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This is a female domination story about a controlling and sadistic mother and her son. Yes, there’s fucking. Warning: It’s not a cuddly story, it’s my typical femdom stuff: Pretty dark and mind-y. And it deals starkly with the theme of dementia.
The setting, spelling and characters are all British.
Ben Green came back from Uni with a second-class degree in Computer Science. He had no money left, and no job, so was going back to his mother Alice, even though she lived out in one of the most boring suburbs of London. And she wasn’t the easiest person to get on with.
He turned up at her house and rang her bell. He’d had the keys once, but he’d lost them at some point during his student life up North.
“Hi, Mum!” She looked exactly the same as when he’d said goodbye to her at her door three years ago, almost to the day: Cigarette in hand, black leggings and grey tee shirt. Her hair was a dyed black bob, too youthful for her ageing face. Her red painted lips were downturned in her permanent scowl of disappointment at the raw deal life had handed her.
“Lost your keys?”
“What, not even a ‘welcome back?'”
She turned back into the house. “Come in,” she said begrudgingly.
He followed her in. The familiar smell of that house oppressed him: A mixture of her perfume, stale cigarette smoke, and boiled cabbage.
Silently she made him tea and plonked the biscuit tin on the kitchen table. He took off his jacket and sipped his tea.
“God, you’ve got fat, Benny! All that beer and those chip butties. You’ve put on about three stone!”
“Two. Not three. And I’m going to start the gym next week.”
“No you won’t. You’re just like your father. He was fat and lazy. The doctors said he died of a heart attack, but he really died of laziness.”
She looked at him.
“So how long do you intend to sponge off me here?”
“Look, Mum, I just got my degree, I’ll find some bar work, then I can pay you rent. Or move out.”
“Well, until then, you’ll make yourself useful. I’m not having you poncing off me anymore. You’ll do more than your share of the housework. You told me you learned to cook. So that’s something you can do for me.”
“Right, Mum. Of course.”
“Now take your stuff up to your room. Someone will trip over it in the hallway like that.”
Up he went to his old bedroom, and unpacked. He decided that the quicker he got out of her place the better, for both their sakes.
Ben opened his laptop. Alice had no Internet but Ben still had their neighbour’s WEP password. He went straight to a Sex Chat site and looked to see which models where online. He pushed down his pants and felt his dick as he browsed their images. He glanced up at the bedroom door, which was ajar. Better close it. In fact better get a lock for it tomorrow.
After a wank, he felt less stressed. He went down to the kitchen and found that Alice too seemed to be in a better mood, most likely connected with the half empty bottle of wine on the table. She was reading the paper and humming to herself.
“Hello, Benny! Sorted yourself out?”
“Look, sorry about earlier, I was just a bit on edge. I’m used to being on my own here, and didn’t relish the idea of having to share again.”
“No worries, Mum. I promise not to be a bother. And I’ll help as much as I can around the house. I’ll buy some stuff from Tesco’s and cook us dinner tonight. What do you fancy?”
“Oh, surprise me. And get me forty Bensons while you’re at it, love.”
Ben made them one of his specialities, a Cuban pork curry with rice and beans. He’d used fresh ingredients and all the authentic spices.
She was not impressed. “Bloody hell, is this the sort of muck you lot eat? What’s wrong with steak and chips?”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, I don’t. It’s all your airs and graces; you think you’re all chefs. Next time, keep it simple, keep it British, thank you very much.”
As Ben washed up, Alice lit a cigarette. “So, did you have lots of girlfriends when you were up in Sheffield?” She flicked ash onto her plate. “Lots of sex?”
“You know Mum, I don’t feel comfortable…”
“Oh nonsense. If it makes you feel better, I can tell you, I’ve had nothing for the last three years either.”
“I didn’t say I hadn’t.”
“Oh, come on. You wouldn’t have put on all that weight if you’d been getting some.”
Ben was silent.
“I’m right, aren’t I? Poor little Benny. Poor ‘Big Benny’, more like. What’s the matter? Couldn’t find the right sort of girl?”
Ben went to pick up her dirty plate, but she stopped him.
“I’m using it as an ashtray. Leave it. So what’s your type? Blonde? Big tits?”
“Mum, I -“
“Go on, tell me! Maybe I can find you someone.”
“Well, if you must know, I prefer older women.”
“Do you now! How much older? Eh? My age? What do they call them? ‘Milks’?”
“Yes. Like me. Am I your type, Benny?”
“Mum, shut up. Just fucking shut up. I’m going to bed. You can wash that last dish yourself.”
He clattered bursa escort bayan up the stairs.
