"I don't want to do this, but I need to," she continues, as if it's such a hardship for her to punish me. She purses her lips, looking me up and down.
"Your punishment will be tonotmove and be silent." I frown at the odd punishment, but don't say anything. To me, it sounds rather easy.
She takes me to her room and to her walk-in closet. Opening the door, she thrusts me inside, telling me,
"Hands on your knees, eyes forward, and don't you dare move or make a sound." I comply, folding my legs under me and placing my palms on my knees.
Mother gives me a smirk of approval before pushing the door closed behind her. She doesn't close it all the way, and there's a small gap that allows perfect visibility into the room.
I wonder how long I'm supposed to sit here. Usually her punishments are corporal. This is the first time she's made me do something like this.
I hear the door to the room open, and I see Father come in.He sighs deeply and starts taking off his clothes. My mother is quick to offer him a shoulder massage, and as my father sits down on the bed, she starts kneading his flesh.
I don't think I'm supposed to see this.
But the scene quickly changes as Mother crawls on her knees in front of Father and puts her mouth on his penis.
My first instinct is to look away, but then I remember her words.
Eyes forward.
Dreading another beating, I continue watching.
Soon Mother is on her hands and knees, and Father is pumping into her from behind, his breaths uneven as he grunts curses. Mother's eyes are focused on me the whole time. Loud moans escape her mouth as she urges Father to go faster, harder. The sound of a slap against Mother's flesh makes me flinch, but she keeps on staring at me, her hand between her legs.
"I'm coming! Harder!" she yells, her body trembling all over. Still, her gaze does not waver from me.
This continues for the next hour. No matter what Father does to her, her eyes do not stray from me.
She's making sure I'm not looking away.
When it's finally over and Father leaves the room, Mother comes to me, still naked, and opens the door.
"Good boy." She stoops down on her knees in front of me, her breasts hanging low and swinging into my face. She leans into me to kiss my face, her lips grazing my mouth.
"Now you can go play," she says, ushering me out of the room. It hurts when I get up, with my feet almost paralyzed from sitting in the same position for too long. But I'm just too happy to be out of there, so I limp out.
It's late at night when the first visit happens. I'm in my bed, sleeping, when I'm startled by the rustling of sheets, the beddipping low to accommodate another person. I keep my eyes closed, convinced it's a dream.
There's no such thing as monsters, right? I'm too old to believe in that.
Keeping myself still, I feel a breath on my cheek as a hand starts trailing down my arm. I crack one eye open, and even in the shadows of the night, I can recognize my mother's profile. She looks enthralled as she caresses my skin. Her fingers settle on my hand and she tugs it softly toward her.
She molds her fingers to mine, her palm resting on top of my hand as she reaches toward her leg. She drags my hand high up her thigh, pressing my fingers into her flesh. I feel wetness coating the tips of my fingers, and she continues to use my hand, moving it in circles and getting it even wetter.
Her breathing catches in her throat as the movements gain speed.
I try not to recoil in disgust, especially when she takes my whole hand and sticks it in a tight opening. Hot walls surround my skin, and she moves it in and out of her body.
I'm silent, willing myself to disregard what's happening, hoping it's all a bad dream.
It all stops only when she releases a semi-loud gasp, and I feel like my fingers are being swallowed whole by something.
"Good boy." She comes closer to my face, her mouth close to my ear. "Soon" is all she says before she's gone.
Sometime later, I open my eyes to find myself alone in the room. There's no evidence of her ever being there, except for a strong odor coming from my fingers.
I feel physically sick, and even in my young mind, I know this is wrong.
