I got into fights constantly and developed a reputation as someone who was distant and not to be messed with. Never once did my mom ask why I had been...in the fights or why I did what I did. I did everything I did for her. I never got into fights over petty things, but when someone made a pass at my mom, they regretted it. Cutting was my way of escaping the pain of knowing that all I was, was a reminder to my mother of my father, and as a disappointment to her for all the things I did. I found. I preferred them naturally so I could move the skin to hide and then reveal the cockhead. He looked embarrassed but I said quickly. “Don’t be worried my baby boy remember I’m your mommie. You need a bath and mommies going to help you with it!” Quickly removing his other garments I helped him into the tin bath in front of the wood burning range. Before he could protest I started to wash him with a cloth paying particular attention to his bum and genitals. Leaning forward I kissed the young man. More

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