Bdsm Sex Stories

by Olga Menson

  Marcus didn't like to wallow in self-pity, but he often thought that it was unfair that the perfect woman would always love him yet be out of his reach. While he had spied on her before, he felt sick about even that, and he would never do anything to endanger his relationship with Melinda. She deserved better than that. She deserved a better son. So he had cut himself off, been stoic, avoided being alone with her. He knew that this hurt her emotionally, but he had nightmares of how she would have reacted if she had learned the truth about his desires.

  None of those thoughts prevented him from appreciating his mother that morning, however. She wore a sundress, as loose and playful as it was revealing. He'd never seen his mother in something with a lower bust line, and he was suddenly very aware of how hard he was and would be, as long as she dressed like this. He knew that his mother had a new swimsuit as well, but he hadn't seen it yet. He both anticipated and feared his reaction.

  Marcus was, in a word, enraptured with his mother's sensual beauty. It was for this reason that he didn't notice that Angela had said his name. He heard it the second time.

  "Looks like Marcus agrees with me, Melinda. Look at how he's checking you out."

  Marcus looked up in startled surprise. Angela was looking at him with something like mischief, and William had an expression of sympathy. Oh god, he'd been caught! Why did she do that to him? Didn't she know that his mother was a prude? That she would be horrified? Marcus looked at his mother, his face flushed with a mix of shame and arousal. Her face, however, was unreadable.

  Angela took pity on him, thankfully.

  "Oh, Melinda, don't worry. Like I was saying, you're very sexy, and any man of good taste, your son included, would check you out. William looks at me the same way from time to time, and it makes me feel amazing."

  Now both Melinda and Marcus were shocked into silence, and Angela and William both chuckled in an open, friendly way. William moved his hand to the small of Angela's back.

  "God," William said, "do you remember when we were like them, mom? It seems like it was a decade ago instead of just last year."

  "Hush," Angela said, playfully smacking her son's arm, "you let them move at their own pace. No spoilers."

  At that, Melinda and her son shared a confused look. They didn't have any time to ask questions, however, because that was when the room darkened.

  The presentation had begun.

  * *

  The woman on stage was pert, blonde, and obviously in great shape. She was in her fifties, and her smile was that of someone accustomed to speaking before large audiences. She wore a simple pantsuit that was obviously tailored to her slim, athletic frame. Having seen many such speakers in her working life, Melinda was immediately struck by her open expression. This wasn't a mask put on to impress a crowd. She really was happy to be here. But what was "here," exactly?

  "I'm so happy to see all of you. I know how that sounds, talking to over two-thousand people, but it's true."

  Melinda looked around. Could there really be that many people? The brochure had said they had about one thousand rooms, and as she paid attention to the family units seated at the many tables, there were mostly pairs, but there were somewhere a mother had come with two or even three of her sons.

  "My name is Lacy Carter. That's my real name, by the way. Some of you won't feel comfortable sharing personal details with strangers, and that's ok. First things first, however, I want to make something perfectly clear. Your privacy is protected. This island has stringent internet restrictions, which you may have already noticed. In addition, we will ensure that there are no paper trails connecting you to the Resort, and that includes how we bill you. We want people to be able to focus on themselves and their loved ones. And relax, of course."

  "Second, I want all of you to know that you are safe. We do radical things here, and we know it. Nothing that I am going to discuss is illegal on Carradas. Everyone here is an adult. No one will be pushed into anything that they don't want. We have numerous representatives who can help alleviate any of your concerns. You can find them at the exits of this room, at the main desk, and at our service desks on each floor."

  "Thirdly, if this is your first event here, welcome! You have been seated with someone who has been here before. They've volunteered to be your safety line. They felt exactly the uncertainty that you do right now, and they came back. All we ask of you is to keep an open mind and consider whether or not you want the same kind of happiness that they already have."

