Self-Fulfilling Son

-1-

Michelle struggled to walk in the snow, stumbling from dead, frozen tree to dead, frozen tree. The full moon, huge, pale-blue among a starry night sky lit her way. Light reflected off the snow with an equally pale-blue hue.

The air was so cold and still, almost like a vacuum; she could hear no sound.

She paused at a black, frozen tree, her hand resting on the side. The tree was hard like cold concrete to the touch - as if it were petrified, frozen in time.

Michelle exhaled. Her breath hung in mid-air, floating like a small cloud. She looked around her, seeing a snowflake here and there, also unmoving, floating among the black trees.

"Keep going," she thought. "I have to find him, to end this."

Michelle trudged along in the soundless, wintery forest. "I have to think," she said in her head. She was having difficulty remembering why she was there and what she needed to do; everything was so blurry in her mind.

She walked for miles, the forest never seeming to end, the moon never moving, always lighting her way. She reached a clearing, not sure how many hours passed. Finally, something different.

There was a single, tall object in the distance. It was black like the trees, but had no limbs or branches. Michelle stared at the structure, the giant, full moon behind.

"Is that? No, it's nothing," Michelle thought.

She stood there, looking at the structure. Michelle guessed it was 10 feet tall and a couple feet across. The top part was slightly more bulbous than the rest of it.

She had trouble keeping her eyes open. Just as she leaned against a cold tree next to her, the object in the distance exhaled.

"What?" she mouthed.

It exhaled again, its breath floating away.

Michelle pushed herself away from the tree, hoping to move on from the clearing. She watched the object unfurl long, spindly arms. She watched its hands unfold into sharp, bone-like talons. Then its head moved.

It was staring directly at Michelle. She saw no eyes or mouth from her vantage point, only its exhales increasing in frequency.

The only sound she heard in her time in the forest came next; it was a loud, shrieking, scream. Michelle sprinted away as fast as the snow would allow.

Struggling to run, Michelle tripped and fell. She pulled herself up and kept running through the snow. Her feet felt so heavy to lift, but she kept going.

Every time she looked over her shoulder, she saw it. The object or creature was darting from tree-to-tree, catching up with her. "No," she thought.

The black, thin, tall being caught up to her, extending its boney hand, grabbing her by her neck. It lifted her high off the ground.

Michelle had trouble breathing, squirming in its grasp. She saw its skin, bark-like and hard. It opened its mouth, revealing long, straight, black teeth. It screamed in her face, bringing her closer to it.

Its tongue whipped out of its mouth, sliding up Michelle's body, cutting her worn clothes off her. She dangled and wiggled, expecting the end to approach. In the distance, behind the creature, she saw a bright light approach.

Its tongue lapped at her pussy, over her flat stomach, in between her breasts and to her face. "Please, I have to find him," Michelle thought she spoke aloud, but didn't hear any sound.

The light approaching from behind became bigger and bigger.

Michelle could see the teeth, now inches from her face. Its mouth opened further to tear her head off her body. Everything went white next.

Blinding, white light filled her vision, blocking out her view the monster. It released her, she fell to the snow, the light faded. When she opened her eyes, she saw the creature slit in half, falling over, presumably dead.

Behind its corpse stood a massive man, just as tall as the monster he slayed, wearing glowing, angelic armor. He gave off heat, melting the snow, warming the air - as if he were the sun in human form.

"You, I found you," Michelle spoke, hearing her words clearly now.

The giant man, leaned down, picking up her nude body and carried her away. She felt like a small child in his arms.

Michelle had no idea where they were going or how they were getting there; she couldn't look away from his armor-covered face.

They landed somewhere warm and alive. She didn't recall how long they traveled and assumed this being flew them there.

He laid her body on a giant bed - his bed. Michelle watched him turn around, removing his sword and armor. When he turned around, naked like Michelle, she drank in his massive muscles, gigantic cock, and his face. Her eyes lit up, she found who she was looking for.

"I have to - " she whispered, unable to finish her words, the giant man crawled on top of her, kissing her neck. His cock rested on her tummy. He reared back and slid it effortlessly inside her, causing her an instant orgasm.

"Wait! I have to tell you - " Michelle managed to say. "Ahhh!" she cried out from pleasure, the man rolling his hips against her, his immense manhood causing no pain or stretching, only ecstasy.

