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The text in this story is not to be published or
distributed in any way, electronically or otherwise,
that would allow access by any person where it is
a violation of county, city, state, national or
international obscenity, indecency or other laws.

This is a work of fiction intended for adults only.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely
coincidental.
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Author's Note:  This is the story of a boy angry over
                the impending divorce of his parents
                who plans a clever sexual blackmail
                that goes out-of-control, forcing him
                into a dilemma.
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Disrobing Mother - A Trilogy 
Copyright (c) 1996
By Dafney Cecil Dewitt
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Tommy Drummond was angry.  He did not want to leave the twelve room
white Georgian house, surrounded by four acres of  wooded  pasture,
where  he  had  grown up.  He looked at the picture of the military
academy  selected  by  his  mother.   The  caption  said  that  the
Hartford-Abernathy Academy trained  the  leaders of tomarrow.  Even
at the age of 16, Tommy  knews  real  leaders  did  not  depend  on
military  boarding  schools  to insure their success.  Real leaders
created their own futures.  Tommy  knews  he  needed a plan to deal
with his mother.

The sharp staccato sound of high heeled shoes clicking on the slate
covered  foyer  announced  the arrival of Tommy's mother.  He hoped
she would pass by the library  and  go upstairs.  He needed time to
think.  After 18 years of marriage, his parents were divorcing. The
clicking taps faded as Mary Elizabeth  Drummond  stepped  onto  the
persian carpet and into the library.  With an analytical eye, Tommy
watched her cross the room.  She was an attractive, tall, redheaded
woman,  fond  of  wearing formal ankle length dresses.  She had the
errect posture of  an  equestrienne.   She  was thin, but prominent
breasts help round out her figure removing any doubt that  she  was
female.   Her  pale  white face with a light scattering of freckles
contrasted nicely with her  radiant  sunset-red hair.  There were a
few wrinkles in the corners of her eyes  and  mouth  but  no  other
signs  of  her  fourty  years  of  age.   She was still wearing her
wedding ring.  Tommy knew this was  for his benefit. The ring would
come off as soon as he had departed for the Academy.

"Well, I see you found the Hartford-Abernathy Catalog,"  Mary  said
approaching her son cautiously. "What do you think?"

"I like the idea of building for the future," said Tommy surprising
himself as well as his mother.

Expecting  a protest, his mother automatically replied with a vague
rebuttal.  "You need the independence  and being around other young
men your age will help you develop."

"I just hope I fit in," says Tommy looking up at his mother with  a
worried expression.

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," said his mother patting the back of
his head with her hand. "You leave tomarrow."

Tommy  can almost feel his mother's heart skip with joy at how easy
it was all turning  out.   His  mother  would not have to share the
house with anyone.

Tommy  knew  all about the property settlement.  Private detectives
hired by both Mr. and  Mrs.  Drummond attempted to find evidence of
infidelity or improprieties  that  might  impact  the  division  of
assests.   They  were not successful. Mary Elizabeth Drummond would
end up with the house  and  about  four million in stocks.  Charles
Drummond would keep his Overseas  Investment  Business,  valued  at
about seven million, and the condominium in town.  Not all of these
monetary  details  had been resolved and the final papers still had
to be signed. According to the divorce attorneys, the final details
could drag on for  months.   Before  any  of the legal arrangements
were finalized, Tommy will be living at the military academy.

Two  weeks  later,  returning  from  a solitary shopping trip, Mary
Drummond, was surprised to hear  her  son  playing the piano in the
music room.  His face reflected defeat and resignation.  He stopped
playing when she entered the room, but impolitely continued staring
into the sheet music.

"Tommy, why aren't you at the Academy?"
"I can't."
"You can't what?"
"I don't fit in."
"Do you need an increase in your expense account?"
"No, that's not it."
"OK, then tell me the problem," Mary says sitting down beside
her son on the piano bench and putting her arm around him.

"Well, it's like this," explained Tommy.  He tells his mother  that
the  other  boys  had  formed  an exclusive elite group called 'The
Officer's Club'.  Once  accepted  into  this  group, your future at
Hartford-Abernathy Academy was assured.  Those  not  accepted  were
shunned  with  a code of silence.  Students outside the clique were
treated as if they  did  not  exist.   Not  being  a member of 'The
Officer's Club' made matriculation at the Academy intolerable.

"Surely, there must be something you can do to  be  accepted,"  his
mother persisted.

Tommy  looked  up into his mother's green eyes before answering. "I
have been accepted, but first I must pass the initiation test."

