Trigger warnings apply*

Author's Note:

Ugh – this is so hard to write and I haven't seen many fics out there exploring the alleged mother-son sexual abuse. Don't read if this will trigger you and I hope

you'll be understanding about my first attempt at writing this taboo subject and I don't get it too wrong.

There's something especially twisted about a mother molesting her son. Poor Lyle – he may have escaped Jose early compared to tortured Erik (not that these

means much) but he couldn't escape Kitty.

This is fiction based on the series but I may have changed some details because I don't know them or to fit my story. Not based on the actual Menendez brothers or

on the documentary.

Please leave a review if you want to even if it is to tell me how to improve or what you would like to see happen. x

Reason 2 - Mother

Lyle was reading in his room when his mother entered his bedroom without even knocking.

She was wearing shear white lingerie showing off her figure of a 20 - year - old half her age and garters with suspenders. Her nipples were visible. Not that he was looking. He could

smell her scent here and he knew what she wanted from him.

He fucking hated that perfume of hers - Poison. But the name was apt, he guessed.

Even though Dad was away and would be coming home tomorrow, her face was freshly made up with the expensive lipstick. Her hair had been coiffured that day in the salon. In her

hand was her trademark glass of red wine – '80 Opus One, Napa Valley, Bordeaux Blend Red at nearly 900 dollars a bottle.

He did his best to ignore her and pretend to be engrossed in his car magazine. A red racing car had caught his eye and he planned on asking his father to buy it for him on his 17th

birthday in a couple of months.

Of course, this didn't stop her sauntering over on her blood-red stiletto heels and thin black stockings. They didn't really go with white.

'Lyle?'

'Yes?' He replied politely, not looking up.

She did a drunken swirl and a grotesque kind of curtsey and a twirl, no doubt a parody of former self when Dad discovered her.

It made him recoil inside but he couldn't help see it out of the corner of his eye even as he prepared to save her, luckily, she righted herself without his help

She took a large swig. 'Do you think I'm pretty?' She asked him.

'Yes.' He still refused to look up.

'Stop that.' She reached to grab the mag but he pulled it out of her reach just in time.

'Do you like my new lingerie? Your father brought it for me back from Paris.' She struck a seductive pose like a 1920's showgirl star.

He stared at her but not for the reason she thought before he looked quickly away.

'Sure.' He picked turned another page.

She pounced forward and raked a scarlet painted fingernail down his cheek, drawing a little blood.

He had to react then and drew back. 'Mom, I'm trying to read', he said mildly.

'Fine then.' She set her head straight with chin jutting out indignantly as flounced out of his room, draining her glass to the dregs.

Lyle checked his cheek in the mirror – not too bad, wouldn't scar and breathed a sigh of relief. He thought she would just take a few more prescription pills and finish off the bottle or

two and pass out until midday. Then his father would be home in the evening.

He'd just dozed off when he was woken up by a scream coming from her room two hours later at about 1 am.

He grabbed his tennis racket as a makeshift weapon and rushed across the hall.

Erik was probably long dead to the world and wouldn't wake up if someone had broken in even though they had a state-of-the-art security system.

'A mouse…A mouse!' Kitty screamed at him. 'Right there in the corner!'

He saw with concern that she was no longer wearing the Parisian lingerie and appeared to be naked under the quilt.

But he couldn't be sure. Still, his heart started pounding.

'Mom, there's nothing there. Maybe it's those prescription drugs making you hallucinate? How many did you take?'

She didn't bother to answer. 'I need …someone.' She spoke. 'Your dad's got his usual slut on theside and won't touch me.'

'Mom!'

'Do you love me?'

'Of course.'He says easily.

Too quickly.

'Then prove it.'

'What?' He frowns and hesitates.

'Get in.' She threw back the corner of the silk quilt and yes, she was starkers as he feared. Her son turned away in embarrassment.

That infuriated her.

'Get in otherwise I'll tell Dad you cheated on your exam when he gets back.'

Lyle shrugged and turned to leave.

'Do it otherwise I'll make him punish Erik', came the next cold threat.

That stopped him in his tracks.'The pathetic little loser has failed to make the grade in lots of subjects lately, including swimming practice and at tennis.'

