You tell her the truth.

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. You realize that your mom isn’t going to judge you or think any less of you. She literally can’t. You take your time and pause the video, so the soundtrack of spanks and squeals stops.

“Here’s the thing. I’m… really interested in that kind of thing — the relationship dynamic — the power exchange. I mean, obviously, I have no experience, but it appeals to me. It seems so… intense.” Your palms feel a little sweaty as you say it out loud, and your pulse quickens. Even though you know it won’t change your mom’s opinion of you, it’s scary to admit it out loud.

Your mother seems to sense that you’re uncomfortable. She steps into your room and kneels at the side of your desk chair, her eyes fixed on your face. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, honey. Everyone has their own… preferences… when it comes to things like that.”

She nods her head towards the screen, “I admit, there is something very exciting about that kind of relationship. Of living under the rule of a strong, decisive man. One who knows what he wants and takes it, and I’m one of the things he wants.” Her chest rises and falls as she breathes heavily. She grips your hand. “If it's the right man. One I know loves me and would care for me. Who, even if he takes pleasure in hurting me, would never want to harm me.”

Once your mom knew that it was what you wanted, it was inevitable that she would express any deep interest or curiosity she had been harboring about dominance and submission. You didn’t necessarily want to encourage her to think about you that way, although you realize that bridge has been crossed now. But keeping Tracey around and treating her the way you want to will be much easier if your mom is on board with you having a ****.

You squeeze her hand back. “I’m glad you feel that way, mom. There is a girl in one of my classes who I’m interested in trying out that kind of relationship with. Her family might not be so accepting of it, so she’d be spending a lot of time at our house. That won’t be a problem for you, will it?”

“If it makes you happy, honey, I’d be happy to have her here whenever.” Your mom smiles at you and moves your hand to her mouth to kiss the back. “If she’s in your class, I assume she’s graduating and is legal age. If her parents object to her lifestyle, she can move in here with us, if you like.” She suggests, wanting to help you in any way she can.

You lean over and give her a long, lingering kiss on the cheek. “You’re the best, mom.” You tell her, and her face lights up at hearing your praise. You stand up, guide her up from her knees, and give her a long, tight hug. “You should get dinner started, so it’s ready when Abbie gets home.”

She nods and gives you a last tight squeeze before heading towards the kitchen. She looks back over her shoulder and says, “Right away, Master,” in a sultry, teasing voice.

Once Abbie gets home, things get tense for you. You’re distracted thinking about seeing Tracey in school tomorrow, and worried about your sister noticing how strangely your mother is behaving. You manage to keep up small talk as you help make dinner with your mother and sister. Mom though acts very doting and concerned that everything she makes is perfect and just the way you want it. You notice that Abbie is watching her curiously, so at one point, when Abbie answers a phone call, you whisper to Mom to start showing the same concern for making everything good for her daughter. She does after that, but you can see that Abbie is still suspicious about Mom’s sudden domesticity.

After dinner, Abbie goes out with friends. You sit on the couch with Mom, watching TV, she snuggles against you, occasionally kissing your cheek or neck. You think that it’s a good thing you are going to have Tracey as a **** soon, because you might not have the willpower to resist your mother for much longer.

When you turn off the TV, your mom says softly and hesitantly. “Dave… can I ask you a favor?”

You smile at her. “You can ask anything, mom.” You hug her with your arm around her shoulders.

“I was thinking — I know you said it was OK that I told you about my dreams, my feelings about you, but… I still feel like I did something very wrong. I, I feel like I need to repent, to be punished.” She takes in a deep breath. “Dave, would you spank me before we go to bed?”