I can truly say that I hated her then.  She had destroyed my life,
turned me into an empty shell.  She stopped treating me like her
son.  I wasn't a member of the family, I was her possession.  She
was the master and I was the slave.  And a good slave does what
the master tells him.  Or so she said.

I still couldn't stop her, couldn't keep her from attacking,
molesting, RAPING me.  I was far too weak, I realize that now.  If
I had been able to do something by that third or fourth time,
things would have been different.  But I couldn't.  She was my
mother, for better or worse, and I had to respect her.  That's how
I was raised.

I wasn't happy and she knew it.  But she didn't care either.
Happiness of the slave is secondary to the happiness of the
master.  Or so she said.  I hated her even more.

I hated her for a lot of reasons though.  It's hard to say why I
hated her most.  Hell, more than once she beat me like a dog then
ended up fucking me like one.  What's not to hate about that?  But
I have a hard time admitting the real reason I hated her...  Back
then I couldn't, now I barely can.  I'm in deep now, I've gone
along with it, but it's still an ugly truth...  The real reason is
that I liked it.

She made it pleasurable, physically, so much that...  How could I
ever have anyone else?  All my excuses sound weak and pitiful.  I
know they are, but they are the truth.  How could any other woman
take care of me like my mother?  Would any other woman do
everything she could to give me pleasure?  Not like my mother, I
bet.

Hers are some pretty big shoes to fill, after all.  I mean, my
mother was the only person I'd had sex with and actually had
orgasmed with.  A lot.  Could any street whore compare with her?
Not in my eyes.

That's why I really hated her.  I can't remember ever feeling more
guilty or ashamed than afterwards, when I'd just had everything a
man or boy could ever wish for done to me.  And it all felt so
good.  It wasn't heaven, not by a long shot.  If it was, I
wouldn't have felt like hell after it was over.  Oh, maybe for her
it was; she knew lots of tricks that required minimal
participation on my part.

I don't think anyone actually knows my mother except me.  And 
sometimes I'm not so sure I really know her anymore.  But she gets
anything she wants, no matter what she has to do to get it.  And
if she wanted me to take her from behind, then nothing I could say
or do could make me stop.  I don't know how, I couldn't control
myself, like she was pulling the strings on my hips, making me
fuck her.

That's not... entirely true.  I do know how.  Deep down inside, in
a place that I refused to recognize, I wanted to do it.  Simple as
that.  She'd say something like 'Ryu-chan, I want you to eat me
out tonight' and I'd whine and moan and cringe away from her.
Then she'd get that nasty look on her face and hit me.  Sometimes
it was only a slap or two, sometimes she used...  Well, I'm not
sure what it was.  I think it used to be my Dad's and it hurt like
hell.  One swat with that and I was down, begging her not to hit
me again.  Then she'd smile and pat my head like the good little
stud I was and tell me to get undressed.  All the time I was
taking my clothes off, I'd be apologizing over and over.  Like it
might carry over to next time and she wouldn't hit me.  And then
I'd do it, I'd eat her out like there was no tomorrow.

It was one of those times, just after she swatted me with that
thing, that it hit me.  I was taking my shirt off, saying 'I'm
sorry' again and again when I realized that...  Guess what?  I WAS
sorry.  I had always been such a problem.  I was never anything
but trouble and for 17 years, my Mom and Dad did everything for
me.  I had done nothing for them except leach off them.

I never had a job, I never did any chores, except when I was
punished, they gave me everything I asked for, took me on vacation
to other countries...  I remember the day like it was yesterday.
'I'm sorry for disobeying you, Mother,' I said.

I think it surprised her more than anything.  She was used to my
begging and pleading.  She knew how to handle a weak boy, too
enthralled by his mother to resist.  I don't think she ever
expected me to fuck her willingly.  Maybe she hoped I would, but
she couldn't have been too confident of it.

