The Blan Coupon

========== MONDAY ==========

It was one of those lazy Monday mornings, the ones where the weekend still lingers, and you just want to lie in bed, and pretend you don't have to get up. It was already 9am, and my husband, Pete, laid next to me. Both of us were out of breath, and his hand idly played with my still sensitive nipples. Every touch re-ignited the embers of a just-passed orgasm, and his cum slowly dribbled out of my pussy.

"I think we have to get up," Pete announced reluctantly.

"Really?" I whined. "Come on, let's go again!"

Pete leaned over, and kissed me. It was wonderful, and I could taste my own juices mixed with salty sweat on his lips.

"Sorry, Carrot. I'm already late for work, and I do have a plane to catch."

I let out a long, drawn out, terribly exaggerated sigh, and watched him get up. Carrot was not my real name, of course (that was Holly), but the nickname Pete had given me because of my red hair. It wasn't red like a carrot, either, it was auburn, but the name had stuck anyways.

Listening to the prattle of the shower in the adjacent bathroom was soothing, and made me sleepy again. Pete may have had to leave on a business trip for almost an entire damn week, but I didn't. I could just keep lying there, in the warm, cozy bed, and snuggle up with my blanket. I might as well get some practice in, since that would be my only partner until Thursday night.

Pete woke me up with a kiss on the cheek, and I remember him smelling fresh, and clean.

"I really gotta go," he whispered. "I'll call you when I land, ok? Don't forget to pick up Neil's present."

"Yes, honey," I murmured, before falling back asleep.

I woke up again at noon, feeling incredibly rested, satisfied, and finally ready to start the week without my husband. I left the comforts of my very warm bed to shower (which I definitely needed), and eat breakfast. Well, it was more of a lunch, really.

At one, I drove to the mall, where I picked up Neil's birthday cake. It wasn't anything special, just normal sponge cake with candles, frosting, and the words "Happy 19th Birthday, Neil!" I was never a big fan of them, and neither was Neil, but Pete insisted that it was tradition, and his son should definitely have a cake on his birthday. Funny, how the only person who thought it was important was the only person not there.

With the cake safely secured with seatbelts in the passenger's seat, I drove to the post office. Pete and I had ordered a brand new, top of the line laptop for Neil, to use at college the next year. To be honest, we've had our doubts about whether or not he'd get into a college, but his grades had really picked up in the recent months. We had ordered it online, and it was supposed to have arrived last Friday, but for some reason it never did. Instead, we got a card telling us to pick up the parcel on the next business day, at the post office.

The old man at the counter frowned after I slipped him the card, and informed me that my package had never actually left California. He apologized, said there was nothing he could do, and told me I should come back in three to five days. No amount of pleading, or telling him it was my son's birthday present seemed to change anything, and five minutes later, I was on the way back home, annoyed.

We had some other presents (mostly clothes, and sweets), as well as a package from my sister, but I had really wanted him to see his new laptop on his actual birthday. I definitely wanted him to get at least something that wasn't just sugar and clothes. After arriving back home, I had about two hours before he came home from school. Not enough time to really make something special, and I didn't want to just buy a second gift. After all, he would still get the laptop, it would just be a few days late.

While cleaning the dishes from that morning, and setting up the kitchen table with cake, an idea popped into my head. It was really cheesy, and maybe even cringey, but goddamn, I was his mother, and it was my duty to embarrass him every once in awhile.

I sat down at the computer, and started typing. "I, Holly Hill, present the wonderful Neil Hill a one time use coupon redeemable for: " Actually, I got the idea from Neil himself. Back, when he was eight years old, and it had been my twenty-sixth birthday, he had given me a whole stack of similar coupons, for cleaning his room, brushing his teeth, and similar things. All things that he was supposed to do already, actually, but it was sweet nonetheless.

I copy-pasted the sentence a bunch of times, leaving enough space to write something in between, and printed out a sheet. After cutting them up, I thought about what to write on them. For the first one, I put "a hug." For the second one, too. And the third. At the bottom of each of them, I signed my name, making it "official." I also wrote one for a "nice meal out," and a "leave me alone for the evening" one. That one would probably get used pretty quickly.

Of course, I also wrote some more serious ones, like a coupon for a one time, no-questions-asked pickup in the middle of the night. I knew that he and his friends had gotten drunk at least once, because I found the empty bottle in a bush in our backyard, and I didn't think telling him not to get drunk would accomplish anything. It was far better to make sure that he knew he could always turn to me for help if he needed it.

