Not Just An Idol Threat Pt 3

Power.

Everyone wants it. From the ruthless business mogul all the way down to the suburban housewife. Oh, they might not call it that, but that was what it was. The Power to see, to do, to have... to know. Didn't matter what you wanted or had convinced yourself that you needed; it all came down to Power - who had it, how they used it. Regardless of your station in life, Power makes everything easier. The Power to close the mega deal, was as important to the 28-year-old cocaine fueled businessman - as it was to the frazzled 50-year-old mother of 3. The issue with power was that it was way more addictive than the purest China White and anyone who has ever carried that monkey around knows that no matter how innocently it starts, that little pet spider monkey on your back known as Heroin can turn into a 400 lb. gorilla damn near overnight. Swap out Heroin for the Power to do whatever you want, with whoever you want? And that gorilla ends up being the size of King Kong. So, as Suzy homemaker slides the vibrator out of her bedside drawer instead of getting up and waking up the kiddos for another fun filled day of public education, she reflects on what she wouldn't do with a little more time. Day, after day, after day... until she would literally mortgage her soul for the power to do what she wanted.

I was lying in bed staring at the ceiling wrestling with my own monkey, trying to determine exactly when I had decided to stop dabbling with Power and to start free basing it instead. Guilt, regret, shame. The memory of my mother riding my cock like a woman possessed, her warmth, the aroma of her soaking wet pussy, the sounds she made, were all crystal clear. Unlike my sister, with whom I could say it was more of a subconscious desire, voiced when I didn't know the rules. My mother was a different story. I was pretty sure that it was my conscious influence that caused her to react the way she did last night and from the moment she appeared in my doorway wild and wet with want, I knew exactly what I was doing. All my self-questioning, all my reluctance, all my concerns about the morality of my actions had dissipated like smoke. I wanted her and knew I had the power to make her want me. So, I did it. At the time it seemed right. Hell, I seemed to recall telling myself I deserved it, and as she slid her pussy... that same pussy that had brought me into this world, as she slid her pussy onto my cock, I felt... free. Like I was granted parole and I just needed to wait a little longer. I just had to follow the necessary steps to become... free? More? Something else?

Something greater. The thought came unbidden to my brain. Yes, the Power to be something greater.

Reaching out with my thoughts was easy. My sister was still dead to the world sleeping the deep untroubled sleep of the truly contented. My father was getting dressed quietly, in preparation for playing golf. My mother... she was curled on her side pretending to sleep. A whole gamut of emotions was pulsating from her. Guilt was by far the most prevalent. But sadness was there as well as disbelief, humiliation and... shame. Shame not only for what she had done but for wanting to do it again. I could feel her tears start to flow as my father left the room.

I waited until I heard my father leave. Staring at the ceiling and thinking about Power, wondering what had possessed me to do what I did and listening to my mother's thoughts as her emotions pulsated like a raw festering wound. I got up and headed to her room. The solution was easy when you thought about it. All I had to do was remove her guilt. Simple. As I approached her room I listened closely to her thoughts. She was still in bed but no longer pretending to be asleep, staring at the ceiling pretty much as I had been doing.

What the fuck is wrong with me she thought. How could I do that to my own son. My own son! What kind of mother am I? I'm sure Scott hates me. I probably fucked him up for life. God how terrible am I? What the fuck? Interspersed between her thoughts was a replay of last night. Her riding my cock. Her orgasming harder than she had ever done so in her life. How I felt inside of her. How wet she was. Then right back to her thoughts on how bad of a mother she was. How fucked up of a person. Am I so fucked up that I would fuck my own son? Fuck. Why do I want to do it again?

I knocked lightly on the door and felt her panic. I needed to do something and quick. "Mom?" I entered into her room, quietly shutting the door behind me.

"Scott." I felt her sadness spike. "Scott honey. I'm so, so sorry... oh god, can you... uh...ever forgive me?" She sat up holding the sheet around herself. Even exhausted after a night of no sleep and wild sex, she was beautiful.

"Forgive you? For what?" I sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her. "Mom... last night was... amazing, really amazing. Hot. I-I enjoyed it. A lot. Didn't you?" It would be so easy to give her a little push and take away her guilt, but some perverse part of me was dragging it out.

