Let's seeeee, the MC is an adoptive human and the mother an adoptive Minotaur mother. That's about as far as forewarnings go, I guess.
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Why oh why did he have to go and admit that?
It wasn't like he could afford to not tell his mother about his absence if his counselor's threat was anything to go by, but he could have broken the news in a less seemingly flippant manner. It was one thing to not care about something, it was quite another to lead with that fact.
Honestly, it wasn't like he particularly wanted to tart the truth up, but he also didn't want to come off as aggressively apathetic.
"What did you say?" Yasmine fixed him with a glare as she put his plate of food on the table. Even just the sight and smell of it made his stomach growl. Of course, the big sexy angry mother cow holding it put his hunger pangs into the back row of his priorities.
"I missed school yesterday," Michael sighed as he reached for his bag and pulled the form that he had been given out, "They told me that I should have you sign this."
His cow mother all but snatched the sheet out of his hand and read it. Soon enough she was rubbing her small cute snout as she laid it down.
"Why?" was all she asked as she reached for the cupboard and pulled out a pen.
Michael opened his mouth but then promptly closed it shut.
What could he even say?
The truth was straight out; he wasn't willing to get his mom in trouble when his aunt was pushing for it and he wasn't willing to do it now that his mom was angry with him.
Or ever for that matter.
But he didn't have a good excuse planned. Which, in retrospect, he really should have. But missing school really just had not seemed that...big of an issue. And it hadn't since he changed.
"Well?" his mother asked, her hoof starting to tap the floor with an impatient beat. They were so beautifully manicured too, with smooth cuts that perfectly rounded her-
-but no, he was trying to distract himself.
He had nothing. No excuse, no reason for having missed school, as unimportant as that was. He had squat.
So what else could he do, except stay silent?
His mother's frown deepened as he stared her back, his mouth not moving one inch.
Yasmine locked eyes with him for a few seconds before sighing and motioning him to the table.
"We are going to have a mother-to-son talk," she casually said as she took a seat herself. Michael joined her soon after.
"So," she began as she steepled her hands before him, "You are missing school."
"Yes," Michael nodded at that.
"Since when has this gone on?" Yasmine asked.
"Yesterday was the first time," Michael replied and his mother gave his signed sheet a glance to confirm that.
"But you are not going to tell me why..." Yasmine replied.
Michael shook his head, "I can't."
"Why?" his mother was quick to latch on.
He saw the stubborn set of her brow. The determined look in her eyes.
The way she was trying to bore a hole into his mind.
She was willing to wait there with him for as long as she needed to.
But Michael-he was getting lost in those eyes. In the orbs of someone that he loved and desired so much.
And that's what that increasingly familiar feeling went out of him.
Something left him, making him feel a bit drowsy, and entered into his mother. Something that couldn't be seen or heard.
Only felt.
Immediately his mother's eyes glazed over, her posture slacked, and her intensity dissipated.
"Sorry, Mom," Michael whispered. He had not meant to do that.
Michael put his hands in his head and very messily rubbed his scalp through his head as he groaned in frustration.
He wanted to take his mother seriously, and not avoid their problems by using this power of his. He didn't want to run away from her.
But at the moment where she was most angry with him, when her emotions were the most intense and her worry and care for him shined through, he couldn't help but try and reach out to her.
The memory of her lips on his, as brief as their peck was, was still engraved in his mind. And he was hungry for so much more...
He wouldn't run away from this fight, Michael decided. He would take his lumps like a man and pay whatever he had to pay for caring about his mom.
But first-
"Mom," Michael said, licking his lips as he stared at her, "I am going to kiss you."
They already did it once, so surely it shouldn't snap her out.
And, indeed, after a few moments, Yasmine gave the mild response of "Ok."
Michael got up from his seat, walked around the table, and stood right next to his mom.
Even when she was sat, Yasmine was about as tall as Michael was when he was standing up. That's how cow ladies were, and little facets of reality like that had always made his heart race.
Michael brushed the hair out of his mother's face, and slowly leaned in, his heart punching blood into his veins as his lips pressed against hers.
It wasn't a peck this time.
This...this was a full kiss.
Michael's eyes widened as his mother kissed back, her oral petals slowly dancing around his. And so Michael pressed on.
