SKETCHES OF A STEPMOM

Derek, don't leave just yet. Please, let's talk about this."

Ellen stared at her nineteen-year-old stepson as he glared back at her with brooding dark eyes through long black bangs.

"I'm meeting my mother. I have to go, Ellen. She's waiting outside."

These words hurt Ellen deeply. She had raised Derek from the age of nine, and all of a sudden his biological mother decides to step back into his life and Derek just lets her slip back into that role so easily. Somehow, Ellen lost the pet name he used to call her and went from 'Ma' to 'Ellen' while his birth mom suddenly became 'Mother'.

"Look, the pictures I found on my laptop, we need to talk about them."

"Listen, Ellen, I told you I'm not going to engage you on this. I won't use your stupid laptop again. My mistake. The end!"

Ellen was taken aback. Derek never spoke to her like this. She put her hand on her chest in a sign of shock, and immediately saw some regret in Derek's eyes. She was on the verge of tears.

"Look, I needed the pics for my art portfolio. I know they must have shocked you. I won't expose you to that sort of thing ever again. I hope you're not scarred for life."

Ellen wanted so badly to tell him something but just couldn't get herself tosay it. What would he think if he knew she found the pictures intriguing? How would he look at her knowing she was excited by them? In the end, she just wanted to tell him it was okay and that she didn't judge him, but he already concluded she was unnerved by the pictures. It was ironic how he so defensively assumed she was judging him, when in fact he was judging her.

Ellen looked at the young man standing in front of her. Just yesterday he was cuddling with her on the couch while they watched silly movies. Now, he stood there, tall and muscular, defiant and assuming. He had closed himself off to her and she didn't understand why.

"Derek, I just wanted to say t that-"

Ding Dong

The front door opened and Derek's other mom walked in as if she still owned the house.

"Hey there, love of my life!" Nadia had a big grin on her face and Derek lit up at the sight of her. Ellen's jealousy came through as she interrupted their special moment together.

"Hi, Nadia. Derek and I were just talking about-"

"I'll be outside, Mom." Derek cut Ellen off rudely and walked out the door. Nadia could sense Ellen's sad frustration, and although a part of her was pleased, she felt she needed to intervene.

"Ellen, can we have coffee after I'm done with Derek? I'm taking him straight to work after we have breakfast together so I can come by to have a chat. Are you okay with that?"

"I think that's a great idea." Ellen couldn't wait to give Nadia a piece of her mind. She was still stinging from Derek's shortness with her. She didn't deserve this.

"See you then." Nadia smiled and walked out the door. Ellen couldn't help but notice the similarities between Nadia and her son. They both had an exotically dark complexion. They were stunning, especially when they smiled. However Ellen hadn't seen Derek smile in months.

Ellen went over to the couch and sat down with her laptop. She navigated to the folder which had the three pictures Derek downloaded from the internet, and began browsing them again.

All three pictures were of a naked woman restrained in the shadows of a dark male figure. The one that caught her eye was the woman was bound by rope with a gag ball secured in her mouth. It wasn't as much the bindings and gag that intrigued her as it was the look of terrified pleasure on the woman's face.

Ellen took a deep breath. She had seen this image before. Not on the internet, and not exactly as portrayed here in front of her, but she had seen many elements of it. The similarities were striking.

Her body began to react in that familiar way, now that she was seeing it again. She wished so much that her physiological response was repulsion, but it was nothing close to that. The dark pleasure of submitting, being restrained, helpless at the hands of a dominant male, made her body hum deliciously. She had envisioned herself as that woman very recently. More than that, she had been having these fantasies for as long as she could remember.

Chapter 2 - A Challenge to Connect

"You know, Nadia, ever since you came back into the picture, Derek hasn't been speaking to me. He's been neglecting me and ignoring me for some reason. I've raised him for the past ten years and I don't feel I deserve this coldness. Is something going on I should know about?" Ellen raised her eyebrows challengingly as she sat across her dining room table from her husband's ex-wife, Nadia.

Nadia had a volatile temper, and even though she was in Ellen's home now, she instantly went on the attack.

"I'm his mother, Ellen, and if you're suggesting I've turned my son against you I assure you you're wrong."

