Big Changes At Home Ch. 02

Chapter Two: The Morning After

The alarm clock screamed at five-thirty that next morning, Taryn groaned as she smacked the annoying device into silence. She laid there for a moment, staring at the clock, trying to decide whether or not to get up. With a mutter of protest she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. As she snuggled in for some more, precious sleep, a thought hit her: Master wouldn't be pleased with her if she didn't bring him breakfast. That thought caused her eyes to shoot open; Master, how could she forget about him. A sigh of regret escaped her lips as she looked up at the clock once more, and tried to remember just how the hell she had gained a Master. Then the events of the previous night rolled through her mind like a scary movie she couldn't turn away from. She remembered: the dancing, the dry-fuck, the bathroom, the submission . . . her submission . . . her complete and total submission to him. She had submitted herself to her son and swore to be his Slave. A sigh of contentment left her lungs when she thought that thought: her son was her Master, and she was his Slave. She pulled back the covers and knew that she had to get moving, in order to get ready for him.

Taryn took extra care as she showered and washed herself that morning. For the first time in a long while she took pride in how she looked. She had always made sure to keep herself presentable, but it was the little things that she had let slide. It had been a while since she had shaved her legs, years since she had paid any attention to her pubic hair. It was normal for Taryn to not shave for a week or so.

What did it matter? Nobody looked at her that closely anymore, certainly not her husband. Richard was far too busy with work to spend any serious time with his wife, when he was home he was too tired to have sex most nights. Even when they did have sex it was hurried and unimaginative: purely for his pleasure. Taryn couldn't remember the last time Richard had ate her out, or sucked on her breasts. It was no wonder why Taryn let her pubic hair grow wild, all that would stop that morning. Taryn took great care in shaving everywhere that a woman should shave. She cleaned and preened herself after the shower was over, trimming up her bush so that the "wild wilderness" was gone. The shower took longer than she had expected, but felt the time was well-needed, as she wanted to be presentable for her Master.

There was that word again that stirred up feelings of bliss and fear in her. Part of her loved having a Master, and she was happier than she had been in years because of it; she felt complete. Another part of her was scared of this development and wanted to find a way out of it, writing the whole experience off as a bad night of drinking. Taryn knew it was not the alcohol that made her do what she did last night. That was the most sobering thought, for this morning she was not drunk and yet here she was throwing on her sheerest robe in order to cook breakfast for her son . . . her Master.

All through cooking breakfast she checked the note and the clock regularly. She wanted to everything to be perfect for him; she wanted to show her Master that she was a good Slave. The argument of "what the hell was she doing?" continued in her mind, regardless of what she did to do to push it out. With no time to spare, at six-twenty-nine, she picked up the tray and walked up to her son's bedroom.

Owen woke up with a yawn and looked around the darkened room. He felt a little tired and sore that morning, and contemplated going out for a run, but decided against it. Glancing out at the window and seeing the rain that poured outside confirmed it, he would visit the gym instead. Slumping back down on the bed he rubbed his eyes and tried to shake the feeling that something was different this morning. He looked around the room and wondered what it was; nothing was different. He could see no new boxes to show any extravagant purchases, that one might regret the next day. He hadn't done any shopping yesterday, all that he had done yesterday was go to school, study and go out with his mother.

His mind froze as that last thought crossed his mind: his mother. What had he done to his mother? Why did he do it? How could he do it? He had completely dominated her and made her swear to be his Slave for life . . . but why? Sure, he had loved the whole experience and felt more alive and turned on than he had been in his whole life. The power and pure excitement that coursed through him during that experience was unbelievable, and yet natural. The strange thing was that everything seemed to be second-nature to him. Nothing seemed stilted, awkward or strange to him, and that what scared him the most. He could grow to like it, he already loved that feeling of power he had when he ordered his mother around and she complied. It was a double hit of excitement, one jolt of excitement when he ordered her, the next when she complied. The sooner and more diligently she complied, the greater the thrill. Was this what he really wanted? Until last night he had never thought of his mother in a sexual way. He had never harbored deep, lustful feelings for her, but last night he not only fucked her, he made her his Slave.

