Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
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Introduction - This is a true story. Whether you care to believe it or not, it did happen. I wish it had happened to me. But it didn't. It happened to a childhood friend of mine. The story, as he told it to me, took place after he had returned home from serving in the military and I had already moved to a different part of the country. The names have all been changed. Any locations mentioned have also been changed. I have taken some "literary license" with the story within some of the details, with his permission. But the relationship was real and lasted for many years. For those of you who would like to send some "feedback", please feel free. But don't waste your time or mine if you send it anonymously. If you haven't got the balls to identify yourself with your feedback, I haven't got the time to read it.
Thanks. I hope you enjoy.
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Brady sat there looking at his discharge papers and felt a mixture of emotions. He had been in the Marines for ten years. The last three in Recon. He'd seen more things in those few years than most people would see in their lifetime. On the one hand he was looking forward to going home, and yet there was that sense of loss. He was leaving behind a life that he had been made for. He excelled at everything he put his hand to in the Marines. The Corp had become his family. He had planned on making it a career until that IED that destroyed his Humvee put an end to those plans. His wound wasn't life changing, like some of his buddies had experienced. But it was bad enough to knock him out of the game.
He climbed out of the cab and pulled his duffle bag out with him. He stuck his hand inside the drivers window to shake the cabbies hand. The cabbie had waved his ride fee. "Thanks man!" Brady said.
"No! Thank you my friend! Good luck with your new life!"
Brady turned and looked at the house he'd left a little over 10 years before. It looked as though nothing had changed. As he walked up the driveway he wondered if anything had changed. His mother came walking out the front door with the biggest grin on her face he'd ever seen. Dena was a stunning woman, with raven black hair. She was a few pounds over weight. But she carried it well. She had lost a few pounds over the last few months knowing her boy was coming home. She ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Brady dropped his bag and hugged his mom as tight as he could without hurting her, crushing her massive chest against his.
Dena sighed as her son held her tightly. "I'm so glad to have you home."
"It's good to be home mom." He squeezed her a little harder enjoying the feel of her crushed tits against his chest. He had never thought of his mom as a sexual creature before. But he had always enjoyed her 38E chest, even if it was just a visual pleasure.
Dena pulled away and tried to set the tone for his homecoming. "I have a big welcome home party planned for Friday evening. Then I want to . . . ."
Brady cut her off before she could continue. He knew before he stepped out of the cab he was going to have to set the ground rules for living at home. "Stop mom!" Dena tried to continue. "MOM! STOP!" Dena hesitated. She wasn't used to being cut off. "I appreciate all you want to do. I really do. But I just want to take my time getting acclimated back into civilian life." He could see the disappointment on his mom's face, but he knew if he didn't set the tone now, it would only be harder the longer he delayed his standing up to her. He stroked his mom's face as he tried to assuage her disappointment. For the first time in his life, the thought crossed his mind that if this woman standing before him wasn't his mother, he'd probably kiss her. So he did the next best thing. He took her face in his two hands and pulled her to him, kissing her on her forehead. Then he looked her in the eyes and took control. "As I said. I appreciate all you want to do to make me feel at home again mom. But I just want to sleep for a few days and then ease back into my new life before I decide what I want to do with the rest of my life. Although I have a pretty good idea what I want to do."
"And what is that baby?" Dena asked with this uncontrollable urge to take charge again.
Brady laughed knowing exactly what she was trying to do. "Not now mom. Later."
"Is that my boy?!" Brady's dad yelled as he walked out the front door. John gave his son a big hug ignoring Dena as he did.
"Hey dad! It's good to see you! I didn't think you were home."
John shrugged it off as he normally did. "Your mother told me to stay inside. She wanted to be the first to greet you." He knew he'd get an earful later from her, but he didn't care. John had been a good father for his three boys. At least he'd tried to be. But the relationship between him and Dena from the very beginning had been anything but a traditional one. When they were first married Dena took the lead on most things in their marriage, and John was comfortable with that. But as all things change over time, their relationship slowly devolved into something a little more abusive and demeaning to John. The more Dena took control of things, the more she began to treat him in a demeaning manner. At some point in their marriage John began calling her "mother". None of the boys could remember when that started. In some weird way, John always reminded Brady of George McFly in the Back To The Future movie. Over the years John slowly abandoned all vestiges of manliness as Dena slowly emasculated him. But for some unforeseen reason the two remained married. Maybe each needed to play the part they found themselves in. Maybe they were just too scared to end it. Who knows what makes some people live in the situations they find themselves in. We're all different.