"Mmmm," she moaned, forgetting everything.

She arched her back, he sucked her entire right breast into his mouth, and she climaxed again.

Releasing her tit, he smiled at her face, caressing it with his huge hand. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Son," Michelle smiled back. "Don't stop."

"I never will," he replied, continuing to roll his hips, driving his cock deeper into her over and over. The room lit up, brighter and brighter as he went on, totally enveloping them in light.

Michelle woke up. Gasping for air in her bed; sunlight streaming through her bedroom window.

"Shit," she grumbled, running her hands through her long, black hair.

She checked her panties, they were soaked. She grabbed her phone, checking the time - 8:23 am. Michelle turned the phone over, took a deep breath. She checked the time again - still 8:23.

In her bathroom, she looked in the mirror, staring for several seconds. She closed her eyes, reopened them and saw her reflection looking back at her - nothing out of the ordinary. She looked at her phone - 8:24 am.

"Whew. Guess I'll keep trying," Michelle thought, using the bathroom.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she wrote in her dream journal as much as she could remember from the dream she had just had. Michelle wondered if the dream journal was helping. She finished the entry, shrugged, and hid the journal away in her bedside table.

Michelle checked her reflection once more after putting on her yoga shorts and tank top. She headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for her and her son, Mikey.

-2-

"The gunman wielded a shotgun and acted alone. There was no indication this was related to a terrorist - " the TV droned on in the background. Michelle momentarily pausing her cutting of fruits to watch the report. They showed the man's face, overweight, balding.

She shivered, and turned the TV off to resume making her and Mikey a smoothie.

A few seconds later she felt his warmth behind her, his arms sliding around her body, pulling her against him. The 18-year-old, Mikey kissed the top of her head.

"Good morning," Michelle said, turning around in his arms, placing her hands on his chest. She kissed his cheek, a strange feeling came over her. She turned around and continued chopping fruits.

"Ready for the long day?" Mikey asked, slapping her ass as he walked to the living room.

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her phone, checking the time, and then looked into the small mirror she placed against the window.

"Mikey, I wished you'd stop slapping my butt like that," she said, looking at the time again, seeing the numbers clearly.

"Sorry. It looks great. Guess I feel it needs to be slapped every once in a while," Mikey confessed.

"Uh huh," Michelle rolled her eyes again.

She did nothing to discourage it otherwise. She kept wearing her tiny, spandex, workout clothes - blaming the hot Miami weather. Mikey occasionally slapping her butt wasn't the only thing she could request that he stop doing.

The longer hugs, kisses, hand holding, all of it felt like they were a couple. Michelle never said anything, wondering if the sexual dreams about her son, she had almost nightly, desensitized her to affection like that.

She wondered if her own behavior had changed because of the dreams. She grabbed a smoothie for him and herself and made her way to his lap.

"Then you're going to sit on my lap like this?" Mikey grinned, sipping his drink.

"Yeah? So?" Michelle grinned back.

"You want me to stop slapping that booty of yours, yet you sit the thing right on me."

"I know, crazy right?" Michelle knew he had a point, but didn't care.

An image of his naked body from her dream flashed in her mind. He looked so incredible; not too different than in real life, minus the 10-foot-tall part.

"Alright, let's get out of here. We got a long day," Michelle shook the image from head and got off his lap.

Mikey slapped her ass once more. Michelle turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. "Oops, sorry. It slipped," he said.

"You're so bad," she chuckled.

Mikey drove and Michelle held his hand. She wondered again if the dreams were affecting her real-life behavior.

She's been trying for several weeks to end the sex dreams about her son. Having decided against talking to a therapist about them, Michelle decided to try another method - lucid dreaming.

Michelle wanted to become aware she was dreaming, then change the dream to how she saw fit. She was hoping to "break up" with Mikey in the dream before they had sex. Michelle thought if she ended the sex dream before it started, then perhaps she would no longer have them, or at least be able to stop the sex from occurring within them.

So far she wasn't successful. She struggled to remember what to say or do. In the dreams, everything, including her memory and desire to talk to Mikey, were blurry.

She kept a dream journal, documenting every sex dream about Mikey she had. It helped her remember the dreams and hopefully be able to control them.

