Posted by tina on May 02, 2007 at 09:59:43:
"Mother Comes First"
(Inspired by Fester)
By Tina
The headline had proclaimed "South Side Strangler Claims Two More Victims" in bold agate type across the top of the morning newspaper. As usual Charlie Smith was disappointed in the lack of detail the papers provided. The paper mentioned both women had been strangled with nylon stockings and had been sexually assaulted. The latter actually offended Charlie greatly. Of course he was the only who knew how pleasant his sexual advances were to his ladies.
The paper did have one meaningful fact for Charlie. The second victim's name was Amber Smith. Charlie's intended victim was Kimberly Sanders and poor Amber had picked the wrong time to have a tryst.
"Amber Smith," Charlie rolled the name around in his mind, "Probably strangled a long lost cousin."
Charlie laughed out loud at this joke. Actually Charlie was essentially an orphan in the sense he had no knowledge of his mother or father. There had been no blood relatives in Charlie's life and he was quite content to leave it at that. He had heard too many of his friends and colleagues at the college complain about mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers. And that was to say nothing of all the in-laws and out-laws. Charlie was very content to be his own man with no relatives to concern him.
Of course these thoughts soon dredged up Mother. The South Side Strangler had claimed eleven victims so far. But Charlie Smith had strangled two people before the first strangler victim. Mother was the first.
Charlie could still see her. She was a tall woman, big bosomed, with bright red hair and a temper to match. She ran a bordello and Charlie could no longer remember how he had come to be in Mother's care. Mother had raised Charlie and nurtured him. Actually all the "girls" had taken a hand with Charlie's upbringing. He had been introduced to sex in all its forms while he was still in grade school. Mother had shown Charlie how to use his hands to provide erotic pleasure to a woman. This was long before Charlie had reached puberty. He would massage her shoulders or rub her tired feet. Charlie would rub out the occasional cramp she got in her right calf. Mother's eyes would close and she would moan softly as Charlie's finger's massaged her tired legs.
Mother always wore black stockings, often with red or royal blue garters at mid thigh. Charlie loved the feel of the nylons when he gave Mother her regular foot rubs or leg massages.
Despite this precocious upbringing Charlie was still quite naive. He really had no concept about the house that he called home. Charlie also had no thought of Mother except how he loved to touch her feet and legs. Fortunately Charlie had always been big for his age so his classmates tended to leave him be. Even when one or another would call Mother a whore, Charlie just laughed along with them. He would see Mother's face in his mind eye.
"Charlie, this old whore is ready for a good foot rub," she would say as she plopped down in the easy chair.
He never took any offense because he basically was ignorant of the intended slight. Charlie was also not very observant of the comings and goings around him. Of course he knew the men from town often paid visits to the house but no one bothered to explain in detail what was transpiring behind the many closed doors that surrounded Charlie.
That all changed when Charlie walked in on Mother and the stranger.
Mother lay in the middle of the great four poster bed. She was wearing a black merry widow with blue ribbon trim and a tiny blue bow on each garter strap. The garter straps held up her sheer, black stockings. Charlie saw mother's panties on the floor next to the stranger's trousers. The man stood at the side of the bed about to take down his underpants when Charlie burst into the room.
"What the fuck is he doing here?" the man said indignantly.
"CHARLIE," Mother screamed, "You know you're not allowed in here when I'm entertaining."
Charlie had run from the room, scared, shaken by what he had seen and afraid that he did not understand. Late in the morning the next day, Mother had sent for Charlie.
"Charlie, come give this old whore a foot rub and let's talk."
So Charlie had rubbed Mother's lovely feet, looking at the dark nail polish through the sheer stockings and for the first time he was aroused. Because now he understood that Mother was desirable. As Mother explained about her business the world suddenly turned inside out for Charlie. He wanted Mother, wanted her physically more than anything he had ever wanted in his fourteen years.
"....have to go away," Mother was saying, "I'm sorry, but that's the way it has to be."
