I Think Your Mother Had Been Using You For Sex
“I think your mother had been using you for sex”, my wife said to me as we laid in bed together. “I think she made you lick her and kiss her down there”.
She said this knowing that I have a strong impulse to give oral sex to women, preferably women with strong maternal personalities such as my wife.
Moreover, my wife and I have developed this role play where she’s the “mommy” and I’m the “little boy”. She strokes my penis while I lay on the bed suckling her. She says things like, “That’s a good boy”, and “You’re such a little sweetheart”, while I continue to address her as “Mommy”. This kind of role play is very powerful for me, in ways I can’t fully express.
I gave her statement a serious thinking because I knew she wouldn’t have said it if she hadn’t felt so strongly. I searched hard through my memory banks, but the images remained elusive.
“I think she was very angry with your father when he was in Vietnam, and very lonely too. And because she never wanted kids in the first place, and she saw you more as his son than hers, she abused you.”
That observation made sense to me. I do recall when I was 18 years old, my mother admitting that she never wanted to have a child. She only did it to guarantee residency in the United States. After she realized my father had been unfaithful, she divorced him immediately, and felt too disgusted to offer anymore love and nurturing to a child that she was now “stuck with”.
I was 7 years old when she divorced him.
“I think it’s very likely she was using you for sex”, Emily, our therapist, said to both my wife and I. “It didn’t have to be oral sex, or anal sex, it could have been a lot of things”.
The 18 months my mother and I spent in Japan have long been a period of mystery for me. I was 3 1/2 years old when my father moved us from Vallejo, CA to Yokohama, Japan. He was being sent to Vietnam and wanted us within an easy flight visit us on his days off. However, he never came to visit us.
I do clearly remember sleeping in bed with my mother. As long as my father was away, she preferred to have me sleeping with her. I also remember taking baths with her. They typically have very deep tubs in Japan, and it’s common for families to bathe together.
I can remember her soaping up her hands and rubbing them over my penis and scrotum, not just a quick go over, but a thorough washing. There was a short routine we’d go through. I would stand on the seat of the tub, so that my hips were above the water, and she lathered my “parts” well, going over and over, gently rubbing and lathering.
“We need to keep your ‘chin chin’ clean.” she’d say.
I’d also feel her fingers rubbing up and down my anus. I’d giggle because it felt funny, and she’d smile again.
“There, you’re all done now”.
I’d sit back down into the water and she rubbed my entire body some more, getting all the soap off.
I never gave it a second thought because she rationalized it with the importance of keeping clean. I didn’t realize how sexually powerful it had become to me now in my adult life.
I also remember suckling her during those years. I can vaguely remember her sitting up in bed, topless, with her back resting against the head board. I would prop myself up with my hands and lean forward to suckle. I don’t recall getting any milk. It was just suckling. I can vaguely recall suckling in the bathtub too.
I can even remember being analy penetrated back then too. But it wasn’t with a finger, penis, or other body part. It was in some kind of examination room. I’d like to believe it was a rectal thermometer, but I’m certain it didn’t occur at a doctor’s office. I think it was the school nurse. I attended a school run by the Catholic Church to serve American military families in Japan. I think it was part of a physical examination. My mother was there when it happened. I laid on my belly with my pants off. She stood by my head, stroking my hair, whispering words of encouragement. Meanwhile, I cringed and cried as I felt some kind of object enter me. The feeling of being held down and praised while another woman penetrated my anus left a profound imprint that remains with me today.
But I don’t remember any other sexual activity back then. And to me, what little I do remember, didn’t seem too terribly unethical considering it’s common in Asian cultures for mothers to become intimately close to their sons.
“It’s entirely wrong!” Emily explained to me. “Children should not be sleeping in bed with their mothers, at all. Those that do develop a dependency for it, and when their mothers eventually kick them out, they feel rejected and go on searching for a replacement.”
The little boy is a real personality in me, and one that I believe is my real, full time personality. It’s just that my alters tend to overshadow him out of protection.
“I’m not suggesting that your mother did indeed have sex with you”, Emily continued. “But it’s very common for the brain to repress memories that are too painful to come to terms with. Over time, as this little boy becomes more comfortable with the external world, and you gain a better grasp of your alters, those memories will come back.”