The Gamble - Part 4
By Scorpio00155(c)
As more of my senses returned so too did the burning need to be fucked,
I didn't even have the will to try to resist the lust, I just let it
wash over me. Then my eyes focused, the first thing I saw was Cherrie,
limping out of the gym, her own dildo stuffed all the way in her arse.
Suddenly Don was looming over me, there was no pity in his eyes as he
looked down at me, and his lips set in a grim angry line.
"Time for us to go," he stated, "but I'm leaving you with a reminder of
what you have become."
He kicked me onto my stomach and then there came a strange, "whooshing"
sound, Weakly I turned my head so that I could see him and my eyes
widened in shock when I saw him holding something in the flames of a
blowtorch.
"No need to tell you this is going to hurt," he grinned into my fear
filled eyes, "I guess you've figured that out for yourself."
He twisted and turned the object in the flame letting it heat evenly,
it was when he pulled it out of the flame for a moment to inspect it
that I saw what it was he held and I gasped in horror. He grinned at me
then went back to heating what I knew was a branding iron, when the
iron was almost white hot he turned off the blowtorch then put a foot
in the small of my back, holding the brand in one hand he grabbed my
left leg with the other.
"No!" I whispered in terror, but even then I felt my body rising to
another climax as it anticipated the pain that was to come.
"Hold fucking still!" Don barked.
Suddenly he plunged the brand down onto the upper part of my left
thigh, at first I was too shocked to even feel the pain, but then it
exploded through me, as I sucked in air to scream I caught the smell of
my own flesh cooking. My scream rent the air as he removed the brand;
it was as though the agony of being branded countered the effects of
the drugs because I was suddenly free of the burning lust that had
filled me for so long. Don leaned over me and I cringed.
"No more," I pleaded through my tears of agony, "please god no more!"
I almost fainted with relief when his hands went to the ropes on my
arms and untied them, the rush of returning circulation made me groan.
His hand grabbed my hair and twisted my head around so he looked into
my eyes.
"We're leaving now," he sneered, "but you never know, we may be back
this way again sometime, I know you'd like that. Want to know what the
brand says?"
I could only nod in reply.
"It says 'SLUT!'" he grinned, "because that's what you are now."
He let go of my hair and started to walk away, and then he stopped.
"Stay right where you are until you hear a clock chime, then you can go
home." He said over his shoulder, "Though I doubt you'll find the wimp
there, I don't think he'll want to go anywhere near you again! Better
hope he never hears about you being willing to kill him just to get
fucked!"
Laughing he left me in my desolation, left me with the oh so clear
memories of all that had happened to me while I had been in their power
and my shame filled memory of offering to kill my son just so I could
be fucked with a fake plastic cock! I have no idea how long I lay there
in my misery, lay there wishing that Cherrie had been left to kill me
and even now my body was burning with the desire to be taken!
Exhaustion, pain and despair overtook me and I fainted away.
******************************************************
I woke in a soft, warm comfortable bed with a start. It was my own bed
in my own bedroom and I wondered for a moment if my hours of torment
had been nothing more than a dream, but then the aches and pains of my
body awoke and I knew it had been no dream. Then I felt myself start to
grow aroused and the familiar yearning for sex welled up in me yet
again. Tears of shame and humiliation sprang to my eyes, tears of pity
for what I had become in the hands of Don and his gang, tears of grief
at the loss of my son thanks to Don and myself. For some time I lay
wallowing in my misery before it finally sank in to me that I had no
memory of getting myself home. Stunned I lifted the sheets from me to
find that I was naked, bruises covered me, but I could see that I had
been bathed, cleaned of the semen that had filled me and coated me,
more, my wounds had been tended and I knew for sure that I had not had
the strength to have done all this.
Trying to rise I found that I was too weak to even roll over, I groaned
in pain from my effort to move and as though it had been a cue the door
to my bedroom opened. Confused I looked towards the door then gasped as
a person entered bearing a tray of food and drink.
"Bob!" I gasped in surprise.
Then I felt myself filled with guilt at the memory of telling Cherrie I
would kill my son if she would just touch me, just help me to get off.
