Starting a Perverted Cult

Chapter 12: Aftermath


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I erased every traces of yesterday’s events from our house. It was a lot of work, but my mother’s ass gave me the strength and motivation I needed to finish the task at hand.

The most obvious one was the room that now reeked of the stench of sex, sweat, and all sorts of bodily fluids, mixed together. I opened the doors and windows to let fresh air come in and blow away the stench.

Then, as much as I wanted to look at her body covered in my cum, I still wiped them off of my mother’s body. After wiping them off, I then cleaned her up with a damp towel in order to get rid of the smell that still lingered around her body, before drying her with another towel. I then put the clothes that I stripped off of her earlier, back on her body.

Thankfully, she was only awake for like half-a-minute before she suffocated due to my dick and passed out. If I’m lucky, she’ll think it was just a fever dream or that she was too disoriented to know what was actually happening to her. Or if lady luck was really on my side, she might not even remember it all together.

Even if she does remember, it is a memory too brief and short that I’m confident I can buy some time for myself just by acting stupid about it at least.

So basically my plan is that ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Her son didn’t fuck her. Nothing happened last night.

-and I’ll stand on that hill no matter how much she asks me. Even if she were to break some of my fingers or lose a few tooth, I’d prefer both of those over facing her full fury.

With that in mind, I started cleaning until sunrise. Luckily, she didn’t wake up during that time so I was able to do what I set out to do. I hadn’t caught an inch of sleep yet, but I was too nervous to even feel drowsy. I was always the one that got up earlier between the two of us anyway, so it’s not strange that she’ll catch me already up by the time she she woke up.

I also had the Essence of Nightshade with me in case I needed to calm, or even, put her down. For emergency purposes, I went out to the woods to take out the dagger that I brought from Huang and hid it under my clothes, in case things reach a point where they are no longer salvageable.

I also took with me a ‘Thief’s Wine’ potion for running away, just in case the first two items proved to be insufficient.

All that I had to do now was to wait for her to wake up and see what her reaction towards me will be. Would she completely flip out in anger? Would she be confused? Or will absolutely nothing happen? Personally, I wish for it to be the last option.

I looked out at the clock and saw that it was already 8 in the morning, just around the time mother usually woke up. Instead of waiting for her to wake up, I sat at the doorframe and continued reading the second book that I bought from Huang, Oracle, and read up on mythological stories.

I waited for 15 minutes… 30 minutes… 45 minutes… then an hour had passed but she remained fast asleep. I frowned, but it wasn’t that big of a problem. I went hard at her body last night, no matter how strong she was, it’s normal to rest longer after having your body used like that. So I kept waiting…

9 o’clock…

10 o’clock…

11 o’clock…

12 o’clock…

It was already afternoon and I haven’t had breakfast yet. A few minutes later, my nervousness couldn’t keep my hunger down any longer. So I went out to buy some ingredients to cook a meal for myself, and some for my mother.

I managed to go back from the market, cook an entire meal, finish eating it while setting aside some for my mother, continue reading about myths and legends, and she still hadn’t woken up. I was being kept on the edge the entire day, the nervous feeling never left me as I wondered about what would happen once she wakes up.

But instead she just kept sleeping, which meant the nervousness I felt continued to go unresolved.

The day had already passed and the sun had already set below the horizon. Nervousness slowly turned to anxiety as I examined her closely. She was still breathing and her body was warm, confirming that she was alive. But, why isn’t she waking up already? It’s been 18 hours already and she’s still asleep.

This was unnaturally long, even for her.

An hour later, the feeling of hunger returned. Once again, I cooked with the other ingredients I bought earlier. It was the same exact thing. I cooked, I ate, then I waited. But nothing changed.

Finally, drowsiness caught up to me. I still hadn’t slept since yesterday and I was only kept awake because of how nervous and anxious I was. I hadn’t done anything the entire day, but wait for my mother to wake up. I didn’t even have the desire to take advantage of her sleeping again, because every moment I’m thinking that she might wake up. With my mind tired after being on edge the entire day, I was soon fast asleep as well.

… … What happened the next day almost felt too anticlimactic.

I woke up late, due to being extremely tired the day before. By that time, Mom was already gone from her mattress. My heart sank at first, only for me to find her outside, sitting at the wooden log with one leg over the other as she read the book I was reading yesterday. The one about gods and mythology.

“Hey.” She then looked over as she called out to me. Seeing that my body inadvertently tensed up, but she only asked: “Where did you get this?”, while lightly waving the book with her hand

At first I wondered if she was playing with me, waiting for me to admit my wrongdoings myself, but she looked like she couldn’t care less about me as usual. In fact, the only question she asked me after that was: “You have friends?” after I told her that a friend gave it to me.

“He left town some time ago.” I added, not putting any significant emotions to my face or voice. But inside I must’ve already made like dozens of sigh of reliefs by now. This short exchange told me all that I needed to know about whether or not she remembered the events of the other night.

It was clear that she does not, seeing how nonchalant she was.

I felt my worries disappear as all the anxiety I had been felling turned into pride, knowing that I got away with what I did. I didn’t even tell her that she completely slept through an entire day of her life. Instead I took a glance at her soft lips and felt smug knowing that those same lips were tightly wrapped around my cock just the other night and she would never ever find out that it even happened.