Mary frowned. "Dean Atkinson  assured  me  that there are no hazing
initiations anymore at the Academy.  Hazing has been outlawed."

"It's not hazing, Mom."

"Well,  then  be  a man, and explain it to your mother," Mary said,
affectionately patting the back of Tommy's head.

"It's simple.  I need to make  a  videotape  with  your  camcorder,
return to Hartford-Abernathy with it, and I'll be accepted."

"Well," said Mary standing up  with  relief,  "If there's any way I
can help you, just let me know."

"Actually, you can help," says Tommy.
"How?"
"The videotape was supposed to be about you."
"Me?"
"Yes, the other boys saw the picture of you that I took with me  to
the Academy.  They think you're a very pretty woman."

"Well, thank  you,"  says  Mary  who  thought  she  was  very  well
preserved.  She had not had any male appreciation of her appearance
since  the  divorce.   Mary  had  been having self-doubts about her
ability to compete with other women.   It felt nice to be admired. 
It felt even better to be admired by her son's young  college  prep
roommates.

"They  want  a videotape of you undressing," says Tommy with a look
of defeat in his face.

"What!"
"I knew it wouldn't work," says Tommy.
"Why would they want that?"
"Because I don't have a sister."
"So?"
"So,  the  other  boys  have  to  bring  back  videotapes  of their
sisters."
"Humm,  I  think I understand now.  This is sort of a candid camera
thing, catch the girls unaware, like  a peeping boy videotape, am I
right?"
"Yes, but I wasn't supposed to tell you."
"What did they expect?"
"I was supposed  to  hide  under  your  bed  or  in your closet and
videotape you without your knowing." Tommy hangs his head  down  in
shame.

Mary patted the back of Tommy's head in consolation. "You  did  the
right  thing. Don't feel ashamed." Tommy raised his head and stared
into his mother's breasts without answering.

Suddenly, Mary  stopped  talking  and  left  the  room.   Tommy was
uncertain how to re-open the conversation.  All during dinner, Mary
looked at her son, Tommy, with long curious glances.  Her face  was
a  mystery.  Did  she  pity  him?   Was  she  trying to think up an
alternative to his initiation?  Would she go along with it?  It was
impossible to determine.

After  dinner,  Mary  asked  Tommy into the library for a talk.  He
noticed the furniture  was  re-arranged.   His  father's books were
gone,  replaced  with  a  collection  of  handpainted  plates,  the
rosewood table had been moved to the far end  of  the  room  and  a
group  of chairs placed in a semi-circle.  The entire atmosphere of
the room had changed.  In  less  then  two weeks, it had become her
room.  When his mother picked up her wine glass, Tommy noticed  the
pale  white  band  of  bare skin on her wedding ring finger.  Tommy
could feel his insides shaking.

Pouring  herself  another  glass  of  white  wine,  Mary  Elizabeth
Drummond sat in one  of  the  chairs  in the small semi-circle and
motioned Tommy to sit beside her.  Rotating the  wine  glass  slowly
between the fingers of her two hands, Mary started speaking.

"If you bring back this videotape, are you certain to be accepted?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"Who will look at the videotape?"
"Just the other boys.   Some  of  the  other tapes of kid's sisters
have already been recorded over with television shows."
"Do you want to do it?"
"I'm not sure.  It's up to you."
"Yes, but what do you want?"
"I'd like to do it."

As his mother poured herself a third glass of her wine, Tommy could
tell that the idea of disrobing  in front of a video camera excited
her.  Or maybe it was the thought of other mother's  kids  watching
her.   He never considered the possibility that his mother might be
excited by disrobing in front  of  her own son.  Mary was finishing
her fourth glass of wine before she made her decision.

"If your father were here, I would say no." Mary said  slowly  with
the  resolve  of  making  a  moral  statement.  "As the head of the
family, the decision would be his and not mine.  You have placed me
in a difficult situation.  I want you to be accepted. I want you to
succeed at Hartford-Abernathy Academy.   You  need  to grow up into
manhood among other young men.  As a single mother, I can not  give
you  the  same  type of rearing." She pauses sipping more wine, and
begain on a new line of rationale  as  if she has lost her train of
thought. "There's nothing wrong with disrobing.  Many families swim
in the nude or use sauna's without bathing suits.  In Europe, there
are nude beaches. It's all in the perception.  Will you  think  any
less of me, as a mother, if I do what you ask?"