So when I said those words, then looked her straight in her eyes
and stopped taking off my clothes, she just stood there.  I had
actually done something she hadn't counted on.   I could write a
book and call it 'How to Catch Nabiki Tendo Off Guard' and make
billions.

She regained her hard look a moment later, trying to pretend it
hadn't affected her at all.  I resumed taking my clothes off, but
more slowly.  Not hesitantly, just a bit more teasingly.  Or at
least that was how I hoped it came out as.

I saw her try to hide her smile as I pulled off my t-shirt, just
like in the commercials and stuff.  I tensed my abs and my arms,
every one of my well toned but not overly developed muscles standing
out as I pulled the shirt over my head.  Shit, I barely left the
house and I still looked better than most of the guys I went to
school with.  Of course, they weren't having sex with my mother
four times a week.  I probably would have killed them if they
were.

I dropped my shirt to the floor and turned around.  I undid my
pants and started to push them down slowly.  I bent over a little
so she could get a good view of my tail end, something I knew she
liked.  I kept pushing my pants down, not allowing them to fall,
until I was nearly doubled over.  I pulled one foot out, then
tried to do the other, but the pant leg was caught on my heel.  I
stood on one leg, sort of flamingo style, and tried to pull the
pants the rest of the way off.

And then I felt her hand on my ass.  She was grabbing me hard,
almost knocking me over since I was on one foot.  'M... Mom,' I
said, trying to regain my balance.

Then her hand squirmed between my legs and was grabbing my package
from behind.  Her other arm was around my side, kind of holding my
stomach.  I think she tried to knock me down then, but I caught
myself.  The yank she gave my nuts made me wish I had gone down.


'Mom,' I said again.  The strangle hold she had on me was starting 
to hurt.

'Don't back out on me now, Ryu-chan.  You started this and now 
we're going to finish it.'  She thought I was trying to be a tease when 
I was just trying not to fall on my face.

'You're squeezing too hard, Mom,' I managed to say, almost ready 
to collapse.  She's got quite a grip when she's got a hold of something 
she wants.

She let go and stepped back.  She probably thought I was going to 
run and was setting up to cut me off.  I stood up slowly, making sure 
she didn't damage any important parts and steadied my breathing.  I 
could still feel that vice-like grip on my nads, so I adjusted myself 
and turned around.

I looked behind me when she didn't say anything.  Maybe there was 
someone behind me that she saw.  No...  She was just staring at me, but 
not in any way that I recognized.  'Mom?  What's wrong?'

She stepped up to me and grabbed my crotch.  It startled me a 
little, but that was all.  I think she expected me to run away, 
screaming, but I surprised her when I didn't.  She gave me a firm 
squeeze, just below the pain threshold.  It made me a little nervous, I 
like my genitals the way they are, but I smiled at her anyway.

I pulled her hand away from my privates and held it in mine.  I 
stepped back against the bed.  I still felt a little funny.  I mean, 
not more than 10 minutes ago she had been hitting me.  But I know 
that's one reason I liked it all.  The pain-pleasure transition.  That 
is a real thin line...

'Please, Mom,' I said.  Please what?  I wasn't sure, but all of a 
sudden I wanted to my mother naked.  Please what?  Please get naked so 
we can fuck.

I let her hand go and took off my shorts.  I figured if I showed 
her my goodies, she'd show me hers.  But she refused to follow my lead.  
She was just looking at me all funny.  I wanted her to look at me like 
she used to, like when she knew she had me.

She put one finger on my chest and pushed gently.  Was she trying 
to test me?  She wanted to see how far I would go?  What difference did 
it make though?  If I refused her advances, if I was teasing, she would 
just have me anyway.  So I let her little push knock me back on the 
bed.

God, it was comfortable.  I think it was a down mattress, it was 
so soft and inviting.  I let my arms flop.  I know she liked me in that 
spread eagle position, I must have looked like the main course, sunk 
into those covers the way I was.

