Joseph and His Mother

Story Info
Dr. Lowenstein continues her family therapy.
17.6k words
4.73
251.1k
154
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

This is a story within the incest section. Therefore, if you don't like stories concerning incestuous relationships you really, really, really should not waste your time reading this one. It's also a sequel to "Dr. Lowenstein and her nephew." It will help considerably to have read that story first as the premise and foundation for the current study are provided by the earlier one. The story also includes a bit of reluctance, humiliation, and spanking. All of the characters in this story are at least nineteen years old.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dr. Lowenstein was very pleased with the initial family therapy session with Joseph and his mother, Deborah (who is also her sister; see "Dr. Lowenstein and her nephew"). It had indeed been an excellent psychodrama that would contribute much to helping Joseph overcome his infantilization complex and develop more comfort as an assertive, self-confident male.

Joseph's mother though had been and continued to be understandably ambivalent about the therapeutic approach. She confessed, at least to herself, that she had enjoyed having sex once again after at least nineteen years (Joseph's age). It had indeed been a very, very long time. But, still, she remained rather troubled about the fact that the sex had been with her son. Her sleep that night had been as restless as the sex had been pleasurable. She had gotten swept away by the natural reactions of her body, and once the primitive impulses and desires had been quenched, her more rational mind and moral character were able to assert themselves and dominate her thinking once again, and so she was quite troubled over what had happened.

Dr. Lowenstein allowed her sister and nephew to take a day off from therapy, not wanting to move too quickly. It is important in psychotherapy to proceed at a pace with which the patient is most comfortable, and certainly this form of familial psychodrama can be quite stressful and taxing on some family members. She also met individually with Joseph and Deborah to process the events of the previous evening, to assess in some depth whether the benefits of this approach were outweighing any potential complications. In her session with Deborah she reassured her sister of the rightness and propriety of this therapeutic approach.

Deborah admitted that she did see an immediate improvement in Joseph. That very evening and throughout the next day he appeared to stride with a new sense of self-confidence, perhaps even pride, yet remaining as well dutifully respectful. She was duly impressed at how effective the therapeutic session had been.

Dr. Lowenstein though did want to conduct further sessions. She would not be visiting her sister and nephew for much longer, having scheduled only one full week for this therapeutic visit. It was important to conduct additional sessions before she departed so that the improvement and progress Joseph had made to date would not be lost. Recidivism was always a problem with sexual disorders, and the more treatment that could be applied within the week of her visit the better were the chances for an ultimate full recovery.

She explained to her sister and Joseph the afternoon of the following day, "Once I leave, the sessions with Joseph should end. In the absence of the supervision of a professional psychologist it would no longer constitute a therapeutic exercise, and I must sternly warn you against continuing such psychodrama on your own. It is a very potent, potentially volatile form of treatment that can result in dire consequences if not carefully titrated and adequately monitored."

Deborah would not disagree with that, and she was very relieved to hear that it would end upon her sister Susan's departure. She could not imagine the distress she would feel if Joseph continued to expect her to have sex with him.

Dr. Lowenstein further explained, "Plus, Joseph must learn to generalize his behavior to women outside of the family. When I leave it will be time for you, Joseph, to leave the nest and find your own mate, someone closer to your own age, who might in fact be the future mother of your own children."

Joseph nodded. Like any other normal boy it would be difficult to give up having sex with his mother but all good things must come to an end.

"However, in the meantime, Joseph and Deborah," Dr. Lowenstein instructed, "I do have a few additional familial psychodrama exercises I want the two of you to perform."

Deborah took a deep sigh of resignation, and apprehension. The other day's psychodrama had been at times so difficult. She wondered what else would be expected of her. She glanced to her left, noticing that this time the bay window drapes were left open. At least this time there was apparently no need for privacy, so perhaps the worst of it was in fact over.

"Deborah," the doctor asked, turning to her sister, "Did you often dress Joseph when he was a boy?"

"Well, yes, yes, of course," she replied, feeling that she really shouldn't feel at all defensive about that. All mothers dress their young boys.

