Wire-Pulling Pt. 01

When they came out of the salon, my eyes immediately widened and my mouth fell open. Because, suddenly, there was my mom like I remembered her from the day I left that damn house. She still didn't look particularly happy, since she was still the embodiment of insecurity as she waited for me to comment on her new/old look, but, somehow, a lot of the little wrinkles around her eyes and the corners of her mouth were just gone. And it didn't look like they covered it up with make-up. It was more like those wrinkles had been caused by her earlier facial expression which had now slightly lit up. They also dyed her hair, which got rid of all the gray that had developed in the four short years she was alone with the Dick.

"Well," I started after pulling myself out of my memories. "That seems like it was very worth it."

As soon as I closed my mouth, Mom positively beamed at me before she turned to smile brightly at a very smug-looking Ava.

"Th... Thank you, Paul," she said shyly, looking at her feet again, but I could still see that the smile had not left her face. How long must it have been since she last got a proper acknowledgment of her efforts, that those simple words had so much of an effect on her!?

"Moving on!" Ava proclaimed, before grabbing Mom's hand and dragging her into a clothing store.

"Wait!" I called out and Mom stopped instantly, causing Ava to stumble a bit thanks to the sudden resistance. "Pick up a few cheap extra clothes. Nothing fancy, just stuff you would wear to relax at home."

Without questioning my instructions, the two of them nodded and walked off to spend over an hour browsing the store with the expressed goal of gathering at least two weeks' worth of clothing for Mom. During that time, we regularly saw Ava hold different articles in front of Mom, seeking my approval. Honestly, that weirded me out. But what I found even more curious was that Ava, just like Tim before, was asking ME for MY approval of my mother's clothing. And what absolutely baffled me was that mom let it happen. As if she didn't have her own sense of fashion anymore, even though I CLEARLY had no idea about women's clothes.

At some point, though, they moved on to the underwear section, and that was when things got really weird. Ava was, even now, holding different kinds of lingerie and flimsy sleepwear in front of my mother before daring me to give my opinion of it. The whole thing kinda escalated when she picked up something that looked like it was clearly meant for a honeymoon, held it in front of herself, and looked at Tim, her brother, for approval.

Which he gave with a smirk by showing her a thumbs up! Seeing this, I chose to take a page out of his own book and annoy him a little bit.

"Your sister's hot," I said, expecting him to protest. Instead, he simply looked me dead in the eye with the same smirk still present and nodded.

"You should see her actually wear that thing."

That stunned me. I did not expect that kind of answer.

"Okaaaaay?" I replied, trying to get a read on him. "Weird. But... okay."

"You think?" He sounded like he was genuinely asking. He genuinely didn't understand why I would find it weird for a guy to advertise his own sister's hotness. "She IS objectively attractive, isn't she?"

"Well... yeah. Sure. That's why I said it, after all. But... you're still her brother."

"So?" He shrugged. "Look at it this way. Ava and I didn't have a proper brother-sister relationship since this whole crap with my family started. Which, as you may know, has been a long ass time. I avoided her and the rest of them since long before she turned into... that." As he said the last word, he waved his hand up and down her body while she was trying out yet another set of barely existing underwear. "And we only fixed those issues a few months ago. We were basically strangers by then. So, it's easier for me to stay objective when it comes to rating her attractiveness."

"Well... If you say it like that..." I conceded while trying to look anywhere that wouldn't make me seem like a pervert in the eyes of all the passing female customers. And, as I was thinking about what Tim told me regarding their relationship, I remembered something. "You know, it wasn't nice to let her stand in the hallway for two solid hours."

"No, it wasn't. I wanted to make a point, though."

"Huh? What point?" I asked, now even more confused than before.

"I wanted you to see it for yourself." He paused for a second and then fixed me with a look before continuing. "Ava is like your mom."

That caused my body to tense up.

"You mean..."

"Submissive to the point it affects her everyday life. Yes."

"Wow," was all I could reply for a moment as I processed what I just heard. "How... I mean..."