Blushing in shame I looked down at my uncovered body, it seemed so
pointless covering myself after all that had happened.
"Mum?" my son said softly.
"I'm sorry!" I blurted out without raising me eyes, I couldn't bear to
look at him and see that look of disdain, that look of hatred his eyes
had held when I last saw, even worse was my inner guilt at having been
willing to kill him for Cherrie just to gain satisfaction, "I'm so
sorry!"
He said nothing and I felt my heart sink at the thought that I was not
even worth the effort of a response in his eyes.
"Mum," he repeated firmly, "look at me."
"I can't," I sobbed putting my hands to my face, "I'm too ashamed to
look at you, too afraid of seeing your hatred for me. Please Bob, leave
me, I know it's what you want to do."
He said nothing, but after putting the tray on my bedside table he left
the room, as the door closed I curled into a ball and wept, my meal
went untouched. All I could think of was how at the end I had betrayed
my son.
Days passed and my body gradually healed from its physical hurts, the
bruises, scratches and bite marks fading until it was almost as though
nothing had been done to me. Inwardly it was a different story,
whenever I slept my mind would cast up the nightmare moment when I told
Cherrie I'd kill Bob if she'd just touch me, I would wake sobbing and
wracked with guilt. For the first week I wouldn't stir from my room
other than to use the bathroom, during the second week I would move
around the house but only at times I knew I would not meet my son. As
the time passed I let myself go, my hair became unkempt and tangled and
bags formed under my eyes from my avoiding sleep to stop the nightmares.
Almost as bad was the constant hunger in me, Don's words about
the 'side effects' of the drugs they'd fed me came back to me, 'you'll
always feel horny, always have the itch to be fucked, putting it
bluntly you'll be a nympho slut!' I was discovering how true his words
had been. I tried to resist the need that was filling me, tried to
convince myself that it would fade once the drugs worked their way out
of my system, but after three days I couldn't fool myself any longer,
the drugs had to be out of my system yet the urge to be fucked was
growing not fading. Out of desperation I masturbated, but that only
seemed to feed the hunger, no matter how often I would do myself or
what I used to bring myself off the huger was still there, it was
demanding a cock, demanding that I be fucked!
Throughout all this Bob seemed to be always there, he brought me meals
and drinks, at times I heard him cleaning the house with the vacuum. I
couldn't face him though, couldn't even be with him in the same room
because of my own feelings of guilt, I loved him desperately, but I
could not face him knowing what I would have done just to satisfy my
own cravings. Nor could I tell him of my betrayal, it was bad enough
remembering how he had looked at me and called me a 'slut' when I had
lied about loving what was happening, about how I had played the same
games with Don and his gang before that night, I could not bear his
reaction if he ever learnt how I had offered his life for my pleasure.
Time and again he tried to talk to me as he gave me my meals or caught
me prowling the house in the dead of night, but I would either retreat
to my room or tell him he should leave me, anything but to answer him.
That one act of betrayal was destroying me even while my body was
tormenting me with its demands for satisfaction.
Then, part way through the third week, Bob was gone! Even though I had
been telling him he should leave me it was a jolt to discover he had
actually done so, it drove me even deeper into depression. I don't
remember much of the following few days, I know I didn't eat and only
drank intermittently, my son's final rejection of me by leaving had
taken the heart out of me completely. Tears filled my eyes constantly
as I sat despondently in his room, looking at the things he had
abandoned to get away from me. Even the hunger in me faded to a mere
distant echo as I sat motionless in my desolation.
"Jesus mum" Bob's voice suddenly sounded from the doorway, "you're a
mess!"
"Bob!" I gasped, my mind reeling with shock, "You came back!"
He gave me a puzzled look then left the room, my heart sank at the
thought that he had only come back for a few of his things, but moments
later he was back with a sheet of paper in his hand.
"I left you a note," he said handing me the sheet of paper, "how could
you have missed it?"
Looking down at the paper I fought to focus my eyes, the note was
short, but clearly stated that he would be back in a few days. My hands
shook as I let the paper drop to the floor and for the first time in
what felt like an eternity looked at my son's face, hoping against hope
to see forgiveness in his eyes, even though he had no clue what he
should forgive me for. I almost fainted at the look of love and concern
his eyes held, as I swayed he stepped forward to support me and for a
brief moment I felt comforted, but then my betrayal of him came back to
haunt me and I pushed myself from him with a sob.