"Yes, certainly, that's only natural, and did you continue to monitor your son's manner of dress later in his childhood?"

Deborah gave it some thought and said cautiously, "Well, yes, I s'pose I did." All mothers do that as well.

"For how long?"

Deborah didn't reply.

Joseph answered for her. "Heck, she sometimes governs what I'm wearing even to this day, as if I can't make that decision for myself."

"Yes, yes, I'm not surprised. It's all part of the infantilization complex. To help combat this component, the next exercise will reverse these roles. Joseph, I want you to take your mother to her bedroom and pick out for her what you would like her to wear today."

"What?" They both replied simultaneously.

Dr. Lowenstein smiled. The surprised reactions of her patients never ceased to amaze her. They really should have modern psychology be required reading in high schools so that everyone can become more familiar with its tenets and techniques. "I'm sure it sounds a bit unusual, but this is why it is so effective. Now, why don't you both try to make the best of it. Have it be fun rather than therapy! And," she added, speaking directly to Joseph, her voice more serious in tone, "Don't hold back, Joseph. The decisions you make may be the most important ones of your life." That was overstating it, but she did want Joseph not to be timid. The more assertive he was, the greater benefit he would derive.

Joseph nodded. The most important decision in your life? That was quite a responsibility. He seriously doubted that picking out an outfit for his mother would be that momentous of a decision, but therapists are very insightful persons when it came to the potential importance of various life decisions. He would make sure that he did not hold back.

"Well, alright, Joseph," his mother intoned, with obvious reluctance in her voice, "shall we proceed to my bedroom?" She turned and headed off, feeling that this whole thing was a bit silly, and rather awkward. Just the thought of Joseph, her son, accompanying her to her bedroom felt out of place. But, of course, that was the whole point of a therapeutic role reversal.

As Joseph began to follow her Dr. Lowenstein stepped up and reached out to stop him. "Joseph," she said quietly but looking very intently and deep into his eyes, "she is already reasserting her authority. You need to make it real, real clear that you are the man and she is to serve you." She squeezed his arm as she asked, "Do you understand?"

"Um, yes, yes ma'am, I think I do."

"I hope so," she replied, and let go of her nephew's arm.

Joseph hurried down the hall to catch up to his mother, who apparently wasn't going to wait for him, all the while wondering what precisely he should have his mother wear, his eyes naturally focusing on the swaying of her bottom beneath the loose, long summer dress she had put on that morning. It was quite pretty and flattering, but he knew he had to suggest; no, he had to require, something different, something much more appealing, to him.

When they arrived in her bedroom his mother opened the door to the closet containing her dresses.

It was also rather awkward, if not downright weird, for Joseph. What a strange situation to be in. But, this was again precisely the purpose of the psychodrama, to have persons change their social roles and mind sets that color and bias their perceptions, of oneself as well as others.

It was much more difficult for his mother, who stepped back and watched her son search through her closet for the right dress for her to wear. It got even more awkward when he made his choice.

"Perfect!" He exclaimed with glee and pulled from his mother's closet a very short, bright orange mini-skirt. "Try this on," he suggested, but in a tone that bespoke more of a command than a request.

"Joseph, geez Louise,I can't wear that! It's much too short. I can't wear something like that."

Joseph was momentarily taken aback by his mother's defiance. He wished that his aunt had come with him, as she would probably back him up. But, he also realized that the doctor wanted him to learn to stand on his own, and there was no way he could back down. The doctor would be very disappointed if he did that. "Well, if you can't wear it then why do you have it hanging in your closet?"

There was in fact a very good explanation for that. "It's not actually mine, Joseph. It belonged to your sister, Emily. I took it away from her so that she would not embarrass herself by wearing such a garment. It barely covered her bottom."

It was a very compelling rejoinder, but Joseph knew that this was a moment of truth for him. He took a deep breath and stated, "Well, I'm in charge now and I've decided that it is a very appropriate dress for you. I believe you will in fact look very nice in it." He didn't know what he would do though if his mother continued to refuse. He would either have to give in or go to his aunt for help, like a little boy running to his mother when his friends won't play fair with him. That would be rather embarrassing, and further infantilizing.

