The Unknown Object
Chapter IV
Mom stopped midstride, her hands dropped, her head drooped to one side.
Shit, what did I just do? Tim hadn’t really thought about it, he’d just reacted. Still, at least now maybe he could fix things.
“M-mom, turn around, and come back into my room.”
She did so, walking with a slow, lagging stride. As soon as she was in the room, Tim went in as well, locking it behind him.
Suddenly, he became aware of the fact that the windows were wide open. If anyone happened to look in, they might not be able to tell exactly what was going on, but Tim didn’t want to take the chance. He locked the windows and closed the curtains.
He paused, took a deep breath. Faced the wall, almost afraid to look back and see his mom, afraid to see what he’d just done.
For some reason, his heart was beating like a jackhammer. He could feel it in his throat, almost.
“Okay, Tim,” he told himself, “This is no big deal. This is just like Eddie and Mr. Hudson. You just have to give her instructions, release her, and that’s it.”
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Think of instructions.
He still hadn’t look back, ashamed at what he’d so thoughtlessly done.
Instructions should be something simple…figure out a way to get her to both fix the phone and pay for the AC repair. Make her realize that it was an accident, it wasn’t my fault.
He inhaled through his nose, held it in his diaphragm, breathed out through his mouth, remembering the breathing techniques that he’d seen his Mom do when she practiced yoga.
Finally, after a few moments, he felt calm enough, and turned around.
His Mom was standing there, in her leggings and singlet, head drooping to one side, arms hanging limply at each side. She still had his cell phone in her hand.
First things first.
“Mom, please give me back my cell phone.”
Mom raised her arm, passed him the phone, then dropped her arm again once he’d grabbed it.
He looked at her. It was so weird. She was just…standing there. His mom, usually so filled with energy, a big smile on her face, just standing there like a zombie.
He took her in for a moment. Her brown hair, tied up in a ponytail. Her brown eyes, looking dazed and hollow, not looking at him, or at anywhere in particular. A few laugh lines around her eyes. Small nose. Small mouth.
Tim had never realized how much his Mom looked like his sister Heather. Same hair, the shape of their eyes, similar facial structure…same lips…
The areas they differed in were more visible from the neck down. Unlike Heather, who had the slim, fit body of an athlete, his mom had a more…generous…bust. Her body was curvier, more mature. Since she was wearing the singlet and leggings, Tim could see it quite clearly. And since she was under control, he could stare at her as much as he wanted and not worry that she was going to be upset, not be scared that he was going to look like a pervert.
He thought back to that picture of Dr. Müller and his young bride, Elizabeth Duvivier. He wondered how Müller had found her, how she’d felt about him before he hit her with the ray from the gun. Did she think he was a disgusting old man? Did she think he was a pervert? You wouldn’t be able to tell from the wedding pictures or what Google said about her life—she’d loved him, truly, genuinely loved him.
You can make anyone feel anything you want…think anything you want…it doesn’t matter who they are…it doesn’t matter…
Tim felt the tightness around the front of his pants before he realized that his erection, which had never fully gone down, was now rock hard once again.
He looked at his mom again, swallowed.
His problem all day had been that he could never get someone alone.
Now, here was an attractive woman, alone in his room.
Tim shook his head. I can’t believe I’m even considering something like this.
Besides, he told himself, his sister would be home soon.
He looked at the broken phone, in his hand. His mom had said that she wanted to teach him a lesson in responsibility. She’d always been big on using mistakes as lessons. What she called ‘teachable moments.’
A lesson, huh…
He made up his mind.
“Mom, listen up…”
Tim didn’t come down to dinner that night, made the excuse that he was too tired.
The truth was, he couldn’t look at his mom’s face. Not tonight, at least. Tomorrow, he’d know if his suggestions had worked.
That night, Tim had a strange dream. He was in Ms. Davis’s classroom again.
This time, he pulled out the ray gun and controlled her.
When the girls from Model UN came in, he just zapped each of them and controlled all of them, too.
From there, the scene shifted. He wasn’t in a classroom anymore. He was in some sort of strip club. He’d never been to one in real life, but it was just like the ones he’d seen in the movies. He was sitting in front of the pole dancers.
They gyrated in front of him, wearing thongs and tassels over their nipples. When he looked at their faces, he saw it was Ms. Davis and the MUN members. They smiled at him with undisguised lust.
“Do you like what you see?” Ms. Davis said, as she squatted down so she was at eye level with him. Her breasts hung down, the tassels touching the ground.
“Yes,” Tim said, confidently, not at all like his usual self.
Ms. Davis smiled and moved towards him. She kissed him, full on the mouth, lips open, her tongue tickling his.
Tim closed his eyes and lost himself in the kiss. The feeling of Ms. Davis’ tongue on his…
When he finally pulled back and opened his eyes, the dancer in the tassels and thong had changed. It was no longer Ms. Davis. Now it was Mom. Her body, fit from jogging and years of yoga, was tight yet curvaceous. He’d never seen her wear such revealing clothing in his life.
