Family Ties

Miriam smiled approvingly at Chloe when she saw Simon wearing the silk blouse. She was even more pleased by the strong floral scent of Chloe's perfume clinging to him as he walked past, a clear, possessive mark. She gently rubbed her hand over Simon's shoulder as she passed him. "It's so nice to see you two kids in the same room again. I've missed this."

She put the kettle on to make herself a cup of tea. "Whose idea was the blouse?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eye. "Or do you have something to tell us all, Simon?"

"Er, it was Chloe," he stammered, "she said it would be better for my back."

"Smart thinking, Chloe," Miriam said, though her tone suggested she would have preferred him to be more vulnerable. "I would have preferred you not to wear anything, Simon, but this is a good compromise."

Chloe smiled. "Where do you want Simon to put your cases, Mum?"

Simon looked up, realizing he was being volunteered for the task without his consent.

"Oh, I think your father's room," Miriam said smoothly. She went over and hugged Simon, kissing him on the head like a mother. "If that's all right with you, Simon?"

"Well, I still have a few things to go through, so I'm not sure," he began to protest.

"What things, Simon?" she cut in, her voice sharpening. "We used to be married, remember. Maybe I should be the one to go through them. I'd hate for you to find out any more unsavory secrets about your father." He hesitated for a second, and she pounced. "Good, that's settled. If you could take my cases up this morning, that would be great." She kissed his head again, a final, dismissive stamp of her authority.

Simon was sweating as he carried the last of the cases up to his father's bedroom. He was getting annoyed by his sister's constant, nitpicking instructions from the doorway. He threw the last case down in a temper, the thud echoing through the large, quiet room. "That's enough!" he shouted. "The least you could do is help instead of just watching and complaining!"

"Oh, I'm very sorry," she said sarcastically, hands on her hips. "I just thought you'd like to get it right for Mum. I know how she likes things done just right."

He took a few deep breaths, trying to control his anger. "Well, of course I do, but you don't need to keep on all the time."

"I'm sorry, Simon," she said, her voice suddenly softening. She looked down, a masterful display of contrition. "I'm used to ordering people around at work, and all this is new to me, too, you know. Being dragged away from my home to stay with a brother who doesn't even want to know me." She let out a silent sob, her shoulders shaking, and hung her head. She smiled inwardly as he immediately softened, his anger melting under the weight of her perceived hurt.

He gently touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry, but that's not true," he said. "He wouldn't let me keep in contact with you or with mum."

Her hand went around the back of his neck, and she lifted her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she smiled at him. "I've missed you so much," she whispered, and her lips met his in a soft, gentle kiss. Her tongue darted out, licking his lips, a tantalizing, forbidden promise. His cock throbbed in his silk panties, and she felt it press against her thigh, the drug Miriam had given him still working its magic.

Chloe jerked back, her expression one of shock and horror. "I'm so sorry, Simon. I don't know what came over me," she gasped. She turned and hurried out the door, leaving Simon standing there, utterly confused and aroused. That's when his phone rang.

"Hello, boy. Have you missed me?" The voice was a cold, metallic purr, and Simon's face went white as his stomach churned with familiar dread.

"What do you want?" he stuttered, his newfound confidence evaporating in an instant.

"You know what we want; you owe us."

He puffed out his chest, strengthened by the thought that his mum was just downstairs. "Listen, this has gone far enough."

The laughter that came back was harsh and mocking. "Are you feeling like a big, brave boy, because mummy and sister are there to protect you?"

He stared at the phone in shock. Of course, they were watching him. "Leave them alone," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "They have nothing to do with my father's debts."

"That will be up to you, boy. Either you meet my driver at the same time and place tonight, or face the consequences." The phone went dead, leaving him with a dial tone and a wave of pure terror.

Downstairs, Miriam smiled as she looked at her phone. She sent Simon a picture of Chloe carrying a suitcase into his father's house that morning, taken on her business phone. The timing was perfect. She would rescue him tonight, and then the next stage of their plan would begin. A few minutes later, she heard him on the stairs. He came into the kitchen, and she looked up from the food she was preparing. Chloe looked at her and smiled.

"What's up, Simon?" Miriam asked, her voice a carefully constructed blend of concern and innocence. She could see he was shaken, his face pale and his hands trembling.

"Nothing, just something came up."

"Simon, come on now," she pressed gently. "Look, you're shaking. You can tell us anything."

"It's them," he whispered, his voice cracking. "They just called me."

"Who's them, Simon?" Miriam asked, trying to draw out as much discomfort as she could, savoring his public fear.