"That's not the point Scott. I'm your mother, what we did... what I did, was wrong. So very wrong. I mean... me showing up in your room like that? I have no idea what came over me. I only know that I'm a terrible person. A terrible mom. I probably scarred you for life!"

"No, you're not. Not even in the slightest. Look mom... I... It was so... sexually exciting. So hot. I'm 18... I knew what I was doing, and I liked it. I don't hate you or regret anything or feel taken advantage of. I wanted it as much as you did. Honestly, I can't stop thinking about it. Can you?" I gave her a little push. Be honest.

"No..." It was said quietly, regretfully. "I just... I never in a million years would have imagined doing something like that. I-I still don't know what possessed me to go to your room, but I'm sorry. So truly sorry." I could sense she was feeling a little better. Still ashamed. Still sad, but willing to believe she hadn't fucked me up for life. She was also feeling regret that she would never know another orgasm as powerful as the one she had felt last night. She pushed the thought down.

All my self-flagellation earlier was gone, and the feeling of power was back. It was like an entity had taken over. A tidal wave of emotional acceptance. I could hear myself, could see what I was doing, but another part of me said that my earlier feelings of guilt were stupid. That I was being a pussy. I felt like a passenger in my own body, I knew what was happening, I saw what was happening, but I was powerless to stop it. A small part of me wondered if this was what my sister felt when I 'pushed' her. The other entity? The driver. Dispelled my reservations, dismissed them. Relax... sit back kid and enjoy the ride it seemed to say. Mom was fine, hell she was turned on right now. She wanted my cock. She enjoyed it. For some perverse reason I gave her a little push. You enjoyed it. Sure, your feel guilty, ashamed even, but you want to do it again. It excites you thinking about my cock. Your son's cock. The fact you're my mom makes your pussy soaking wet. Our relationship, while unorthodox was completely normal. Sure, we would hide it, but you wanted it... wanted to revel in the fact that you were fucking your own son. The tension left my mother's face, her eyes softened, and she even smiled at me.

She reached out and touched my face, dropping the sheet. Her nipples were hard as diamonds, and I could smell her arousal. "My handsome boy. You... you really like it? Liked me? You don't think I'm old or I don't know gross for enjoying it so much? Your own mom?"

"Are you kidding mom? I loved it. Too old? Are you kidding, you look like a supermodel. Your body...?" I tugged the sheet down even further and looked at her shaven pussy, she must wax it, it looked so smooth. "Gorgeous... such a pretty pussy."

She blushed and leaned back. "You can look as much as you want. Your father barely looks at me or even touches me for that matter. I guess that's why last night... I mean..." She blushed even harder.

As I moved my hand between her legs, I felt her open up for me. She was dripping wet and so slick my fingers easily slid inside her. For some reason my doubts and regrets from earlier were completely gone. I couldn't even remember what the big deal was anyway.

She looked at the door, making sure it was closed. "Your father is golfing and will be gone for a long time. Your sister? Is Sarah... is she still asleep?"

"Don't worry about Sarah mom." I stood up and removed my shorts. Her eyes went immediately to my hard cock.

"God, you're so big!"

I placed my hand on the back of her head and guided her mouth to my cock. "Mmm... that's it, mom. Suck it."

She moaned as she engulfed the head of my prick.

As sexually active as I had been lately, with Emily as well as Sarah, it still felt amazing. Not even watching my sexy sister suck my cock affected me quite the way as watching my mother bob her head on my dick. She was a pro that was certain. She moaned, and licked and sucked like it was her last meal. My earlier push from last night was obviously still there because she had no problem talking dirty to me or perhaps that was just her?

"Mmm that's it baby... You like having mommy suck this big dick?" She took me really deep gagging herself. "Mmm... fuck you're so big. Fuck I have been thinking about this since I ran into you in the hallway. Did you think about me? Huh? Did you stroke your huge cock thinking about your mother's pussy?"

As much as I enjoyed having my mother suck my dick, I wanted to fuck her again, I pulled out and guided her onto her hand and knees. As I slid into her from behind, she pushed her face into the pillow and... came. It was immediate and powerful, sharp in its intensity.