  If Melinda was concerned before Lacy started talking, now she was downright alarmed. She looked over at Angela, who returned a reassuring smile with a little wink. For whatever reason, Angela's total lack of fear reassured her more than any words could have. Still, she reached out and held Marcus' hand. She was here for him, just like he was here for her.

  "All right, I know a lot of you are ready to start your journey, but everyone knows that I insist on speaking for a little while first. I've given the preliminaries, but I like to tell a little story before we get started. I need all of you, especially the mothers, to understand that I was where you were, and it terrified me. The uncertainty you must be feeling right now is one thing, but what I most feared was losing my son."

  "Once upon a time, I was a happy, driven executive. I'd worked my way up the ladder at a company that was in a record growth period. I traveled the world and helped set up new offices in all parts of the world. I had a supportive husband who worked part-time and took care of the house and kids. I had everything, and life was good. For a few years."

  "Except, of course, everything was not good. I learned this when I came home after a particularly daunting trip. I remember it well. The meetings had been stressful, the conflicts endless, and the trip back from Singapore was sleepless. I was tired and upset and just wanted to come home, eat, and sleep. I didn't pay attention when my daughter barely returned my greeting. I didn't particularly mind that my son didn't even look up from his laptop. I didn't even notice the grim expression on my husband's face."

  "He brought me food and sat with me as I ate. After a few minutes of silence, I realized that something was wrong, and I asked him what. He told me that he wanted a separation. I was stunned."

  "But I shouldn't have been. He'd tried again and again to talk to me about how distant he felt I was becoming. About how our daughter was becoming more rebellious and self-destructive. About how our son was sullen and resentful about anything having to do with me. Then, while I was still stunned, he asked me, quite calmly, if I had been having an affair."

  "I hadn't been. I know things happen in relationships, and some are rebuilt, and others are not, but I hadn't gone in that direction. Neither had he, but his question was legitimate. And in a way, I was having an affair. With my work, my sense of importance, and my money."

  "I broke down and felt guilty for that. I felt like I was using tears to blackmail my husband, but they were real. Fortunately, I am blessed with a wonderful family. My husband gave me another chance. I quit my job, and we started our own, much less stressful business. We worked together, and when travel was required, we did so as a pair. Sometimes we took our daughter, who was by that point rebellious and argumentative in a much more healthy and adolescent way. She and I reconnected. She told me things that I wasn't prepared to hear, but that's not important right now. She trusted me again, and I kept that trust."

  "The one exception was my son. Even after a year, he still remained surly and silent. What was worse, now he extended it to my husband and daughter. He regarded their forgiveness as foolish and even betrayal. While I was gone, spending time mentoring other people, including many young men, he had no mother. He felt this more keenly than my daughter, and of course, he lacked the longer-term perspective of his father. I confronted him about it, as his mother and an authority figure, and I demanded that he tell me what I had to do to get him to forgive me. Big mistake."

  "He looked me in the eye and told me that he'd never forgive me. That I might have foole
d his father and sister, but that he knew I was nothing but a user, someone who had a family as a kind of prop for their life. He reminded me of a million little things that I had missed or left undone with him. Of course, they weren't little. He told me about his first girlfriend and first breakup, and the times he needed me. He told me that it wasn't my place to demand forgiveness and that he wouldn't ever give it. If I wanted him to leave our house, he'd leave. It was as simple as that. He was eighteen and an adult. But he wouldn't give in."

  "I was despondent. Finally, I understood what I'd squandered. The bond between a mother and her son is sacred. I had broken it with negligence and arrogance. I was in tears for the rest of the day until my husband returned home. That was when we had the talk."

  "Our new business was in the resort industry, hosting invite-only events like this. And he'd had an idea that came from a friend of ours. Our friend is a psychologist and researcher, someone who is very respected in small, scholarly circles. She'd written a paper. It had been peer reviewed, but never published. She never thought that it could be, but she'd shared it with my husband. It was about a new therapeutic approach to exactly our problem: reconnecting with beloved family members when the relationship seemed hopelessly broken."