Brady never quite understood why his parents stayed married. Maybe it was just they became comfortable with their situation. He had no doubt that his mother must have had a number of lovers over the years. There had been a few men she was just a little too chummy with. But he couldn't prove anything. He always wondered if his dad had some ladies on the side as well. But if he had, it wasn't as likely as his mom having her studs servicing her. Either way, he loved his dad. That's not what he struggled with. Since his high school days, he had struggled with respect for his dad. He had watched his mom walk all over his dad. And his dad seemed to accept it as the natural order of things.
"Well I'm glad to be home and see you both." Brady said smiling at his dad, but turning to his mom with a smirk. "How about we go out for a steak dinner this evening? I haven't had a good steak since the last time I was home."
Dena spoke up. "But I thought we might . . ."
Brady waved his hand as though to brush her plans aside. "Steak this evening mother. I want us to go out for a good steak."
Brady couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his mother flustered. "Of course dear." Dena stammered.
He put his arm around his mom as they walked into the house. "It's good to be home mom." Then he whispered in her ear. "I'm not dad. Don't ever forget that."
Brady savored every bite of the New York Strip steak and the baked potato. Even the beer seemed to taste better. Most of the small talk revolved around Brady and some of his experiences that his folks hadn't heard about yet. But it was during dinner that he realized the roles each of his parents were playing out were roles they had both accepted and submitted to. His thoughts were interrupted by a man he had never seen before.
"Dena! I thought that was you!" His slurred speech and unabashed forwardness told Brady he was drunk enough to not know what he was doing. "How have you been?"
Dena immediately recognized him, and wished she hadn't. "Hello Tom. It's been a long time." She looked at Brady. "Tom is a business acquaintance from several years ago."
Tom leaned on the back of the chair in front of him to steady himself. "What the hell?!" He almost shouted, drawing the attention of half the restaurant. "You and I were more than just business acquaintances."
Dena looked over at John mortified hoping to find someone to come to her rescue. She knew anything she said to Tom would only infuriate him and make the situation worse. John looked down sheepishly, not wanting to get involved. On the one hand he enjoyed watching her being humiliated. It was payback for all the years she humiliated him. But there was that side of him that was just afraid to stand-up to someone else, let alone another man.
Brady watched everything quietly waiting, hoping his dad would step in and do something, anything. He knew his mom probably deserved the humiliation she was getting. But there was still something inside him that said this was his mother and she needed to be defended.
"Acquaintances?!" Tom bellowed again. "Hell bitch! You were the best fuck I've ever had!"
Brady jumped up. "Enough asshole!" He snarled with a low voice. Most of the restaurant was watching now. You could have heard a pin drop. "You walk away and shut your fucking mouth you worthless piece of shit, or I'll humiliate you in front of all these people."
Tom looked around the room the way a drunk does when they don't fully comprehend the severity of their situation. All his inebriated mind could focus on was that this young punk just threatened to humiliate him. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to you little shit?"
Brady walked around the table never taking his eyes off the enemy. Tom backed up a foot, intimidated by Brady's imposing figure. He grumbled low enough for just Tom to hear. "I think I'm talking to a dead man. If you open your mouth again, I'll break your jaw." Brady glared at Tom and watched the bravado drain from his eyes. Brady had seen guys like Tom his whole life. Bullies who enjoyed preying on the weakness of others. But when they're stood up to, they ran like the cowards they were. "Go home and sleep it off you piece of shit." He got within inches of his face. "If you ever bother my mother again I'll beat you so bad your mother won't recognize you."
Tom turned and saw every eye in the restaurant staring at him. He staggered out of the restaurant as quickly as he could, his two friends he had been dining with following closely behind.
Brady sat down and looked at both his parents. No one said a word. John paid the check and all three drove home in silence.
Brady sat in the basement family room watching ESPN, sipping on a whiskey, mulling over the events of the evening. His biggest struggle was with his dad. His dad who couldn't step to the plate when needed. He knew his dad had some legitimate issues with his mom. But the image of him sitting there quietly, not coming to his mom's defense. What was he supposed to do with that image. An image he'll probably have in his brain for the rest of his life.