Alice laughed and called up to him, “Benny! I was only joking! Benny!!”
Ben turned off the light and lay on his bed, breathing hard. He had to get out of here, as soon as possible. He heard her coming upstairs, slowly. His door opened, letting in light from the landing. She stood silhouetted at the doorway.
“Ok. I just wanted to say sorry. I was just winding you up.”
“Get out, Mum.”
“Ok.” But she came over to him and sat on the side of the bed.
“Kiss Mummy goodnight.” She leaned close to him, and lowered her head slowly, enveloping him in shadow. “My Little Ben…”
She made to kiss his lips. He inhaled her scent: wine, smoke and perfume. He grew hard. At the last moment she changed target and pressed her lips gently on his forehead. She held them there for a few seconds. He didn’t budge.
“Mmm. Sleep well, love.”
Three days later Ben had found a bar job. And some ex Uni friends had said he could move in with them. They were coming to pick him up that morning.
He came downstairs to see Alice sitting at the table, a glass of wine in her hand. She’d been crying.
“Alright?” Ben tried to sound casual.
“No. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I drove you out. I’m just such a—such a -” She choked and sobbed, and took a gulp of wine.
“No Mum, it’s not you. It’s better for both of us.”
“No. It’s better for you. You’re leaving me again. Alone. Like your father did.”
“Oh Mum, I’m only moving to East Ham, it’s half an hour on the bus.”
“You’ll never visit. I know it.”
“I will. Look I’ve got to pack. I’ll be down in a bit.”
Ben went back up to his room packed his stuff quickly and said goodbye to his old bedroom. And good riddance. He heard the doorbell ring. He ran out of his bedroom and missed his footing. He tumbled down the stairs and landed at bottom, dazed.
Alice ran out. “Benny! Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” He tried to reach out his arms to push himself off the ground. But then he howled in pain.
“Mum, I think I’ve broken something.”
* * * * * * *
At the hospital the X-Rays confirmed that both Ben’s wrists were fractured. It would be at least six weeks before they would heal. In the meantime, he would need to keep his hands and wrists in splints. He would need help with feeding, washing, toilet… A carer would be arranged –
“- No need. I can take care of him.”
“But, Mrs Green, I don’t think you realize what it involves…”
But Alice was adamant.
“Don’t worry, Benny. Mum’s going to take care of you. Come on, I’ll take you home.”
In the taxi, Ben looked at his mother. She was smiling.
“What the hell are you so happy about?”
“Oh, I was just thinking. This is God’s way of telling us that you shouldn’t have tried to leave. And besides, I’m going to get £200 a week full-time carer supplement. Doesn’t that make you feel better about it? ”
“Bloody hell, Mum.”
When they got home, Ben ran straight up to the bathroom.
Alice called up to him, “Need any help, Benny?”
“No I fucking don’t.”
But he did need help. He couldn’t lock the bathroom door. He couldn’t even undo the button on his jeans. Alice came in.
“Here. Let me.” She turned him around and undid the top button. Then she pushed down his trousers, bringing his underpants down with them, till they were round his ankles.
She pointed to the toilet. “Sit down.”
“Mum, I just need to pee.”
“Look, I’m not traipsing round after you taking off your trousers and putting them back on all day. So you’re just going to have to not wear any at all. “
She pulled off his trainers and slid his trousers off him. She picked up the bundle of his clothes. At the doorway she turned, looked down at his crotch and laughed.
“Just like his father.”
“Ok, Mum, can you go out now, please?”
“Ok, little Benny. I mean big Benny.”
He turned to pee. He managed to flush the toilet by himself, by raising his foot onto the handle. At least he didn’t need her for that.
She came back in carrying a big shirt, which smelled of mothballs. “This will be easier than pulling your tee-shirt on and off. It’s one of Dad’s.”
She stood beside him and spoke to his reflection in the mirror. “Nice couple we make. You really are the spitting image of Dad at your age. I have a picture somewhere, I’ll show you.”
“But I’m not Dad. You’re my Mum. Not my wife.”
“I know. I’m your Mummy. But you are just like him. Especially down here”. She smacked his dick lightly with her fingers. It immediately uncurled and grew.
“Mum!! What the fuck…”
“Oh, come, on, Benny. I changed your bloody nappies, for Christ’s sake. You think I haven’t touched your wee-wee before?”
“I – don’t – want – you – doing – that again. Understand?” Ben hissed through clenched teeth.
“Don’t you now? I beg to differ,” Alice replied, grinning down at his dick, gorukle escort which was now rock-hard.