  "According to the paper, she'd had nearly one-hundred percent success. Of course, I was interested. I was more than interested. My husband was telling me that there might be hope, and I clung to that. I didn't understand why he hadn't brought it up sooner. Then he told me what the therapy was."

  "In simple terms, what the paper recommended and what my son and I committed to, was a shared therapeutic process in a very controlled, isolated, and relaxed environment, similar to the one that you are in now. Infrasonic and subliminal messaging was used not to manipulate but to reveal and release long-hidden emotions and desires. Then, after a little bit of priming, the people that needed to reconnect would engage in exercises. These exercises started with some simple physical contact and shared activities. They ended with unprotected sex."

  The room was shaken by a murmur of shock and even a few shouts. Melinda was too stunned to be angry. Oh god, what must Marcus think of her? She looked at him, but his eyes were far away, and she knew that he must have been imagining precisely what Lacy had been discussing. As she sat there, holding her son's hand for dear life, she saw some mothers, sons, or even pairs leaving their tables. They were panicking. Melinda looked at the stage. Lacy continued to smile. She had expected this.

  "All right. Those of you that are still with us, please take a deep breath. Everything is all right. If anyone has left the room, rest assured that they will be speaking with a therapist shortly. I'm just going to say one more thing, and then I'll let you review your guides in peace. If you keep an open mind and complete even a few of the exercises we recommend, I guarantee that you will have a better relationship with your son when you leave. That is not idle talk. We have a money-back pledge that refunds you tenfold what you've paid to be here. Incidentally, my daughter was upset with me when she learned that her brother and I had become lovers, but not because of what we'd done, but because she wanted the same kind of closeness with her father and brother than I now had. I can honestly say that my entire family is together because of the journey that you are now about to embark on."

  Lacy left the stage, the lights came up. Melinda's heart raced in her chest. What was going on? Were they being forced to...to rape their sons? That was the only way she could understand it. Surely, these young men would not willingly engage in such activity. This...this was monstrous. Then, she felt Angela's hand on her arm. Melinda jumped slightly.

  "Melinda, look at me. I'm relaxed. William is, too. I felt exactly the same as you did. Well, maybe not exactly. William and I were fleeing his father then, who was abusive and a monster. I was terrified that I'd landed in some other new kind of horror. I wanted to protect my son more than anything else in the world. Is that what you want?"

  Melinda could only nod. Angela smiled widely.

  "Then look at him now. Really look. Don't see with your fear, see with your love. He may not be able to answer, but what do you think he really wants right now? Do you think he wants to leave? Or do you think he wants to be closer to his mother?"

  Melinda, grasping for any solidity at all, looked at Marcus, pleadingly. She felt awful, seeking strength from the one man she should be able to safeguard, but she saw only warmth in return. Marcus was flushed, and there was no doubt, some of that was desire. A heat that she'd never allowed herself to notice was in his gaze. She felt the familiar tingle of arousal, and her own face grew hot. It wasn't merely that, though. It was also overwhelming love, a connection that she could feel tenuously reforming between them.

  She decided then that they would stay.

  * * *

  What They Saw

  * * *

  Marcus was silent. He honestly had no idea what he should do. He felt so many things. Fear of forcing his mother to do things that she wouldn't want. Fear of her rejecting him and calling him a monster for his wants. Love of his mother and an urgent need to protect her. Melinda, however, no longer appeared to be worried. She and Angela were speaking quietly now, they had moved their chairs so they could be closer, and Marcus couldn't hear what they were whispering about.

  "Don't worry," William said, "It's going to be fine. No one's going to make either of you do anything. The only thing this place is strict about is privacy and safety. Other than that, it's all just a lot of suggestions."

  "Suggestions that we...we fuck our mothers."

  William laughed.