"No, Nadia, I'm just saying that you've decided to be a part of his life again, which is great. But I've been in his life since he was nine, and if he's feeling torn between his mothers then I think we should be sensitive to that."

"He's nineteen now, Ellen. He's going through lots of things. Being torn between his stepmother and his mother isn't one of them, I assure you."

"So, I guess he's talking to you then. That's just swell." Ellen tried to hold in some of her jealousy, but couldn't quite manage it. Eventually she reminded herself this was about her stepson, Derek, and not about her.

"So, what are some of the things he's going through, Nadia?"

Nadia pursed her lips, not sure if she wanted to share with the woman who took her spot in the family after she decided to leave. As she reflected, she decided to share enough to let Ellen help Derek with some of the things he was experiencing. After all, she was his mother for the past ten years. She finally softened towards her.

"Listen, Ellen. Derek trusted me with some things that I really shouldn't be sharing with you. I don't know why he feels more comfortable telling me, but maybe it's because I'm not here in his life day to day. In any case, all I'll say is he's struggling with two things. The first has to do with his sexuality. The second has to do with his art."

Ellen sat back in her chair, not sure where this was going.

"On the first one, Ellen, all I'll say is that Derek is trying to reconcile what he wants with what girls his age are looking for. I can tell you that Derek is special, and his ideas of a sexual relationship don't exactly align with what girls his age are willing to provide."

Ellen couldn't help but struggle with her disappointment that Derek didn't open up to her with this information. She pried a bit further.

"Can you tell me something about exactly what it is he needs?"

"Ellen, I promised him I wouldn't speak about it. You and his father, John, come from a very conservative background. Derek feels that you would view him differently if you knew what he was exploring. I don't know you well enough, but I know his father is more like you than like me, and John would certainly pass judgment on Derek. Some of the things Derek's discovering about himself are, I'll just say, not traditionally viewed as part of healthy sexual relations between traditional men and women."

Ellen thought about her own secret fantasies as she tried to absorb this, and once again couldn't help but feel she was being labeled as 'close minded'.

"Is what he's looking for dangerous? Is he going to get arrested for it? What is it?"

"Ellen, don't be silly. You know Derek would never do anything that wasn't consensual. He has the utmost respect for women. It's just that none of the girls his age would ever consent to what he's looking for."

Ellen thought back to the picture Derek downloaded onto her computer. The image of the woman, bound and gagged, was stuck in her head.

"Ellen, let's just say he's developed my flare for the unique and unusual, and leave it at that."

Ellen found it hard not to be surprised by Nadia's candidness. "What do you mean by 'your flare for the unique and unusual'?"

"Oh, come on, Ellen. Didn't John give you details about our break-up?"

"He told me you fought a lot."

"Well, the fighting certainly didn't help. But didn't he tell you anything about my ideas for making up?"

"No, he didn't." Ellen was curt.

"Well, it was just another area of incompatibility between the two of us that was the last straw. And knowing that, I find it very difficult to believe John will accept Derek if he finds out Derek has the same sexual 'curiosities' as me. That's all I'm going to say on this. If you want more information, you'll have to speak with John."

Ellen mulled over this little insight Nadia threw her way. She knew John had hang-ups when it came to sex, but she thought most men were like this. She always believed the sexual fantasies that tormented her were abnormal, and never considered John's lack of imagination being an issue. She looked at Nadia in a different light now, and the thought that they were perhaps more alike than they were different shocked her.

"Okay, Nadia. Thanks for sharing. I'll respect your confidence. What was the second thing going on with Derek? About his art?"

"Oh, he's really wanting to get into this art school at the end of the summer. I don't know if you've seen his art, but it's really unique and risqué. He's having trouble putting his portfolio together. If you really want to help out, then ask him how. I'm sure he would be more than happy for you to assist." Nadia gave Ellen a devious smirk.

"Why do I get the sense you're setting me up for something, Nadia?"

"Hey, you said you wanted to become more connected with him, not me. Perhaps this is a way."

"Then I will." Ellen knew Nadia didn't think she could help Derek out with his risqué art, and this made her even more determined to prove her wrong.