Suddenly Charlie realized Mother was speaking of him going away. Charlie would have to find a new home. Charlie's hands moved up Mother's legs and for some reason she did not resist. Perhaps she let Charlie's hands slide over her silky thighs out of a feeling of guilt or perhaps it was the magic touch. Whatever the reason, Charlie's fingers eventually found Mother's cunt. The old whore had moaned with delight as Charlie began to finger her slit. She lay against the mound of pillows as Charlie loosened one of her stockings with one hand, tenderly kissed her breasts and vigorously stimulated her wet cunt.
She paid no real attention as Charlie slowly slid the sheer black stocking out from under the blue garter, down her plump leg and pulled it free of the painted toes. Mother was in heaven. She was actually having an orgasm and her brain was trying to remember, through the euphoria of sexual arousal, when the last time that had happened. Her eyes were still closed when Charlie stopped fingering her.
"Don't stop, please, Charlie," Mother said in a hoarse husky voice.
Mother had opened her eyes just as Charlie had looped the stocking around her flabby neck. Mother had made a most startled noise as Charlie pulled her black nylon snugly around the old whore's neck. She tried to sit up but Charlie was too strong for her. He looped the ends behind her head, cinched the nylon tight and pulled Mother back down with his right hand as his left went back to work between her legs.
Mother's lips kept forming a circle as if she wanted to say "OH" but only strangled gasps came out of her painted lips. The red of her rouge was soon swallowed up by the bright glow of her initial asphyxiation. Her hands slapped weakly at Charlie and then her brain suddenly realized that her body was having another delicious orgasm.
She wanted to tell Charlie how wonderful it all was but the stocking was much too tight by this time for the old whore to get any words out of her blue tinged lips. Then Charlie had brought his hand up and taken hold of the ends of the stocking. He had looked into Mother's eyes as he crossed the stocking under her chin. That is when Mother shook her head violently from side to side and tried to say something that Charlie thought was "No stop".
"Don't stop," Mother tried to tell Charlie as she shook her head. Her body was filled with unfulfilled orgasmic energy. A woman, for whom sex had become work, a mere occupation and mostly drudgery, suddenly wanted more. And her surrogate son could give her more and there was only one thing standing in the way.
Charlie pulled the stocking tight under Mother's chin. All the while the woman shook her head and Charlie had not understood. He simply pulled the sheer black stocking tighter and tighter, watching Mother's face go from bright red to a dull purple. Her mouth at first opened and closed in an effort to draw a breathe but soon it hung wide open as Mother's tongue pushed out like a fish's bloated swim bladder.
The stocking was now several thin bands of black quickly disappearing into the folds of Mother's flabby throat. Mother's finger's pried furiously at the bands but they grew tighter as Charlie yanked on the black nylon. Charlie watched the old whore's legs kicking, one still clad in shinny black stocking and the other pale white. As the strangulation continued Mother's frenzied panic grew, peaked as her body bucked violently on the bed and then gradually subsided. The woman's legs no longer lifted off the bed but merely slid slowly back and forth over the red satin sheets. Her fingers touched the bands stocking around her throat but now there was little movement of her arms.
Initially Mother had done quite a bit of squawking as she tried to call for help, plead for Charlie to stop and desperately draw in a little air. After several minutes all Charlie could hear were quiet moans. Then the old whore's right arm fell away and unfolded by her side, palm up with fingers loosely curled. The left hand dropped slightly and came to rest on Mother's ample bosom. This caught Charlie's eye and he saw that there was no movement of her breasts.
Charlie wound the stocking around Mother's neck a final time, tied a hard knot in the ends at the back of her neck and then gently lowered her body down on the bed. He stood a minute gazing at Mother's corpse. Her face was a hideous mask and certainly bore no resemblance to the mother he remembered.
Charlie put the paper down and sighed. He still missed Mother even after all the years. Charlie was till amazed that a local simpleton had been charged with Mother's murder. And even more amazed that the man confessed. Normally he would have been executed but his mental state and Mother's reputation allowed him to get sent to a mental institution. Charlie never learned what happened to the man as Charlie had been sent to a state home in another city.
Mother was Charlie's first victim and probably would have been the last. Charlie laughed as he thought about the twists and turns of his life. He thought of Amber Smith, young and blond and pretty as she lay tied to the bed and he slowly strangled her to death. Amber was his latest victim but certainly not his last.