All throughout the day, Michelle practiced reality checks. She'll try to read something; the time on her phone in most cases. A sign of dreaming is text or numbers being difficult to read or in a strange language. She also checked her reflection. If her image was unrecognizable or distorted, Michelle would hopefully become aware she was dreaming. These reality checks were done most often when she's around the subject of her sex dreams - her son.

She achieved lucidity a few times. Unable to do a reality check, like the previous dream she had, Michelle was able to become aware inside her dream. Unfortunately, having the important conversation, ending the sex dream with Mikey has proven very difficult.

Michelle and son arrived at the gym, their yoga class waiting for them. They spent their days there together. Mikey was her assistant. After yoga, Michelle ran a spinning class. Then after lunch, her and Mikey tended to individual or small groups of clients who sought her services as a personal trainer. They usually ended their work day at seven or eight in the evening.

Michelle loved having Mikey around, helping her with clients. She even competed in a few figure competitions. Mikey was right by her side, helping and training with her.

She assumed their increased closeness might spur the inappropriate dreams about him.

After a light dinner, Michelle was nodding off on the couch. Lately she snuggled up to Mikey, his arm around her, as they channel surfed after eating. They've also been saying good night with sweet kisses on the lips. This was a fairly recent development too. Tonight was no different. Michelle kissed his lips and got off the couch, only to have her ass slapped again.

"You aren't going to stop are you?" she feigned anger at him.

"It's almost like a reflex. I see that thing all day."

"Are you staring at it too?"

"Can't help it. Sorry," Mikey joked, holding his hands up.

For a split second, Michelle thought about mooning him, but shook her head and stuck out her tongue instead.

Sitting on the side of her bed, in a t-shirt and panties, Michelle took several deep breaths. "I will be aware that I'm dreaming," she whispered a few times. "I can do this. I can end them. I will be aware that I'm dreaming and talk to Mikey."

Michelle glanced at the time on her phone one last time, repeating the phrase over and over again.

-3-

Michelle was riding Mikey's cock as hard and as fast as she could. Her dark hair and chin were dripping sweat onto him. They were in an apartment, in a tall building, on a couch going at it. Moonlight shone in, illuminating her slick back.

"Fuck me, fuck me!" she ordered her son, his crazed thrusts meeting her grinding body against his.

He grit his teeth, holding her waist. "You like it?"

"I love it! Fuck that pussy," Michelle said. Mikey slapped her ass several times.

"It's mine," He sat up, her breasts banging against his face. He held her tightly as she rode him. "My pussy."

"Yes!" she cried out. "Don't stop fucking me!"

Michelle and Mikey were startled by the apartment door to their right bursting open. Someone was standing there, silhouetted by light from a hallway.

"No!" the person yelled, her voice sounding like Michelle. She stepped forward, into the moonlight. It was Michelle.

"Get off him!" Michelle growled at herself. This second Michelle's hand gripped the first's throat, pulling her off Mikey's cock.

Semen and pussy juices poured out of Michelle, creating a puddle on the floor. The second Michelle spun around, and threw the first toward a window.

Michelle watched in horror as her son stood to chase after her, but was clotheslined by this invading other Michelle.

She crashed through the window, glass shattering all around her. The apartment window got smaller and smaller as she fell from the high-rise.

"Mikey!" she reached out, falling further away from him.

Everything became darker as she fell. Michelle never hit the ground, instead only falling into darkness.

Soon she was surrounding by pitch black. She heard herself talking, asking questions. "Did I create her? Was that me trying to end things with Mikey?"

Michelle heard a whisper in the darkness; a simple "yes."

She woke up to her darkened room. Reaching for her phone, she knocked it off her bedside table. Michelle crawled to the floor feeling for it. A few seconds later, after finding it, she checked the time - 3:34 am.

She got back in bed, thinking about the dream, about the sex, how good it felt to fuck him as hard as possible. "No," she forced herself from continuing with her perverse thoughts.

Checking the time again - 3:36 - the numbers looking normal, Michelle rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep. She fought with herself, struggling to resist thinking of being filled with Mikey's cum. She sat up, turned her light on and wrote in her dream journal.

"Total failure with that one. It went straight to sex. I need to keep trying. Try something else in the dream to end it," she thought, lying on her back. "We fucked so hard though. All that cum pouring out of me. No! Stop it."