“Okay, I won’t smack your willy again. Not unless you get down on your knees and beg me to.”
“Get out! Get out!” Ben shouted.
“Alright. Here’s your shirt, ingrate.” Alice flung the shirt into the puddle of bathwater at his feet and stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door.
Ben sat down on the rim of the bath and eyed the soaking wet crumpled shirt. He sighed. He had to face it; he was stuck. He’d just have to be patient for the next few weeks. In the meantime, he had to try to do as much on his own: The less he relied on her, the less likely he was to be driven crazy by his crazy Mum.
He knelt down and reached his arms inside the bottom of the shirt. He slipped the shirt over his head…
…she’d left the collar button done up, and now his head was stuck inside the shirt so he couldn’t see anything. He pushed the shirt off again. He rested it on his knees and probed the button carefully with his fingers, swollen and red like Vienna sausages poking out of their casts. It was agony just to wiggle them; gripping and undoing a shirt button was way beyond them.
There was no response. He went to the door. The doorknob was impossible to grip. He couldn’t even get out now.
Eventually he heard her climbing the stairs. But she didn’t open the door.
“Mum! Open the door. I’m sorry about earlier.”
“No. You’re not bloody sorry. You just need me.”
“Yes. Yes, I need you. Please Mum.”
“You’re going to stay there until you’re really sorry.”
He heard her descending the stairs. He started banging on the door. After a few minutes he gave up. He sat on the bathroom floor. Then he lay down, curled up on his side and wept until he fell asleep.
Eventually she let him out. She was drunk. Unsteadily, she threw the stub of her half-smoked cigarette into the toilet bowl.
“Sorry now, ingrate?” She said, as she helped him to his feet.
“That’s not good enough. Prove it.”
“What do you mean, ‘prove it’?”
“Get on your knees and beg forgiveness. For being a little ingrate.”
“Mum, I- Oh alright. If it makes you happy.”
Ben got on his knees.
Alice placed her hands on her hips: “Look me in the eyes and say ‘I’m sorry for being a little ingrate’.”
“I’m sorry for being a little ingrate.”
“I’m sorry for everything. Okay? I’m sorry I was born.”
“Don’t take the mickey.” Alice smacked his face angrily.
“Ow. I’m sorry I’ve been so ungrateful and such a burden.”
“…and such a fat loser.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a fat loser”.
“Now kiss my toes and beg me for forgiveness.” She laughed. “Go on. They’re clean.” She held out a slippered foot.
He kissed her toes. “Please forgive me.”
“Now beg me to smack your willy.”
“Go on. Your willy’s gone up again. Stand up and beg me to wank you off.”
Ben stood. She was right: he was rock hard.
“Please, Mum, I beg you… please, I need it…”
“Do you love me?”
“Yes. Please… please…”
“Say ‘I love my Mum and I’ll do whatever she wants, because I’m Mummy’s good little boy.'”
“I love my Mum and I’ll do whatever she wants, because I’m Mummy’s good… little…”
She started quickly patting, patting his shaft. He moaned, but offered no resistance to her teasing fingers. She crooned gently, “Yes, you are Mummy’s Good little boy. Good Benny… getting all excited and hot over his Mummy. Benny needs his Mummy to help him with everything. He likes it… “
Ben, swayed, eyelids heavy. He protested weakly and unconvincingly. “Mum, this is so weird…”
“What’s weird about it? It’s just a bodily function. You have your needs. And you need help. Come on. That’s my good boy.”
She positioned herself behind him and pushed up close to him, so that he felt her soft breasts on his back. Without warning she grabbed his erection in her claw-like hand and started jerking him off, vigorously and rapidly.
“There you are, do it for Mummy. That’s a good boy. Do you like it? Benny? Do you like the way Mummy takes care of… all…” – He started to cum – “… your…” – he exploded, a jet of sticky jizz landing with splat on the mirror – “…needs?”
She wiped the mirror and washed his dick with cold water and soap.
“Come on. I want you to see that picture. Go and sit in your room, I’ll bring it up.”
He sat on the bed and waited for her. As the endorphins from his orgasm faded, he started to feel a sense of self-disgust. He’d just been jerked off by his Mum: Oh. My. God. But he had loved it. He wanted more. He needed it. Jesus what was happening?
Alice sat down next to him with a photo album on her lap. Her thigh was pressed against his. She stroked the inside of his thigh lightly with the fingers of her left, while she turned pages with her right.
“There. bursa merkez escort bayan Look.”
“Yes, you’re the spitting image of my Jimmy, like I was saying.”