"Great. Good luck to you." Nadia's smile had a smugness to it that baited Ellen, and as she got up to leave Ellen couldn't resist her urge to say something.

"You know, Nadia, I think you'd be surprised at how much Derek and I are alike. I'm going to show you I can relate to him and help him out."

As Nadia brushed past her towards the front door, she said "If you were anything like him, then that would mean you're a lot like me. You and John wouldn't still be together if you were a lot like me."

Ellen stood speechless as Nadia walked out the front door. She didn't know what to say. She had no comeback for Nadia. In fact, Nadia had struck a chord with what she said. Unknowingly, she tapped into one of Ellen's worst fears. If John ever found out about the fantasies she had been having, he would leave her. She always made sure she did a good job of hiding her filthy desires.

Ever since Ellen was a girl, she had sexual fantasies about being controlled, about being taken by a man with no regard for her will and having his way with her. She dreamed about submitting to the selfish desires of another, and becoming a dirty, filthy woman who groaned and drooled at the torturous pleasures bestowed upon her by her dominant alpha-male partner. She didn't understand where her fantasies came from, but she knew she had a deep, dark obsession that yearned to be tied, bound, owned by another male. That dark part hidden deep inside of her didn't want her body to make love, it wanted her to body to be used as an instrument for pleasure.

If John ever found out, he would leave her in a second. Who knew what Nadia's sexual curiosities were, but they couldn't have been more shocking than hers, and it still drove Nadia and John apart. Even though the urges were getting darker and bubbling up more and more in Ellen's dreams and fantasies, she still kept the lid on them tighter than Nadia must have.

As Ellen looked at the door, she wondered how long it would be until her lurid fantasy obsessions surfaced and blended with her reality.

Chapter 3 - A Sketch of Desire

"Derek, don't just walk by and disappear to your room in the basement. What's going on, hon? Why don't you talk to me anymore?"

Ellen's stepson routinely walked in through the front door after he came home from his summer job and just disappeared until his father came home, which was usually later on in the evening.

"Hi, Ellen." Again, Ellen felt the sting of being called that -- Ellen. It seemed so cold for the boy she raised from nine to nineteen.

"Really, Derry, what can I do to reconnect with you?"

Derek pushed his thick black hair from his face and looked at her through dark probing eyes. "I'm busy doing stuff, that's all."

"Like what?"

"You know, painting, sketching, trying to put together a portfolio that'll get me into art school."

"You know, Derek, I spoke with Nadia today and she told me you were having some challenges getting your portfolio done. I bet I can help. Is there something I can do?"

Derek seemed speechless. He stood there trying to figure out exactly what it was that his mother shared with his stepmom. He knew she had a cruel sense of humor.

"I'm afraid she was just pulling your leg, Ellen. I'm working on some personal pieces that require a nude model."

"Oh, well..." Ellen's voice raised a pitch. As much as she wanted to help, posing naked in front of her stepson wasn't exactly what she imagined. She began to feel herself flush and wondered what the physical reaction was all about. This was more than awkwardness.

"It's okay, Ellen. I'm not looking to sketch you naked." Derek continued past her towards the door to the basement.

"Well, could you just use me if I modeled wearing shorts and a bra? It would be just like wearing a bikini."

Derek hesitated at the door. To Ellen's surprise, he stood there contemplating this. "I could. But you know what, Ellen, forget about it. It's not only the nudity, it's also the poses."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think you'd be up to it. They're kinda racy. You may find them offensive, just like the picture I downloaded on your laptop. I don't want to have to go through that again."

Now Ellen understood why Nadia had that stupid grin on her face. Whatever Derek was exploring sexually was coming through in his art. She smiled nervously. She still had to prove to both Derek and Nadia that she was open minded.

"Well that's where you've got me wrong. I have as much as an open mind as does your other mother. I'll prove it to you. Go get your things and meet me in the living room."

Derek gave her an amused look and disappeared to get his art supplies. Ellen went upstairs to her room to change, wondering exactly what it was she just got herself in to.