Fortunately, his mother recognized this point as well. She had agreed to participate in this psychodrama. It was all for the good, the health and maturation, of her son. And, these psychodramas would only be a few days longer. It would be a bit embarrassing to wear such a dress, but it would at least be in the privacy of her home. She wouldn't have to go out in public wearing it. "Alright, alright, I'll put it on," she very reluctantly replied, and reached out to take the skirt from her son.

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief, and then strode over to her dresser drawers to consider what blouse would look good with the skirt.

It didn't take him long. He quickly found a very sheer white blouse. He slipped his hand beneath it to discover that it was so sheer that he could readily see his hand through the diaphanous material. "Here," he said, handing it to her. "I think this would be nice."

"Joseph!" Deborah exclaimed in shock. "You can see right through this." She normally wore this blouse beneath a suit jacket.

It didn't seem like much of a meaningful complaint to Joseph, given that he had already seen his mother's naked breasts the other day. But, of course, it would make her feel self-conscious to be so much exposed throughout the rest of the day. "Yes, and well..." He paused hesitantly before he added, "and I don't think you should wear a brassiere."

"Joseph! I'm your mother! You can't be serious!"

"Oh, I am, mother, I am," beginning to feel somewhat more comfortable in this strange new role within the family. It was like he had taken some medicine and he could slowly feel it beginning to work. "I think you will look even more fetching without the brassiere. You really should feel very good about your breasts, mother. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You might be a bit old, but they are still standing up very nicely."

Deborah's face flushed, listening to her son talk this way to her. She wasn't too sure that she liked her son becoming more assertive and comfortable with women. She averted her eyes as she said "Joseph, please, don't talk about me like that. It's just not appropriate."

Joseph didn't argue with her, but he didn't say anything more about her breasts. He moved over to her panty drawer. He discovered that she didn't have a lot of really sexy panties. He suspected that she didn't feel the need for them anymore.

Deborah glanced over at her son inspecting her various panties. This was really very intrusive, and embarrassing. Of course, she had always done precisely the same thing when she was raising him, rifling through his underwear, and she had even continued to do so up to the current day. She would in fact lecture him on how worn, frayed, or stained some of his underwear had become, much to his embarrassment. It only seemed natural, though, as she was his mother. She did, after all, do his laundry.

Joseph finally found a pair that he liked. He pulled them out and held them up for his mother. It was a pair of pink satin thong panties. "Mother, can you explain to me what you are doing with these?" He was reminded of when she once held up for him a dirty magazine that she had found tucked away beneath his mattress.

"That's none of your business, Joseph," she replied defiantly.

"Well, I think these would go well with your skirt."

Deborah had not in fact yet worn the thong. She had purchased a few sexy panties a number of years ago, when she was thinking about dating a man she had met. But, he had never asked her out. She probably should have just thrown the panties away, but she couldn't get herself to do that. They were rather expensive, and perhaps someday they might be put to good use. Well, she hadn't imagined this being their purpose.

"Son, please, that'll be so embarrassing."

"Well, mother, be grateful I'm letting you wear panties."

She scowled at him but simply sighed in frustration and reached out for the panties. As she held them in her hand she contemplated the fact that her bottom cheeks would be fully exposed, plus that darned strap would be sliding into the crack of her bottom. She couldn't imagine that being very comfortable. And, she also wondered how well she would look in them. She had wondered about that when she had first purchased them. Her derriere was not as tight and taut as it had been when she was a young lady.

She softly whimpered with trepidation as she looked at her son. "Well, will you at least leave the room while I get dressed?"

He considered denying her that privacy. She had often stayed in his room, watching him dress. But that was when he was considerably younger, and he really didn't want to unnecessarily embarrass his mother. Of course, it could be more therapeutic for him to stay and watch her. He wasn't really sure about that, not being the professional therapist, but he felt that he didn't really need to watch her dress in order to become a better man. "Sure, mom, of course. I would be happy to. Aunt Susan and I will be in the living room. You can come there when you're dressed."

