Rousing Terry

Terry was roused from his sleep by the sound of voices. His dreams had been strangely arousing that night, moving from one scene of humiliation to another, and he was unsure whether he was glad to be pulled from them or not. Shaking the cobwebs from his mind, he landed on glad; with his erection straining, he would have hated to have to explain to his wife why he had soiled her panties and pajamas.

Looking over to ask his wife whether or not he should go check on the voices, he was surprised to see that she was missing. Usually she was a sound sleeper, which gave Terry the chance to get out of bed and make her breakfast before she woke up. He still remembered when she had instructed him to take on the task, the night they returned from their honeymoon.

"From now on," Natalie had said, pointing to a place on the bed where she wanted him to put the suitcases he was carrying, "you'll be taking care of meals. You can get up early and make breakfast, have our lunches made before we leave for work, and supper when we get home. It'll give you something to do, something to focus on."

He had already transitioned from his sister's clothes to his new wife's, and had already been told that he would have to lose a little weight to not stretch the material too much. Being the one cooking would help out. He could make sure that he didn't make anything too unhealthy, and only make so much to enforce his serving size would be smaller.

As usual, Natalie had been right. While he'd never enjoyed cooking before, Terry had found himself relishing in his new role, taking on the responsibility with a smile. And the weight had come off! Soon enough he was a close match for his wife's size, clothes fitting much better, making his day-to-day tasks so much easier. The memory of slipping into his wife's skirt suit for job interviews, the garments fitting almost perfectly, still brought a rush of pride into his heart.

The voices still sounded in the house. A glance at the clock told him that it was almost 1 am, far past a time that people should be up. What was happening? Terry swung his legs and climbed out of bed, tiptoeing to the hallway. There was a light on in Tim's room, which also seemed to be source of the voices. As usual, Terry was unsure as to what he should do. Should he investigate? Should he go back to sleep? He wished Natalie were there to instruct him, but she wasn't.

Straining his ear, one of the voices sounded familiar. It was Natalie! If he found her, he could ask for direction! Before he realized it, his bare feet were padding down the hardwood toward the light. As he approached, the other voice became clear. It was the sweet soprano tone of his only son, Tim. Now Terry was sure he would be told what to do. If Natalie couldn't order him, Tim would absolutely do it. Nobody Terry had ever met had more authority ingrained in them like Tim. Even the slightest hint of a suggestion from Tim would be almost impossible for Terry not to follow.

"Why are you acting this way?" Tim's voice squeaked as Terry peaked his head around the doorframe to find out what was happening. His son didn't sound happy to Terry. Something must be wrong,

"Is it wrong for a mother to love her son? To show a little affection?" Natalie responded. Terry could see now that both his son and his wife were wearing low-cut nighties, designed to show off the pair's ample breasts. Tim was sitting against the backboard of the bed, an uncomfortable look on his face, while Natalie was on all fours at the foot of the bed.

"Affection is fine," Tim's voice rang, "but that's something else. Mother's don't do that with their sons! It's not right!"

"I know, honey," Natalie whined, a tone that Terry recognized only from when she didn't get her way with Tim, "but you're a man now, and I'm a woman. I have needs, and so do you. Please, just let me, just this once."

"No!' Tim sang, "You have to control yourself!"

"I'm trying," Natalie sounded ****, "I really am, but I've got a fire inside of me that just won't quit, and I'm burning for you, baby."

There was a lull in the conversation for a moment as Tim stared at his mother in disbelief. Terry took this as a good moment to pipe in.

"Excuse me, Natalie," Terry said in a meek voice, stepping into the room, "I heard you talking, and I'm not sure what I should do. Should I go back to sleep, or do you need me in here for something?"

Natalie turned to look at him, and Terry saw an expression of distress on her face. His heart ached to understand what was wrong, to try to make things better for her. He just wished he understood what was happening in the room. To him, it almost looked like they had been on the bed together, and Natalie had been trying to...

"Wait," Terry said without thinking, "were you two being.... intimate?"

"Shit," Terry heard Tim say. He would have heard a lot more, though, had the flow of time not suddenly stopped, leaving him and his wife frozen in place, unaware of the powers that were at play with their destinies.