While Derek set up in the living room, Ellen examined herself in the mirror. She knew she had to wear skimpy shorts and a bra so Derek could later fill in the blanks and make his sketch a true nude, but looking at herself in the mirror she realized she didn't consider some of the reactions her body was now giving off. Her mind flashed to the picture of that woman, bound and gagged -- but this time the lusting, anguished look on the woman's face was her own. Her nipples tightened against the soft cotton of her bra and budded outwards, and she was suddenly aware of the soft underwear cupping the sex between her legs.

Why are my nipples so perked? Why am I so aroused? This is wrong. This is so wrong.

Derek called up, "Hey Ellen, are you coming?"

Am I coming? Her mind processed this question in a number of ways and she quickly snapped herself out of it.

What the heck is happening to me?

"I'll be right down, Derek!"

Ellen raced back into her closet and changed her bra for one that wouldn't expose her physiological response to - to whatever it was she was getting all horny about. She couldn't really figure it out. When she walked back down to the living room Derek was there waiting for her, sitting on a chair facing the couch with his sketch pad in his hand. She felt a little self-conscious in her mini shorts and bra. She noticed Derek had started a fire in the fireplace and had taken his shirt off.

"A fire? In the fall? It's cold outside but not that cold, Derek. It feels like a sauna in here."

"Trust me, if you're gonna sit still in a bra and shorts for an hour, you're gonna get chilly. The heat will keep you comfortable. It's more relaxing, too. I like sketching like this."

Ellen looked at his muscles. She never realized how chiseled Derek became over the course of the year. It must have had something to do with all the manual labor he did through his summer job. She looked at the veins lining the muscles that bulged gently from his neck, arms, and chest. She caught one that danced across his abdomen and disappeared into the hem of his pants. A wall of heat suddenly hit her, and she walked to the couch to sit down.

"You could get comfortable on the couch while I get myself set up with my charcoal, brush and paper." Derek reached into his supplies bag and fished around while Ellen sat herself down. She felt the soft cushions of the couch with the palm of her hand. The room was getting nice and warm, and she was partly tempted to lay back and take a nap.

"Okay, I have all I need for now." Derek sat with his sketch pad in front of him and charcoal in hand. He tucked his paint brush in his jean pocket to touch up his sketch with color later.

Ellen took in the sight of her stepson. He had swept his hair from his face and she noticed how beautiful his dark eyes looked when they were focused only on her. She looked at his youthful lips. They were masculine yet gentle.

"For the pose I'm doing, I need you lying on your side."

Ellen looked at him quizzically, and proceeded to comply. She could do this.

"Okay, now put your wrists together in front of you and connect your ankles."

"Derek, exactly what are you going to sketch?" The sexual interests Nadia was talking about were starting to reveal themselves slowly.

"I'd rather not say. Bring your knees up a little so you're only taking up half of the couch, then hold it there. I want to get your lines on paper."

Ellen held her position, frozen by Derek's instruction. She was excited at being directed by him. She had never had anyone take control of her like this, and submitting to his commands aroused her. The heat in the room mixed with her own and consumed her.

"Tilt your head up a little and relax. If you're comfortable, then I'll ask that you hold it there for the next half hour or so. Is that okay?"

"Yes. That's fine." Ellen began to relax and enjoy the warmth of the air and softness of the couch on her skin. With her legs drawn together and her wrists and elbows connected in front of her chest, she knew the heat rising from between her thighs and through her nipples was well concealed. Her reaction to Derek was completely inappropriate, and she felt more confident that her body wasn't going to give her away. She let her eyelids close half way. She was beginning to feel drowsy. She looked at his thick eyebrows holding a concentrated expression as he sketched his preliminary lines. His mouth was slightly open and she could see the ridge of his tongue as it rested gently against the roof of his mouth. She watched his lips they parted to say something to her."You look great."

Ellen flushed. This was the nicest thing Derek had said to her for some time now. She struggled with what she was feeling -- was it acceptance or something else? She felt like she was melting into the couch.

"Can we talk while you sketch, Derek?"

"Sure. What did you want to talk about?"

"Anything. We just don't talk much anymore."

Derek kept glancing at different parts of her body and transposing them to his canvass.

"Ellen, I'm just going through some stuff right now, stuff I don't really want to talk about."

"Why don't we start with what you're sketching?"

"I don't think you really want to know. Part of it has to do with sexuality, and you and I have never really tested those waters. You won't understand it."