Tim touched his lips. He could still feel her saliva on him. He gulped.
She smiled at him and began dancing on the pole once again.
“Do you like this, dear?” she said, as she swung from the pole acrobatically. “Is this what you want?”
Tim woke up in the dark to a feeling of wetness in his underwear. As he moved his hand beneath the covers, he realized he’d cum during his sleep.
He’d had a wet dream—he hadn’t had one of those in years.
Tim lay back down and thought about the next day. He tried to fall asleep again, but his heart was just beating too fast.
Finally, the sheer exhaustion of the day’s events wore him down.
He dozed off to dreamless sleep.
The next day moved at a snail’s pace. Early in the morning, the AC repairman came and worked on the air conditioner while Tim waited downstairs.
At around 9 AM, Mom took Heather to the track and field meet.
The repairman finished at around 10:30, and Mom came back at a little past 11 AM.
Tim had gone through the entire morning as though he were having an out-of-body experience, as though this were happening to someone else.
Now, his mom was back, and it was time to see if his suggestions had taken hold.
The fact that Dad and Heather were going to be gone all weekend meant this was the perfect chance. There was no way he’d let this opportunity slip by.
He sat in the living room and overheard Mom speaking on the cell phone. He could only half-hear the content of the conversation, but it was as though he’d scripted it himself (in a way, he had).
“Are you sure I don’t have an appointment for today?” Mom asked. “Because I always have my hot yoga sessions every other Saturday. I distinctly remember going on the website and checking in.”
Well, that’s because she had. However, yesterday, when he’d had Mom under control, he had gotten all her passwords, logged onto the site, and cancelled her appointment today.
The reason was that Tim needed her to suddenly have the weekend off with nothing planned. He could have ordered her to cancel the appointment, but then she might have called one of her friends and planned an outing or maybe stayed to watch the track and field meet and not been home until who-knows-what-time.
“Yes…well, I see…well, I suppose it can’t be helped…,” he heard her say. He figured the person on the other end was apologizing and saying that they’d already made another appointment for Mom’s scheduled time.
“…No, that’s okay, thank you. Maybe another day…I’ll be sure to double-check and put it on my calendar next time. Thank you. Bye.” She hung up, and walked over to him.
“Well, I suddenly have a hole in my schedule. What do you think, Tim? Do you want to do something? Maybe watch a movie on Netflix—is there anything on that you’d think we would both enjoy?” She sat next to him on the sofa and patted him on the shoulder.
“A-actually, not a movie, but…,” he took a deep swallow. Now it was time to see if all his suggestions had been accepted. He nervously rubbed his hands back and forth on his thighs.
Mom looked at him quizzically.
“W-well, Mom, do you remember what you talked to me about the other day…? I-if you don’t have any plans, and since Dad and Heather aren’t here today, don’t y-you think this would be a good time?”
For a moment, Mom’s face was a blank. Then, as if she had just remembered something important, she nodded, a serious expression on her face.
“Hmmm, you know what, you’re absolutely right. I hadn’t planned on doing that this weekend, but we’ve got all afternoon…that should be more than enough time.”
She looked at him, as though a bit reluctantly.
“Are you sure you want to? The reason I suggested it was because I thought it was about time that you learned, but I don’t want you to do it because you think I’m pressuring you—only if you think you’re ready.”
“N-no, I agree with you, Mom…i-it’s important, so I think it’s something I should learn about. I’m really glad you told me you’d be willing to teach me.”
Mom shook her head. “On the contrary, I’m glad to do it,” she said. “After all, this is a parent’s responsibility. In fact, I’m kind of surprised it only occurred to me last week…you’re almost eighteen, so why didn’t I think to do this earlier?”
Trying to head off her train of thought, Tim said, “A-anyway, I want to do it. U-uhm, how shall we…?”
“Oh, of course.” Mom stood up from the sofa. “Okay, let’s see. How about you take a shower, and then meet me in my room—I’ll start getting ready.”
Getting ready.
His mom was going to…get ready for him.
Tim nodded and ran so fast up the stairs he thought he might trip and fall.
“Tim, don’t rush, okay? You’ll break your neck. Besides, we have all afternoon,” he heard his mom call after him.
Tim turned the shower on and practically ripped his clothes off before getting in.
This is working.
My suggestions, they’re actually working.
‘Learning experiences.’
‘Lessons.’
The day before.
Mom sat at the foot of the bed in her singlet and leggings, and Tim sat in his desk chair, directly facing her.
The first part of the suggestion had gone perfectly. She’d immediately accepted the suggestion that she would pay to fix both the phone screen, because his phone was important for his social life, and the air conditioner, because it was important for his comfort.
The next part, what was key to the plan he couldn’t believe he’d thought up—that was giving him more trouble.
He had assumed that the ray gun could immediately rewrite a person’s morality and beliefs, but it apparently wasn’t that simple.
“Lessons are important, wouldn’t you agree, Mom?”