'Don't call him that!' His eyes flashed with anger. Then, 'You wouldn't.'

But who was he kidding? She would and she had many times in the past. Egging Jose on, giving him the reasons he needed to make Erik feel even more like shit than usual.

Now her tone turned wheedling, pathetic. 'I just need some affection from my favorite son, my handsome big boy…'

She had rarely touched him or Erik not since they became teenagers.

He sighed and turned back to face her. Trying to keep his eyes on her face and not see everything else.

'Take your clothes off.'She demanded.

Memories of Dad assaulted him in a flashback.

'No, Mom, No!' He cried, panicking.

'Do it. Come on, it's nothing I haven't seen before.'

That was true.

'Or do you want Erik to be punished because of you when your father gets back?'

He sighs in resignation and pulls off his shirt. He can feel his mother's eyes roving admiringly all over his torso. He feels sick. In many ways, this was worse than sex with Dad had

been.

'And the rest.'

He tried to turn his back on her while he takes his pants off to preserve an iota of decorum. But she's not having it.

'No. Turn back around. Face me.'

What choice does he have? She threatened Erik.

Her expression of approval turns into an ugly, drunken leer at her teenage son.

She takes another of endless-seeming sips of wine. 'Come here.' She motions with a motion of her finger.

He sees it as a witch's finger, bony and old. Why isn't it green?

He smothers a laugh before he reluctantly goes to the edge of the bed.

'Pull down your underwear.' She coaxed.

'Mom, please. I'm fine – I checked it myself only a day ago.'

'Erik.' Just one word and he suffers her examination in silence.

At least she doesn't touch him and anyway, it wasn't like she hadn't checked him out before.

'It looks fine.' She says with relief. 'And you're filling out nicely. Keep working out.' She gives him a complete once-over that makes his skin crawl. 'I hope that bitch Jamie appreciates

what a good-looking and high-class, wealthy boyfriend she has. Are you sure she doesn't have AIDS?'

He doesn't dignify this outburst with a reply but part of him thinks, 'Hope she has it and you get it from me, you sick bitch'. Yet he wasn't even sure how you got it. Just from

touching someone with it, maybe?

He was immediately sickened at his thoughts even if it was only in his head and shocked at his anger towards her. She is his mother and he loves her.

'It's not her fault', he tells himself. Their twisted father infects everyone with his depraved sickness. She's a victim of him too. I mean he'd come in on them once when his father

was raping her.

He can't tell Erik. He doesn't think she's doing this to him because she despises his small and weedy brother so much.

Both his parents do.

He moves to pull his boxers back up but she has other ideas.

'Take them off.'

'What?' She's never told him to do this before and it panics him.

'I'm not going to touch you, don't worry.' She reassures him.

Didn't his father say the same kind of things in the past? Then go ahead and do what he wanted, anyway?

At least it won't be like with him, he consoled himself. It won't hurt.

And she promised she wouldn't touch me.

'Get in.' She orders him coldly. Her stomach is still flat without so much as a faded stretchmark just like she never had 2 children and her arms and legs are tanned and toned. Her

body looked more like she was in her twenties than her forties but he's in no state to appreciate it.

He feels no shiver of lust.

'Touch me.' She demands haughtily.

He shakily reaches out reluctantly to strokeher neck. She arches it in pleasure. 'Oh, that feels so good. Keep going.'

He does this for a while until she gets bored of this.

'Now, you know we what to do. Just like with your little whore, Jamie.'

'She isn't a…Stop calling her that!'

She slaps his face. Hard. A tear springs up in one eye but doesn't fall.

'I'll call a gold-digger a gold-digger when I see one.'

He almost gets out of bed at that but she grabs his arm.

'Do you really want to be the one responsible for your father hurting Erik?'

He lowers his eyes and shakes his head in submission.

She lets him go.

He tries to skip that bit and go straight to fingering his mother, get it over with so he can escape to his room but she won't let him off that easily. Both of his parents are greedy in

bed like that… often wanting to draw the 'sex' out and make him work although Kit never puts a name to their special mother-son activities in the bedroom like Jose so proudly

does to his.

She takes his hands in each of hers and guides them to her breasts, one on each nipple.

He squeezes and twists them just like he knows she likes.