Ellen was tired of being treated like the small-minded little stepmom. She could feel the heat of hurtful frustration rise to her face.

"You know, Derek, you and your other mother are so judgmental. How do you know what I'm capable of thinking?"

"What do you mean?"

"I think you'd be surprised at how much I understand and can relate to you. I know you think I'm a prude, but maybe you've never asked yourself whether I, as an adult and not as your stepmom, am capable of being open minded. I'm lying here right now, half naked and posing for my stepson for crying out loud."

"That's what I mean, Ellen. It's only half way with you. I don't want to have any more half way conversations with you."

"Fine then. Let's not do half way anymore, let's go all the way." Ellen sat up, reached behind her back, and unclasped her bra. She stood up and let if fall from her breasts while she hooked her fingers into her shorts and underwear and slid them off her waist. She picked up her clothing and tossed them at Derek before sitting on the couch again. Her bra landed at his feet, but her underwear hung over his face. Derek took them from his head and dangled them in front of him. He was amused, but still didn't seem satisfied. He looked at his naked stepmother challengingly.

"Okay, but that's still not all the way." He reached into his bag and took out some rope. "I need my model to be tied at the wrists and ankles. Can you handle that?"

Ellen smiled casually. "Handle it? I fantasize about it every day." The huskiness in her voice overwhelmed her smugness, and as Derek walked over to her she sat up and held her wrists upward. "I guess I know what you're sketching now."

Derek looked down at her as he secured her wrists. "It's not what I'm sketching, it's what I'm trying to capture through my art."

"And you're trying to capture more than just a woman being bound?" Ellen rested her palms on Derek's bare chest while he worked the rope around her wrists. Her heart began to race as he finished tying her arms and kneeled between her legs and began on her ankles. He had a perfect view of her nakedness, and the fact that she could no longer prevent herself from being exposed made her extremely horny. The same feelings that stirred her in her fantasies were beginning to take a hold of her.

"It's more than simple bondage, Ellen." When Derek finished tying her ankles together, he rose in front of her and pushed her roughly from the side so she lay back in her initial fetal position.

Ellen gasped loudly, both shocked and aroused at Derek's sudden forcefulness.

"That's what I'm trying to capture. Reaction."

"Well, I could give you reaction, Derek. I can play the part. Do you want me to?" Ellen's voice was deep and throaty, and she looked up and stared Derek in the eyes. He looked different all of a sudden. His whole demeanor changed. It was as if he just realized his timid, reserved stepmom had other layers to her, layers which interested him, depths which he had been searching for.

"Admit it, Derek, there's more to me than what you thought."

Derek took his brush from his pocket and ran it from her elbow to her shoulder. He bent down so they were face to face and swept it across her chin. She spoke quietly into his probing face. Her heart was racing.

"Admit it, Derek. You didn't think I could play the part, did you?"

Without answering her he turned the brush around and ran the wooden tip of the end along her jaw line, then her cheek. He circled her mouth with it and when he began to trace her lips, Ellen opened her mouth and drew the shaft inside with her tongue. She looked at him while she sucked it and her eyes flittered slightly.

Ellen watched herself from afar as she lay on the couch, tied with rope, sucking on her stepson's tool seductively. She told herself she was playing the part. He wanted reaction, and she was giving it to him.

Derek prodded her for more. He slipped the brush from between her lips and pulled the rope from her ankles, lifting her legs so her thighs rested against his chest and her bound ankles dangled over his shoulder.

"Oh!"

Derek grabbed her buttock in his palm and spread her aside with one hand. Ellen urgently tried to cover her exposure but was helplessly tied at the wrists. She kicked her legs and squirmed, but this just caused her to shift more against Derek and rub her pussy against the bulge in his jeans. She was so wet it was shameful.

Derek slid the brush from the back of her knee down her thigh and towards her centre. He watched her face while he slid the length of the brush inside her wet slit and twisted and turned it over her clit. Ellen bit down on her bottom lip and turned her head to hide her reaction. Her body twisted and jerked as he played with her, and when he pressed the end of the brush into her she moaned.