After writing another few coupons, I put them all in a stack, and stuffed them into his birthday card. I finished just in time, too, because only ten minutes later, the front door opened, and Neil walked in. I hurriedly lit the candles, before meeting him. Turns out he did not actually look any older than he did the day before. I had to rack my brains for older memories to really see the difference.

Neil took after his father on the outside. He had the same short, black hair, and brown eyes. He didn't play any sports, and ate a lot of junk food, but managed to somehow look fit. By now, he had actually outgrown me by at least a foot, and was even slightly taller than Pete. It seemed like just yesterday, when I was still able to pick him up, and carry him around.

"Happy birthday, Neil!" I greeted him, and hugged him before he even dropped his backpack to the floor. He didn't even need a coupon for that one, what a lucky boy!

"Thanks, Mom."

"Are you hungry?" I inquired, letting go of him.

"A little."

"Well, I got cake," I announced grandly.

"Oh, wonderful," he said, trying hard to actually sound excited.

"You have to eat at least one slice, for Dad."

Neil sighed. "Let's get it over with, then."

I got out my cellphone, and took many pictures of Neil blowing out the candles, cutting the cake, and eating a slice. I picked out the best one, with him looking in the camera (and smiling) in front of the cake, and sent it to Pete.

"So, is it time for presents?" asked Neil, with a grin, looking at the too-small pile of wrapped objects.

"Well... yes, and no," I answered, cryptically.

"What does that mean?" he asked, confused.

I figured I should lead with the bad news, and get it out of the way. "You won't be getting your real present today, because—"

"What!" he yelled, but I knew he wasn't really angry.

"Because the package didn't arrive in time," I finished.

"How dare you! I demand presents at once," he playfully commanded, and I laughed.

"Ease up there, tiger. I put in a substitute."

"A substitute for what?" he inquired, raising one of his eyebrows.

"We got you..." I banged my fingers on the edge of the table in a drumroll, "...a new laptop."

"Ooh!" Neil's eyes lit up with excitement.

"But like I said, it's not here yet. They messed up the delivery."

"That's okay. Thanks, Mom!"

Neil leaned over, and gave me another coupon-less hug.

"There's also some small stuff, and something from Aunt Megs."

"Cool," he exclaimed, and immediately set upon the package from my sister.

I was actually curious to find out what was inside, myself. Neil tore open the wrapper, and inside was a small, brown cardboard box, wrapped with twine. He fumbled for half a minute with the knot, before giving up.

"Mom, some help?"

I got up, and pulled a steak knife out of the drawer. The twine was wrapped tightly around it, and I had to push the blade sideways underneath it. With one smooth motion, I pulled the knife up, and felt a sharp sting on my thumb, as the knife handle slipped out of my grip.

"Fuck!" I yelled, and dropped the knife.

A large drop of blood formed at the tip of my thumb, and I quickly grabbed a paper towel. The cut didn't appear to be too deep, but it stung like a motherfucker.

"You ok, Mom?" asked Neil concerned. He had picked up the knife, inspected the blade, and then used it to slice open the package.

"Yeah, it's not bad. Just hurts a lot. Be right back." I replied, and went into the adjacent bathroom, to look for bandaids.

Unfortunately, the box was empty, and no one had bothered to replace it, or tell me. With a sigh, I returned to the table. Neil had apparently finished with Megs' present, and moved on to the pile of clothes. I tried looking around for what was in the box, but couldn't see anything.

"What did you get?" I asked.

"Oh, just some stuff," he dodged the question.

If it hadn't been his birthday, I would have immediately investigated it, but I did not want to be that kind of mother. I sat back down, and stuck my thumb in my mouth, sucking the wound in lieu of a bandage. Neil unwrapped a sweatshirt, four pairs of socks (his somehow managed to always get holes), and a t-shirt from his favorite band, "Blargh." I had to give him credit for looking happy despite such meager offerings. Unless Megs' mystery present was the reason for his happiness.

"Thanks, Mom!"

"Still one more thing left," I said, nodding at the card.

I almost considered telling him not to open it, and let me take out the cheesy coupons before he opened it, since he seemed to be pretty happy with his other presents, but before I could act, he had already picked up the envelope. He opened the card, with a cartoon cat shrugging, and saying, "Happy 19th birthday, I guess. It's not 18, it's not 21, why even bother?" Pete had found it hilarious.