“No, Wow. You. Bloody heck. You were so, such a, ”
“Yes I was. What’s this?” She’d felt his cock – it was stiff again.
“Naughty Benny.” She kneaded his balls.
“You know how your Dad liked it? When I took over. And you’re just like him. Aren’t you. Come on, lie down. On your back.”
“Mum, ‘yes’. Come, on, who’s going to know? Except us?”
He lay on his back. “Now you’re going to take care of Mummy’s needs. One good turn deserves another. Tit…” – She crawled on top of him until her U-shaped tits were positioned over his eyes – “…for tat.”
She held her breast with a thumb and forefinger and flicked it back and forth over his nose. The nipple grew hard.
“I used to like breast-feeding you. Gave me orgasms better than your Dad could. By the time you came along he wasn’t much cop. Luckily I had Uncle Pete and Uncle Len.”
Ben absorbed this new fact about his ‘Uncles’. So his mother had been carrying on. Mind you, his mother had been far too sexy a wife for his hard-working, loyal but mediocre father.
“Suck it. Suck it.” She pressed herself over him until he was in shadow, with only her necklace and collarbone in his field of view.
Ben clamped his lips on her nipple and sucked.
“Good boy. Harder. Suck harder.”
Ben lay there, sucking, sucking. She pressed her lips on the crown of his head.
“Good boy. Now come inside your Mummy.”
She shuffled back and manoeuvred his dick inside her. She sat down hard on him, and cried out, “Oh – my – God!!”
Ben spurted inside her and was overcome by a wave of pure bliss.
“Oh, God, Jimmy. Oh my God…” She collapsed on top of him, her head on his chest.
“Your heart’s beating so fast, Jimmy. You’ll get a heart attack one of these days.”
Ben murmured happily, “You keep calling me Jimmy.”
Alice laughed. “Did, I? Well it was just like being with your Dad. The first couple of years, that is. I hope you don’t go the way he went. I was too much for him.”
She climbed off him. He saw her expression visibly harden, almost petrify to stone, as she adjusted her clothes, and he guessed instantly that what had happened was never going to happen again; she had erased it from her mind.
A few weeks later Ben sat in the kitchen flexing his fingers and watching them. They’d just returned from the hospital where they’d finally removed his splints and pronounced Ben rehabilitated. Alice took off her coat and popped a cigarette in her mouth.
“Make some tea. And get me a lighter.”
“Where is it? Your lighter?”
“I don’t fucking know. Just go and look for it. Bloody hell, no fucking initiative.”
Ben filled the kettle and flicked it on and started searching for a lighter. He found it where he guessed it would be, under the sofa in the living room.
He handed it to her. “Here. It was in the living room.”
She lit her cigarette but didn’t respond.
Ben knew her routine; he knew her habits. He’d become used to her fluctuating moods: He’d listen from his bedroom upstairs and work out exactly where she was and what she was doing.
He also knew that now that he was no longer an invalid, she would take every opportunity to make him repay her for the last six weeks of ‘care’ she’d given him.
She’d not done much: She’d never once cooked for him, they’d lived on take-aways, which had done nothing for his weight. But, Ben thought as he squeezed the teabag against the side of her mug, she had cared for him, after her fashion.
And she had fucked him. His first time. And she’d clearly loved it; in fact for a few seconds during her ecstasy, Ben had felt that she had loved him, even if the love wasn’t the maternal love of “normal” mothers.
But after that one time, Alice had become even more churlish with him; perhaps she felt guilt at having seducing him, he thought.
As to Ben’s own feelings, they were a mixture of self-loathing, hatred towards her, an aching yearning for her touch on his skin and her scent in his nostrils, and deep, hopeless romantic love.
All in all, it would be best for both of them if he left, as he’d originally planned.
“How long before I repay my debt for all you’ve done for me?” He asked her sarcastically.
“If that’s how you feel, why don’t you just fuck off now.”
“Look Mum, I, I don’t know what to do. I feel, I feel disgusted with myself.”
To his surprise, she said, “If you mean about our naughty nookie session, then don’t. I helped you lose your cherry, that’s all. And no thanks did I get, by the way.”
Ben was relieved that she’d directly broached the subject that had been unspoken till then. But he replied, “It’s not right. What we did. It’s illegal.”
“Yes, so’s a lot of things illegal. Not like you’re underage though. We’re both consenting adults.”
“I suppose so. But we can’t tell anyone. Nobody can find out.”
“No. ‘Course, if they did, I’d just say you raped me, and they’d put you away.”
Ben took that as a joke: “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“Don’t. Now ask me again how long before you repay your debt. Go on.”
“I said ask me again.”
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