"I can tell you that it is learned behavior. She wasn't born that way. She enjoyed being dominated in bed, but it was cultivated so thoroughly it went beyond the bedroom."

"What!? Who would... Why?" I was still unable to form full sentences, but Tim seemed to know what was going on in my head as he let out a heavy sigh.

"Let's just say there were multiple reasons why I was so eager to move out of my family home as soon as I could risk it."

Now I was in total shock. He couldn't possibly mean what I just heard him imply. I knew that his family life in the past was shit. I had seen the bruises on his body when he started working at the firm. I had heard his insecure stuttering when he was talking with people he didn't know. That would fit with the explanation my brain had just come up with. And, when I checked in on him after he moved back home, he had told me that his father and brother were 'gone now, so life at home got better'.

And then I remembered all those little clues I had picked up but was too occupied with my mother's case to think about. How close Ava and Tim had gotten after he moved back home. The, at first, seemingly innocent kisses she gave him every time they were together. How his hand, as I now realized, WAS gripping her ass the day I came over to go through the photographs. I didn't know whether I should run or comfort the guy. But then his voice ripped me out of my thoughts.

"Paul,... do you remember the day we became neighbors?" he asked without looking at me.

"Sure."

"I was completely clueless. I showed up with my clothes, my computer, and my gaming chair, and that was it. I didn't think about bringing a blanket or even a pillow to make a bed with. There were neither food nor cooking utensils in the kitchen. Hell, I didn't even bring toilet paper." He chuckled while shaking his head. "The only thing I thought about was to get out of that house. But it didn't matter anyway because, when I arrived at the apartment complex, you were standing in front of the building, waiting for me. You knew I wouldn't have shit prepared, and you were there to help me. And now... It's about time I return that favor."

"What do you mean? How..." I started, but he interrupted me with the answer.

"I've been where you're going, Paul." He took a deep breath. "Very, very soon, you'll have to make a decision. Between the time I fled that house and the time I moved back in, a lot of crazy shit happened. You know some of it, but that's just the PG13 reader's digest version. Truth is, after I did a lot of stupid crap to deal with my brother's legacy that almost got me killed twice, Ava... kinda... fixated on me. That's why she was happy to stand in the hallway for two solid hours, as long as I was the one who told her to do it. And, after everything I've seen so far, I'm pretty sure your mother has fixated on you."

I think I just stared at him wide-eyed for a full minute while my mouth made that fish-out-of-water thing, before I managed to break out of that spell and speak up.

"Okay... I'm not sure how... I mean, you were..." I stammered while he patiently observed my attempt to form a single coherent sentence. "Wait! What do you mean, I'll have to make a decision?"

That question caused him to release another heavy sigh before he nodded.

"As I said, that... behavior Ava and your mom show, is not natural. But, once they reached this stage we're seeing right now, there's no way they could just turn it off. It's like trauma. They need to work through it, and they need help doing it. Your mother will look at you for directions. She will ask you for permission on basically everything. They had worked Ava for almost two years before shit at home hit the fan, and, as far as I understand it... Your mom has been beaten into submission for twelve years."

I pondered his words carefully before internally admitting that, if what he had said about Ava was true, this really wasn't looking good for my mother.

"But what decision were you talking about?" I finally asked, still unclear on the details.

"Here's the deal. If she's anything like Ava... and if she truly fixated on you like I think... She will do anything to please you. And she just spent over a decade under a controlling asshole who did his best to turn her into a submissive toy."

"I'm sorry, but what the FUCK, Tim!?" I could barely keep my voice down. "She's my MOTHER!"

"Remember what I said about Ava and me barely knowing each other by the time we started fixing our relationship?" he asked, and I nodded. "Well... how long has it been since you and your mom have spent any meaningful time with each other? How long has it been since you had a proper conversation? How different is she from the woman you called 'Mom' back in the day?"

He asked me that in a decidedly calm voice, not fazed in the slightest by my outburst. And I had to admit that I had pondered that very question quite a few times during the day. Though, before I could form a response to his question, he spoke up again.