"Mmmmm, Derek...uh....uh.....uh....." She emitted short breaths in response to Derek slowly penetrating her with the brush. He pushed it inside her until his thumb rested against the nub of her hardened clit. He rubbed the surface in circular motions as he moved the brush inside her, and Ellen began moving with him.

Ellen watched as he raised the paint brush and held it against his lips, breathing in her essence before tasting her from the smooth wooden grip. He grabbed her by the side of her head and brought her face next to his. Next she opened her mouth and accepted his lips onto hers. She could taste her come in his mouth and she sucked her sweet juices off his tongue.

Derek let her legs roll gently off his shoulders so she was resting on her side again. At some point he had managed to take his jeans off, and now Ellen looked at him in shock as he climbed onto the couch and kneeled at her feet. His large member was erect and pointing at her hungrily.

"Derek, this isn't-"

Derek rolled her onto her stomach, yanked her hips into the air and spread her cheeks open to his cock.

"Oh! God, Derek-"

He pressed the side of her face into the couch and plunged into her wetness. Ellen could feel the tip of the brush circle her anus while Derek pressed into her repeatedly. The sounds of their bodies suctioning together created a rhythmic music along with Ellen's uncontrollable gasps of filthy pleasure. Her muscles twitched and tightened as he churned his shaft inside her tight hole.

The whole time they were moving together, Ellen could feel Derek's eyes on her. He was watching her reactions, studying them, committing them to memory. He shifted their bodies on the couch so they were spooning, and turned her face to his and watched shallow breaths release themselves from her open mouth in rhythm to the cadence of his thrusting. Her bound wrists took hold of his hand and brought it to her mouth. She pressed it against her face and found his thumb. She sucked on it eagerly while Derek continued pumping her for reactions. Her body tightened around his shaft as her climax built within her.

"Mmmmmm...." Ellen moaned with Derek's thumb in her mouth. The rope around her wrists and ankle kept her secure in the curvature of his body as he moved inside her. His warmth generated a perspiration which lubricated the movement of her buttocks inside the crook of his pelvis.

"Mmmmm..."

"Ellen. I'm done."

"Hmmmm?"

"Ellen, wake up. I'm done."

Ellen's eyes shot open. She was lying on her side on the couch, still in a fetal position and sucking on her own fingers. Derek sat across from her on a chair with his sketch pad in hand. She quickly checked her wrists and found that there was no rope tying them together. She sat up and confirmed her ankles were free as well. She still wore her bra and shorts. Elements of her dream were merging with reality. She could taste herself off her fingers and wondered at what point it was that she actually touched herself.

"The heat must have knocked me out," she said nervously."

Derek looked at her, amused.

"How'd your sketch turn out?"

"Good. Thanks for helping."

"Can I see what you sketched?" Ellen looked at Derek searchingly, trying to figure out what just went on, and how much he witnessed.

"Not now. Maybe later. Thanks."

Thanks? That was it? Ellen was disappointed but couldn't help but feel relieved when Derek collected his things and disappeared into the basement. She had an overwhelming sense of defeat as she slowly got up from the couch and went upstairs to put on the rest of her clothing. She was sad to see the continuation of Derek's brooding coldness. She didn't make the advances she thought she would, but she also revealed something through a dream she wished she never had.

JOURNAL ENTRY

It all started with a picture. A photo. An image of me, conjured by my mind and discovered by my stepson. Bound and gagged. Dominated and seduced. We are indeed connected through our darkness.

His is a desire to own his women, seduce them with control. Mine is a yearning to submit, to be taken and manipulated for pleasure. Collectively our lusts sear together in an illicit bond.

He is my stepson, and this is wrong. Everything inside me tells me these feelings are absolutely forbidden. But my I can't seem to forget how I became his art today as he manipulated my body for his own purpose. I don't know how much he was made aware of, but something happened in front of him while I posed. I could taste the evidence of my own filthy mind on my finger tips.

I'm terrified at what has surfaced within me today. It's always been there, but today it rose from beneath my control; it was spurred by the desires of my stepson and took over my mind and body. I pray I can curb it once again, before it's discovered. I'm not willing to destroy my relationship with the husband I love so much for the sake of his son. Yet I'm drawn by Derek's yearnings.

Heaven help me.