Released

As I lay there in my bed with my hard erection in my hand my thoughts went to that night three years ago when I was 18 and my mother was 36. It had been an evening like most evenings and we had eaten a good meal together late as usual when she suggested that we had a drink. It was a Thursday but I was happy to accept her offer (as I said I was 18 years old and as such I drank everything with alcohol in it that I could get my hands on). Besides, the only reason my mother would have of giving me a drink would be something special and as she went into the living room were our drink cabinet was I wondered what she wanted to talk about that was so important that she would drink with me. We never were especially open. She came back with a glass in each hand and gave me one of them and gestured for me to come into the living room with her. I pointed at the dishes but she said that she could do them later and then I knew it was something very important that she wanted to speak about, she was pretty anal about cleaning and all other orderly things in the house. That was probably because she had been alone for so long with me, my father didn't like the thought of a 18 year old mother and he never turned back. Luckily the same tendencies put food on our table as she always seemed to get attractive job offers. Back then she was working as a shrink for some wealthy people, if I remember it correctly, and thus it was a rich period for us even though she worked a lot.

At first I sat down on my spot in my armchair but she asked if I could come and sit next to her on our sofa instead. The leather screamed as I sat down at the unfamiliar spot next to my mother. I noticed that her dress had been pulled up as she sat so that I could see her thighs. Her stockings had a pattern above the knees which I hadn't seen before. At the same time I also smelled that she had put on some kind of heavy, aromatic perfume, also unfamiliar to me. She had turned her body towards me and the way she sat exaggerated her cleavage, her arms pressed to the sides of her breasts and I wondered why she did that. I noticed that my mother had already started on her drink and so I followed suit and drank some of mine. It was strong and sweet with some bitter aftertaste and because I didn't care much for the bitter taste I tried to cover it up with another sip. She put her hand mine and lifted it up and placed it on her stocking clad thigh and I could feel her heat coming up from her flesh through the pattern that felt rough under my hand. I opened my mouth to ask her why she had put my hand there but I was tongue tied and couldn't say anything. Awkwardly I felt an erection in my pants but I tried to dismiss it as a consequence of the alcohol and my mother's strange behavior and I drank several more sips of my drink, waiting for my mother to start talking.

After a long time I wondered if she would say anything at all and I started to feel tired and tried to stand up but I couldn't. My mother moved closer to me and held my hand in place on her thigh so that it wouldn't move with one hand and when she had shifted she placed her other on my upper thigh, close to my erection. I started to panic. What if my mother would feel my erection, my cock, against her hand? Dizziness came over me and the room spun around me and I didn't know if I would vomit or just sit there and let it happen. When she dragged my hand on her thigh higher up, over the patterned stocking to her naked flesh, I looked her in the eyes, seeking some kind of forgiveness for the situation, I guess. But the only thing I saw in her eyes was the thing I had seen in my girlfriend's eyes the first time she fell onto her knees in front of me and gave me my first blowjob. Therefore I looked away and once again tried to stand up, this time with the help of my hands, but my hands were limp and I just sank deeper and the heat of her hand on my thigh was just below my erection and I knew that she had to feel my jeans stretch above her hand. The hand that I had on her thigh felt warmer still and I thought that I could feel her tremble under my touch. At the same moment that her hand reached my erection I lost my consciousness and felt myself fall into a red, fleshy warmth. My last impression was her hand stroking my erection with slow and hard strokes.

Headache was the first thing that I felt when I returned from unconsciousness, the second thing was the thing that pried my jaws open and the last thing that I discovered first was my hands stretched above my head and I felt rope around my wrists. I was in our basement, I could see our washing machine with the laundry beside it, and the clotheslines were just a few meters away from my face. My clothes from yesterday were with the laundry and suddenly I felt that I was naked even if the basement was warm enough so that I didn't freeze. As I looked above my head I saw a hook in the roof that held the rope that tied my arms. As I looked down I saw that my feet had been secured by leather straps to an iron bar that was in its turn secured to the floor. This wasn't spontaneous, I thought. The concrete roof, the concrete floor, took some serious drilling to put hooks in and the rope and the iron bar and the leather straps were not common in an ordinary store.

Quickly I looked around for some other signs that this wasn't a thing that had just sprung into the head of my mother but was something that she had planned for some time. Because that would scare the crap out of me, I knew. And I saw the thing that I had been looking for, or at least I thought so. On the floor was a big, black sport bag that seemed to be full. The only thing that I saw of the things inside was the rest of the rope and a broken package with a picture of a ball gag on it, with nothing inside. At first I didn't get it, it was too farfetched but eventually I couldn't pretend otherwise and I accepted what I saw and now when I knew what to search for the tip of my tongue felt a rubber surface and soon the taste of it made me nauseous. The picture of a ball gag, with a black leather strap attached to a big, red rubber ball made it easy for me to imagine how it would look like in my mouth. I began to shake and I think I cried even if I'm not sure. At least I'm sure that I had an erection, I would never forget that. As I tried to fight all my troubled emotions I shook in my bondage and saliva ran between my lips and the rubber ball before I heard someone go down the stairs to the basement.