"You can judge me if you want. But I'm telling you this so you can prepare yourself." He paused to study my facial expression. "Having a woman in your home that you know would do whatever you ask of her, no matter what and no matter when, can be... tempting. It appeals to us on a purely primal level. And it gets you thinking, no matter who the woman is to you. Maybe I'm weak or deranged. But, after serving them for two years, Ava knew how to press a man's buttons. And she was willing to use that knowledge on me if it offered her a way to make me happy. Your mom's been serving the senator for twelve years. She's not only starved of acknowledgment but, in your case, probably also desperate to make amends for what happened in the past. Think about what the senator has most likely taught her about what being a good woman entails. She WILL tempt you. Maybe not intentionally, but I'm sure it will happen. And then you need to decide where you want to go from there."

I fought the thoughts that were flooding my mind. I wanted to deny everything Tim had just claimed. But, deep down, in a dark corner of my brain... I knew he could be right.

I knew she was my mother, but I had also spent the entire day realizing how hard it was to still see her as my mom. I knew it would be horrible of me to take advantage of a woman in her state, but the thought of having someone that eager to please me...

No, I had to stop this. This was all crap. There was no way this would actually happen. She may be desperate to please me, just like Tim said, but, even if I had trouble seeing her as my mother, she would have to see me as a man instead of as her son. There was no need to worry. And, even if everything was as Tim had laid out, there was still the issue of me hating the woman for abandoning me. So... End of story.

And, as if on cue, Ava and Mom showed up, carrying arm loads of clothes they had deemed worthy over to the cash register. I followed suit, shaking off Tim's warning and actively avoiding thinking about his relationship with his sister while I handed my credit card to the clerk.

After that, the ride home was especially quiet. Even after we arrived at the apartment complex, where Tim's Jeep was somehow waiting for him and Ava to drive home themselves, the only form of goodbye was a short nod before they turned around and left. I just... I didn't really know how to talk to the guy at that moment.

Once in the apartment, Mom just stood in the hallway waiting for me to tell her... something. My mind immediately went back to the conversation I had with Tim in the clothing store, and I hastily walked into the kitchen, suddenly afraid of her actually asking me for instructions. Though, as I opened the fridge in search of something to do, I facepalmed.

"God damn it. I forgot that the kitchen is empty," I mumbled to myself. I moved in here the day before, which was a Sunday, so I didn't have a chance to go grocery shopping. And today, when we spent almost two hours in the mall, I forgot about it after the revelation of Tim's home life.

"Do you want me to go buy some things?" I heard my mother's timid voice from behind me, which was accompanied by an equally timid posture when I turned toward her.

"No," I said in a voice that was a lot sterner than I had planned after seeing the way she carried herself in front of me. "I'd rather you don't go outside by yourself unless it's absolutely necessary. Keep in mind that we're still not sure whether Dick is having us watched."

"Of course. I'm sorry," she immediately conceded while lowering her head as if I had scolded her. Needless to say, it worried me.

"We'll just... order something. You can go take a shower until it arrives," I proposed with a now strained voice, and, instead of just agreeing with me as I had expected her to, I saw her eyes flash up in worry for some reason. Whatever it was, I needed to put a stop to it. "You've just got out of jail. It'll probably mess with the work the hair stylist did on you, but I imagine you're dying to have a relaxing, undisturbed, and, most important of all, private shower."

It worked. Her expression relaxed as she nodded and grabbed the little bag that held all of her newly bought toiletries.

"Let me just grab a change of clothes for you. Who knows how many people have already tried on the stuff we bought today. Let's give them a proper wash before you wear them," I explained, and, again, she just nodded before stepping into the bathroom.

After I grabbed a pair of boxers and a shirt, I hadn't expected her to have already started undressing. She knew I would be right back with her change of clothes, so why would she?

I wasn't prepared for what I saw after entering the bathroom. She had started undressing herself the moment she got in there, and she didn't care about me seeing her do it. Though, what I saw disturbed me for two big reasons.

