“Look at Mother’s sweet pet.” One of her hands pats the top of my head while the other lowers a silver dog bowl in front of me. “Lap it up, John.”

Everything within me wants to snatch the dish up with both my hands, tilt my head back, and chug the liquid as quickly as possible. It’s painful to hold myself back. Mother said “lap”.

I lower my head and stick my tongue out. When it comes in contact with the fluid, a jolt of pleasure runs through my head. Each small taste just builds upon the other, making me realize what a waste it’s been to drink it all at once. Mother is so smart.

I’m briefly aware of Mother standing over me as I glance at her sleek, sexy legs. Her stiletto heels are just a foot and a half from my head.

Quickly, I’m overcome with nothing else but the desire to get every last drop from the bowl. As I struggle to get to the edges, the bowl scoots away from me. Instinctually, I reach out my hands to stop it.

“Ah, ah, ah.”

When I glance up, Mother is shaking her head. The realization of what I’m doing wrong comes to me quickly. I’m not supposed to use my hands.

Planting my hands on the floor, I press my face back into the dish. It begins moving away from me again. I chase it across the floor until it is up against the wall, and I can finish my drink with ease.

From behind me, Mother laughs. The sound fills me with warmth.

“That’s my good pet.”

* * *

“John, sit.”

I lean back onto my feet, keeping my hands on the floor in front of me, and gaze up at Mother. Her face falls in a sad or pained way that makes my heart ache. My brows furrow in worry.

“Has Mother done a good job taking care of her boy?” Her eyes widen as her lips pucker into a pout.

I wonder if I’m allowed to speak. Not wanting to break character with my role, I opt to nod my head up and down enthusiastically.

She sighs and gives me a tired smile. “That’s good. Mother has tried so very hard. Now it’s your turn, John. Will you take care of Mother? Will you fulfill her needs?”

Without even pausing to think, I bob my head up and down again. I will. I will.

“You will?” She holds the leash handle to her chest with both hands and closes her eyes for a moment. When she opens them, she continues. “It won’t be pleasant, John, but Mother will make it as easy on you as possible.”

My throat tightens as I wonder what I’m agreeing to. It can’t be all that bad. Most everything so far with Mother has turned out pleasurable. What could she want now that wouldn’t be at least a little satisfying for me?

“Follow me, John.” She saunters down the hallway.

I shadow her awkwardly on my hands and knees thinking about how it’s been decades since I’ve chosen to be in this position. Though, I’ve never been like this naked. As far as I can recall, anyway.

She stops in front of the master bedroom door and turns around. Her face beams with anticipation.

“You may stand up now.”

I retake my feet.

“Now, for the next part, we don’t need this,” she unclasps the leash, “but we’ll leave the collar on.” Her shoulders rise with a deep breath. “Are you ready?”

I glance at the wooden door behind her. Am I ready? I can’t find a reason to not be. Since I was allowed to stand, I guess I have permission to talk. “Yes, Mother.”

“Oh.” Her eyes close, and her mouth falls open as if in orgasm. Then she meets my eyes. “You are going to make me the happiest being ever.” She clasps the door handle and slowly twists it open.

I hold my breath, eager to see what’s inside. At first, I don’t understand what the large foreign object that has invaded my parents’ bedroom is. I squint and rack my brain to make some kind of connection.

Near where the stripper pole had been two days before, stands a large, wooden X with thick straps at the top and bottom. The dark stained wood gleams in the light.

“What is it?” I ask as Mother steps aside and motions for me to enter before her.

“This beautiful thing is a St. Andrews Cross,” she responds in a sultry voice as she drifts over to stand next to me.

I still don’t understand. The name holds no meaning to me. “What’s it for?”

“Let me show you. Stand in front of it.” Mother takes my wrist and walks me over until I’m inches from it, nose to the wood grain. She lifts my hand and fastens it tightly near the top of one of its “arms”. Her fingers slide across my back as she meanders to the other side and secures that wrist into place.

Something firm and pointy taps back and forth between my calves, and I grasp that she once again has her crop in her hand.

“Widen those legs for me.”

My insides clench as I comprehend how exposed and vulnerable I will be after I’m locked in a spread-eagle position. With my hands unavailable, I have little choice but to obey. One after the other, I step my feet apart until they’re in place.

“That’s a good boy, John,” she whispers as she fastens the first ankle.

My heart begins racing when I’m fully secured in place, unable to move any limb more than an inch or two. I try to imagine what might be coming next, but I have no frame of reference for any of this. What new game are we playing?

Mother’s heels click as she steps back and releases an appreciative exhale at what she sees. “Don’t worry, John. This will be worth it. Mother always rewards those who make her happy.”

My breath comes quickly. My head swims.

A whip cracks against my back. Unprepared for something so intense, I shriek.

From behind me, Mother moans orgasmically. “Oh, John. That’s so good.”

I pant through the pain.

She comes to stand next to me. Her feverish eyes glow like firelight. She runs a finger under her panties and then slips the dripping digit between my eager lips.

I close my eyes; the taste of it instantly numbs the throbbing on my back making it all worthwhile.

She licks her lips seductively when I open my eyes again. “We never discussed a safe word, John.”

My heart races. I don’t like pain and never imagined I would ever be in a situation that called for a safe word.

“Enough. That is your safe word. If you say it though, that means you have had enough of all of it for the day, John. Use it carefully. However, if you can wait until Mother has had enough, then she will see to it that you are well rewarded. Do you understand?”

She strokes my forehead, her hand soothing on my fevered brow.

“I understand, Mother.”