"Mum!" he cried mournfully, "Oh God mum, please forgive me, had I known
what was going to happen I would never have said anything about the
challenge!"
He tried to take my hand and I fled with a cry, retreating to my room I
tried to close the door only to find my son already in the doorway.
"Was it me calling you those things, doing those things to you?" he
pleaded with me, "I ... I ... oh mum!"
I gasped as he put his face in his hands and wept, he was in despair,
seeking forgiveness from me for having fallen for the lies I had been
forced to tell him! How could he not know that I held no blame in my
heart for him, the guilt was mine, all mine and I couldn't tell him why!
"Damn it!" he suddenly cursed, making me jump in surprise at the force
of his words, tears still flowed in his eyes as he looked at me
determination, "Mum we have to talk, we can't avoid it any longer!"
"Bob!" I gasped, "I can't, please don't ask me to, please!"
"We have to!" he said forcefully, "You go and clean yourself up, you
look a mess. I'll fix us something to eat and then we will talk!"
The forcefulness behind his words brooked no argument, I dreaded the
very thought that I might blurt out what I had done, but at the same
time I almost dropped to my knees in front of him in the submissive
posture Don had made me use while I had been in his power. Shocked by
that urge I ran to the bathroom and went though the motions of bathing,
washing my hair and combing it out, all the while I was torn by my
inner thoughts and feelings. Returning to my room I put on fresh
clothes for the first time in days, perhaps even weeks, my legs felt
leaden as I turned towards my bedroom door. Making my way downstairs I
stopped in the kitchen doorway, watching Bob putting plates on the
table then fetching drinks for us both.
"Sit down." He ordered as soon as he became aware of my presence.
Almost mindlessly I obeyed, he sat opposite me and started eating while
I sat staring at my plate, unable to look across the table at him.
"Eat!" he said sharply.
I jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, the tone he used commanding,
brooking no argument and I ate, slowly at first then ravenously as my
body wolfed down the calories I had been denying it for days. Not once
did I look at my son while we ate, I just couldn't bear to let him see
the guilt clearly written in my eyes, I was dreading the moment when he
would insist that I talk with him. All too soon our plates were empty,
Bob cleared away the table then told me to go into the living room, his
tone of voice still commanding. Almost meekly I did as I was told and
felt ashamed at the sudden surge of lust that rose in me as I obeyed my
son's terse words. Sitting myself in the centre of the couch I waited
for my son to join me, trembling with the fear of what I may reveal to
him.
"Okay mum," Bob said as he handed me a glass of wine, "shall we talk
now or just relax together for a little while?"
"Let's relax for a while." I answered trying to put off the moment when
we would talk about what had happened.
Bob shrugged and turned on the TV, the news was on and a political item
was just ending, the opening of the next item jerked me bolt upright
with a gasp.
"In Leeds today seventeen youths were burnt to death in a fire at a"
the announcer was saying, "disused warehouse. Fire Officers at the
scene are in no doubt that the fire was started deliberately, though it
is too early to say whether the youths themselves or a third party
started it. At the same time Police are investigating the contents of a
mini-bus found parked at the scene."
I stared in shock at the sight of Don's mini-bus on the TV screen; I
almost missed the announcers' next words.
"Although not releasing details a Police spokesperson has indicated
that certain video and photographic material depicting scenes of rape
and sexual torture may have a bearing on the case. It has also been
indicated that a large quantity of a substance believed to be a mix
of..."
"Turn it off!" I cried out, "Please turn it off!"
Bob did as I asked then looked at me, his face calm, I felt anything
but calm, I had been aware at the end that my entire humiliation and
humbling had been videoed, those tapes had to have been part of the
haul the police had been referring to. How long would it take them to
learn who I was? How long before they came asking how I could do such
things? I was mortified at the thought that strangers might even now be
watching me offering to exchange my son's life for a moment's pleasure!
"Mum." Bob's voice impinged on my roiling thoughts, "MUM!"
