This is another perverse incestuous story featuring a mother, an aunt, and a young son/nephew.
I like featuring wealthy controlling matriarchs in some of my incestuous tales. I am fascinated by this archetype of the devouring mother and her need to wrap her male cub up in endless cotton wool and comprehensively protect and dominate him.
The young male in this story fancies himself a player and in charge of the situation, but he is a mother's boy. He wants to be under her thumb and she won't let him exist anywhere else.
This may not be the ideal story for you, if these sorts of themes aren't your cup of tea. There are some domination and punishment themes in this one.
*****
INTRODUCTION - THE TWO BIRD FACED WOMEN
The two men sat back in their comfortable chairs, sipped their single malt scotch and gazed into the dying fire. The blaze before them sighed and spat as it slowly subsided into a pile of glowing coals. The darkened room was filled with the whispered words and the soft laughter of huddled figures. Young men with earnest faces, dressed in waiter's garb, moved silently about, carrying glasses of gleaming liquor on dull trays.
The two men sat back in their comfortable chairs, sipped their single malt scotch and gazed into the dying fire. The younger man studied the pile of ash and soot. He watched as a log in the blackened fireplace finally crumbled and collapsed into fiery coals amid a whirling shower of sparks and a plume of dark smoke. The logs destruction woke him from his moody dream. He leant forward in his seat, turned his head and peered at his father.
The older man continued to stare into the flame and embers. He occasionally lifted the glass to his lips and drank the liquid fire. His well lined face shone pale and ghost-like in the dying light. His eyes looked hard and dark. His hair looked silver. The younger man felt unreal as he regarded his father. He wondered at the strange and surreal events, which led them to this point. Then he grew certain and strong once more. He was a person of purpose and he knew what he wanted.
The older man became aware of his son's confidence and self-belief again. His brooding abruptly ended. He dragged his gaze up and out of the fire and peered at his son with critical eyes.
The younger man noted a rising feeling of awkwardness and dislike building between them. His father scrutinised him with those hard dark eyes - their relationship had always been characterised by awkwardness and mutual dislike. The younger man had never been able to quite get in touch with his aloof, stiff and formal father. The cool distance between them was never really breached. It was like an unscaleable wall at times.
"Is there any chance of mending things with her," the young man asked softly, knowing it was a hopeless situation.
"No Tim, I think not," the older man said firmly, not looking at his son.
"So, it is over then," Tim whispered, pleased.
"Yes, and I'm sure you're happy to hear that Tim. I know she is."
"Yes, I am happy dad," Tim said softly.
"Yes, I bet you are," Lawrie snapped, turning to stare at the fire again. "Now you can have my wife all to yourself, I suppose."
"I hope so father. It's what I want most."
"Yes, of course it is. It's unhealthy Tim, but I suppose that doesn't matter to you."
Tim's father fell into a stony silence and his jaw was hard. The awkwardness between them reached a peak. Then Tim's mobile phone rang again. The sound shocked Tim out of his dreamy reveries. Lawrie slowly shook his head, raised his glass and drank again.
"I really should get it this time," Tim said, picking up the phone and looking down at it. "It may be an emergency."
"Everything with her is an emergency," Lawrie said dismissively. "Your mother loves a good emergency. She loves drama. And of course the drama usually involves you."
The phone stopped ringing. A moment later a text message appeared with a beep. Tim looked at the text and then put the phone down.
"She wants me to call her back."
"Of course she does."
"I'll phone her later."
Lawrie nodded. He drained the last of his drink and set the empty glass down before him on the table. The older man raised his hand, caught a waiter's attention and signalled. The waiter nodded. Two more drinks would soon be on their way.
For a moment Tim wondered why he was sitting there in that worn leather bound chair, at the fireplace, with his father, in his father's dark gentleman's club - neither one of them was really speaking to the other and they were barely looking at each other either. It was yet another difficult and uncomfortable lunch, but there had been a few difficult and uncomfortable lunches lately. The breakdown of Lawrie's marriage and the impending divorce had momentarily thrown Lawrie and his son together. They made an unlikely pair. Deep tensions ran below the surface. They had a lot to talk about.
It was all so strange and yet so mundane and completely expected, Tim thought as he sipped his scotch before the fire.