The sound of my mother's high heels echoed in the small space before I laid my eyes on her. She was dressed in the black suit with the airy costume pants that she usually wore to the office and some logical part of my mind wondered if she was on her way or had just returned. I guessed that she was on her way but only because that was usually the case when I woke up. Desperately I tried to look her in the eyes but she never even looked at my face after she had checked that the ball gag was still in place and I made a questioning noice that sounded muffled through the rubber ball. That at last made her look at me and I saw the same stare that I remembered from yesterday, that horny look, but I also saw something cruel in her eyes. Her lips formed into a red smile and she walked slowly towards me with exaggerated hip movements and when she was close enough to touch her hand reached out to my breast and slid down my stomach to rest on the tip of my cock and slowly she circled the shaft with her hand and pulled back the foreskin.

"My, that is a surprise." She started to stroke my cock with hard motions and I moaned even though I tried not to. When precum came she stopped and dipped one of her fingers in the fluid and put it in her mouth, and she seemed to enjoy the taste immensely. After the taste she walked behind me and put her hands on my shoulders and her mouth so close to my ear that I could feel them and a shudder went down my body. "When I come back from work I will start, until then you will hang here. But..." She let go of me and walked to the sport bag and bend over at the waist and put her hands in the bag and pulled out a black rubber cone similar to a dildo and I realized that it was a butt plug. She also produced a small bottle and she poured a liquid from the bottle onto the plug and walked behind me once more. "I will not leave you alone like this." And I felt the small butt plug press against my ass and even though I couldn't relax she pressed it in and it hurt so much that I screamed a little but she only chuckled and with a clicking sound she activated a vibrator in the butt plug and I felt my cock grow harder immediately. My mother didn't miss this and she kissed me on my cheek next to the rubber ball and looked into my eyes with that same intense look before she walked to the stairs again. Before she left she shut off the light and when she had come to the top of the stairs I heard her shut the door behind her and I was left in the dark with the constant humming from my ass and the vibrations against my g-spot.

For a moment I shouted after her but when I heard my own muffled sounds I stopped and tried not to think about the butt plug. That turned out to be impossible and for several hours I just hang there, accustoming myself to the feelings that I feared was the start of so much more. Precum leaked from my cock onto the concrete floor.

One thing that my mother was not, I noticed after maybe three hours, was a scout and the rope around my wrists was tied with crude knots that were bad for the purpose. Now, I wasn't a scout myself but my only goal was to break free from the rope, just one hand would do to set me free, and I started to wriggle both of my hands, stretching myself so far up that I could loosen the rope a little. Soon I started to feel something that I could work with and after an hour of excruciatingly slow work I released one of my hands and when that was done I set my other hand free and when that was done it was easy to free my legs. At first I fell down on my knees, one of them landing in the cool stain of my precum.

Even a short time in the upright position had made me unsteady and my arms were sore from being lifted so long. When I had worked the tingles out of my arms I reached behind me and pulled out the butt plug and threw it in a corner before I unbuckled the ball gag and let it fall on the sport bag. After that I didn't stay any longer in the house than it took me to dress from the laundry in front of me and I took the bus into town to settle down and think. I wondered if I should call the police, but I wouldn't know what to say to them. So I just ate some breakfast and tried to handle the situation as best I could. It was evening when I at last ventured home again only to see that my mother's car was still away and the windows of the house still dark. But I noticed that someone had been in the house, the postage had been put on its usual resting place on the kitchen table and some other things were just a bit moved. I listened before I dared to say anything at all.

"Mom?" It was barely a whisper but I couldn't say it any louder. Nobody answered my feeble cry but I knew that no one was home anyway. That was when I saw the note beside the postage on the kitchen table and when I looked closer I saw that it was to me in my mother's handwriting. It was impersonally written and she simply stated that she would move into a mental institution for the time being but that she had left some money to take me through school and to further education if that was what I wanted. There was no "I am sorry" or anything and I threw away the note which glided on the air to land on the table once more. As if it was some kind of starting signal I started to walk fast when it landed and I walked to the basement door and after a short pause I opened the door and went down the stairs only to find that everything strange was gone once more, even if the hook and the modifications in the concrete were still there. The laundry was still there too. As I went up to my room I passed my mother's and I saw that she had emptied some of her drawers and only left those clothes that she didn't like. In my room I found the butt plug on my bed and I stood still for a long time, just looking at the black thing. My mother must have cleaned it before she put it there. Eventually I picked it up and put it in my nightstand drawer, away from sight.

The butt plug did not stay there for very long and just some weeks after my mother's disappearance I made a habit of masturbating with the vibrating butt plug up my ass but it was only much later that I accepted that I did this thinking of what my mother had tried to do with me, and partially succeeded to do. After that I became obsessed with the thought of what would have happened if I hadn't gotten out of the ropes that day and I never had any other sexual fantasy after that. Two years passed slowly with the uncertainty of my mother hanging above me whatever I did, with a forbidden erection just a memory away. At last I started to look up BDSM sites to find out what she could have had in that bag that she had taken with her, and I wondered long and hard about the horrible treasures in it. I came harder than I had come in a long time the night after I had gotten news from my mother that she would be released from the mental institution the very next week, the butt plug vibrating nicely in my ass.