"Oh fuck!" It was a muffled exclamation from her. I began to fuck her fast and deep, imagining that she was wearing that garter belt and stocking set from the other day. She was talking dirty to me into her pillow. "Fuck you mother... fuck her naughty pussy. Fuck it. God my own son..."

"Mom?"

"Yes..." A breathless moan.

"I want you to wear that outfit you were wearing the other day for me, ok? You know what I'm talking about?"

"Uh... the... oh fuck... the uh business suit and skirt? Or uh... do you mean what I was wearing under it? Oh god... oh shit..." She covered her mouth with her hand.

"Yes, the garter belt... from now I want you to wear that whenever you can, ok? My cock was quickly getting coated with a white cream, as I fucked her it covered my shaft and coated her pussy lips.

"Oh... oh god... yes baby. Of course... anything... oh shit... I'm going to cum again. Oh fuck!" She came even harder than before. "Fuck me baby. Fuck your naughty mother. God I'm such a bad girl. Such a naughty mommy. Please! Please fuck my pussy baby!"

The dirty talk was too much for me. I felt myself rising quickly. My orgasm hit me from out of nowhere and I shot what felt like a gallon of cum into her pussy. "Fuck Mom! Fuck!"

"Oh god baby. Fill me up!"

The passage was dim and uneven. Torches flickered causing shadows to dance along the walls to the percussive beating of the opening drum rift of Van Halen's Everybody Wants Some. The whole jungle theme conforming perfectly with David's nonsensical Tarzan impersonation. I entered the chamber not at all surprised on what I found. Sarah was in the first position, chained to the wall a look of ecstatic supplication on her face. Emily was in the second spot happily content, almost proud of it. The third location was occupied by my mother. Shame, embarrassment and humiliation warred with the excitement on her face. The final spot was still empty - looking at it I felt an overwhelming need to fill it. Find someone, anyone and make them my slave. Wait... did I say slave? Why did I use that word? The place was brighter more distinct. I looked around doing a complete 360 but nobody else was there. Huh... I did another circle, and he was there, at least I think it was him. The wild unkempt Neanderthal from earlier was gone. In his place was a tall, moderately handsome, brown skinned man. His physique was fairly close to my own. Well-built arms, narrow waist, a lightly defined 6 pack, white teeth. He approached me in a friendly fashion.

His smile set my teeth on edge.

"Scott! Ah you look well." A beefy hand grabbed my biceps. "Strong. Good! Very good!" He waved a hand at the ladies. "You have chosen well. A man of distinguished tastes." He went and stood in front of my mother almost as if he knew her or was remembering something about her. He chuckled then looked back at me. "You have more questions? I am stronger now, less constrained. I will do my best to answer them."

"I need to know what's going on. Everything. Why me? Why my sister? How can I do the things I can?" I stood poised to rush forward, whether to shake answers out of the guy or beg for them I wasn't sure. Either way I wasn't really expecting any answers.

"Of course! Come with me." He led me back the way I had come. Down the passageway and out onto a wide ledge looking out above a green expanse of trees. Every time I had come this way; I had always started in the strange passage which never showed an opening behind me. Now I could see that the original Island of Peka Kualu was actually a peninsula. Looking west towards where Keya Ketu had been, I saw only jungle. On the north side was a wide bay with little Kano's scattered about either resting on the beach or actually streaming across the water. On the south side were, rocks and crags sticking up from the ocean. Below me were clearings filled with huts made of bamboo and other buildings, more official looking, that were made out pumice or lava rock. He waved his hand below us. "Peka Kualu."

We wandered down to the village. The men were all well-built and handsome for the most part. The women were something else altogether, beautiful and exotic... slightly Asian features, exquisite bodies. All of them wore only loin cloths. Men and Women alike walked around bare chested. The people seemed happy and well fed. As we walked through the village, he gave me their history and it unfolded before my very eyes. We passed as ghosts among the living, but here in that place they were the ghosts, and we were the living. His name was Eka Duwai, I seemed to recall him telling me that at one time or another and he was the village priest or shaman. From a strictly religious point of view, he was the most important member of the tribe, but not the leader. The position of leadership was held by a council of elders. His people had lived on the shores of that peninsula for a thousand years and were content and happy. As Shaman and Acolyte of Dak-go-Dow he had power and warned his people of a threat from deep within the mainland. But his people were lax, well fed and prosperous and they heeded not his warnings. Accordingly, Dak-go-Dow warned him that his people would not listen to him, so the fire god taught him the Tu Bak and bid him prepare. We headed back up to the ledge and standing on the precipice, he finished the story.

