A Mother's Love

(I wish to add a warning in this chapter. There is a brief part containing incest so if that is something which strongly disturbs you or you really don't like, I advise you to not read this chapter. You have been warned.)

This violent, unexpected forced dream started out by only consisting of panting and the occasional exchange of moans and words. Over and over again, she kept panting "Michael...". That must have been his first name. He made an attempt to share something with her; some chain of distant memories.

He appeared as a small child, running over to an adult. A stern man dressed in a formal business suit scolded him, stating "Michael, no son of mine is going to run like a wild animal when he should walk like a proper young man. Now then, be a well-behaved boy and carry yourself properly, walk to your mother. She should have breakfast ready for you."

His father sat in the living area reading a newspaper as Michael walked instead of ran, often not being able to help himself. He looked no older than eight in this brief memory. She couldn't believe how similar both he and his dad looked. He was practically a clone only he wasn't nearly as tall or muscular yet. He walked into the kitchen with his hands clasped behind his back, a woman with flowing chestnut brown hair, chocolate brown eyes and sun kissed skin finishing their breakfast wearing an apron and bright yellow dress. Another younger little boy who resembled the woman sat at the table, smiling widely.

He sang along with his mother who hummed an upbeat tune, his dark eyes shining with joy. His dark brown hair was slicked back just as his brother's had been. Michael ate in silence as their mother served them then she hugged and kissed both before motioning for them to come and follow her into their study room. The door closed as all walked in, their mother beginning the lesson while sitting down at her desk. They both had their own little desks opening a reading book to begin with.

Just then the memory changed as an image of the family sobbing in a hospital appeared. The season also seemed to change from Spring to Winter. Once more, the memory changed, a tombstone with the name "Gabriel Bison" etched on the marble stone placed in a winter cemetery. She couldn't see the years underneath his name. She didn't think "Michael" wanted her to. At least, not yet perhaps.

The memory then changed as time seemed to fast-forward, his parents shouting and arguing at one another moving around the sitting boy as he seemed to be neglected, growing older with each passing season. His icy blue eyes looked far more exhausted over the course of six years or so and his coal black hair, rather disheveled.

He got up from the couch in the living room setting down a medical book on the coffee table, walked into his mother and father's bedroom and found his mother laying on her back naked. She lay there, writhing in pleasure, touching herself. She moaned wildly, reminding him of an animal in heat. He recalled watching animals mate, learning about the cycle of life in turn, just last year. He knew very well where babies came from at this point. He still walked in anyways, violently opening the door, allowing it to slam against the wall.

He had often not only been studying in his spare time but working out as well. In fact, he had taught himself so much that he had quickly advanced to a college level of learning. Neither parent cared that he took a bus to a nearby private school, both parents agreeing that to be the best course of action on his twelfth birthday. After those violent, brief memories from the rest of his childhood had occurred in rapid succession, he strode over to his mother with clenched fists.

A look of shock painted her face as she attempted to pull the covers up over herself concealing shame. Her brows arched in sympathy, that same sultry alto, alluring voice calling out.

"Michael...I didn't hear you enter. I'm sorry if you saw something you shouldn't have."

He stared blankly at her body, undressing himself and getting into bed with her. His suit fell to the carpet with a gentle thud, muscles well-toned. The young man was nearly as tall as his father, standing at a height of 5'10. Both men towered over Hymera who stood at an average height of 5'6. He gently pulled at the covers as she gasped in shock, now covering her chest with her own arms.

"Michael! Please stop this! Be a good boy and get dressed!"

He pinned her down, producing a cloth saturated in chloroform from a clenched fist, forcing her to inhale the scent. She briefly struggled but then quickly lost consciousness only moments later.

Yet another brief memory of him studying in medical school surfaced. After class ended he sneaked into a storage unit, stealing a bottle of chloroform along with small packets of gauze and cloth. He had the full intent to put these to good use, including rope he bought with his allowance at the local hardware store.

Whenever his mother woke, she was tied up to the bed posts, the knots sturdily kept in place by his practiced skill. He sat there by her side watching his sleeping beauty, imagining her as his goddess. He certainly had taught himself many things over the years...Also patiently waiting for this moment.

Her eyes widened in terror at the sight of him stroking himself to her naked body, an evil, malicious grin spread from ear to ear.

"Aren't you impressed by not only my intellectual ability but also my natural endowment, Hymera? Don't I look just like the man you had once loved? Are you seeing me now, mother? Are you paying attention now, fucking slut?"

He indeed had a natural endowment, all seven inches while erect. She averted her gaze still in disbelief. He was nearly as big as his own father.

"What would your father think, Michael? I'm...I'm sorry I haven't been showing you the love you have needed so desperately but...I'm just so hurt by what had happened. Your father is as well and we just...We couldn't move past it. I tried being there for you, baby, I really did but you're mamma just didn't know what to say..."

He grabbed her jaw upon hearing this, trailing the head of his manhood along her lips.

"Oh, I know, Hymera, I know. You still fed me and clothed me, doing what a devoted mother had to while daddy ran off with one of his many whores when the two of you weren't fighting or screaming at each other over Gabriel's death. An incurable disease killed him and all either of you could do about the situation was blame each other for self-inflicted misery. A type of incurable fucking cancer killed him...and that's all you two could do.

Well Hymera, I'm here now. Are you going to blame me? Scream at me?"