"This... Mistress Genevieve."

"Is that the bitch who hurt you?" Chloe chimed in, her voice tight with feigned anger.

He nodded, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Come here," Miriam said, putting her arms around him in a protective embrace. "Get Simon a bottle of water, could you, Chloe?"

Chloe went to the fridge and took out a previously prepared bottle, handing it to her mother. "Here, Simon," Miriam said, holding it to his lips. "Take a nice big drink of this." He nodded, mumbled his thanks, and drank deeply of the spiked water, the sedative already beginning to dull the edges of his panic.

"Now tell us what she said, and don't leave anything out," Miriam commanded softly.

Simon told them everything about the phone call, the threat, and the demand to meet the driver.

Miriam sat him down on the sofa, holding his hands in hers and leaning forward, her expression deadly serious. "This is what we'll do: you go to the meeting."

"No," Simon cried, his voice rising in panic. "I can't."

"Shh, now, hear me out," she soothed. "You go to the meeting, and we will follow behind you. We'll see where he takes you, and then we'll either come and get you or call the police." She kissed him on the cheek, and his cock twitched involuntarily at the intimate contact. "Trust me, Simon," she whispered. "It will all work out.”

The rest of the day was a blur to Simon, his mind clouded by fear. He had agreed to go along with his mother's plan, his will to resist eroded by their constant reassurance and manipulation. He showered around five, and as he soaped himself, his erection came alive, a persistent, traitorous response to the stress. He touched his lips, the ghost of his sister's kiss sending a jolt through him. "What the fuck is up with me?" he muttered to himself as he began to stroke himself, pulling himself to the memory of that forbidden kiss. A powerful orgasm left him weak-kneed and gasping. He watched his spent come swirl down the sink, disgusted with himself.

He dried and dressed in normal clothes and underwear, a small victory he had won in an argument with his mother. He had insisted, explaining that the last time he was made to strip as soon as he arrived.

His mother and Chloe left five minutes before him, claiming they needed to get into position. He left at 6:50, walking toward the corner. As he walked, he realized he had no idea what kind of car his mother drove. He stood at the same corner as before and looked around at the cars parked nearby. A beaten-up blue Mini Cooper was parked under the trees on Bakers Walk. He thought he saw two people inside, watching him. He felt the urge to wave, but decided against it, feeling a strange sense of security knowing they were there, watching out for him.

The Mercedes pulled up exactly on time, the passenger door swinging open from the inside. As he climbed in, the driver, David, silently handed him the blackout glasses. The world went black.

The routine upon his arrival was the same; he was made to strip. This time, though, the restraints were different. His hands were cuffed in front of him, a heavy collar was padlocked to his neck, and a tight rubber hood was pulled over his head. A gag was forced through the mouth opening in the mask and strapped tightly around his head, silencing him completely.

The driver dragged him through the house and, as Simon assumed, into the same room. His arms were raised and secured to a hook from the ceiling. An electric motor whirred, lifting him by his wrists until he was stretched onto his tiptoes, his weight pulling painfully at his shoulders. He heard more footsteps enter the room and other noises he couldn't identify, a symphony of his own terror.

Miriam looked at her son, hanging helplessly, a picture of perfect submission. She took David's hand, kissed him hard, and whispered a thank-you for his help, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she admired their work.

Simon heard footsteps approaching from the front. Something freezing cold was sprayed onto his groin, and he twisted in the air as the shock of cold quickly gave way to searing, burning heat. Something slick and oily was rubbed around his shrunken cock and balls. His balls were pulled forward, and something cold and metallic was slid over his cock. There was a sharp click, and his cock was released, dropping heavily between his legs. He could feel an alien metal ring encircling the base. The ring around his balls tightened slightly, then released, followed by a faint electronic beep. He tried to speak, to ask what was happening, but only a muffled gurgling sound came from behind the gag.

Then he let out a muffled scream as his cock and balls suddenly felt as if they were on fire, a wave of intense, electric pain radiating through his entire body.

Miriam smiled at Chloe as she pressed the icon on her phone, the device in her hand a remote control for the new toy locked onto her son. They hugged tightly, watching with satisfaction as Simon twitched and convulsed in the air, a puppet dancing on their strings. Chloe looked up at her mother, and they kissed hard, a passionate, celebratory kiss.

"Can I do it?" Chloe asked Miriam, her eyes gleaming with predatory excitement. Her mother nodded.

Chloe picked up the cane from the table and walked toward her helpless, dangling brother.