Chapter 51: New Covenant
Time seemed to stop in my messy room. I was still sitting on the bed, my lower body naked, my eyes staring blankly into space. The feeling of my mother’s soft, moist lips was still hot, tingling unbelievably on my skin. Was it real? My mother… my noble, beautiful mother… had really used her mouth to “examine” me?
In my daze, my mother slowly rose. She did not rush, did not falter. Every movement exuded poise, absolute control. Her cream silk dress fell down again, concealing her long legs, but the image of her kneeling before me was forever etched in my mind. She stood there, arms folded across her full breasts, looking down at her son, who lay dazed on the bed. Her eyes no longer held the sorrow, but the focused, analytical look of someone who had just made an important diagnosis.
my mother began pacing the room, her bare feet softly gliding across the wooden floor. She was like a general plotting her strategy before the decisive battle, and I was her entire battlefield.
“I looked at it,” she continued, her voice steady as if reading a report. “It has scars, yes. The accident left marks. It might look a little different after this…”
She stopped, turned to look at me, and a mysterious, almost proud smile appeared on her lips.
“…but that’s not a bad thing, Huy.”
She came closer and sat on the edge of the bed, facing me. She leaned forward, and her seductive feminine scent filled my nostrils again.
“You are your father’s son. I know best how big and rough his cock is. His genes are in you. Yours, if properly cared for, will be no less.”
She said the word “dick” so naturally, so bluntly, as if she were talking about eye color or height. The frankness made me blush, but at the same time it instilled a sick pride in me. Mom was comparing me to Dad. She was acknowledging my “potential.” I suddenly remembered the images I’d seen on the camera, the dark, veiny monster that had tormented Mom, and the thought that mine could become like that made my lower body twitch slightly.
“Even,” she continued, her voice whispering magically, “with this scar, it becomes even more special. A unique mark. When it truly awakens and grows up, it will be a powerful weapon to conquer women in the future. They will never forget it.”
I gasped. My mother… was talking about the future of my penis? Was she imagining it conquering other girls? The scar that I had always considered a mark of disability, of impotence, had now become, through her words, a “personal mark”? Her logic was bizarre, but it had an irresistible appeal. She wasn’t just healing me. She was “forging” me a weapon.
“But for it to become a weapon,” my mother said sternly, “it must first be sharpened. It cannot remain a soft, pitiful lump of flesh like this forever. Indirect stimulation through observation is no longer enough. It needs a direct and specific ‘treatment regimen’.”
She looked me straight in the eye, and began to announce a new covenant, a covenant that would completely reshape my life.
“Listen carefully, Huy. This is our agreement.”
“First, about the ‘care,’” she emphasized the word. “I will use my mouth to ‘wake’ it up, to get the blood flowing, to get it used to the stimulation. But it won’t be all the time. You need to stay healthy to study. We’ll do this twice a week. Wednesday and Sunday evenings. Just twice, no more, no less.”
*Wednesday and Sunday.* I repeated in my head. A set schedule. A sacred ritual. Those two dates instantly became the most important holidays in my life.
“Second, about interaction,” she held up two fingers. “You are allowed to touch me. But!” Her voice hardened. “Only with my permission. And only in places I designate. This is a lesson for you to learn to control your desires, not to satisfy you. Do you understand?”
I nodded vigorously. To be able to touch my mother. Even if I could, it was a dream I never dared to think of. The image of my mother’s plump breasts and sexy buttocks appeared in my mind again, and I felt dizzy.
“And third,” she continued, “you will continue to watch me. Watch me with your father, or maybe with other people. So that ‘it’ can see the goal it needs to strive for. So that it knows what a real cock is, and what it should be.”
After she finished speaking, the whole room fell into silence. Only my heavy breathing remained. A detailed plan, a clear roadmap for the downfall of both mother and child , had just been clearly outlined, logical to the point of absurdity.
My mother looked at her stunned son, smiling softly. She reached over and placed her hand on my cheek.
“So… do you agree with this ‘cure’ of mine?”
I couldn’t say a word. I could only nod, a resolute nod, entrusting my entire body and soul to the woman before me.
“Good boy.” My mother’s smile widened. It was the satisfied smile of a mother when her child takes medicine, even if the pill is sugar-coated poison.
She bent down. I closed my eyes, waiting.
My body reacted before my mind could process it. My cock, which had just been called “underdeveloped,” began to perk up, quivering with excitement and anticipation.
I was about to speak, about nodding, about begging her to start right away. But, she shook her head.
“But not now.”
Those words were like a bucket of ice water poured on the fire that had just flared up inside me. My cock immediately deflated, becoming limp again. Why? Why give me hope and then crush it so cruelly?
“Why…?” I stammered.
Mom came over and sat down on the edge of the bed, right next to me. She reached up and gently stroked my cheek. The warmth of her palm was comforting.
“The citywide speech contest is next week,” she said, her voice soft again. “This is my passion, my honor. I need to give it my full attention. I can’t be distracted. And I need you to too. I need you to give me your full support, just like I’m giving you my full support for your treatment. Do you understand?”
I looked into my mother’s eyes. I didn’t see deception. I saw determination. She was serious about this competition. And she was serious about “curing” me.
“Consider this a challenge,” she continued. “A wait. A test of your patience.”
She leaned closer, so close that I could see my own image, small and pitiful, in her black eyes. Her voice was a whisper, like a sweet curse, her breath hot in my ear.
“After the competition ended, after mom and the team returned home victorious…”
She paused for a moment, letting the anticipation seep into my every cell.
“…Mommy will spend all her time carrying out this ‘procedure’. I promise. It will be her **reward** for her victory, and also her reward for your obedient waiting.”
Award.
The word exploded in my head. The disappointment from earlier vanished, replaced by an even more intense excitement. This waiting was no longer a punishment. It was a prelude. A week. Seven days. Seven days to imagine, to yearn, to build the anticipation to a climax.
I was about to nod, but Mom acted first.
She took my chin, and kissed me.
Not a peck on the forehead. But a real kiss on the lips. Her soft, red lips pressed against mine. Then she opened her mouth, and her skilled tongue, the one that had just “examined” me, slid boldly into my mouth. It entwined with mine, teasing, caressing. The kiss was deep and wet, carrying the sweetness of wine and a hint of salt that I knew was mine.
My mind went blank. I was lost in that kiss, in the scent of my mother, in the soft feel of her lips and tongue. This was not a mother’s kiss. This was the kiss of a lover, a master, a goddess sealing a pact with her own skin.
When she pulled away, I was gasping for breath, my whole body limp.
“Be good. Wait for me,” she whispered one last time, then stood up, turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with my mixed emotions.
I collapsed on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. My cock was hard again, throbbing with need. One week. Seven days. The damn contest. I hated it, prayed for it to happen, and prayed for my mother to win. Because the reward would be better than anything else in the world.