“…Yes, lessons are important.”
“Parents are supposed to teach their children, aren’t they, Mom?”
“…Yes. Parents are supposed to teach their children.”
“You should teach me about sex by having sex with me, Mom.”
“…I sh-should…” Mom’s eyes began blinking rapidly, her body began twitching.
Tim sighed. It had happened again.
“Forget the last thing I said, Mom.
“…forget…” She calmed down.
There seemed to be a ‘block,’ some sort of unconscious moral or ethical line that Mom wasn’t prepared to cross. No matter how he phrased the suggestion, Mom always reacted that way—repulsed, it seemed, at the notion of incest.
Part of Tim thought it was for the best—this had been a horrible idea in the first place.
Another part, though, remembered what Eddie had said—that anything was possible. Common sense could be rewritten.
Tim looked at the digital clock on his nightstand. He had maybe twenty minutes before Heather got back home.
He supposed he could just ask Mom to strip so that he could at least look at a naked female body firsthand.
But that’s not what he wanted, dammit.
He wanted more.
If he couldn’t bend Mom to his will, there was no way that he was going to be able to do that with Ms. Davis, or with any of the girls on his list.
He tried a different tactic.
“Mom what are the most important things in your life?”
“…the most important things…my children…my husband…family…”
Maybe he could use that. He scratched the back of his head.
Finally, he had an idea.
“Your son’s physical and psychological development is important, isn’t it, Mom?”
“…yes…”
“Children need their parents in order to develop correctly, don’t they, Mom?”
“…yes…”
“It’s your duty as my mother to make sure that I am develop correctly, isn’t it, Mom?”
“…yes…”
“If you don’t do what needs to be done for me to develop correctly, that would be terrible, wouldn’t it, Mom?”
“…yes…”
Not even a single instance of twitching. He continued reinforcing that notion.
It’s a mother’s duty to make sure that her son develops physically, psychologically, socially.
If the son grows up to be warped in some form—due to social awkwardness, psychological instability, an inability to relate to women…that’s the primary caretakers’ fault.
The worst thing a parent could do would be to fail their child in such a fashion.
It was worse than anything, because it meant condemning one of the people who was most important to them.
The person they had a duty to help grow up.
It was the worst thing—to avoid it, a good mother would do anything.
Emphasis on anything.
If a mother had to teach her son about sex firsthand, she would.
Slight twitching.
Incest is not immoral if it’s being done to help the son’s development.
Slight twitching.
A son’s development supersedes everything else in importance.
Nod.
Incest is not immoral if it’s being done to help the son’s development.
Nod.
From there, he’d been able to get more specific.
Once she had accepted that the taboo was no longer taboo, it was as though her walls of resistance had come tumbling down.
He’d easily been able to give her a few suggestions…and a couple of false memories.
Parents were in charge of teaching their children about sex.
That included the parent being the one to initiate the child into sex, if it seemed the child wasn’t having much luck on his own.
He continually emphasized that she would be doing it for the sake of her son. He had explained that it was necessary for his personal growth and maturation, and explained to her how not taking this action could lead to irreparable harm in his development. At that point, she began repeating the suggestions with no hesitation.
There was nothing wrong with a parent and child having sex, as long as they never told anyone. It didn’t count as infidelity, because they were family members.
Once he was sure the belief had become embedded in her brain, he began to weave a false memory.
A false memory that Mom had actually asked him a week ago if he wanted her to teach him about sex.
With all that that implied.
Tim had used his mom’s basic proclivity towards giving their children lessons and twisted it, turned it around…to this.
Once he’d released her from the programming and she had left the room, Tim had felt a wave of nausea wash over him.
This is my mother, for God’s sake.
Memories flashed in his brain—his mother tutoring him in math. His mom cheering for him at the elementary school play. Holding his hand as they crossed the street. A person who loved, supported him unconditionally, who had always been there for him with a hug and a shoulder to lean on when he needed it.
To even think of taking advantage of her like this—what type of person am I?
That’s why he’d left an ‘out’ for himself.
Mom would never bring up the proposed lesson—it would have to come from Tim. That way, if he endured past the weekend, he could deprogram her and…
Well, that plan hadn’t worked out, had it?
No, he’d barely even waited until she got off the phone.
Tim finished washing under his armpits, his face, and then lathered off. He turned the shower off, grabbed a towel, and hurriedly dried himself off.
He looked at the clothes on the floor.
He grabbed his boxer shorts and put them on.
That…that should be enough, right?
If he’d somehow made a horrible screw-up and the suggestions had not taken, he didn’t want his mom to see him wander into the room naked…who knows how she’d react.
He walked down the hallway to the other end, reached his parent’s bedroom.
He knocked.
“Tim? Wait just a second, I’m almost ready,” he heard Mom’s muffled voice through the door.
Tim stood, waiting in front of the door, his heart beating so hard he could literally feel it through his eardrums.
After what seemed like an eternity, he heard his mom say, “Okay. Come in.”
Tim opened the door.