Sitting in the library, talking with his mother, Tommy felt himself
getting aroused.  This is the sexiest thing he had ever done. Still
a  child,  planning  to  dominate  a  grown  woman, his own mother.
Watching and listening to her mental struggle to accept his demands
intensified his pleasure.  It  felt  like  a  surge of pure energy,
pure power sweeping through his body.   He  remembered  his  father
talking  about  the  thrill  of  power brokering, watching business
adversaries struggle to make their actions justify their vanities. 
He knows his mother was vain, spending hours fussing with her hair,
applying makeup, getting  pedicures,  and  facial massages.  He had
known these things for years, but he had never  tried  to  use  her
vanity  against  her like a weapon.  Revelling in the sensation, it
sucked him in, without letting go, like a whore's mouth.

There was a long,  silent  pause  before Tommy answered his mother's
question.

"I'll  always  love  you  as  my  mother," he answered with a vague
reassurance.  Tommy's heart  was  beating uncontrollably.  He could
not believe his plan was working.  It was incredible.

Mary Drummond took her son, Tommy, by the hand  and  together  they
climbed  the  stairs to her bedroom.  While she primped in front of
the bathroom mirror, he set up the camcorder.

Mary Drummond looked stunning.  She had applied blue eye shadow and
eyelash liner to accent her  green  eyes.  Her red hair was brushed
out, shining with a burnishing glow that was  complemented  by  her
glossy coral lipstick.  She was fully dressed in high-heeled shoes,
with  a  full length coat covering a black evening dress topped off
with a white mink  stole,  and  hat.   She  looked like a socialite
ready to depart for a formal concert on a winter's night.   With  a
nod toward Tommy, she asked, "Are you ready?"

"Ready," says Tommy, lifting the camcorder to his eye.

Mary begain undressing as if she  were alone.  Removing her hat and
coat, she shook out her hair.  She dropped the hat  and  coat  onto
the  chair.   Turning  sideways, her profile facing the camera, she
rested her high-heeled shoe on  the  seat  of the chair, and slowly
unbuckled the tiny black straps crossing  her  ankle,  letting  her
dress  ride up over her thigh.  Bending over facing the camera, she
gave a fleeting glimpse of her breasts beneath the top of her dress
as she removed her shoes.

Standing in her stocking  feet,  Mary  turned until she was looking
straight ahead.  Flirting with the camera,  she  touched  her  gold
hooped  earrings  as  if she were viewing herself in a mirror.  She
tossed her head, smiling into  the  camera,  and ran the tip of her
tongue over her upper lip as if she were tasting the flavor of  her
coral  red  lipstick.   Tommy  zoomed the camera in on his mother's
face just as she pouted  her  lips  and  said,  "Do you want to see
more?"

After a drammatic pause, Mary started unbuttoning the front of  her
dress  all  the  way  down to her waist.  She stopped and looked up
again, directly at the camera, and  saids "Are you sure you want to
see more?" Her face broke into a dazzling smile.   With  her  right
hand she loosened the belt around her waist.  In one smooth motion,
she  pulled  the belt off. Letting the belt dangle between her legs
like a golf club she swung  it  back  and forth.  She looked up, and
raised her eyebrows in a mock expression of surprise saying,  "It's
a long one."

Dropping  the  belt  on  the  floor, Mary reached underneath her
dress, bending over, turning her  bottom  to the camera pulling her
pantyhose down to her knees.  Swiveling around to face the  camera,
she  raised  her right foot directly into the lens giving a glimpse
underneath  her  dress.   Standing  on  one  foot,  she  worked  the
pantyhose off her right  leg.   Switching  feet,  the camera got a
brief view of her panties, as she raised her left leg to remove the
pantyhose.  Mary bent over to pick the pantyhose up off the  floor
and lay it over the back of the chair.

Standing up straight, Mary  began  working  her dress down over her
left shoulder.  With one side of her bra exposed, Mary  teased  the
camera  saying  "Oops!  I forgot to unbutton my sleaves." Shrugging
her dress  back  onto  her  shoulder,  she  unbuttoned  both of the
sleaves on her dress.  "OK, now we'll try that again,"  Mary  saids
slipping  her  arm  out  of  the dress and pulling it down over her
shoulder. She repeated the  process  with  the  other arm until her
dress was hanging from her waist  with  her  bra  fully  exposed.  
Hooking  her  thumbs under the the dress at her waist, Mary started
wiggling back and forth, seductively, to  squirm out of her dress. 
She suddenly stopped squirming.  Looking into the camera, she  said
"Oops!  You  wouldn't want me to take off my panties too." Reaching
down, she pulled up the  edge  of  her  white lace panties with her
fingertips before continuing to pull her dress down over her hips. 
She let the dress fall to the the floor.  Bending to  pick  it  up,
she bared her rear end to the camera's unblinking eye and the frame
blossums with a view of her white laced panties.

