hinges. That had been almost twenty minutes before and I sat fearfully awaiting her return, grunting softly at the pain in my ribs when I shifted myself on the edge of the bed. I was tentatively feeling my left eye, reaffirming that it would turn nicely swollen with those lovely, dark shades of black and blue when the door opened. Of course it was Mum, and she still didn't look one bit happy with me. Just because she didn't slam the door behind her didn't mean a thing and, through a supreme effort of will, I forced myself not to shrink away when she sat down beside me, her hip touching mine.
"Did I break it?" she asked in a cold voice.
" ... If you had let me find out on my own about all your... activities," she spat, "if you hadn't at least had the sense and decency to tell me yourself, even after letting things go so far before you did... By god, I wouldn't know what to think of you. As it is... We'll settle this once and for all, Steven. You underst-? Hey! Look at me!"
She grabbed the ruined T-shirt and whipped it across the room, taking my sore jaw in thumb and forefinger, forcing a 'face to face' that didn't include direct eye contact. This didn't help my nerves that much.
"I know you did all these things because of that stupid promise that she roped you into, and that's what we're going to deal with first, young man! Right here, right now! So you listen this time, you got me sweetie pie!?"
"Yes, Mum!" I hurriedly affirmed.
"I've been with her for most of her life! Half of the woman you think of as her, the woman you remember as your 'real mother', is me! When you made that promise, I was mostly absent! Didn't you see that!? I was just beginning to get my feet under me again! That woman who exacted that promise from you is farther from who your mother was than I'll ever be! I am your mother!" And as such, I will now exact a promise from my good son! You will promise me that you will forget about that insane, ludicrous, promise you made to that imposter! I want your promise on that right now!"
I quickly made the heartfelt promise.
Moving her free hand to the top of my head for a semi tight fistful of hair, she continued, "So, you see the sense in what I'm saying, don't you?" she growled, nodding my head for me.
"Yes, Mum, I see the sense in that!" I winced.
"Your mind is now all nicely settled and content where that's concerned, right!?" she demanded, nodding my head again.
"I'm completely settled on that, Mum!"
"So, I'll never have to worry about you running amuck behind my back, making messes in your little efforts in working against me! will I!?" she seethed through her teeth, roughly shaking my head this time.
"Never again, Mum!"
"And we'll never have to get into this again, because this time there's no misunderstanding, is there!?"
"No misunderstanding, Mum!"
After shaking my head for me one last time, she pushed me away more than let me go, returning her eyes and hands to her lap where I hoped they'd stay.
" ... "I understand, you know," she went on with a sharp tone, "how this happened, and I know it's really not your fault, but it's pretty hard for me to not to be mad as hell at you right now! ... I'm just so... disappointed..."
"Shut up," she interrupted. I know how you feel, I'm your mother. I know how you feel about me. And now that you've made this promise to me, you can go on from here with no guilt or second thoughts. Your loyalty is now one hundred percent with me, right where it belongs and always did, right where you want it. Don't you?"
"I knew that, too. We have fun together, you and I. I excite you like no other woman could; the last thing you wanted was to see me go. Yet, you worked so hard preparing to keep that promise anyway, even though you didn't want to. And look what it got you, this... misplaced loyalty to someone who couldn't begin to understand: One innocent, long time victim of Marie, dead. One other innocent, someone who'd befriended you at that, in god only knows what kind of shape and a man shot in the gut, possibly dead for all we know. It's just... I can't even harp on it, it makes me that sick. I won't harp on it because I know you at least have the sense to feel the way you ought to about this, but by god, from now on you're on a very short apron string, mister!"
Mum got up and went to her purse, removing her pint of vodka before returning to the bed. We sat in silence for quite some time, she occasionally taking a drink of the disgusting Russian favourite. I thought of the things she'd said, knowing it was all true, asking myself how I could have let things get so far out of hand for the sake of... what? She sat beside me, staring into her lap, and I could see her processors working, mulling and calculating. Over what, I had no idea, but that would soon change when she finally did break the heavy silence.
"Well... I suppose it's about time we pay the Dark Empress a visit. Hm?"
My eyes grew wide as I looked at her. Was she serious?
"Oh, yes," my mother assured. "You came clean with me because you were desperate for someone to clean up your mess. Well, that's what mothers do, isn't it, Son? But, that doesn't mean you're not going to help. Get yourself cleaned up and ready, you'll tell me all the details I need on the way."
Mum's interrogation was pretty intense, her cold, sometimes rapid fire questions demanding answers like the cops never could. I answered them all as quickly and accurately as possible, providing further answers on seemingly off topic subject matter if asked.
Once she was finished, she began asking my personal opinions on certain things such as Marie's level of power and control, her sanity, etcetera. We'd actually been standing in front of Shoreline Residential for almost ten minutes before she ended her investigation with a long, silent look at the front of the building in her flowing, black raincoat, hood up in the drizzle of the dark gray, early evening. At that moment, if anybody looked like a Sith Lord...
"You know, when Sheila was... my Sheila... she was good. Oh yes. Even after she started running around, once she was with me, I mean with me... when she stepped aside to me and my intellect, she was the best. And when it came time to do the risky stuff? I always knew I could turn my back on my big sister, sure she'd be doing just what she was supposed to be doing, when and where I wanted. That's gonna be you from now on, but most especially in here. You do precisely what I tell you without hesitation."
"You don't look directly at your grandmother's eyes, you keep your eyes on me. You're my safety, not her weapon. You see her put the spell on me, you put a stop to it, you hear? Eyes on me. Always."