Was this really the way that he wanted to live? Did he really want to spend the rest of his life barking orders at his mother? What about other women, what about a girlfriend or wife? Did this mean that he wanted them to be his Slaves to? The man he was last night was not the man that he thought he was, or wanted to be. He sighed once more and rested his head back on his pillow to try to sort it all out.

Perhaps he was getting worked up for nothing, perhaps his mother didn't remember the previous night. After all, they had been drinking, perhaps she would just see the whole evening as a drunken game. Owen would see how his mother would react and follow her lead. He wouldn't apologize right away; he would wait until she talked to him about it. They could share a laugh over the silly and dangerous game they had played and see it as nothing more than the alcohol.

Owen looked at the clock: six-twenty-nine. A fuzzy thought hit his mind: Six-thirty, something was supposed to happen at six-thirty, and he wondered what appointment he had missed. Was there an early morning class that he had forgotten about? He searched his mind to figure out what he was supposed to do that morning, damn, he would have to skip breakfast.

Breakfast! there it was, he had ordered his mother to deliver him breakfast at Six-thirty this morning. He had given her very specific instructions on what he wanted and how he wanted it delivered. Panic settled in as he thought of what he would do if she actually did bring him breakfast in bed just like he told her to. What would that mean? Would that mean that she liked this new arrangement and wanted to be his Slave? He glanced at the clock and saw it turn to six-thirty and watched it intently, hoping it would turn to six-thirty-one. If he could skip over this minute it would be okay, then he would know that she wasn't coming and . . .

Then the door opened up slowly and his mother backed into the room, pushing the door open. She was carrying a tray of breakfast and from where he lay he could see that she had indeed carried out his instructions to the letter. Owen glanced at the clock and saw that it was still six-thirty; she was even on time. One glance at his mother standing there, closing the door with her foot, holding the tray of breakfast, left him speechless. Her red hair fell down her back in its naturally body-wave. She was wearing makeup for the first time in a long time, and her face looked quite pretty. She was wearing a white, silk robe that floated away from her body and it was his guess that she was naked under that robe.

Taryn smiled at him with a look of fear and apprehension in her eyes, waiting for Owen to say something. Owen looked at her and at once he was turned on, and the dark feelings of power returned. It wasn't just the way she looked; it was the whole package. He had given her an order and she had carried it out, she had even put in a few extra touches here and there. She had prettied herself up for him, just to bring him breakfast. The morning paper was on the tray beside the breakfast and a flower was in a vase in the center of the tray. Owen's cock was hard and throbbing as he drank all this in, Taryn was the first to speak.

"Good morning, Master. I brought you breakfast, like you ordered," Taryn said with a timid and apprehensive manner.

Her son hadn't said a thing and as the seconds ticked by, Taryn felt like a monumental fool. Obviously she was wrong in doing this! He didn't expect her to be standing there with breakfast, dressed only in a robe! She waned to cry and run out of the room, she was mortified that she had read things wrong: it was only a one night game. He didn't want her there, he didn't see her as his Slave.

"Excellent work, Slave," Owen said and smiled at Taryn, in response she let out a sigh of relief. "Bring me breakfast, Slave," he said, and watched his mother immediately move towards him.

Just looking at her carrying that tray of breakfast towards him caused his cock to twitch. Man he was hard and needed to take care of it soon, he thought as Taryn floated over towards him. Then a nasty thought hit him as he smiled up at her.

"Put breakfast down over there," Owen said as he pointed at his dresser.

"Yes, Master," Taryn said, just before she did exactly as she was ordered.

"You've got me so hard this morning, I think you should take care of it first," Owen said with a lewd smile as he pulled back the covers, revealing his nude form. "Come over here and suck your Master's cock, Slave," He said, looking deep into Taryn's eyes as he said it.

Taryn's knees got weak when he said that last statement. She loved being called his Slave, and loved the fact that that she could make him hard. She never answered him with anything other than a lustful growl as she rushed to him. Her eyes never left staring intently at his thick cock as she rushed to embrace it. As soon as was physically possible she desired to take it in her mouth, she needed to suck her Master's cock.

