The Flaming Girls Ch. 02

Chapter Two - From This to This

Walter Middleton was a mommy's boy. His overprotective mother smothered him with love and he adored her. She was a socialite who had inherited quite a sum of money when her husband had died young, drunkenly driving his sports car over an abutment. The press played up the fact that there was also a pretty young model in the car with him when it crashed.

Mary Middleton put all her efforts into spending her husband's legacy and doting on her son. He went to a public school and excelled at everything he did. Walter was fit and handsome and by the time he entered his late teens he was being considered as a potential spouse by a number of well-to-do young women.

Walter suffered migraine headaches for which the doctors had been unable to provide a remedy. When he was younger he would crawl into his mother's bed and she would close the curtains and turn out all the lights and cuddle him. Her soft body, billowy satin nightdress, her perfume and her soft lips on his brow was the only thing that comforted him.

Mary Middleton was a striking woman with a voluptuous figure, a flaming red mane of curly locks and striking blue-green eyes. The vultures had circled when her husband died but she resisted any temptation to remarry. Not that she didn't like men, she adored men and Walter hated every man who wooed his mother.

He'd sit outside her door listening to her moan like a slattern while she entertained her latest beau, he would seethe with jealousy and hatred for his mother but the hatred would turn to love as soon as he saw her. His headaches had abated as he grew but returned with a vengeance when he turned eighteen. They were so bad that sometimes he thought he'd die.

Mary found Walter curled up on the floor of her bedroom one evening, sobbing with pain. She knew what worked for him and she slipped out of her dress and took him into her bed and cuddled him. Walter curled up in the comforting arms of his mother, the solace he found having her curvaceous body pressed to his returned. The familiar smell of her perfume, the feel of her satin full-slip against his bare skin, the slippery softness of her nylon stockings against his legs, red lipsticked lips pressing on his forehead dissolved the agony in his head.

Mary felt her son become tumescent against her, something she was quite familiar with but not with her son.

"I love you mommy," he sighed and Mary felt her love for her boy wash over her.

If letting him cuddle her while she smothered him with devotion bought relief from the demons in his head then that was a small price to pay. She felt him rubbing his erection against her and she knew that it was wrong but she would do anything for her son.

"Here; let mommy," she kissed his cheek and took his hard penis in her fingers.

She used her fingers with feathery deftness and soon felt the warm ooze of his spend on her hand.

"Lovely mommy," Walter sighed and snuggled up to her and fell into a peaceful sleep.

Whenever Walter was home from college he seemed to be plagued by migraines, particularly if Mary had a gentleman caller around. His mother knew what they were doing was wrong but she'd do anything for the love of her son. She started wearing sexy lingerie to bed and allowed Walter to rub his body against her and then she would use her hand to bring him relief. Walter would then invariably fall into a deep, comforting sleep.

After a while Walter started using his hands on her, stroking her thighs and squeezing her breasts as he humped against her. She let him ejaculate against her stocking-clad thighs if she was in the mood, knowing it bought him relief. Then one day his hand glided across the front of her tight satin panties.

She slapped his hand away.

"No Walter! You must never touch mommy there, ever! Do you understand?" she scalded him.

Walter nodded, looking sheepishly guilty.

"There, there, my lovely boy; let mommy help you," her fingers went to his manhood and Walter growled with pleasure.

This thing they had between them became a sick fascination. Mary would get around the house dressed in a satin housecoat, lingerie and heels, letting the garment fly open to reveal her long legs clad in shimmering hosiery and her pubis clad in an ever changing repertoire of underpants: tight satin full-cut panties, see-through nylon French knickers, rayon directoire-knickers, and very rarely bikini panties.

The forbidden area between his mother's legs fascinated Walter and he became frustrated that she seemed to delight in showing it off to him but any attempt he made to touch her there resulted in his hand being slapped away. One day Mary found a pair of her panties under Walter's pillow. They were stained with his semen but instead of being disgusted she smiled to herself. He became careless, leaving snails-trails of silver semen in the stockings she left hanging over shower-rail, taking her underwear from the clothes hamper and returning it soaked with his semen, he didn't care that she knew.