I jumped at his shout, my eyes sliding to his face then away as I tried
to calm my ever-growing panic.
"Don't worry about it," Bob was saying, "they won't be coming here."
"But the tapes," I gasped, "they have all the tapes, including those
of..."
"I said don't worry about it!" his voice was firm on the point.
"Oh God, they'll see!" I sobbed unable to accept his calm statement not
to worry, "They'll see how I betrayed..."
I gasped as I almost let slip the one thing I dare not reveal to him.
"Betrayed?" he asked in a puzzled tone, "What do you mean?"
I shook my head and bit my lower lip as I tried to avoid his gaze and
giving him an answer.
"It had to be something that happened after you made me leave." He
mused as I shrank inwardly.
"Please Bob," I wept, "please don't ask me!"
He frowned then went out to the hall, a moment later he was back with a
sports bag, putting the bag on the floor near the TV he opened it and
sorted through whatever it was that it held. Suddenly he nodded and
pulled out a videotape, I stared at his actions in confusion as he put
the tape in the video, put the TV back on and hit the play button.
Picking up the remote he started to fast forward the tape, aghast I
watched the high speed pictures that shot across the screen and almost
fainted when the tape slowed to normal speed and my own voice came from
the TV saying those damning words!
"What would you do so that I would do that?" Cherrie asked from the TV.
"Anything!" my voice from the screen sounding so eager to please.
"Anything?" her voice mocked me again, "Anything at all?"
"Anything at all!" I gasped from the screen.
"Even kill your own son?" Cherrie whispered that fateful question from
the screen.
"Yes!" my own voice damned me from the TV screen, "Even kill my own
son!"
At those words Bob stopped the video and seemed to sink into the
nearest chair, his face pale as he stared at the screen. Then he turned
towards me and I hid my face in my hands as I waited for him to vilify
me for my betrayal of him. I tensed when I felt his hands touch my
wrists, though I resisted his pull my son slowly drew my hands from my
face, I hung my head down to avoid his look, but he put a hand under my
chin and raised my face until I was looking into his eyes. I had no
doubt my guilt, fear and anguish showed clearly in my eyes, nor did I
have any doubt that the revived hunger burning in me also shone in
them. With a sob I twisted my head from his hand, jumped to my feet and
fled from the room stopping only once I was safely in my room with the
door locked behind me. Sobbing in anguish I threw myself on my bed, at
any moment I expected to hear my son shouting through the door or
hammering on it demanding access, but the time passed and he thankfully
did not appear. For some time I lay weeping, lost in my misery until,
as had happened for so many nights, I cried myself to sleep.
When I awoke it was mid-morning, I felt exhausted from a nightmare
filled night, a night in which I repeated my betrayal over and over,
sometimes to Cherrie, but other times it was my son I said it to and
each time he would gasp and back away from me fearfully. In between the
nightmares I was haunted by what could only be described as 'wet'
dreams, dreams in which I was fucked in all ways, in which I was beaten
or even half choked to death. With all that it was no wonder that I was
more tired than when I had fallen asleep. Forcing myself out of bed I
dressed then sat on the side of the bed, I knew that sooner or later I
would need to leave the room, but I could not risk facing my son I had
to put off leaving my room until I had no choice. And suddenly I had no
choice.
"Mum," my son's voice sounded loudly from the other side of the bedroom
door, "get out here, and I mean right now!"
Though my mind cringed at the thought of having to face his disdain
after seeing how I had betrayed him, my body leapt to obey and
appalling the hell out of me in the process. When I opened the bedroom
door he was standing there, he looked tired and a fire seemed to be
burning in his eyes, though I had only glanced at them the once.
"Get downstairs, now" he commanded.
His tone left no room for argument and I rushed downstairs half afraid
of his mood, half afraid of having to face his questions about my
betraying words. In the living room he pointed me at the couch, without
a word I sat, my eyes dropping to look at the floor as he came to stand
in front of me.
"Look at me!" he barked out sharply.
With a start I raised my eyes to his face, though I still avoided
looking into his eyes.
"Look in my eyes!" he commanded taking hold of my chin, holding my face
so that I had no choice but to look into his eyes.
"Bob I..." I breathed.
