Chapter 19: Terrible Dreams (FF inc)

“Call if you ever need a ride again!”

The old bus driver’s voice called out through the windy day and Sonja shivered from the sound of it. His voice scraped against her nerves as did the obvious leer that burned into her back. She shuddered once and wrapped her arms tightly around her, trying to avoid the biting wind until she could get into her house. Less than a few hundred feet, it still felt like a mile before she mounted up the stairs and unlocked the door.

Inside, a light was blinking on the answering machine. Shivering slightly from the unusually cold day, she wondered how she adjusted to the heat of California so quickly that a normal Illinois fall day felt miserable. The machine beeped once and a gruff voice called with an estimate on the repairs for her car. The amount only annoyed her compared to the reason she had to repair her car. The day before, while she was in a store, someone had thrown a brick through her front windshield. It had been scrawled with "dyke."

Sonja knew it was Betty or one of her friends, but there was nothing she could do besides file a complaint with the police. And then get it repaired.

She called out to her mother, but there was no answer. For a moment, she considered padding up the stairs, where she had spent the night with her mother, but decided to return to her bedroom instead. She wrote a quick note to her mother about the repair and then headed to her room.

Her shoes were loud on the stairs as she slowly moved down. She yawned from her exhaustion. Her feet set down on the cold concrete and she paused, glancing into her workshop.

The light was on, a single bare bulb in the center of the room. Behind in, the massive gallows she was constructing stood strongly in her vision. The wood glowed darkly, the third layer of stain dried from the night before last. To her right, the guillotine stood there, her first project. She felt a wave of warmth and lust for it as she dropped her pack on the floor and kicked off her shoes. Her toes pressed against the cold concrete, but the growing warmth filled her as she padded into the workshop.

Sawdust swirled around her toes as she padded forward, one hungry hand reaching out for the guillotine. The blade was down, a single dowel rod holding it from embedding itself into the wood. After the last time, she kept is always down, safe from an accidental beheading. Her body tingled as she thought about Meris on the guillotine, her body writhing in joy. A ghost of a smile crossed her tired lips as she stroked her palms against the wood, moaning at the smooth warmth of wood.

Her eyes gazed across the steel blade, seeing her perfect reflection in the metal. The edges were smooth and still sharp, even after being dropped into the wood time and time again. It bothered her slightly and she promised herself she would ask her mother where it came from or even why her mother would send her such an item. Her smile faded as she tried to remember how many times she stood there, promising to ask her mother but somehow she never remembered to ask.

Padding forward, her fingers trailing behind on the wood, she padded across the sawdust, the tiny curls of wood catching on her toes and heels. One foot reached up to step down on the first step of her gallows, her breath quickening.

Her footsteps didn’t even shake the wood as she mounted the stairs. She felt a tightness in her chest as she caressed the smooth wood beneath, warm and sanded repeatedly. Triple-zero grit sandpaper left it almost glassy smooth, the layers of stain leaving it deliciously delicate against her bare feet.

Sonja leaned against the crossbeam, shuddering with a quiet joy when it didn’t shift or move. Instead, it stood there, holding her weight as if she was just a piece of paper. Slowly, she turned to face it, pressing her chest and hips against the thick beam. Her breasts pressed on each side, her hands stroking down it like a lover. Dancing fingers caressed toward a lever, stroking the heavy girth before pushing it down. It resisted until she bore her weight on it, then a sharp bolting noise ricocheted through the room. A massive trapdoor dropped open, crashing into a stop and leaving a gaping hole in the middle, six feet above the ground. Her body shivered with growing pleasure as she let herself drift from the beam.

Her naked feet padded around the circle, stopping right on the edge, her toes clinging to the edge. Peering down, she wondered what it would be like to feel her body dangling over the edge, only space below. She held her breath, considering dancing over the edge, then pulled herself back.

Sinking down to the edge, she sat down with her feet hanging and looked around the workshop. The room was cramped but a sense of happiness filled her. The gallows stood strongly next to the guillotine and she felt a wonderful feeling of being successful fill her. Smiling, she caressed the smooth wood and let her feet dangle, not wanting to move.