Bliss filled her as his cock filled her mouth. All was right with the world, for she had her Master's cock in her mouth and was endeavoring to please him. The only pleasure she would receive from this was the satisfaction of a job well done. This act was for him and him alone; yet another way for her to show her love and devotion to him. This morning, for the first time ever, she voluntarily took a cock down her throat. She relaxed her throat and pushed it down her throat, immensely pleased that she could do this on her own. This development was not lost on Owen, he knew she needed praise.

"Oh you are a good Slave!" Owen said as he stroked Taryn's hair lovingly as she continued to deep-throat him. "Yes, swallow all of me," he said as he smiled at her.

Taryn looked up into his eyes and gave him a look of love as she increased her sucking efforts on his cock. Steadily and quickly she bobbed her head up and down on his cock. His cock now slid easily down her throat and she loved the feeling of pubic hairs on her nose, to her it felt like victory. For Taryn it meant that she had once more swallowed all of her Master's cock, his pleasure meant everything to her.

Taryn didn't let up her sucking until Owen came down her throat. This time she made sure to keep his cock lodged down her throat and swallowed continually. Owen let out a loud groan that lasted as long as he came. Eventually, he was spent and Taryn let his cock slip past her lips as she sat back upright.

"That was wonderful Slave, now feed me breakfast," Owen said with a grateful smile.

"Yes, Master," Taryn said as she hopped up and fetched the tray of breakfast that she had prepared for him.

For the next while nothing was said as Taryn fed Owen his breakfast. She would gather up a bit of everything on his plate and lift the fork to his mouth. When he wanted to drink, she would raise that to his lips, if he dribbled she would wipe his chin. She was taking care of him and it was a quiet, tender moment between Master and Slave that had nothing to do with sex. As silly as it was, she was happy to do it, she was happy to serve him, to be his Slave.

As she fed her Master she wondered why he did what he did. What had prompted him to take her as his Slave? What did he see in her that made him know that she was submissive? How did he know that she would be his, that she would be happy like this? She needed to know, she had to ask.

"Can we talk?" Taryn asked in a meek tone of voice.

"Sure, Slave," Owen said, as he swallowed another bite of breakfast.

"No, just talk . . . as Owen and Taryn," Taryn said as she brought another forkful of breakfast to his lips.

"Sure, mom, what's on your mind?" Owen asked in a plain tone of voice, after swallowing his mouthful.

"Why did you do it?" Taryn asked with a hint of a pained expression as she looked deep into his eyes.

"Do what?" Owen asked, wanting to know exactly what part of last night she was talking about.

"Last night. Why did you do it? How did you know I would react favorably to you?" Taryn asked, with a hurt and slightly miffed expression.

"I guess it all started when you said that you liked it when a man takes what he wants." Owen said with a sigh as he gave his mother a thoughtful expression.

"But I only said that because you made me slow-dance with you when I didn't want to. What made you do that? What made you pull me to you?" Taryn asked curiously as she gathered up more breakfast for Owen.

"I don't know, I guess it was the frustration of seeing all the other happy couples dancing and I wanted a moment where I had a special lady in my arms, just for one song." Owen said with a softened tone of voice as he looked at his mother for understanding.

"So you didn't plan it? You didn't somehow know that I . . . that I . . . wanted it?" Taryn said and strangely enough, when she was talking to him like this she couldn't say the words "Master or Slave."

"No. All I can tell you is that everytime I got you to do something I wanted you to do; something I knew you didn't want to do, I got a thrill out of it. I guess it was that thrill that kept pushing me onward." Owen said in the same subdued tone of voice.

"I guess I can understand that. It sounds like the same thrill I got when you made me do what I didn't want to do. Each time you took charge and d . . . made me do something; I got a thrill out of doing it. As time went on it seemed to be more natural. I guess I was seeking the same thrill." Taryn said as she looked up at her son and smiled at him an understanding smile, they understood each other.

"What about now? Do you want to continue this or drop it?" Owen said, with a serious look on his face. "If you're not happy like this, I won't make you stay my Slave," he said and looked at her for a moment before looking down.