She stepped up to the end of the bed and stood between my legs.  
She started running her hand up and down my thigh, like she wasn't 
really sure if she wanted me anymore.  I just couldn't bring myself to 
get angry then.

So I did the only thing I knew how...  I apologized.  I think the 
words 'I'm sorry' coming out of my mouth were a turn on for her.  And 
they worked that time.  She didn't say anything, the look on her face 
never changed, but she started to undo her shirt.

I was getting impatient though.  She was all set to rape me 
before, but when I was willing she didn't want me.  I guess it killed 
her thrill.  'Come on, Mom.'  I was ready to start begging, I was ready 
to fuck.  'Don't you want me?'  That had to do it.  I was offering her 
something she wanted; she couldn't refuse.

Then she asked me something I couldn't believe.  'What happened to 
you?'  Like my dick just fell off or something.

I couldn't help but be irritated.  It showed, too, when I whined.  
'Mom...'  You know that tone, when your mother tries to wash your face 
with spit on a napkin.  I wanted her and she didn't want me.  She shut 
me up with one look.  Damn, I felt like I was 10 years old again.

She glared at me with her shirt open.  I couldn't stop staring at 
her breasts hidden behind that lacey little bra of hers.  She asked me 
again, 'What happened to you?'

'For fuck's sake, Mom...  Don't you want me?'  I pulled myself 
back on that all as hell comforter until my head was on the pillows.  
'Why don't you want me?'  I was getting hurt, angry and confused.

'This isn't you.  You're not like this.'

I was so mad when she said that.  I sat up and actually managed to 
stand.  I started to scream; I would make her understand even if I 
didn't.  'Nothing!  There's nothing wrong with me!  I'm giving myself 
to you!'  I walked across the bed and stood towering over her.  I 
grabbed the collar of her shirt.  'Mom,' my voice came out all quiet.  
I sank to my knees, her eyes following me.

'Mom,' I said again, still holding her shirt.  'Why can't you 
understand?'  I let go of her shirt, feeling all funny inside.  I 
looked back down her chest, the gentle valley there.

'Because you...'  I smiled a little when she stopped talking, when 
my finger got in her bra.  My other hand was on her side, on her 
smooth, hot skin...  'I thought you didn't like this.'

My finger popped the little clasp in the front, and slipped the 
stubborn little hooks apart.  'But I do.'  I just never had the balls 
to admit it.  I started to push her shirt off but she grabbed my 
wrists.  I thought she might get bitchy with me again, in which case I 
would have had my way with her, but she went ahead and kissed me.

I think that was when she realized I was serious.  At first she 
just kind of brushed her lips against mine, kind of teasing like.  She 
held my sides and kissed me again, several light but sensual touches.  
I got my hands on her shoulders and pulled her to me.  I captured her 
mouth with mine and sucked hard.  I stuck my tongue in her mouth the 
way I always wanted and sucked on hers.

Mom pushed me away though.  She pushed on my chest again, so I 
submitted and fell back on the bed, just like before.  Submit to my 
mother...  It was something I knew how to do real well.  And then she 
started to take off her clothes, for real.  She still had that funny 
look on her face; she didn't understand yet, neither did I.

So there was my mom, standing naked in front of me.  I took the 
opportunity and really looked at her, leered at her.  I know she liked 
it too.  She always liked it when she caught me looking at her or 
really starting to enjoy myself because of how much I complained, and 
how much I fought her.

I think I'm too much like her for my own good.  I used to just go 
ahead and take what I wanted, no second thoughts.  I'm still stubborn 
as a mule and I like arguing with people, especially when I know I can 
win.  I think that's why Mom and I... mesh so well.  With Dad gone, she 
needed someone to challenge her, someone she could fight with, 
unstoppable force versus immovable object.

I was that immovable object, but I was nothing to my mother, the 
unstoppable force.  Not that I'd ever want her to stop...  She moved so 
well.