Eka Duwai went into the village and was able to convince the brightest, best individuals; those representing the best tributes of his people, that doom was coming and that in order to save his people they had to listen to him. He performed the Tu Bak and those people he selected all went into a dream stasis and were sealed in the caverns leading off the main passageway. I watched the ritual unfold before my eyes. The men and women willingly entering the caverns and then falling asleep as they stood before being sealed up. As it was progressing, I could hear noises, screams and clamoring from outside. Invaders were pouring across from the mainland slaughtering man, woman and child alike. The invaders looked like the people who had welcomed me and my family not that long ago. Himself and four of the most beautiful women retreated back to the sacred temple. Their task was to perform another ritual that would see them sealed separately. There they would sleep for a set length of time. Then, almost like setting an alarm clock, they would awake after a period of years so they could perform the Klat Tu Bak in order to let their people live again. Unsurprisingly part of the ritual involved them having sex. The first three women went into the dream without incident however the last was killed as invaders poured into the cavern. Modifying the ritual at the last moment Eka Duwai sealed himself into a small statue and in a dream like state could only wait. And wait he did, until some 18-year-old kid unknowingly found the idol a 1000 years later. Angry at the invaders and upset that his plan had been ruined Dak-go-Dow destroyed the invaders in a fiery eruption, which of course only caused to delay the finding of the idol. Had the fire god not lost his temper, I could only imagine that Eka Duwai's people would have been released long ago.

The past faded and we stood inside the cavern again before the alter of the fire god. "And that has led you to us. You are the new instrument of Dak-go-Dow, Scott." He looked at me closely to gauge my reaction to his little prehistory time walk trick. "Only you can help my people live again." He stood silent arms folded as if he had explained everything.

"But my power? The ability to make people do anything I want. Most of it sexual? My sister?"

"It's part of the ritual. The moment you picked up the idol and had sexual desire for this one..." He stood in front of Sarah. "The ritual began to unfold. You invoked a desire to have sex with her causing her to be snared within the confines of the ritual. This comes directly from the fire god - it is his will. It may be that he influenced your desire. Maybe it's too much for a mere mortal but it was the will of the god. As to your sexual proclivity? Dak-go-Dow is also the god of procreation, and it may be that your mortal body cannot contain his... appetite. Many of his ceremonies and rituals ends with sexual celebration of the spirit."

That explained some of it, but not my lack of control. Or did it? Why did I feel and act the way I had with my mother? Was it just the alien awareness of some ancient god working through me to free his people? Or was it that I liked it? I liked the power.

"How do I... Uh... how do I control it?" I asked. I had been going to say how do I get rid of it, but I wasn't sure if I was ready to relinquish that kind of power. "My Mother? And my sister and Emily? How do they get free? I don't like seeing them chained."

"Control comes with time and exercise of will. To free them complete the ritual. They are chained there to your will, not mine or the fire god's. It's your embodiment of their obedience, that you see here. It's simple Scott you wish to be free, yes? You wish for them to be able to choose?" His voice lowered. "But you still want the power, yes? Complete the ritual. Bind the last and once she is fully seated as Seka Vadow then I can release my people and you as well. Once both rituals are complete, the Tu Bak will dissipate like smoke."

Every other time I had left that fucked up dream it was because the dude hit me, this time I simply woke up. It was noon and my phone was buzzing next to me. Bleary eyed I got up to go pee, looking at my texts as I wandered an empty house. 6 Missed ones, I had 4 from Emily and 2 from my sister. I checked my sister's texts first. Basically, they were about what I expected. She was thinking about me, got tired of waiting on me and couldn't wake me up, so she was heading out and would catch me later. Emily was a little different. She had a great time last night was thinking about me and was wondering if I wanted to come over and watch a movie that night. I responded in the affirmative and not immediately hearing back from her, I went in search of the only other thing that could compete with a teenage guys' sexual focus.