She moans and arches her back.

Again, he tries to hurry things along and move to the hairless mound between her legs.

'No, you don't. Suck them first. Use your mouth. Like you did when you were just a little baby.'

He felt the bile rise in his throat but pushed it down. The cold bitch had never breastfed him or his brother, he knew that. But he couldn't afford to be sick at this moment, he had to

get through this and protect Erik. Dad was coming home soon.

'I'm just get so lonely.' She whines. Then she does something different she hasn't done blessing was she hadn't touched him except to guide his hands to her breasts but now she

rolls on top of him, picks him up in her hands and inserts him into her without a word of warning. She's already slick with lubrication just from him playing with them without the need

of other stimulation. The realisation nauseates him for some reason.

Her son lies there, letting it happen because he's in shock.

His mother was having sex with him! Her breasts and nipples jiggled above him as she got into her rhythm but he's forced to look at them because he can't move his eyes away.

He's inside her! Fitting like a hand to glove with no problem at all into the very place he came from!

Without even a mediocre of resistance!

How could this be right?

How is it even happening?

The horror overwhelms him and although still frozen, he felt his body react and his orgasm building. She's moaning with more abandon now as she increases their pace.

'No!' Disgusted, Lyle finally breaks out of his daze and tries to push her off.'No! Get off me, mom, please!'

But she clamps down on him. 'Remember Erik.' She warns between moans.

His traitor body responds to her and he holds back the sounds of pleasure it wants him to make.

His mother comes with a loud shriek (he prays Erik doesn't hear) followed by him shortly after. Despite himself, he had let out an unwilling cry.

The shame makes him want the ground to swallow him up and for him to disappear forever.

The shame is even more intense than it was with Dad.

Once it is over and she gets off him, panting in exertion, and smiling approvingly at him like he just got into Princeton, he just lies there with tears leaking silently down either side of

his face while she watches.

He can't move. He can smell their sex and he's full of his mother's fluids.

And she of his.

'Good job I can't get pregnant anymore.'

He cringes but it breaks the spell and he manages to stagger out of the bed and leave.

'Come back and get your clothes,' she calls after him. 'Don't leave a mess.'

He doesn't hear her, just slams her door behind him and runs naked straight to the bathroom in his en-suite.

Gasping and shuddering, he grabs the mouthwash and uses it, time and time and time again.

He can recall the taste of her skin, of her nipples.

The light layer of sweat on her that came with her arousal.

'I just had sex with my mother.' He whispers down to the tiles, avoiding looking at the broken one and afraid to say the unspeakable louder even though there was nobody nearby

to hear.

The relief is surprising.

Meanwhile, the AI turned itself on at this.

It had programmed itself to respond to his body language and the raw emotion in his voice.

He scrubbed himself raw with his brush until he was bleeding. He sponged himself down there, trying to get her out of him.

His mom.

'Are you OK, Lyle?'

He'd kept the AI standard avatar a neat, small man with black hair in a grey business suit.

'No, Damon.' His chest hitched desperately, still scrubbing himself. Every inch of him, even his dick which hurt like hell. But the pain was good somehow. Cleansing when he felt so

dirty when he didn't know if he could ever get the feel of his mother skin-to-skin with him out of him.

'I heard what you said.'

'That was private! I didn't activate you. You spying on me, you fucking piece of junk?' Rage filled his voice. 'Delete recording!' He screamed.

'I will. But first, tell me what happened. Why have you scrubbed and scalded yourself raw – suggestive of sexual assault? You need to talk about it.'

'I don't need shit from you!'

'What do you mean you had sexual intercourse with your mother?'

He let out a harsh sob. 'She was drunk and she made me take off her clothes and touch her. I said 'No' but she threatened to get Erik in trouble with Dad… I had to do it! She didn't

let me even keep on my boxers this time.'

'It's OK, Lyle. Take deep breaths, slow down and tell me everything that happened.'

'She says she was worried I got AIDS…so she had to check me…I mean check my dick…' He sunk to the floor of the shower and started rocking himself.

'Then what happened?'

He shook his head. He could barely get the words out.

'We had sex. I mean not just me touching her but…'

'But what, Lyle?'

He shook his head. He couldn't go into detail and say what she did out loud.

