Mixed

You walk barefoot back to the car, and pause at the door… you really don't want to break the car. Focusing, you slip back into normal time, listen as the noise of the city resumes, then quickly open the door, climb in….

…and buckle up, covering your chest and crotch with your hands, your cheeks burning… and the money intact in your hand.

Your mother looks over at you, and grins lecherously, pauses, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, “What happened?”

You breathe slowly, “a bank robbery. I foiled it, but clothes don't survive my speed.” You swallow, “On the plus side…” you show what you're holding, “...being ‘The Streak’ apparently pays well.”

Your mother opens her eyes, then grabs the bills with his big, strong hand, counts them, pauses, and hands them back. Looking away, he takes another deep breath, “I'm sorry.”

You take a breath through your teeth as you take the cash, “You've been a single mom for as long as I've known you. Money's tight, and that's a mortgage payment.” You pause, and hand it back, “You know what? Keep it. You've supported me my entire life. About time I gave something back.” You have a little trouble reading your mother's face. Okay, yes, the lust in his gaze is plain as day, but there's something else there you don't quite recognize… you do like it, though. “Ma, you're making me blush…” you look away. Oh, that hollow, empty, wet feeling down below again… she felt so good in there….

You try to ignore it as your mother speaks up in that deep voice of his, “Okay. We need to get new clothes for both of us, and I can't exactly go back to my old job like this,” she gestures at her manly form, “so yeah… anything you can bring in while I job hunt.” She sighs, “For now… let's go home and get you something to wear so we can go shopping.”

“Sounds good…” you look out the window, face blushing.

As your mother drives, he sighs, “look…” he places his hand on your thigh, just inches from your lower entrance, “...you did good. They even rewarded you for it. Keep it up.”

You feel a wonderful tingle at that point of contact, and that makes your middle feel even warmer. You bite your lip and moan. Your mother starts to pull back her hand, but you grab hers and bring it to your baby bakery.

“I'm driving…” she begins, but doesn't remove her hand, instead finding that little magic button between your legs and slowly circling it with her palm as she slides a finger in and out of your hole at a teasingly slow pace and continues, “...but I get it. You seem to have the same libido levels I had before you came along.” She takes a slow breath, “I'll help you out, but… keep in mind, most folks frown on incest.”

“We don't… ooh… need to…” you moan, “...let people know… ah… we're related,” you manage through the pleasurable sensations.

“Abandon our old identities entirely?” Your mother considers that as she continues to finger you as she drives, “hmm. I can live with that. Stage a move-in, pretend at being new to the area…” she considers as he keeps fingering you, “...I could be Mark again, you could be Brenda…” you scream out ‘yes’ for reasons unrelated to the actual conversation.

“Thanks, I needed that,” you pant as your mother brings his hand to her mouth and licks your juices off his fingers, “I guess…” you consider, “...I can live as a ‘Brenda’. Meet my friends ‘for the first time’,” …why can't you stop thinking about the time you saw Derek in the showers? Oh, right… your body wants that rod that hangs past his knee … hmm….

“We're going to need to get you on the pill…” your mother… Mark… considers, “...with that libido you are going to get pregnant otherwise.”

“Eh, I know a curse for barrenness,” your body guest speaks up in your head, “...and the cure for it when you want to have kids later. I need to exercise tonight anyway. I'll handle that at that time. I'll handle diseases as well.”

You frown, putting your phone to your ear, “Thank you for handling the pregnancy complication, but… umm, I don't plan on having kids.”

“How do I want to phrase this…” your guest considers, “You’re currently eighteen. Ten years ago, you were probably super into some toy craze, and a completely different one five years ago… neither of which you care about now, and you'll have different interests now than you did five or ten years ago. In another five or ten years, your interests and priorities may well have changed yet again. You don't like the idea of having kids now: That's fine, I have no problems locking that door for you… but you may feel differently in five or ten years, so I'm not going to nail it shut: I'm going to leave you with a key so you can open it back up if you change your mind. You may never change your mind… and that's fine: Your call. But I will leave you with the option.”

You nod slowly, “Fair… and thank you. So how would this barrenness curse work?”

“It was originally developed by a fifth century slaver to preserve his stock for sale,” he begins, “not great, but it let him fool around with them without worry. It basically pauses a woman's ovaries where they are in their monthly cycle. No released eggs, no pregnancy. The curse is conditional: It self-terminates after you put a gold ring on the ring finger of your left hand. He could still sell them as breeders, and as a bonus you won't need to worry about menstruation.”

Umm… “you're going to put me under a spell used on slaves so they could be raped without losing their value!?”

“Canning was invented at the behest of a king so that soldiers could be fed for war,” the ring chuckles, “roads were built by kings so they could move armies around, the microwave is an outgrowth of radar technology used in war, radiotherapy is an outgrowth of nuclear weapons, all land was taken by force at some point, electricity is used for executions, and so on. If you worry too much about where things come from, you can't eat fish from an ocean where men drown.” He takes a breath, “Personally, I enjoy ‘corrupting’ things that were meant for bad purposes and turning them to good uses. It seems like the best possible revenge against their creators to me.”

You consider… “Okay, yes, beats the alternative, it's just…” you pause as your mother parks the car, “...seems off. Still… I accept. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the dragon on your hand chuckles as you get out and head inside….