But something she couldn't deny, it had been wonderful. It had been perfect, fantastic. And those words her son had demanded of her had helped. Even calling her these names had done something to her emotions, made her excited. She felt worthless, of value only because of what she had between her legs. She felt she was nothing but a piece of shit, something to use. She had ways felt as though she was filth.

She cried for a long time, then struggled to her feet. She stumbled to the bathroom, hardly able to see through her tears. She ran a tub of hot water, as hot as she could stand. Slipping into the water, she leaned back, trying to understand what was wrong with her, why she liked for her son to call her cunt, bitch, asshole.

Why had she come?

Why did those names excite her?

What was wrong with her?

When her father, her brother, and her husband had called her those names, it hadn't excited her, only made her feel all the more worthless. But when her son called her those names she became fiery hot, her cunt literally steaming. She had never felt excitement when they had demanded things of her, but when Timmy demanded, she felt all tingly and warm. But then, her father and brother had not touched her in a sexual way, either. Her husband had called her cunt and bitch and slut and shit and cocksucker, even while fucking her and she had only felt a coolness of passivity.

Donna was aware her cunt was throbbing again, that her clit had become swollen once more. She leaned her head on the rim of the tub, opening her legs and gently exploring her cunt with tender fingers.

"Where the fuck are you, Mom?" she heard her son say.

She started to answer, then remembered where she was.

She never talked like that to her before, not with those words. He had always been demanding, like his father, but never using such words. Now, he spouted them ha if he had been saying them all his life.