Rather than reprimand Walter she teased him and encouraged him, he was in her bed most nights when he was home from school with real or feigned migraines that needed his mother's special remedy.

"You never tell anyone what we do together do you Walter?" she would ask and he would always shake his head.

Walter was becoming frustrated, but worse; he was fixated on his mother. Thoughts of her flaming red locks, her emerald-green eyes, her body clad in silk and satin, her long legs sheathed in glimmering sheer stockings but most of all, the deep V of her pubis, filled his every waking minute. His studies began to suffer and he was unable to engage with his friends and dating a girl was out of the question; none of them compared to mother.

Mother and son were both suffering from guilt but were unable to stop. Mary treated her guilt with alcohol but Walter began to have increasing fantasies about fucking his mother whether she wanted him to or not. In fact the images in his head of his mother trying to fight him off while he defiled her began to replace the images of her lovingly soothing him.

But if he did the unspeakable... if he crossed that boundary... if he committed the ultimate sin... no one could ever know. They must never speak of it. He would need to make sure that she never told a soul, not even in one of her drunken soirees.

Walter's thoughts became darker and dangerous. He was going to fuck his mother, make her scream for not letting him do what she knew he wanted desperately to do, make her regret teasing him and then taking away the prize he desired, longed for, deserved! He'd sniffed it, he'd tasted it, but only when he stole her dirty panties of course; he'd even seen the outline of it through the gauzy nylon and satin. Her cunt belonged to him and he wanted it!

Being an intelligent being Walter took his time and hatched his plan. It would need to be perfectly executed if he was to get away with it.

On the evening he had selected he plied his mother with alcohol, it was easy, she loved to drink. As usual she was wearing her housecoat, stockings and suspenders, panties, bra and high heels. Her makeup was heavy: dark eyes, rouged cheeks, bright red lipstick. She teased him, allowing her housecoat to open so he could see her thighs and the V of her pubis covered in pink satin panties. Walter was hard.

He told his mother that he felt one of his headaches coming on and could they to her room so she could work her magic and sooth the deep pain slicing into his head. This time he didn't have to fake it, he genuinely had a tremendous headache. He wondered if it was because he knew what was coming; what he had planned.

Walter stripped naked and his mother took off her housecoat and kicked off her heels and held the bedclothes open for him to join her.

""Come to mommy darling; let me take away your pain," she whispered through those red lipsticked lips.

Walter slid into the bed beside her and his mother enveloped him in her arms and kissed his forehead as he inhaled her scent. His cock was pressing on her sleek stockinged thigh. He was allowed to do this and he began to hump his mother's leg. She reached for him, ready to bring him off in her hand hoping he would fall asleep as usual but tonight was different.

When she took her son's erect penis in her fingers, instead of easing away from her a little so she could stroke him, he rolled on top of her and pinned her to the bed.

"Walter! What are you doing? Stop that!" Mary could feel her son's cock prodding between her legs.

She slammed her legs shut, but it was too late. All she had achieved was trapping Walter's hard cock between her legs and he continued to hump her satin-sheathed mound.

"You know you're not supposed to do that Walter," she wriggled underneath him but she couldn't break free.

What's more, by wriggling and bucking like she was, she was stimulating her son further, his cock was enfolded in her labia, the satin panty fabric stimulating it and she had to admit that she too was aroused. She always was when she did what she did with her son and usually she rubbed out an orgasm when he fell asleep or sometimes she just came when he spurted against her body.

Maybe she would just let him come against her panties; he hadn't penetrated her so they had not yet committed the mortal sin. She actually liked the feel of his hard flesh pressing into her cunt, rubbing on her clitoris through her panties.

Walter had other plans however and he pressed his feet between his mother's ankles and forcefully opened his legs, forcing his mother's legs open.

"No Walter! No!" she screamed.

He let her. There was no one in the house to hear her and their house was a walled estate so they had no neighbours.

"Ok mother; here we go," Walter pressed his lips against hers but she shook her head trying to stop him.

The lapse of concentration as she tried to stop him kissing her meant she stopped focussing on trying to keep her legs together. Walter eased aside the gusset of his mother's satin panties and entered her.