“Wow... I haven’t been down here.”

Sonja jumped as her mother’s voice filled the room and her dozing. Glancing over, she saw that her mother was in one of her more formal outfits, a black skirt and silk blouse. A faint hint of the lacy bra pushed through the fabric, which matched the same lace that no doubt edged the garters below. Despite the familiar outfit, it still felt like her mother was someone different, a stranger wearing her mother’s body.

When she didn’t respond, her mother continued to speaking, stepping in with her heels clicking on the concrete floor. Sonja felt a urge to tell her to take off her shoes, but a sudden wash of warmth filled her. Her mouth opened to snap at her mother, to tell her to go away, but the heat surged and she felt it sapping her strength. Her body sunk down hard against the wooden surface, weakness flooding through her veins as she tried to speak up.

Her mother smiled at her and stepped across the workshop, retracing Sonja’s steps and stopping by the guillotine. Her hand pushed up against the wood and Sonja felt a shiver of revulsion fill her, a strange sense of jealously that her mother would touch her wooden perfection. Sonja tried to speak, but her jaw refused to move, the heat focusing on it, squeezing her throat until it ached to breath. Her legs stopped swinging, hanging heavily down as she focused on forcing her jaw to move. The heat weakness continued to drive down her until it felt like she was melting into the wood.

Her mother spoke softly as she shoved her large breasts into the gap, right above the shimmering blade and its bracket. “Have you ever wanted to be here?”

The voice was soft, seductive, but hard at the same time. Sonja felt her head turning to watch her, her eyes focusing on the soft mounds that pushed through the space between the beams. For a moment, she wished she decided to reset the blade, so that terrible sharpness might come down and cut her mother, but the weakness grabbed her at the thought, squeezing her heart as she gasped with the effort to breath.

“Did you ever wonder what it would feel like, having your tits pressed against the wood, the blade slamming down, knowing you would lose them?”

Sonja whimpered softly, unable to budge from her place. The urge to flee rose up inside her, but the weakness was too much for her to bear.

Her mother didn’t notice her weakness and spoke softly again, “Oh... I bet you dreamed of that ever since you made this. Or of your lover, the little Meris. I bet she would scream in passion if you were holding her down... yes... I think she would.”

Her mother turned to smile at her, sticking her head through the gap as she did. Sonja felt the gaze down her spine, a wet heat that dripped and pooled at the base of her spine.

“Maybe we’ll find out... some day.”

Sonja shivered again at the look, then watched as her mother withdrew from her device and walked around. The heels rapped against the ground loudly, cutting through the seas of sawdust below. The sound grew louder as her mother climbed the stairs, filling the room with a drumbeat. Sonja turned her head to watch, but her arms and legs felt heavy and hot, boiling lead poured into every digit and limb.

“I am very impressed, such wonderful work. It always was his passion.”

Sonja could only watch as her mother walk around her, her heels loudly against the wood. The pride she felt in her own work felt dirty and disgusting when it came from her mother’s lips. For a moment, she wondered what was going wrong, how her mother’s sudden sexuality filled their lives, but somehow she felt even more divorced from her.

The weakness she felt around her scared Sonja even more.

Her body refused to move as her mother stepped down the stairs and ducked her head underneath. It came back up in the trapdoor, a smile on her mother’s lips as she looked at Sonja. “Are you all right, honey?”

Sonja wanted to scream out, but she just nodded mutely.

Her mother stroked her leg for a moment, then pressed both hands on Sonja’s inner thighs. She tried to resist, but her weakness gave no protection as she felt her legs parting. Her mother had a smile on her lips, predatory and hungry, as she stroked up inside the fabric of Sonja’s skirt, fingernails tracing a line up. At the first touch against her panties, Sonja wanted to scream out but only sighed softly, almost sexually. Her mind screamed at the bounds, unable to resist, unable to run away. Her mother’s smile never faded as she worked her fingernails underneath the fabric, tracing the line of her sex.