"Just shut-up," he cut across my words, "I'll talk, and you listen.
Don't speak, don't look away from my eyes."
I nodded my understanding and obedience of his orders, looking into his
eyes I dreaded what I had been expecting to see there, his hatred and
revulsion for me, but as I gazed into his deep blue eyes what I saw
made me gasp!
"What do you see?" he demanded.
"It can't be!" I whispered in awe, "I see your love, your concern, your
worry, but most of all I see love. Bob I don't understand I swear I
saw, expected to see..."
"Be quiet!" he snapped, "You thought you saw what, revulsion, hatred,
disgust? Were those what you've been expecting to see in my eyes? Were
those what you saw at some point while we were Don's playthings? And I
say 'we', he was as much fucking with my mind as he was fucking your
mind and body!"
"But ... but ... but I saw those things in your yes!" I gasped, "I saw
your eyes burning with hatred when you called me a slut!"
"Did you really think I had fallen for those lies they had you tell?"
he sighed, "Surely I don't seem that stupid do I?"
"I don't understand!" I cried out with tears welling in my eyes.
"I guess you were too upset to notice where my eyes were facing when I
spoke as I did." He sighed again.
"But I swear you believed what I was told to say!" I gaped at him.
"Yeah right," he snorted, "like I'm not going t notice Cherrie feeding
your lines into your ear, or Don giving you your lines silently from
behind my back!"
"But you can't have seen or heard them!" I gasped.
"No?" he grinned, "Well I admit I didn't hear Cherrie, but surely you
remember me learning to lip read as part of Deafness Awareness Month
last year?"
"You read her lips???" I breathed in surprise.
"Not all of it," he smiled for the first time in what seemed like an
eternity, "but enough to know what the hell was going on and why you
were saying the things you were."
"And Don?" I asked, "There's no way you could have lip read him, he was
always behind you when he would mouth what I had to tell you."
"Normally I would agree with you," Bob, "but for all his cunning and
smarts he never learnt not to stand opposite reflective surfaces. The
windows were so filthy outside they were almost like mirrors inside, I
saw more than enough of his reflected actions to get the gist of what
was going on. Overhearing a couple of the others talking later in
events only confirmed what I already knew. I also knew that if I didn't
act the way they expected either you or I or both of us would not leave
that gym alive!"
"Oh God," I gasped out, "no wonder you made sure I wasn't choking when
it came to your turn to fuck me while that rope was fixed on the
collar! Oh God, you were trying to ease my suffering and that only
makes what I did all the worse!"
"What you did?" he asked raising an eyebrow.
"Oh Bob you saw it on that tape," I wept, "you heard the words from my
own mouth and you were already gone and safe! You were their hold over
me and even after you had gone I obeyed them!"
For a moment the room was silent except for my sobbing, I was elated
that my son hadn't hated me or reviled me, but I was leaden with guilt
at what I had done all the same. Suddenly Bob was sitting by my side,
an arm wrapped around my shoulders, holding me, comforting me and I
felt sickened by the sudden surge of lust that rose in me from his
touch.
"How much of that muck did they give you?" he asked quietly as he
stroked my hair.
"God knows," I sighed, "according to Don more than enough to 'fuck me
up' for the rest of my life, and that was without the last huge dose
Cherrie gave me just before she had me ask you to leave."
"Well the bitch won't get the chance to do that to anyone else." I
heard him mutter coldly, then continue in a warmer voice, "Mum,
overhearing bits of conversation here and there I figured that stuff
takes you over, makes you do things, want to do things you would be
repulsed by otherwise. I know it wasn't the real you that spoke those
words."
"I wish I could be so sure." I sobbed leaning into his shoulder, "Bob I
found myself genuinely enjoying much of what happened even while I felt
disgusted at myself for doing so."
"Well," Bob laughed squeezing my shoulder; "I guess we all surprise
ourselves when we experiment, though I guess it might have been a
better voyage of discovery under other circumstances."
"Bob," I sighed as a shiver of impending climax spread through me just
from his holding me, "there's more and it's worse. You saw the brand
they put on me?
"I saw it." He growled.
"It denotes what they have made me," I felt my tears flowing again.