They both stopped struggling.

He looked down at his mother, her flaming red hair framed her face, fanned out on the pillow like a blazing halo, her green eyes burned with hate or desire, he wasn't sure which; maybe both. But they had now committed the ultimate sin, even though Mary had tried to resist. Her cunt was his finally. He had the part of his mother that should have been his all along. A single tear rolled down his mother's face but Walter didn't care; he liked that she was crying.

He pressed his lips to hers and this time she didn't resist. She let him kiss her. He crushed his mother's lips with his, tasting her lipstick and then her sweet breath tinged with gin as he slid his tongue into her mouth. Her cunt was warm, moist and tight; clinging to his cock, he could smell her secretions.

Walter fucked his mother. He pressed himself against her body wanting to feel her breasts against his chest, her silken thighs against his, her lips on his lips. Her vagina clutched at his cock almost like it was reluctant to let his swollen organ leave her wet, warm passage. He'd bring it all the way out and then push it all the way in, delighting in the feel of his mother's labia opening like the petals of a flower as he pushed himself inside her.

Mary couldn't help how her body responded to her son's assault. He may have been a virgin but he was fucking her as well as any of the men she had invited into her bed, maybe better.

She surrendered and wrapped her arms around her son's body and lifted her legs to his flanks. She slid her tongue into his mouth. Walter loved the feel of his mother's body against his and her response to his fucking her. But why hadn't she allowed him to do this before? Why had she teased him? Why had she withheld what was rightfully his?

"Oh god Walter this is so wrong but this is so good," his mother moaned.

Walter fucked her harder, he was close to coming and she was getting wetter and the stench of her cunt was getting stronger. Walter pushed his mother's head down on the pillow and held her there by her shoulders as he jackhammered his cock in and out of her. He wanted to see her face. He watched her face contort with lust, her eyes light up with wanton lechery. She wrapped her nylon-sheathed legs around him tighter and bucked beneath him. Her sodden panties rubbed against his scrotum.

Mary orgasmed and Walter came with her. Her cunt quivered and pulsed and gripped his cock, expressing the huge load of ejaculate he had saved for tonight. Walter gazed down at his mother's face; a mask of ecstasy. His cock was on fire, his orgasm incredible, like nothing he had ever felt.

Walter quickly reached beneath the pillow and found the knife he had hidden there. Mary never knew what happened to her. Walter was so quick with the knife that her neck opened like a sluice gate and her blood gushed over her body and sprayed onto Walters face. She was aflame, her red hair glowing her blue-green eyes glittering and Walter spontaneously orgasmed a second time.

When he had finished he cut open her belly wanting to disfigure the part of her that she had denied him for so long; he didn't know what he was doing but he found satisfaction in it anyway. He removed her panties and the wedding ring from her finger and went to the bathroom to shower.

When he was clean he changed into fresh clothing and took down the small suitcase that he had already packed with his most precious possessions. He put the stolen panties and the wedding ring in the suitcase for safekeeping. Walter went back to the bedroom and drenched his mother's body with mentholated spirits and tossed a match on her. Her body held no interest for him now that the lights in her eyes had extinguished.

Walter took the suitcase downstairs and smashed all the liquor bottles on the floor and threw some newspapers on top of the puddle of spirits and tossed matches at it until it was ablaze.

He left the house and took his suitcase over to the old barn and hid it in his secret hidey-hole than he sat on the manicured lawn and watched the fire take hold of the house. When it was fully ablaze he ran down the long curving driveway to the road and began to scream.

Walter was a good actor and when a car pulled up the driver was convinced that Walter was absolutely devastated by the fire engulfing his house and was genuinely concerned and distressed that his mother might still be inside. He was inconsolable and incoherent for nearly a week which wasn't an act. He genuinely missed his mother but when he snuck back to the property and recovered his suitcase from the barn it didn't hurt as much. When he fondled the ring and sniffed his mother's panties he missed her not at all because in his mind she was with him.

Mary Middleton was the first of the Flaming Girls. There would not be another one for fifteen years but there would definitely be more.

