Mother’s wrath stops me. Without needing to see it, I understand how fiercely cruel she can be. I can’t take my punishment, so I’ll be a good John. The carrot wins over the stick this time.

Besides, She offers so much more satisfaction than my hand ever did. Her rewards give me more pleasure than I’ve ever experienced. An orgasm now, while temporarily appeasing, would never compare to what She could give me.

The rumbles and squeals of indulgence follow me across the field. Mocking me with each step.

While I’ve never imagined it would ever happen, what man hasn’t thought about having two supple, sweet bodies within his reach?

Does Mother know about this secret desire? Will she fulfill it if she does?

Guilt and shame warm my cheeks. Why can’t I be thankful for what I’ve received already? Why do I continually ask for more?

I push through the grass, praying the discomfort in my crotch will ebb.

The field filled with sheep ahead of me provides a kind of distraction. Are these animals friendly?

The only plan in my head is to walk right up to one and toss it over my shoulder. I’m not certain what I’ll do if that doesn’t work.

The herd of fluffy animals disperses when I approach. They clearly aren’t interested in being handled. Do sheep kick?

Mother never did specify what size she wanted. Would a baby do? The small ones might be easier to catch.

I move closer to the nearest one, hoping to surprise it, but the beast darts away out of reach.

Back and forth, I trot across the pasture trying to snatch a lamb.

Each time I get close, they end up slipping through my fingers. Unwilling to return empty-handed, I commit to making the activity a full-contact sport.

With slow, steady steps, I creep up close to one of the sheep. There’s a specific distance at which they’re spooked and make a break for it. When I estimate the animal is about ready to run, I leap, throwing my body at it.

The fluffy beast bolts, but I manage to close a hand around a thin hind leg and hold on. A piercing bleat assaults my ears. It screams like I’m about to slaughter it.

To be honest, I’m certain Mother’s going to kill it. I witnessed her bloodlust the day before. However, that’s not my problem.

If all she requires to continue the kinky games is blood, I’m content to oblige.

I drag the sheep toward me and secure an arm around its belly without releasing my grip on its leg.

The walk back to the house is agonizing. The clouds create intense humidity. Before long, sweat drips down my face, stinging my eyes. My body breaks out in uncomfortable perspiration under the chafing confinement of my clothing.

The three freaks in the field are still going at it as I pass. The male is on his back now while one of the girls rides his hips and the other his face.

Shame and longing fill me in equal measure at the sight of them. Scenes like this are only found in porn.

My dick resumes its attention and, like a compass facing north, it points the way back to Mother. She awaits with something to fulfill me. She won’t leave me wanting. I’ve been her good boy. Good boys are rewarded.

* * *

My breath comes in ragged, aching pants by the time I close the front door behind me. I set the sheep down, ready to give my tired arms a break.

The frantic animal had kicked and bucked against me most of the way back. Not that I blame it. I carry it to its death.

Remembering the rules, I shed my sweaty clothes while the animal inspects the foyer. Now that I’m not holding it, the beast acts like everything is fine and normal.

Until it bleats.

The noise is loud and echoes in the enclosed space, hurting my ears.

“You won’t be making a clamor for long,” I warn it.

Once I’m back in my birthday suit, I herd the sheep down the hallway toward the bedroom. When it’s trapped between me and the closed door, I kneel down and creep along the floor toward it. The animal scampers about, making a horrible ruckus between the bleating and the hooves scraping the floor. Its wide eyes show white, realizing it’s trapped again.

I crawl closer, and the beast attempts to make a break for it by leaping between me and the wall. I tackle it and keep a hold of a back leg while it kicks and screams. We’re both tired, though, and it relents.

I tuck it to my bare belly with one hand and crawl forward on my knees with the other. I open the door and scoot the two of us through.

“Mother?” I call out, finding the room empty.

“In here, John,” she responds from the bathroom.

My cock, flaccid from naked wrestling the sheep, springs to life, remembering Mother in the bathtub with me just three mornings ago. The whirlwind of this weekend feels like an eternity and a flash all at the same time. So many dreams have been realized. So many forbidden secret pleasures fulfilled.

In anticipation of whatever is coming next, my heart pounds against my ribcage.

I awkwardly continue my three-legged shuffle with the sheep through the bedroom and into the bathroom.

Her head, visible above the side of the tub, swivels toward me as I scoot into the room. Her deep brown eyes beneath her full, dark brunette, almost black hair twinkle in delight when she sees the animal in the crook of my arm.

“Oh.” Her hand presses to the base of her throat. “My sweet little boy returned with what Mother asked of him. You are such a dear.”

The throbbing in my groin builds to a painful pressure. I pray relief will be soon in coming. Mother’s rewards are my life now. There’s very little I would hold back from her.

Quick as a flash, here one second and gone just as quickly, my mind forgets what’s before me and searches for my most precious worldly possessions. They remain like shadows, just out of reach of my thoughts.

No matter. If I can’t remember them, they must not be important.

“Who’s my good little boy?” Her voice rises in pitch and exaggeration, setting me at ease again.

“I am, Mother.”

“That’s right. Now, Mother needs John to be a big boy for a minute. Can you do that for her?”

“Of course, Mother.” I nod my head, excitedly, eager to please.

“Good.” Her hand rises and grabs a knife off the edge of the tub.

I can’t remember if I noticed it when I came in. But how else would it have gotten there?

“Stand up and hold the animal by its hind legs over me in the bath. When I tell you, John, slit its throat.”