I explained about the permanent side effect of the drugs, how even now
that same hunger was starting to drive me to want to do anything to be
fulfilled sexually.
"Right now," I admitted in a low voice, "your comforting touch is
driving me nuts with lust, any minute now I'll climax then it will get
even worse."
"That doesn't make you a slut!" he protested.
"No, not yet, but sooner or later I am going to do as Don said I would,
seek someone, anyone to fuck me, even if I have to turn whore to do
so!" I sobbed in misery.
Bob fell silent and I thought for a moment that I had shocked him
speechless.
"And what," he suddenly asked in a whisper, "if you found a person to
keep your needs fulfilled?"
"Oh Bob," I wept, "that would be a pipe dream, what man would have me
long term now? What man would accept the perversions I have been taught
to enjoy? What man would accept a branded woman?"
"I can think of one," he said giving me a hug that sent a climax
washing over me, "I have an admission to make mum. There's one part of
all this that I do not regret at all.
"Bob?" I said in confusion.
"That I got to have sex with you." he almost whispered, "It was a dream
come true, though I would have preferred it to be in a more romantic
way."
In surprise I leant away from him, he was looking into my eyes so that
I could see the truth of his feelings, but his face was flushing bright
red. I could not believe I had heard him correctly, but it seemed that
he meant every word. Then it was my turn to blush as I remember the
sheer size of his cock, the way it had filled me so deliciously, had
given me more satisfaction than all 16 youths put together and Cherrie
only matched him because her cock was fake and I was drugged to the
eyeballs! As I looked into his eyes I saw something else rising in them
and gasped in surprise and excitement!
"You still want me?" I breathed.
"More than ever mum." he smiled, "I love you as my mother, I love even
more now that I have seen how much you love me, seen what lengths you
would go to to protect me! And I love you as a woman, a beautiful
woman. If you'd let me I'd like to try to help you keep this hunger, as
you call it, under control."
"Bob," I whispered, "Could you cope with the perverted things I will no
doubt ask you to do to me? Could you still love me then?"
"Perverted things?" he mused, "Like tying you up? Like beating you?
Like fucking you so hard you faint?"
"Yes," I sighed sorrowfully, "and worse, like treating me like shit,
like a slut slave?"
"Oh shit!" he groaned, "You would want that? Truly?"
"I think so." I replied lowering my head in shame at his expression of
shock.
"Mum," he suddenly laughed, then said firmly, "your collar is in your
room, go put it on, strip off everything else except stockings and
heels, then get back her and assume the position ... bitch!"
Even before he had finished speaking I was groaning in climax, as soon
as I felt that my legs would support me I rushed to my room. With eager
fingers I threw off my clothes, put the collar tightly around my neck,
put on stocking and the six-inch heels and as I rushed back to my son I
felt another climax wash over me. When I got back to the living room I
found my son sitting naked on the couch, his enormous prick reaching
towards his chest in erection. Without hesitation I approached the
couch and dropped to my knees in front of him.
It was as I sank to my knees that I remembered the videos the police
were studying even now, and then I froze.
"The videos!" I gasped out, "You have the videos!"
"All the ones of you." He smiled, "The rest didn't concern me!"
"But how did ... Oh God!" I paled at the sudden realisation that my son
had done what I had been unable to do though I had longed to for
revenge.
"Yes," he sighed sadly, "it was me, I got the tapes first, that was all
I went for at first, but when I thought of all they had done to you I
knew I had to ... it was too easy ... I..."
"Oh my darling!" I hugged him to me. "Don't think about it anymore.
That bad part of our lives is over, it has changed us, but it has made
us stronger in some ways, let's put it behind us as best we can."
"And concentrate on our future pleasure?" he smiled softly.
"Yes, exactly." I smiled back.
"In which case," he smiled broadly, "would my 'slut' like to sit on
this?"
As I leapt onto his lap and his gorgeous cock I wondered how life would
be for us in the future. Moment's later thoughts of the future were
driven from my mind as my mind became consumed by passion, passion that
my own son was gleefully giving me!
The End ???
If you like this story, and want to read more about Bob and his mother please
read the sequel-A Mother's Gamble by King.