As he began to depart he realized that he had not picked out her shoes. For him that would be only a choice between dress shoes, tennis shoes, and flip flops, but he noticed that his mother had quite a few more options than that. He reached down and picked up a pair of black high heels. "Oh, these would probably be good too," he said as he handed them to his mother.

As soon as he left Deborah had second thoughts as she gazed upon the garments and shoes she was supposed to wear. She once again considered simply refusing to participate in this psychodrama. But, she did want to be a good mother, to help her son. Imagine not participating in the therapy and then having second thoughts about her decision years from now when Joseph is still insecure, alone, and lonely. Imagine what her sister would say. More importantly, imagine how she'd feel about herself. With a loud, dramatic sigh she changed into the clothes her son had chosen.

Joseph informed Dr. Lowenstein how it went and she was very, very pleased with his choices. They were precisely what she was hoping for. She could see that Joseph was responding very well to the treatment, which was certainly quite fortunate as she would not be visiting her sister and nephew for very long. She would feel terribly uncomfortable leaving them after making very little progress, but she was now feeling quite good about things. She had provided Joseph with his first real test, and he had not only passed but exceeded expectations.

They both smiled as they enjoyed the sight of Deborah walking towards them down the hall, approaching the living room.

Deborah was a very pretty woman, with wavy blonde hair that fell just past her shoulders, sparkling blue eyes, smooth white skin, a perky delicate nose, and cute rosy cheeks, and now she looked quite stunning, if a pretty woman dressed as a stripper looked stunning, and to Joseph such a woman would indeed look quite stunning indeed.

Her boobs were clearly evident through the sheer blouse, and they notably wiggled and jiggled as she walked. Joseph was correct that they held up very well for her age, even better than his aunt's. They were clearly a very wondrous set of full, fleshy, bouncy natural boobs. Joseph felt so very proud of his mother, as any son should be.

He smiled as he noticed the nipples, so evident through the diaphanous material, riding the wiggly round white water balloons as she made her way down the hallway in her long high heels. They were standing up so stiff and perky, like they were all excited about the fun ride they were having and being seen once again by her son, as if they missed him so terribly much.

Deborah hesitated before stepping into the living room, noticing again the large open bay window. She would be so terribly embarrassed if someone saw her dressed like this, even well beyond the embarrassment she was already feeling over her son ogling her lewd attire. But, she took a deep breath, her full breasts rising up, and entered the room.

Susan exclaimed, "That's a very pretty outfit Joseph picked out for you, Deborah, don't you think?"

"Yeah, sure," she responded, although not with a tremendous amount of obvious enthusiasm, to say the least. She reminded herself of the time she dressed Joseph for his first day of school. He had been equally less than enthusiastic.

"And," Susan added, "I so much like his decision to have you go without your brassiere." She stepped up to her sister and reached out to grasp each bulbous breast within her hands, giving them a big squeeze.

"Susan! Geez Loise!" Deborah protested her sister's rather brazen impudence, a look of shock in her eyes.

"Well, how can one resist when they're just sticking out there like that, and they're so squeezably squishy and soft." She turned to Joseph as she continued to grope her sister's boobs. "Don't you think so, Joseph?"

It was a clear sign for him to step up and grasp his mother's breasts as well, but Joseph could see the look in his mother's eyes, which clearly expressed a request, if not demand, that he restrain himself. Joseph responded only by saying, rather timidly, "Oh, yeah, sure."

Dr. Lowenstein was not discouraged by his reaction. She could not expect an immediate, full transition. She had only done this to model for her nephew the type of behavior that would be expected of him the rest of the day. She had not expected him to exhibit such progress immediately himself. "Yes, well, gracious, you certainly are showing considerable restraint by not clutching onto these magnificent mammaries yourself, I must say."

She pulled her hands away, much to Deborah's relief. But, Susan then reflected on her decision. "Hmmmm," she said as she pondered for a brief second, and then returned her hands, this time to cup each of them within her palms, as best she could given their size, and then proceeded to bounce them up and down for a bit.