Walking  toward  the  closet,  she  opened the door and disappeared
briefly before returning with a  long single piece silk nightgown. 
She held it  up  by  the  shoulder  straps,  gathered  it  together
preparing  to  slip it over her head.  Without warning, she stopped
and laid the silk nightgown down on the chair.  Shaking her redhair
back and forth, she held her index finger over her mouth and pursed
her lips as if cautioning  someone  to  be quiet and said, "Oh, you
naughty boys. You want more don't you?" She lowered her finger  and
hugged  herself with both arms, craddling her breasts together, for
maximum cleavage.  "Humm! What do you think I should do?" Mary said
rotating her shoulders back and forth smiling like a woman half her
age.

Tommy was lost.  He was transfixed by this striptease. It had  gone
far  beyond  anything he might have imagined. Afraid of thinking of
his mother in sexual  terms,  he  stopped thinking. Emotionally, he
was frozen.  The camcorder was his saviour.  It filmed the  action,
continuing to record even after Tommy had closed his eyes. The lens
sucked in the performance.  Tommy activated the zoom instinctively.
The recording was automatic without Tommy's conscious effort.  On a
deeper  level,  he  comforted  himself  with the knowledge that his
mother was playing to the camera,  playing to the unknown young men
who she thought would be admiring her body, and not performing  for
for her son.

Slowly,  with  a  deliberation  filled with suspense, Mary used her
left hand to push her right  bra strap off her shoulder. She turned
and loosened her left bra strap.  Turning her back to  the  camera,
she  unhooked  the back of her bra.  Facing back toward the camera,
bra straps dangling, she  cupped  her  breasts  in the palms of her
hands to keep the brassiere in place.

Tommy does not remember his mother exposing her breasts, or letting
the  bra  drop to the floor.  She wiggled the silken nightgown down
over her head before he regained his sense of time and place. Tommy
was numb.

The next morning,  after  his  mother  departed  on  another of her
errands, Tommy used the Sony camcorder to tape himself masturbating
in her bedroom.  With the camcorder on full zoom,  he  jerked  off,
until he climaxed.

Using his comic book collection as a bribe, Tommy enticed three of
his neighborhood friends over to participate in a video  project.  
They  sat  on  his  mother's  bed  mugging  for  the camcorder with
expressions of surprise, and enthusiasm. Tommy prompted them on what
to say.  In return  for  refusing  to  talk about the video taping,
they all received some first edition comics in mint condition.

The following week,  after  Tommy  had  returned  to  the  military
academy,  Mary  Drummond  was  puzzled  by  the sound of young men's
voices coming from the Home Theater Room.

Her first fear was that Tommy had returned.  For Mary Drummond, the
reality was much worse.   Entering  the  Home Theater Room, she was
stunned by the picture on the television screen.

She  stood frozen, watching something that she knew never happened.
Mary watched herself doing a  striptease  while her son, Tommy, was
sitting in a corner chair masturbating, and  three  of  his  school
friends were lounging on her bed making lewd comments.

She  turned  off  the sound, but let the tape run watching a silent
scene unfold that she knew  in  her  heart was impossible. The film
repeated itself in a loop before Mary realized it had been cleverly
edited.

Tommy Drummond walked into the room.

"You bastard!"

Mary Elizabeth Drummond pressed the eject button on  the  VCR.  She
threw the cassette to the floor and smashed it with her high heeled
shoe.   The  black  case  broke  open with a loud cracking sound of
brittle plastic.

"It's just a copy, Mom"
"There was no initiation, was there?"
"No, Mom."
"You bastard!"
"I know.  I've been bad."
"Has your father, Charles, seen this?"
"No."
"Thank God!"
"But he might ..."
"You bastard!  The divorce papers haven't been signed yet."
"I know."
"Your father could end up with almost everything."
"I know."
"What do you want?"

Tommy  wanted  to  say he would destroy the videotape if his mother
let him quit the Academy and live  at home, but his voice choked up
with emotion.

"I want you...." Tommy managed to say.

Tommy hung his head down, his nerve was lost, thinking he had failed.
His mother reached out.  Tommy thought she was going to slap him,
but she patted him on the back of his head, and moved away.

When he raised his head, Tommy saw his mother was starting to undress.
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