Sonja’s body felt hot, liquid hot, as she sunk down, her back hard against the surface of the gallows, her mother’s action invisible but burning a brand against her skin.

"Don't worry, you're going to enjoy this."

Her mother stroked along Sonja's slit again, one fingers parting her outer lips and the firm caress against her inner folds and then against her clitoris. It was light at first, but firmer as she teased Sonja's nub into hardness and then rolled it between her fingertips.

Sonja panted, unable to move, as her world focused on the fingers teasing her sex.

Her mother's fingers tugged at her clitoris, teasing it to hardness before rolling it around between her fingertips. The occasional caress of long fingernails brought little pricks of discomfort between the swells of pleasure.

Slowly, one set of fingers moved down, trailing through the delicate folds that were rapidly growing slick and down to the entrance of Sonja's pussy. Without hesitation, they slipped into the tight channel.

Sonja moaned and tried to reach down, but the heat sapped her strength. She was helpless, unable to do anything as her mother eased on finger and then a second into her pussy. The discomfort of her channel faded as she grew slick on the digits that knew exactly how to bring her pleasure. It wasn't long before the wet sounds filled the basement, punctuated by her mother's deep breaths and Sonja's helpless panting.

"Oh, that's my baby. Nice and slick for mommy."

Sonja closed her eyes, fighting against the growing pleasure and the heat that sapped her strength. It scared her as much as it turned her on, the helplessness fighting with the fear. There were already something that controlled her body, the cold, but the heat was something relatively new. It was forceful and dominating, compared to the pressure of the cold. She didn't know if it was the same force or something else.

Her thoughts were interrupted with her mother eased a third finger into her pussy, pumping faster. The pleasure of being stretched open made Sonja gasp and she strained to close her fingers into fists. Her body responded quickly to the pleasure, little flares of excitement coursing through her body.

She was going to orgasm and there was nothing she could do about it. She gasped and clenched her muscles, enjoying how her mother had to grunt to drive all three fingers into Sonja's tight cunt. The impact of slick knuckles against her opening sent a bolt of pleasure and Sonja's control faltered.

With a whimper, she fought against the orgasm. Every stroke made it harder, but also increase the intensity when it finally crested. The muscles in her legs and body fought against the heat that pinned her down, her body growing slick with sweat but she didn't know if it was her struggles or the irresistible pleasure of being finger-banged by her mother.

After a few minutes of her mother's fingering, it didn't matter anymore, as long as she came.

"Come for me," whispered her mother, "come for me, baby."

Sonja moaned helplessly. The pleasure was hard to resist and she was losing control. She wanted to drive her hips up, to meet the wet fingers that pumped deep into her body.

Her mother thrust hard, forcing all three fingers deep into Sonja's pussy.

Sonja came, a sharp explosion of pleasure that rocketed her body. She manged to arch her back as she did, crying out until her voice echoed against the wall.

Her mother continued to thrust into her until the orgasm subsided and then pulled her fingers out. Juices dribbled between Sonja's buttocks as her mother ducked out from underneath the gallows and came around to the front.

Sonja rolled her head, still unable to do anything else. Her vision was blurry from the orgasm. With her lips parted, she could only pant.

Her mother licked her own fingers and then leaned over to kiss Sonja. The taste of Sonja's pussy was strong on the kiss her mother gave her, the tongue flicking into her mouth bringing more of the taste.

Sonja could only moan into the embrace.

"Have a good night," whispered her mother before walking out.

It wasn't until the basement door closed that the heat faded and Sonja could move once again.

With a moan, Sonja sat up. She reached down and cupped her pussy, the heat and slickness tickling her palm as she held it tight.

The idea that she was fucking her mother, or more accurately her mother was fucking her, added a forbidden edge to her pleasure. But she still had not told Meris about her. She promised herself that she would find some way of breaching the topic with her other lover.

But, like asking about the blade, she somehow knew that she wouldn't remember when the time came.