  "It's true. I had a harder time facing that than you did, but I'm guessing you've had a thing for her for a long time. I'm not judging. Your mom is hot, and it's obvious that she loves you a lot. There's nothing wrong with any of it. All I'm gonna say is to keep an open mind and let your mom take the lead. Oh, and my mom and I are in room 302 if you need us."

  Marcus was thankful that there was someone at this Resort who seemed to understand his struggles. In a few minutes, things became weirdly routine. People were talking animatedly at each table, but there was little outrage or fear and more anticipation. Resort representatives walked around and passed out booklets to each table. Marcus noticed that the one for sons had a blue cover and the one for mothers was a deep green. Each one came with a red wristband that looked like it had some electronics in it. He flipped his book open, but it said clearly on the first page: "Do not read this book until your mother allows you."

  A strange way to put something to an adult. He was tempted to ignore the restriction, but he looked up at his mother then, and she was already flipping through the pages. Angela was pointing at things, explaining them.

  Marcus felt left out, but there was nothing to be done. He passed the time talking to William about video games, of all things. They shared similar tastes in both women and entertainment, it seemed.

  "Oh," William said, "one more thing. Stuff might be a little slow to get started, and you're not supposed to read the guide yet, but people are allowed to, um, broadcast from cameras in their rooms. When they're, you know, fucking or whatever. You can see some very hot stuff, but it's also meant to normalize what's going on, so you can understand that you're part of something bigger. And the rest of the channels suck to be honest since there's no real internet or cable here. If you're bored, check it out."

  Marcus had tons of questions at this new revelation, but suddenly his mother was standing and pulling on his arm, gently. When had she stood up? She smiled at him, trying and failing to conceal her nervousness.

  "We've got our room assigned. Put on your wristband, they're used as room keys and to pay for things. Let's go."

  Marcus followed her out of the room, more confused than ever.

  * *

  Melinda's mind seemed to be spinning as Marcus waved his wristband in front of the door, and the lock clicked open. He opened the door, then held it for his mother. Their bags were all stacked neatly inside, as pro
mised.

  As Melinda stepped inside, for just a moment, she felt a bit of the same dizziness from before, although it passed much faster. When the door closed behind them, she felt herself tingle with a new awareness of how close her son was to her, of how handsome and virile he was. Was this part of the "therapy" that Lacy had mentioned? Were they being manipulated into doing something? Or was it simply revealing true feelings and desires, as Angela had insisted in their quiet conversation after the presentation?

  Melinda doubted that it mattered either way. She couldn't imagine that Marcus would genuinely be interested in the exercises and games that were in the guide, not with his aging mother, in any case. That didn't mean that she couldn't make the best of things. They were on a beautiful Caribbean island, after all. His silence was concerning to her, however. She decided that she needed a moment to think, away from her son. He was suddenly distracting to her in novel ways.

  "I'm um...going to freshen up," Melinda said, a bit ashamed of the blatant lie, disappearing into the bathroom.

  The door closed behind her, and she took in the furnishings. The tile and furnishings were all in matching dark gray marble. There was a toilet with a bidet. A whole series of lotions and oils sat discreetly next to the sink. And the bathtub was quite large, more than enough for two of them to be in comfortably. There were even hand and footrests, which led Melinda to imagine all manner of positions. She blushed and once more felt ashamed.

  "You can do this. You can do anything for your son."

  The pep talk, as lame as it sounded to her, had the desired effect. If becoming close to her son again required extreme action, then she would take it, so long as Marcus never got hurt. She loved him, more than she ever had her husband. She felt a slight electrical tingling sensation from her wristband, and her body relaxed, ever so slightly. She remembered a time a few weeks ago when she had seen a particularly explicit text message pop up on her husband's phone as it sat on the kitchen table. He hadn't bothered locking it, and it was yet another reminder of his inability to be faithful. She had ended up sobbing quietly while making dinner. Marcus had found her there and hugged her spontaneously. She hadn't explained anything, but she had leaned gratefully into him for warmth and comfort. Now, in this strange place, she could admit that his presence had aroused her as well.