Michelle calmed herself down, thinking of the next day's plans and meetings - thinking nothing about her son or sex with him.

****

"Is he your boyfriend?" an older lady client asked Michelle later that day.

"Um - "

"I sure am," Mikey put his arm around his mother, overhearing the conversation.

Michelle had no time to react, instead blushing.

"See, Hank? I told you they were boyfriend and girlfriend," the old lady called out to her husband, her session with Michelle ending.

"Why did you tell her that?" Michelle swatted at Mikey's arm.

He shrugged, "I don't know. Just messing around."

They gathered their bags, Mikey's hand resting on the small of his mother's back, holding doors open for her. She grabbed his hand upon leaving the gym, not once thinking it looked like something a couple would do.

After dinner, Michelle was on his lap, spoon feeding him and herself yogurt. Mikey was watching more new reports about the crazed shooter.

"Ugh, turn it. I don't want to see his face. Wished they wouldn't show it," Michelle said, holding a spoon to her son's mouth. He ate the yogurt, Michelle eating a spoonful next.

Mikey turned the TV off, leaning his head back on the couch. Michelle finished the yogurt and put her arm around him.

"Do you have a girlfriend? I mean, never mind. You don't. You hang out with me all day," Michelle said.

"Yeah, you."

"Ha. I'm not your girlfriend."

"Fine. If and when you're ready to date, I'll be around," Mikey joked, patting her lower back.

"I'll keep that in mind, silly," Michelle gave him a goodnight peck on the lips and got off his lap. Mikey slapped her butt as she walked away. Michelle smiled, tousling his hair when she walked by the couch.

****

Michelle was in a gym. It looked different, smaller, than the one she frequented. It was only one room, with large, glass windows looking out onto a street downtown.

She was the only woman amidst several, hulking, bodybuilder-like men. Michelle noticed them all moving in slow motion, lifting 100 pound dumbbells up and down. She watched one sit the dumbbell down and wipe his forehead with a towel. He looked at Michelle, tugging on an erection in his shorts.

Michelle stepped forward, looking up to him. Another man, towering above her, slowly moved into position. Then another, finally a fourth, all surrounded her. She smiled watching them remove their clothes. Their sweaty bodies glistening, their large cocks dangling for Michelle to bring to life.

She turned in circles, her hands traveling over their bodies, smiling at what she was going to do to them. However, something caught her eye.

She saw something on the wall mirror the gym had. In between two big men, there was an image, a distortion. Michelle pushed past the men, the distortion getting larger as Michelle approached the mirror.

She was looking at her reflection. It was barely even humanoid shaped, more like an amorphous, dark shape, with no texture.

"I'm dreaming," she whispered. Then she heard a scream. It sounded like a young boy.

"Mikey?" Michelle turned, looking toward the front door.

"Mommy!" the boy screamed for her.

Michelle picked up a 100-pound dumbbell and threw it like a baseball, through an opening where the men stood, through the front window, shattering it.

Michelle ran through the large hole in the window, hearing her son calling for help. He was all that mattered.

Cars were empty, littering the streets, save for two people. One was a young boy, her son, the other was a shotgun wielding, overweight, bald man. Michelle recognized him. He was the shooter in the news.

He had his shotgun aimed at Mikey. The man was yelling, screaming, but no noise came out of his mouth. The only sound Michelle heard were birds chirping and Mikey occasionally calling out to her.

Michelle sped to the man, standing in front of his shotgun. He roared at her, spit landing on her face, no sound coming from his mouth.

Michelle grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and crushed it like the cardboard tube leftover from an empty roll of paper towels. The man's eyes lit up with shock, he began cursing, still silent. Michelle grabbed his throat, lifted him off the ground, and crushed it in a similar way to the shotgun barrel. She flung him across the street into the side of a building.

Michelle scooped up her son, "Come, we need to talk."

She jumped in the air, landing on top of a building. Michelle sat Mikey down, knowing this was her moment to end things with him. Now was the time for her to put a stop to their incestuous dreams. Michelle gathered her thoughts of how to deliver the news, eyes to the roof of the building. She wasn't paying attention to Mikey growing before her eyes. He grew taller, bigger, his clothing stretched and tore, falling off his body. He cast a shadow at her feet.