* * *

However, it doesn’t seem like that was all there was too it. I took quite the liking to this whole ‘grilling’ thing. So later that noon, I was grilling meat again, this time with a few more vegetables other than just mushrooms.

Mom sat at the wooden log, still reading the book she got her hands on earlier. However, she took her eyes off of its pages when the scent of meat being cooked started to permeate the air. She seemed interested in what I was doing, and then she said something that gave me a feeling of deja vu:

“Well, I’ve never seen people cook meat like this before” she said. “It doesn’t seem all that bad though.”

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She even continued with the same exact words, “It’s something new at least… … I was getting tired of having your soup, or whatever you called it, every single day.”

Although they were a bit snide, they were still just side-remarks in the end. No reason to dwell on them any longer than I needed to. But I couldn’t help but think about them for a few seconds longer because they gave me a feeling that something’s not quite adding up. So I had to do a double-take and ask: “You’ve… never seen someone cook meat like this before?”

I just wanted to reaffirm something. However, my mother seemed to have taken it the wrong way and thought that I’m mocking her for her ignorance, because she gave me a frown and then said:

“I’ve heard of people roasting meat over wooden structures before. They would use sticks to create a flame over a fire and then place the meat on top of it.” she then continued. “They would even use different types of wood to give different flavors to the meat.”

Damn, even I didn’t know that.

“When I say that I haven’t seen it, it’s because it’s a cooking method used by tribes of savages and cannibals in the southwest. I’m well aware of its existence, I just never had the chance to lay eyes on it for myself” she then rolled her blue eyes, seemingly having lost interest in the grill and went back to reading.

More importantly though, is how she admitted she’d never seen anyone cook like this before, when we had just done the same exact thing two days ago. It’s got me thinking of one possibility.

“Well, what would you prefer then? This or our dinner last night?” I asked. But then, I realized it sounded like I was threatening her. So she said:

“… Don’t play games with me, young man. Just do what you’re supposed to do.” Her answer, however, still told me what was really happening.

Remember, that because she slept for an entire day, her ‘dinner last night’ would be two days ago, which is the night I drugged her while we were eating meat and mushroom skewers, which I grilled. With her. While sitting in that same exact spot.

There should be no difference at all between this and ‘our dinner last night’. But she took it like I was threatening to change our lunch into something else.

“What? Your Majesty doesn’t like my soup anymore?” The way I addressed her was dripped with sarcasm, but she didn’t pick up on it.

“Calling that a soup is an insult to all the soups of this world.” she retorted.

I mean, I’m not proud of my soup either. It was just that it’s the only thing I knew to cook for the longest time. It’s bland, but I’ve been having it for so long that it became comfortable.

But still, that all but confirms it. We had soup as dinner the day before I drugged her. So for one more trial, I waited for some of the skewers to be cooked before innocuously saying: “Well, mom, here’s your first meat skewer then~” and giving it to her with a smile

She just stared at me for a few seconds before taking the meat skewer from my hand and saying: “I thought I told you not to call me mom? It’s disrespectful.”

“Mommy?”

“…”

“Sorry.”

“…”

“Esteemed Mother.”

Only then did she look away and start eating. I had a good laugh seeing her stare at me disapprovingly after being called ‘Mommy’. This much was normal already, and I’m not gonna act all hurt at not being able to call her Mom. Instead, what’s important is that she didn’t deny this being her first ever meat skewer.

“Well, Esteemed Mother, do you remember what day is it today?” I asked

She let out a sigh, as if she found it disappointing that I didn’t know. But the thing is, I knew what day it is today. It’s obviously Friday, but it seems like my mom has a different idea because she said: “It’s Wednesday.”

With that, I was sure that it is not just me forcefully dicking her down in the middle of the night that she forgot about, but rather it’s one entire day that was completely removed from her memories.

It might seem hasty at first, judging something as serious as memory loss from a few simple questions like this. But, this wasn’t the first something like this had happened to my mother.

That wonderful memory of me watching my mother bathe in the river, actually has a very brutal continuation to it.

She later noticed me peeping and quickly covered herself, then with a thunderous voice, angrily shouted: “I KNOW YOU’RE THERE, YOUNG MAN!”.

She wasn’t pleased seeing me peeping at her, and it was the first time she used mana as she taught me a very painful lesson. Even up to this day, the following memories only came in painful fragments.

There were no excuses like, I was only a kid or that I didn’t know what I was doing. She didn’t like me peeping at her body and that was the end of the discussion. Our relationship had thoroughly changed after that and she became so much harsher with her lessons after that. It didn’t seem like it would ever go back to how it was before, or at least that’s what I thought.

A few weeks later, she suddenly forgot about a lot of things. It was the incident when she lost her alchemy skills and she didn’t even notice. But among the things she forgot was the peeping incident a few weeks back.

It was a rough time afterwards, because she accused me or a few of the townspeople of stealing things that she just misplaced or forgot about. Of course, that was her worst and most noticeable case of sudden memory loss. She’s had a few more over the years, some I probably didn’t even notice.

But I’ve always thought they came at random times. Was it a heaven-sent coincidence that she forgot about it now or was I really the one responsible for her losing her memories this time?

Whatever the case was, this memory thing along with that matter about the silver wolves being so afraid of me is added to the list of things that I have to know more of.

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