She closed her eyes out of guilt, the woman's gorgeous sun kissed skin pulling him in further...deeper. He wanted to violate his own mother. He knew he would be going to hell for this but it didn't matter. She may have neglected him somewhat but she at least tried to care for him when not sobbing uncontrollably or moaning uncontrollably while giving self-pleasure just to cope with the loss of a son. The father obviously didn't give a damn. He planned telling her what happened to the pathetic creature after having his way with the very woman who birthed him.

"Michael, please reconsider your choice...I'm your mother! Why are you calling me by name?! I gave birth to you! This isn't right! You're only fourteen for God sakes!

He silenced her with his manhood plunging himself into her mouth forcefully grabbing onto luscious strands of hair. His pale, ivory skin resembled that of his father's. He'd make sure to change that soon after his second semester of medical school, picking up an outside summer job.

"It doesn't matter anymore, "Mother". I don't give a fuck what's considered to be morally right or wrong. It isn't ethically wrong unless I impregnate you which would be considered incestual and highly immoral as well. I do wish to satisfy your needs, yes, but I will not sully your temple of a body, my goddess. What are you? At least a B-cup? What perky, young breasts you still have, Hymera...my darling."

She began crying while struggling against her bindings further, his member twitching in delight as he heard her beg him for the first time. It was also his first experience with someone at his mercy...His own mother, no less.

He pulled out momentarily as he listened to both himself sliding in and out of that enticing mouth and her muffled pleas, now hearing her out. As soon as she caught her breath, she voiced her pleas, desperate for him to listen to logic.

"Think about what you're doing now, please! It's not too late, my son...This isn't right..."

Tears began falling from her watery doe eyes, causing him to feel a sting of pain. Everytime he saw her cry it wounded him deeply. Nothing else made him quite as weak as this...

Anger at last erupted. Buried rage that seemed long forgotten violently reared its ugly head causing Hymera to become frightened.

"Why won't you let me make you feel good?! I'm right here in front of you, offering myself to you! How the fuck is it fair when Damon is running around, fucking his many whores while you suffer?! Fucking tell me!"

He seized her neck brutally with both hands, holding with a vice-like grip. He stopped doing this upon realizing how badly he hurt her, beginning to cry himself as he fell against her gasping body, holding onto her for dear life.

"Why mom?! Tell me!"

He sobbed with great remorse, peering up at her solemn, angelic face.

"Honey, we all cope with pain in this life in our own way...I know this is no excuse for his unforgivable behavior but that's just the way that things have become. Still, despite this grim fact, we must forgive others who have wronged us or perhaps continue to in order to heal...Please my love, untie me. You're hurting momma..."

He buried his face into her neck, smelling that sweet, intoxicating aroma of honeysuckle in her hair...Honeysuckle. Everytime he smelled that, he would always think of her.

"Please Hymera, forgive me one day. I'm so sorry, mother. I can't stop."

He gently suckled her breasts, reached down to her clitoris and rubbed until he could wait no longer. He knew she had been soaking wet. He rubbed his member against that forbidden entrance of hers, ceasing movements elsewhere, now focusing on plunging deep inside. He did have his release after a short time, pulling out before emitting fluid inside, doing so onto her stomach.

Another brief recollection of how he had comforted his mother while telling her of Damon's suicide flooded into her own unwilling mind for his final childhood memory. There they both sat in Damon's study, his mother crying into a comforting shoulder, the man's lifeless body swinging from a rope tied to a beam. He stared at the man, uncaring even still as they waited for the police to show. An officer knocked on the door escorting them outside for further questioning.

He talked with the mother in private until back-up showed removing the body from the premises. The two spent the remainder of the day comforting each other, Hymera humming sweet lullabies to her son as she combed his hair after the boy bathed, massaging him then each other in unison, both falling asleep in a compassionate embrace.

Li's eyes opened in a terrified panic, the "dream" feeling much too real for her liking; not to mention feeling more like a nightmare. She looked at her master with wide eyes, reminding him of the way his own mother looked at him the moment before he coerced her into making love- that and when he shattered his "little darling's" wrists. Sure, he knew it wasn't right what his mother and him had done but at least it helped take away the pain.

After a long, pregnant pause, he at last broke the silence, emotionlessly stating "She died two days after my twentieth birthday. In two more days, she would have been forty. Unless you're wondering what had claimed her life, it had been the same type of cancer that had claimed my brother's. I understand this is no excuse for the way I choose to live my life now. If anything, that woman did her best to help prepare me in life, despite suffering in her own pain and anguish. I chose this path because that's how you survive when existing in this cruel, merciless concrete world. No one will dare oppose a vengeful god and be victorious. No one."

He glared at her while remaining seated, his lips parting slightly before inquiring "Which brings me to my next inquiry, what will you do to have your hands mended, my Spring?"

She wasn't sure if she could even utter a single sound after having witnessed those ruthless, unpleasant memories. A minute later then something at last came out, a strangled chirp of a sound at first then a few words which delighted his ears, bringing a great deal of pleasure.

"Ah...Whatever you want, Pappa. I want to help you feel better..."

A warm expression met her gaze. The dimly lit room adding a peculiar sense of comfort...Safety, even. The feeling did anything but console the panicked lover. She felt that all he could offer would be desolation and despair...Unless somehow, she could break though to him. To that trapped, angry, scared little boy inside; still remaining pained after all these years.

"That's my good little lover...Yes..."