I saw scars across her bottom, the back of her thighs, and, after she turned towards me, her stomach. I was already very much aware that the bastard hit her, but, as far as I knew, he had only used his hands on her. Everything else, like his belt, had always been reserved for me as he demanded his woman to be flawless. Those scars, however, were clearly the result of something long and thin breaking her skin. This shocked me. Not only because of the marks it left behind but mainly because I immediately understood that this wasn't in any way surprising. I should've realized a lot earlier that Dick would be the type to use tools in order to inflict more pain.

I couldn't take my eyes off those scars while mentally beating myself up over this. For the first time since I left their house, I started to doubt myself. Before I left, I had spent years trying to convince her to leave the prick. I begged, pleaded, and tried to stand up to the asshole, but, in the end, it was all useless. So, after I left her behind, I never looked back. I was convinced there was nothing more I could've done, even if I had gone back for her. But now, seeing this, and understanding what she must've gone through all alone, with no one to help her...

No! This was on her. She chose to stay with the man who was abusing her, even after he started abusing her son as well. Those scars were the consequences of her own actions. She had no right to complain, just as I had no reason to blame myself.

I couldn't even understand why anyone would do this to her in the first place! Mom wasn't just submissive; she was thoroughly subservient. She did everything for the asshole. And I could clearly see that she worked hard to remain attractive for him as well. Even with the scars marring her body, she was still remarkably good-looking. And not even for a woman approaching forty. There were absolutely no stretch marks or discolorations on her skin. If it weren't for those thin white scars he inflicted on her, her skin would be flawless. Her belly looked soft, but she didn't look overweight in the slightest. Her breasts were full, but there was no sagging whatsoever.

Though, looking closely, I also noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her body below her head. Since I doubted that she would be able to shave her entire body in jail, those were probably lasered off. Consequently, I had to ask myself how much of her appearance was thanks to a capable surgeon's work, hired by Dick to maintain his possession's appearance. What definitely wasn't the work of a surgeon, though, was the fact that she even sported a proper thigh gap, which made it absolutely impossible for her to hide the swell of her sex unless she actively covered it.

Which she didn't even try to do.

As I took in her naked form, letting my eyes roam over her, they eventually fell onto her face. And that's what made me realize what I had just done. She was watching me with a neutral expression while I was busy admiring her body. She didn't make any attempt to stop me or to even hide herself from me. She just... let me see whatever I wanted to see. I almost expected her to start a slow twirl so I could properly inspect her.

I momentarily pulled myself out of my shock, quickly placed her change of clothes on the sink, and made my escape.

"What the fuck..." I mumbled while pinching the bridge of my nose before stumbling into the living room, where I just slumped onto the couch to mindlessly stare at the turned-off television.

"This is all Tim's fucking fault!" I thought to myself. "I wouldn't even notice any of this if his little cautionary tale hadn't placed those thoughts in my head!"

After a few minutes of very active denial, I pulled out my phone. I remembered Mom liking Chinese when it was still just the two of us living alone, and I hoped that hadn't changed since then. Next, I checked the recordings of my apartment's surveillance and didn't find anything suspicious, so I took the opportunity to go up and place a few extra toiletries in my bathroom, as well as the extra clothing we bought for Mom in my gaming room. Then I took an extra blanket and pillow and made a fake bed for Mom. If someone were to come to check out my apartment, it would surely look like she was using the couch in there to sleep, with her toiletries in the bathroom supporting the ruse of her stay at my apartment.

Happy with my work, I walked back down into Tim's apartment to wait for the food delivery. Though, when it arrived, she was still in the bathroom with the shower running. And when she finally got out, wearing nothing but the shirt I had put out for her, I had trouble even looking at her despite what I told myself while waiting. I couldn't even eat in peace, because my eyes kept involuntarily drifting towards her naked legs. Of course, only to make sure there weren't more scars that I hadn't noticed before, and definitely not because I was developing some kind of sick fascination with my mother's naked body.

Suddenly, her legs spread a little in a way that did not seem like it was to adjust her seating position. So, I looked up at her face just to freeze. Mom was, again, watching me, and apparently decided to give me a better view.