*****

The doctor removed the bandage from Charlie's throat and looked pleased with himself.

"I've done a bloody good job there if I do say so myself," he inspected the scar and poked at it with gloved fingers.

A pretty young nurse holding the instrument tray cooed and preened, agreeing with the doctor; obviously infatuated with him.

"That big red scar will begin to fade and the lumpiness will disappear leaving just a thin silvery line across your throat. You seem adept at makeup Miss Ringwald, I'm sure you'll conceal it well," the doctor actually smiled at Charlie.

Charlie wondered if he realised that he had called her 'Miss' or if it was just an instinctive response now that she was able to wear makeup and feminine attire. Today she was wearing a powder blue chiffon teddy and matching nylon knickers of which the doctor got an eyeful when he pulled down the bedclothes to inspect the wounds on her belly. She was deftly tucked and the doctor spent an inordinate amount of time studying her pubic area, obviously wondering where her genitalia had disappeared to.

"That will be all thanks nurse," he dismissed the pretty little thing and her disappointment was evident.

"I'm leaving the dressing off your throat, you may cover it with a scarf when you go out but I want it to get plenty of fresh air until it begins to fade," the doctor fussed with her chart.

"I've put a lighter dressing on your stomach which is also healing well. The internal injuries will trouble you a little until they fully heal but nothing too painful, just the dull ache you describe."

"We'll remove the dressing from your abdomen next week and then you'll be free to go. You'll just need to make follow-up appointments with your GP and come back to the hospital if your pain returns but I doubt it will."

The doctor was smug and full of himself. We walked over to the door and clicked the lock.

"I told you that I'd be releasing you to the public ward as soon as possible and I can longer justify you taking up a private room," the doctor stood over her.

"You're putting me in the public men's ward, even though I look this?" Charlie asked.

"I'm sorry I can't put you in the women's ward because you aren't one; although I must say you are a magnificent creature," the doctor slid a hand along Charlie's thigh, onto her hip, along her body and then lifted her chin.

"Quite beautiful," he stared into her eyes.

"Exactly! What do thing is going to happen to me in the men's ward!" Charlie said angrily.

"Yes. I can see your conundrum. If only there was a way to keep this private room for a few more days until you are discharged?" the doctor smiled like a crocodile.

Ever since she had been kicked out of home Charlie had faced discrimination and prejudice. Because she was a transvestite every man she met immediately thought that she must be promiscuous. She had turned to prostitution out of necessity, when she wasn't working the streets she didn't lie around all day and think of cock.

But she was a pragmatist. She traded her body for money; hell, she had even traded the story of her vicious attack for money. What she was about to do was nothing but trade.

"So I presume that if I provide you with a service, you will let me keep this room. Sort of quid pro quo?" she smiled up at him.

The doctor just nodded.

Charlie eased herself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and reached out and opened the doctor's lab coat and unzipped his fly.

"There's a good girl," he smiled down at her.

"You are quite the pretty thing," he sighed.

Charlie freed the doctor's penis from his trousers and put her lips to it. She used her tongue on the delicate fraenulum and before long was rewarded with a globule of clear sweet pre-ejaculate as the member became fully engorged. Charlie thought the doctor's penis was rather pathetic given some of the monsters she had dealt with; it was probably why the doctor over-compensated in other areas.

She traced her tongue around the corona of his glans and the doctor groaned and put his hands on her head and encouraged Charlie to take him in her mouth. Charlie obliged and he began to frantically fuck her mouth.

"Take my cock you tranny whore!"

"Suck it you dirty bitch!"

"Swallow my load you slattern!" the doctored howled obscenities which bounced off Charlie like feathers off a carapace.

The doctor plunged his cock in and out of Charlie's mouth viciously. Had he been well endowed she might have choked, but his meagre offering was easy for her handle but she knew that this man craved subservience and deference so she feigned a fearful look and pretended she was choking whilst lashing at his penis with her tongue to invoke his orgasm as quickly as possible.

He pulled her face into his groin and held her there while he ejaculated a sad little puddle of sperm into her mouth. The doctor released her as soon as he had finished coming and Charlie spat his offering into a glass on her bedside table.