"What's this?" Neil asked, as the small stack of coupons tumbled out onto the table.

"That's the substitute I mentioned earlier," I explained. "I didn't want you to be completely without presents, so I made you something to tide you over, until the laptop gets here."

Neil looked at the topmost coupon, one for a free hug, and rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks, Mom."

"Hey, I remember a certain someone making me a very similar present many years ago," I teased him.

"Sorry. Thanks, Mom. A free hug, really? And another one? Are all of these hugs?" he asked, glaring at me.

"No," I giggled.

"Hey, this one could be pretty useful. And this one, too. Oh, what's this?" the last two coupons had gotten stuck to each other, and he carefully separated them. Apparently I had forgotten one of them, and it was still blank.

"Oh, sorry," I said, and reached out to grab it. I already had it in my hand, but he wouldn't let go.

"No, I want to keep it," he announced, and pulled it out of my hand.

"Why?"

"It's a blank coupon, duh. I can just write something in it, and you'll have to do it. Look, you even signed it in blood," he explained. At the bottom of the slip of paper was indeed a small, red, partial thumbprint. I stuck my thumb back in my mouth, and rolled my eyes at him. Whatever. He might as well have his fun.

"So now what?" I asked.

"I'm redeeming one of these right now," he said, and handed me a free hug coupon.

In grand fashion, I accepted the slip of paper, and tore it in two. "There. That means it's been used." And then gave him a big, fierce hug. "I love you, Neil."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you, too."

"You want something more to eat before the party?" I inquired.

He had made his own plans for a birthday party with his friend Zach. When he turned eighteen, he decided that he was too old to still celebrate his birthday with his own parents, and went off to do this own thing. That suited us perfectly fine, actually. Far less work, and I didn't have to try to play the host for his friends.

"Nope. I'm actually about to head out."

"Ok... well, in that case, have fun. Try to make it back home before midnight, ok?"

"Don't worry, Mom, I'll be fine," he grinned at me.

"That's not a yes, or a no," I observed.

"Very astute," he shot back, and was already halfway out of the door, before I could scowl at him.

That left me all by myself. I ate a slice of the cake, and put the rest in the fridge. The wrappings from Megs' gift were lying on the floor, and I tossed them in the trash. There wasn't a trace of what she had sent, though. Had he taken it with him? If he did, I didn't see it. The only thing left were the clothes. I folded the sweater and t-shirt back up, and deposited them in front of his room.

After that, the day was all mine. Cleaning, watching TV, wondering what Neil was doing, grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning again, talking to Pete on the phone, and telling him about my coupons (he loved the idea), and finally going to bed. I stayed up later than usual, curled up in my warm blanket, reading a book, when I heard Neil return. Five minutes to midnight. I was proud of him.

========== TUESDAY ==========

The alarm rang at 7:00am, and I forced myself to get up, made slightly easier by the fact that there wasn't a warm body next to me. I knocked loudly on Neil's door, until I heard him yell, "I'm awake," and then went down into the kitchen, to make some coffee, and toast.

Half an hour later, he came bounding down the stairs, freshly showered, and wearing his new t-shirt.

"Good morning. How does it feel, being nineteen?" I asked.

Neil rolled his eyes at me. "Feels exactly the same as before. Toast?"

I handed him a plate, and he grabbed the still warm slices of bread out of the toaster. He smeared some peanut butter on them, and wolfed them down, while I sat there, sipping my coffee. It happened so quickly, but he really had grown up a lot over the last year.

When he turned eighteen, he still had a youthful, soft face, but now he shaved every day, and his face seemed... sharper. More adult. He hadn't inherited that from his father, that's for sure. Pete had an eternal youthful charm about him, with smiles that came easy and naturally. Neil would definitely break a lot of girls' hearts, some day. Or guys'. As far as I was aware, he had never actually dated anyone yet, and I liked to believe that he would tell me about something like that.

"Bye, Mom," Neil announced, and got up.

"Have fun at school."

At the kitchen door, he stopped, and placed a piece of paper on the counter. "By the way, I'm redeeming another coupon," he announced, turned around, and walked out of the front door.