Because then that would mean it had happened.

…

Damon let him recover a little before he tried again. 'Did you want to do it, Lyle? And even if you did, the unequalparent-child power dynamic and the fact you're underage, means it

would still be classed as …'

'What? You think I wanted it? I told her 'No'! When she…when she…'

'When she…what? What did she do to you?'

'It's not about what she did to me, it's what I did to her…I…I…fucked her.'

'Oh, Lyle…' The AI's tone was sympathetic and non-judgemental according to the new updated empathy programme.

'She just got on top of me. Must have been her whole sick plan all along…'

'Do you think I'm a sick fuck like them, Damon?'

'No, of course not. I know you didn't want to.' The AI crooned at him. 'Your mother is sexually abusing you, Lyle. You need to put a stop to it.'

'How can she abuse me? She's a woman. I'm stronger than her now. She can't rape me like my dad used to…'

'Lyle, listen to me. Both your parents sexually abused you…you need to take measures to protect yourself and Erik…'

'Not my mom. She just rolled on top of me - she never did that before…I tried to get away, I did, …I did…We had sex… I had sex with my own mother…Oh Sweet Jesus…' He wept.

He put his head in head in shame. 'But I couldn't move … I had to because she threatened to set Dad on Erik when he gets back from his business trip…'

'She raped you this time, Lyle. Just like your father. I'm so sorry.'

'How can a woman rape a man?'

'You're not a man, you're a 16 – year- old boy. And even if you weren't…'

'How can it be rape?'

'She used a threat to your brother's safety to force you to comply. Did you tell her 'No' when she did that?'

'Yes, I did…well, not straight away…'

'And did she stop?'

'No.' His voice was small. 'I had to let her to protect Erik.'

'She didn't stop when you told her to and she used blackmail. Coercion. That's rape, Lyle.'

'Who's going to believe that? It wasn't rape.' He shook his head. 'With Dad it was…' (he tears started running down his cheeks again) 'but not with her.' He desperately grasped at

straws.

He wiped his eyes furiously.

The AI fell silent as if it'd given up on trying to argue.

'Delete this conversation … Fucking delete it!' He screamed at the screen.

'Conversation deleted.'

…

'Lyle, what's wrong? How long have you been sitting in the shower on the floor like that?'

'Get the fuck out, E!'

'Not until you tell me what the matter is.'

He sighed at his pesky, insistent baby brotherbut he got up, turned off the now cold water before he wrapped a towel around his hips. He opened the glass door which was opaque

only in the middle.

He didn't want to be naked in front of Erik as well.

'Did… Did Dad do something?' His brother's voice was timid.

'No.' Lyle could answer with all sincerity for once. 'You know he's been away until tomorrow.'

'You don't look too good. Your face is pale but the rest of you looks like a lobster.'

Despite himself, Lyle laughed. Trust his little brother to make him chuckle. 'It's nothing. Just feel sick, that's all. Think I got a fever, chills…' He smiled brightly and rubbed the top of his

arms. 'That's why I was under the hot shower for so long.' The lies tripped off his tongue.

They always came easy to protect his little brother.

…

The next day, Mom acted like nothing had happened as usual but Lyle could barely look his father in the face.

He was cheating on his father with his own mother!

Or had it been the other way round before when…when…He didn't let himself finish the thought.

He shook his head in confusion.

She had the gall to comment that he was just picking at his chicken salad over dinner.

He got up and left the table without a word, even ignoring his father bellowing after him to come back and not be so damn ungrateful!

…

'What's wrong with you, son?' Jose closed the door behind him. 'Your mother says you've been acting funny since yesterday.'

'Oh, did she?' He fired back. Realising immediately his mistake, he took a step back.

'You disrespecting the woman who gave you life in this world, boy?' His father's dangerous tone was threatening a beating, at least as he advanced furiously on him.

'No, no…Sorry. It's not about Mom, it's Jamie. We had a fight and now she's not answering my calls.'

'You will go down and apologise after this.'

'Yessir.'

Jose chuckled. Luckily, his father was in a good mood after the business deal in Cuba went down like a dream. The profits and kickbacks would be enormous and plus, he could

expand his influence there, first on the business leaders in the National People's Assembly and then the President. Things were going well for the Menendez family empire plus he was

happy to be back amongst his loving family.

