I definitely need another drink. Or ten.

My phone vibrates. It’s another message from Meisha.

“Is the appraiser still there? Are you doing okay?”

I put my phone back in my pocket. Am I doing okay? I honestly think I’m going crazy. Having delusions or illusions or whatever they’re called. Nothing about this is okay. I need some time to clear my head.

After I pour a sizable glass of scotch, I peruse my dad’s study. A built-in shelf with a mix of books, ancient and modern takes up almost a whole wall. Some of them might be worth a considerable amount. The appraiser will be able to give me an idea of how much when he comes back next week.

Next week! Why am I staying here another week?

I answer myself: because I was told to. And the teller was compelling.

After another sip of scotch, I wonder if I should see a therapist. All these repressed childhood memories coming back have me thinking crazy things.

I was never abused as a child, but I obviously had a very unnatural attraction for my mother. Why else would my crazy ghost dreams have her starring in them?

Obviously, my mother was a very attractive woman, especially when I was still a young boy. She aged quickly after my father’s death. But again, it wasn’t until her eyes changed that I started to be sexually attracted to her. I think he found her more attractive after that, too.

They started having sex all over the house. I remember looking for my baseball uniform when I was in high school and walking in on them having sex on the washing machine. And I mean I walked all the way in.

I was so shocked that I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. Dad grabbed a dirty towel to cover himself and threw one at my mother. She pulled it up to cover her naked body, much too slowly as if she wanted me to have her breasts burned into my memory, and slipped the tip of her index finger into her mouth. Her eyes never left mine.

“Fuck, John, get out of here, you’re getting aroused by your own mother!” Dad pointed at my crotch.

It was true. My little John was standing up and proud. I had to masturbate twice that night in order to fall asleep.

Looking down at myself now, I notice my little John is reminiscing at the memory, and my glass of scotch is empty. With a sigh, I fill my glass and sit down in one of my father’s chairs. I set the glass on the end table, put my feet up, and close my eyes.

“Mmm, looks like you were thinking about me.”

My eyes fly open, and I’m staring into her deep, dark ones.

She straddles me, wearing garters with black stockings and a corset from which the top of her smooth breasts bulge. Her hips grind against mine, making my pants uncomfortably tight. She gracefully turns around and teases me with her bare cheeks. The tiniest little satin string is the only thing covering her backside.

“You can touch me, John.”

As if her words were a command, my hands slide along her luscious curves. I grasp her and pull her onto my lap. My erection begs to escape. She bends forward, reaches between her legs, and frees me.

“You need to know something, John,” she purrs as she pushes her little panty aside and straddles me. I groan in pleasure at her tightness dripping around me. “This is your last freebie.” She rocks her hips deliciously. “From here on out, you will learn to listen and obey.”

The waves of ecstasy coursing through me make it difficult to do anything except agree with her for fear she will stop. I mumble my assent.

“That’s a good boy, John.” Her fingers delicately cup my balls and stroke them. “You will learn to comply without hesitation. And the rewards for obedience will be great. Erotic heights you’ve never experienced before.” She raises her hips till only my tip is at her wet opening and hovers for a moment before lowering herself down my full length and crying out in delight.

“The next thing I require of you is to bring your family here. Your wife and your boy.”

“My family–?” I begin to question but clamp my lips shut. It’s still too late.

Her hips stop. She stands up and turns around, bringing her face close to mine, her eyes burning a hole into my inner thoughts. Her breasts sway in front of me. My eyes drop to the swell of them with desire. I want to bury my face in them.

“Consider this your first punishment, John. Don’t question me again.” Her hand brushes down over my face, making my eyes close.

When I open them, she’s gone.

My erection is not. It is hard and urgent with the need to empty and spill. After looking around the room to verify she isn’t watching from nearby, I grasp my cock and begin a steady up-and-down motion.

It doesn’t satisfy. The stroking is mundane and almost numbing, boring. My testicles begin to throb, demanding gratification that refuses to come.

I double my efforts.

My arm begins to ache; sweat pours from my forehead. I’m on the verge of an orgasm that will not release. The sounds that escape my lips are now cries of pain. Tears join the sweat on my face. Climaxing is no longer a desire; it is a must. My head is dizzy as the blood continues to pump to my penis. This might be the hardest I’ve ever been, and I ache to finish. I need to finish. I will do anything to finish.

But completion escapes me.

Minutes keep ticking by. Sweat soaks me from head to toe. My jeans stick to my legs uncomfortably. My arm begs me to stop, but the pain in my groin is too great. I need to release this tension.

Gradually, it becomes clear that there’s only one who can help me. Maybe if I beg? Apologize?

“Mother,” my voice comes out weak and pathetic. “Please, Mother. I need you.” I close my eyes and grit my teeth. A soft hand falls over mine stopping the agonizing effort.

“Tell me you’ll obey, John.”

After a great sniff, I nod my head. “Yes. Anything.”

“Anything?” Her hand gently strokes my shaft, just once, and for a moment, the torment turns to pleasure again.

“Yes. Anything.” I look up, my eyes pleading with hers.

“What did I ask you to do, John?” One single finger runs from base to tip and back down bringing partial relief.

I tremble and respond. “Bring my family here.”

“And you’ll do it?”

“I’ll do anything. Please. I need you.” Unable to stop myself, I buck my hips towards her, begging with my body for her to take care of me.

She pushes my legs apart with ease and lowers to her knees in front of me. “You are mine now, John. You will never again climax without me.”

I bob my head as if I understand, but it’s just a desperate move to get her to quit teasing me.

Her warm mouth descends over my erection and takes the whole of it inside. Seconds later, I cry out in relief.

She grins up at me, allowing a trickle of cum to escape the edge of her mouth, which she wipes up with her finger and licks off. “Sleep well, John.”

I fall into a stupor.

* * *