His father had been caught sleeping with a beautiful young woman he had met in a bar. Tim's private investigator had quickly discovered Lawrie's infidelity. Tim had notified his mother straight away. Tim's father had been driven from the family home in the middle of the night, while his wife coldly assured him she was going to take him for every penny he had. Then the divorce proceedings had been commenced, while Tim's father moved into his city apartment, the beautiful young woman from the bar disappeared, and Lawrie's determined wife schemed and calculated in her dark home.
The fresh drinks arrived. The waiter set the glasses down on the table, turned and left.
Tim's mobile phone rang again. Tim instantly picked up the phone and studied it. His father Lawrie sighed, picked up his drink, gulped and then looked around.
"Just switch it off Tim," Lawrie muttered, turning his attention back to his son.
"I'll just put it on silent," Tim replied, still scrutinising the phone.
The phone stopped ringing. Tim put the phone back down on the table. A moment later a text message appeared. Tim grabbed for the phone again.
"How many times has your mother called you today?"
Tim grinned and scratched his head.
"A few times I guess."
"A few times, you guess," Lawrie said, raising his eyebrows. He shook his head. "She won't even leave you alone for five minutes, will she?"
"No, she won't even leave me alone for five minutes."
Tim smiled. He picked up his drink and sipped. He didn't meet his father's eyes for a moment. His father was clearly annoyed. He seemed bitter and jealous.
"I'm sorry dad. I didn't want to come here and get into an argument with you about this. I mean I do love you after all."
They sat there and drank silently. Lawrie sighed and considered his predicament. He felt tired and beaten. His anger seeped away.
"Look, don't apologise Tim," Lawrie muttered softly, "You didn't force me to sleep with that woman. I just felt... I hadn't been intimate... Let's just say your mother can be quite cruel Tim. She can be very cruel indeed."
Tim smiled. Lawrie sipped his drink and continued:
"I don't hold any ill-will towards you Tim. I would have hired a private investigator as well, if I were you and wanted what you wanted. I can understand why you went straight to your mother and dobbed me in. I guess you were rubbing your hands together with glee when your investigator got the dirt on me."
Tim smiled again. He noted the tone of weary sarcasm in his father's voice. Tim declined to comment.
"I guess we should talk about this Tim," Lawrie continued. "Are you really intending to sleep with your mother?"
"Yes, I'm in love with her. She's the woman of my dreams."
Lawrie chuckled, sipped his scotch and broke into a smile. He continued:
"That's my sick mommy's boy - just as perverted as I suspected. Your mother has a lot to answer for."
It's sort of grown on my mind and taken over, I have to admit."
"Yes I can imagine, but then again maybe I can't imagine. Well, anyway, she is the queen, the very essence of the domineering, controlling, devouring mother, so I'm sure she'll tear you apart in the worst way when you finally get her into bed. I'm sure you'll love that Tim - being pecked to pieces."
Tim grinned. He stared into the fire for a moment and then turned back to his father.
"So, do you think I have a chance?"
"Oh yes, I sure do," Lawrie said, "your mother is obsessed with you Tim and her sister is just as bad. I don't why they're so fixated on you, but obviously you should turn this to your advantage, if you are determined to follow through with your plans."
"Yes. I am determined father. I have my plans in place."
"You intend to..."
"Seduce both of them," Tim said, interrupting his father.
Lawrie laughed bitterly and shook his head slowly. He raised his glass.
"Well here's to you and to your utterly depraved plan," Lawrie announced.
The two men clinked their glasses together, drank and completed their bizarre toast.
*********
PART ONE - LET'S DO IT IN THE TOILET
I quickly ascended the narrow stairs, passed through the open door, and breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out into the busy city street. I inhaled deeply. I was so pleased to have fled my cold contemptuous father and left his dark stuffy club behind me.
I saw an opportunity to pass through the noisy gridlocked traffic and safely cross the street. I took it, carefully dodging and weaving between the private sedans and yellow cabs. Irritated drivers glared at me and a few hit their horn.
I paused, once I reached the other side of the street. I searched my pocket, pulled out my mobile phone and considered my long list of missed phone calls. My mother had left eight phone messages for me and my Aunty Joan had left me five messages. I decided to call my mother first, knowing how frantic and worried she would be.
I managed to find a quiet location down a grubby side lane and phoned my mother. She picked up after only two rings.