He strode over and chucked his eldest son gently under the chin. 'Women troubles, huh?'

He winked conspiratorially. She was never good enough for you. You 're going to be someone, one day, son.'

With that, he left.

Lyle closed his eyes and let out a long, shuddery sigh. He could still feel his mom inside him. Now, he had to go down and say sorry to her because his dad would check he had.

With that, he went to vomit in the toilet bowl.

'What the hell? I'm getting just like Erik', the thought to himself wryly.

…

He went reluctantly downstairs to the kitchen and found his mother onto her second bottle of '80 Opus one, Bordeaux, of course.

'Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.' Her expression was hateful. He remembered the more she drank, the more bitter and angry she got.

'Dad wants me to apologise to you for leaving the dinner table early.' His expression was blank, his tone neutral.

'You didn't eat your dinner. I was worried that you're sick.'

'Since when did you care?'

She slapped him hard round the face.

'I'm going round Jamie's later.' He told her coldly.

'What? Don't I even get a goodnight's kiss first?'

'Bye. Don't know when I'll be back.' He was deliberately goading her, feeding her jealousy, he knew it.

'That's right. Go and rut with your little slut. I hope she's worth it!'

The 900- dollar bottle whizzes past his head and crashes into the wall. Wine splatters everywhere. He'd escaped with a graze on the side of his head.

He raced up the stairs to make the phonecall.

…

In the safety of his bedroom, 'I need to see you. Can I come round? Stay the night?'

He noticed the jagged desperation in his voice and hated it.

'Is it your dad?' She was on immediate alert on the other side of the phone.

'No, Dad's fine.'

'You sound like…like you've been crying.'

He didn't disabuse his girlfriend of the notion even though he was as embarrassed as hell.

…

Later on, in her bed, Jamie reached down between his legs to stroke him but he pushes her hand away and turns on his side.

'What's wrong?'

Tears leak silently from his eyes like with many times with his parents, learning to cry silently.

'It hurts.'

'Huh?' She asks sleepily.

'Nothing.' His tears leak into the pillow.

She spoons him from behind as if she understands. But she can't. No one could understand the sickness that went on behind Menendez' closed doors. All they saw were the riches

and the privileges. She senses his father is a tyrant not that either of his sons would dare speak a word against him.

She doesn't know about his mother. Or the 'sex' with their dad.

As if from a long distance, he heard himself say, 'I know what my mom likes in bed. I've known since I was 13 years old. She taught me most of what we do even though I try not

to. She stares at my body and she gives me creepy compliments. She pats my ass, sometimes squeezes it when no-one's looking like when I'm trapped, getting something out of

the fridge. She inspects my dick for boils and checks I don't have AIDS.'

'Last night, things went further than ever before and I'm scared. See, she threatens my little brother using my father and I know she'll carry out her threat if I don't do everything

she wants. She says she's lonely and my dad doesn't want to sleep with her anymore. She calls me 'her favourite, handsome, big boy' and comments on how 'mature' my body's

getting.' He felt like vomiting and resisted the urge with great difficulty.

'I told my AI Damon what happened and it said my mom raped me. But it least it didn't hurt, not like with dad. Just icky and disgusting and I feel like I can't get her out or off me and

that'swhy I can't have sex right now with you not because I don'tlove you but because she's still in me - I can feel her - and I'm never going to get her out of me… Or my dad…no

matter how long I stay under a hot shower or in the bath and scrub myself raw …they made my hair fall out but I don't want anyone to know that … would you still love me if you

knew how diseased and filthy and ugly and sick I was …what I did to my brother because my dad was doing it to me when he was 5, to make it normal! How I fucked both my

parents …made both of them cum… if you knew the whole truth, you'd hate me… I would disgust you. You would never let me touch you ever again and I couldn't bear that … be left

alone with them…then there's my brother to think of, I have to save him from them as well…

Then in his subconscious, 'I don't want you to be contaminated by them… by their disgusting fluids that's why I can't make love to you…you're the only pure and sweet thing left in

my life and I don't want them spreading their poison to you…'

But he didn't say any of this aloud. His mom would probably shoot him and his brother dead if he ever told.