Curious, I got up, and picked up the piece of paper. It was the blank one, the one with my little blood thumbprint on it. Except, it wasn't blank anymore. It now read: "I, Holly Hill, present the wonderful Neil Hill a one time use coupon redeemable for: Being my son's whore. To be under his complete control, and obey every one of his commands, no matter how filthy or degrading, until my husband comes back."

I had to read it three times before the words finally made sense in my head. I couldn't believe what I was reading. What the fuck. His whore? I read the paper again, just to make sure what I saw was real. It was.

I ran to the front door, opened it, and looked around. Neil was nowhere in sight. I almost tore up the coupon, but decided not to, so I could confront him with it, the second he got home.

The more minutes that passed, the angrier I got. What the fuck kind of idiotic idea had gotten into him, that he would actually write that out? By noon, I had worked myself into almost a frenzy, stalking around the house, unable to think straight. By the afternoon, my anger had faded a little bit, but I was still fuming.

I couldn't believe that just last night, I had been so proud of him. The thought tasted bitter in my mouth.

Around two, I sat at the kitchen table, tapping my finger on the wooden surface. Doing that caused the cut in my thumb to sting, reminding me of that damn coupon again.

A key was inserted into the front door, and it opened. Neil walked inside, and I shot up. He dropped his backpack on the floor, and I stood behind him, hands curled into fists, trying my utmost to not start screaming.

"What. Is. The. Deal. With. This," I demanded, waving the little piece of paper in front of his eyes.

"Hi, Mom," he said nonchalantly.

"Neil. Pete. Hill. You. Answer. Me. This. God. Damn. Second."

"I think it's pretty self explanatory," he shot back, grinning.

I glanced down at the piece of paper, just to make sure that it actually still read the same thing. Why was he being so damn calm? There the words were: My son's whore.

"How dare you write something like that about your mother. Why would you do that?" I hissed.

"Because you gave me a blank coupon, and that's exactly what I wanted," he explained, as if talking to a child.

"I certainly did not give you permission to write something like... this!"

"Yes, you did. You even signed it in your own blood, see?"

"I—" The words got stuck in my throat. What the hell was happening?

"It's simple, Mom. You've always said that you should never sign something you haven't read, and you also taught me that you should always honor your word. So, either you honor this coupon, signed with your own fingerprint, or you declare right here and now that you have been a terrible mother, who has lied to her own son, and everything you have ever taught me is wrong. What is it, Mom? Are you going to be my whore, or are you going to be a liar?"

That decision was really easy. Everybody lied sometimes, it's just part of life. Even mothers lie to their children. I just had to tell him that things aren't so black and white, and then he could apologize for the filthy thing he wrote.

Except, I couldn't bring myself to say it. What was wrong with me? Out of frustration, I tore the coupon apart, and dropped the pieces on the floor.

"I knew you'd choose the right thing," said my son with a huge grin on his face.

"What? No, I—"

Before I could protest, Neil reached out, and put one of his hands on my breast. His hand was big enough to wrap around my C cups, and he gave it a good squeeze. Having my own son touch me like that felt incredibly inappropriate, and for just a moment I was at a complete loss for words. I should have slapped his hand away, but by the time my body responded, he had already withdrawn his hand.

"Wow, I always wanted to do that. It's way better than I thought," he commented.

"What in the hell are you doing? I am your mother!" I protested, finding my voice.

"Hmm, you were my mother a couple of minutes ago, but I just redeemed the coupon, remember? That means you're now my whore," he told me, looking me straight into the eyes. There was no fear, or remorse in them. No, there was only ice cold certainty.

"I most certainly am not."

"That's not what the coupon says," he argued.

"Fuck the coupon."

Neil picked up the two pieces of the torn paper off the ground, and considered them. "I'll think I'll keep these around as a memory for all the fun times we're going to have."

"Are you insane?"

"No, Mom, I'm not. I know how boring Dad is—"

"He is not boring!" I protested. Alright, so he's not exactly exciting either, but I loved him, and that's what mattered.

"Yes he is, and we both know it." Neil stepped closer to me, and leaned in close. His hand landed on my other breast this time. He started gently kneading it, and whispered in my ear. "You and I are going to have a lot of fun, my little slut. We'll start of nice and slow, but rest assured, it's going to get wild. You're going to be on your knees, begging me to do things to you that you've never even dream about. You're going to finally be able to completely let go of all of your morality, and just be the slut you've always wanted to be." He ended by pinching my nipple through the bra, and let go of me as I yelped in surprise.