"I don't think we can go back to the way things were, do you? I . . . I like the way things are between us now, I know it may sound weird for a mother to say to her son but I like serving you." Taryn said with a loving tone of voice as she picked up Owen's chin and looked deep into his eyes. "I never told you this but before I met your father I went for the 'jerk' type. You know, the kind of men who treated me like crap, the ones who would walk all over me, I didn't know why I liked it, until last night. When you told me that I needed a Master, everything clicked, it was then that I knew you were right. How did you know?" Taryn asked with a look of wonder on her face.

"I don't know how exactly, but everything that had happened up until then told me that you liked what we were doing. Somehow I knew that this was what you wanted," Owen said in a calm tone of voice, searching his mother's eyes for understanding. "So you really like things like this? You like being my Slave?" Owen asked with an excited tone of voice, anticipating the answer.

"Yes, Master," Taryn replied in a meek tone of voice looking down but her eyes looking up into his, conveying her love for him.

"Cool, Slave!" Owen said with an excited tone of voice.

"But what do we do from here? How are we going to keep this a secret? What about Rosina and your father? What about your friends? Do you really want me to follow you around on campus, carrying your books and so forth? You have a life, I have a life. What about them?" Taryn asked in a most worried tone of voice, almost fearful for being so bold around her Master.

"I admit that having you follow me around campus would be fun . . ." Owen said with a glint in his eye that his mother caught.

"Once in a while . . . perhaps," Taryn replied with the same sparkle in her eye and the pair shared a laugh.

"I guess you're right when you said that we both have lives that we need to live. I have school and you have . . . whatever you do during the day." Owen said, and for a moment he felt embarrassed for not knowing his mother better. "We will keep this a secret for as long as we can, and deal with things as they come," Owen said confidently and smiled at Taryn as he took a bite of his bagel.

"I hope nobody finds out about this, I mean I do love serving you, but I just don't know how I would explain to anyone about our relationship. Can you imagine trying to explain this to your sister . . . or your father?" Taryn said with an incredulous look on her face that masked her fear.

"I know it will be difficult, but I don't think we have any other alternative. I mean, I don't want this to end, and I don't think you want it to end either," Owen said with a calm tone as he took his mother's hand in his.

"No, I don't." Taryn said with a loving look as she looked deep into her son's eyes. "I should be incensed with you for all that we've done since last night . . . but I'm not. I feel happier than I have been in a long time. I guess you were right when you said that I needed a Master, but not just any Master . . . I need you. I know you love me and would never hurt me; I can trust you implicitly. You're my son so I would do anything for you, naturally, but as a mother I would only go so far. I mean mothers don't have sex with their children, but I don't feel awkward or strange when I have sex with you. I can't explain it better than it was meant to be; I was meant to be your Slave. I Taryn Thompson was meant to be the Slave of you Owen Thompson, my son, my Master, my greatest love," Taryn said in a soft and loving tone of voice. By the end of it she had tears in her eyes, tears of love, of joy, of relief. "I love you Master," Taryn said and looked longingly into the eyes of her Master, waiting for a response.

"And I love you Taryn, Thompson, my mother, my Slave, my greatest love," Owen said in an equally moving manner.

The moment possessed him and Owen moved in and kissed Taryn on the lips. It was a tentative and unsure kiss that lasted but a moment. When the kiss was over they both looked at each other, eyes searching the other for how they felt. Only lust and love was found, so eagerly they kissed again, this time it was a passionate and kiss that may have led to more. The clinking the breakfast dishes on the tray between them brought them back to reality. Taryn had only just sat back and scooped up more breakfast when another voice broke the silence of the quiet morning.

"Owen, you lazy bag of bones, you up yet?" Rosina shouted out, from down the hall.

Footsteps could be heard and Taryn and Owen knew that Rosina would be there in a moment. In a flash Taryn leaned over and kissed Owen once more with a passionate kiss that lasted until the door started to open. As soon as the door opened up Taryn shoved a forkful of food into Owen's mouth. Owen nearly choked on the mouthful of food.