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In the refuge of my bondage, cocooned safely inside of my submission, I tell my angel of mercy everything.
With the gentle strength and grace that only a true mother possessed she listens to my words and shares my pain. Though she feels the sting of my words as keenly as I do, her hazel eyes exuding compassion and showing that she shared my pain, she doesn't cry or swear or judge. She simply listens and soothes and keeps me tight against her warm soft body. Now was not the time for her own emotions. For her boy she had to be strong. With a selfless power that leaves me humbled she somehow lifts the crushing burden from my shoulders to bear it herself, for a time at least. When it is all over I am shaken and spent, but I feel...reborn.
The words eventually dry up to leave us in a serene intimate silence. Somewhere along the way the tears had stopped but my Mommy continues to console me and pet my soft clean hair. We gaze and we bond for a stretch of time in the calm after the storm.
"Well...that was a long time coming." She speaks only once she sensed I was well and truly done. "Thank you Donald."
"Thank you?" I say, my voice froggy from the weeping.
"It takes a lot of courage to trust so deeply. Thank you baby." She hugs me, she hugs me tighter than she ever had before. "I am so sorry for what you had to go through. You did not deserve what happened to you. It's not your fault Donald. It is not your fault. None of it."
I let out a shuddering sigh as I melt into her body. My mind already knew the truth of what she said but my heart desperately needed to hear it.
"It's not your fault. You did everything you could, for yourself and for your sister. You survived Donald, it's all anybody could have done." She kisses the side of my head. "And you are not alone baby. You are loved." She kisses me again. "I love you Donald." And she kisses me again. "You are a good boy."
"Ohhhh Mum."
Cradling me close she does what comes natural to her and begins to rock me and hum a sweet little lullaby. I give myself over to it, allowing her to care for me. My catharsis was complete. The wound in my soul had been opened up by my submission and willing vulnerability, purged of infection by my confession, cleansed and sterilized by Mommy's love, and now sutured and dressed with that final 'good boy'. The scars I would carry for the rest of my life but the real healing could now, at last, begin.
To be continued...
- COMMENTS
nthusiasticover 1 year agoI know this is fictional but it saddens me to reflect that there are monsters like Donny’s mother in real life. In a world where one can be anything, be kind. Thank you for sharing your talents with us.
Anonymousalmost 2 years agoAbsolutely incredible, what an amazing piece of work this is. A+ for effort does not do it justice.