His hand reached for her hair, and entwined his fingers in it as the thrill of kissing the beautiful cow that was his mother made the whole world sharpen in contrast. The taste of her mouth, as mild as it was, was divine. The texture of her lips and snout, the tickling of air as they both broke to breath from time to time.
But the more he got, the hungrier he was.
He was about to put his tongue inside of her mouth, the desire to know what inside of her maw tasted like overcoming him, when all of a sudden he found himself pushed back.
His mother, eyes clear and very non-hypnotized, had pushed him at arm's length.
When did she come out of it? And why?
"Son..." she said with a warning tone.
Michael could only swallow. He had no idea how bad he had just made things, but he had fucked up.
"Don't think this means we are alright," Yasmine warned him, making Michael's heart pause.
What?
"I want you to think about what you did," she told him as if he had never affected her mind, "Because you are not leaving your room for the rest of the day."
The stupified expression on his face must have persisted for a bit too long because her face softened.
"You can take your plate of food with you," she allowed, pushing it towards him, "And you can bring it back to the kitchen, but I expect nothing more than that, got it?"
And what could Michael do except stupidly nod?
She had gone from confronting him to punishing him, so what exactly had she interpreted their kiss as?
"I know you are a good boy," Yasmine tenderly added as she reached out and caressed his cheek, "So please think about what you did."
Michael numbly took his plate of food to his room and ate it as he thought about things.
The first thing his mother had done was acknowledge the kiss, so it wasn't like she somehow didn't remember it. So why...
Did she think they had made up? That they had somehow talked about what he did, and the kiss was just her way of "showing him that everything was alright"?
It was a bit strange how responsive she had been to his kiss, being an active participant rather than simply being someone he made out with. So had she broken in the middle of their kiss, or did she begin breaking in the middle of their kiss and fully snapped when she pushed him away?
But no, no, there was something he was missing.
The kiss had been too passionate in retrospect. His mother just made it hard for him to control himself, of course, but that didn't change the facts.
However, despite being apparently a deal breaker, his mother had initially reacted to the kiss as if it weren't a big deal all the same.
The kiss had gone over the line, but she had still internalized it as part of their normal relationship.
...did that mean that the next time he tried kissing her that way, that she wouldn't snap out of it?
Had he, for lack of a better word, normalized it?
Did it not matter what he did to a person in a trance, so long as he did it while they were tranced?
His hands shook and a smile threatened to split his head in half as he contemplated things.
But no, no, his aunt had internalized the things they had done in a very bad way. To herself, that is. He couldn't push too far without driving people to insane conclusions.
But still, the possibilities...
The reasons why he did not care about school, and why he still couldn't bring himself to mind his absence that much, were many. But if he wasn't going to start naming the changes that had gone over him, there were, well, the girls.
Good lords, there had been a time when he had never guessed that he would have girl issues.
And yet, since changing, he'd found out that women noticed him when he was out. That his friend's mother might not regard intimacy with him as much of a problem and, lastly, there were the cops.
The taurs that were molesting him.
Or would sexual harassment be a better word?
Either way, their interest in him went beyond what was reasonable and he was pretty sure they were, essentially, "grooming" him. These things had all sorts of weird and bad connotations but, if Michael was going to be honest with himself, he didn't really care.
He LIKED Victoria and Cynthia. He liked their interest in him and the sensual, if predatory, promises that their touches brought. He even liked their pushy overly-confident personalities, but that might just be the fact that they were cops and the whole ensemble did things to him.
The only thing that ruined it all was that they were forcing him into it.
Michael frowned at his food as he ate it.
He could stop it, he supposed.
His powers, he could make them stop bothering him. He had not articulated a plan yet for it, but he was certain he could pressure them until they bent.
But...no. No, he didn't want Victoria and Cynthia to stop trying to, what, start something with him? Make him their boy toy? Their human slave?
It was quite the bold thing. Human beings had few rights in society. Not many, but they DID possess a few.
Long were the days were the only thing that stopped a man or a woman from simply snatching a human that they liked into their home was if another also wanted that human.
But if these taurs could condition him to fuck them whenever they wanted, it wouldn't matter if he, later on, went on to marry someone rich and powerful.
They would get him so used to it that when they called, he would come.
Or maybe they were going to offer to marry him themselves after he was too far deep with them? Michael shook his head.
It didn't matter.
He would lie if he said that he didn't want what they were offering.
He just hated how they were going about it.
So no, he would not stop them.
But he would make them change.
