In the days that followed, I moderated my behaviour considerably. Besides my daily routine, I added a new item taking medication on time.
To avoid any lingering effects, I temporarily shifted my focus away from my mother. Every day, I took my medicine, exercised, and aimed to recover as quickly as possible.
My 'good behaviour' during this time completely relaxed my mother. She thought her words from that night had a positive effect, leading me to repentance.
My father, on the other hand, believed I had just hurt myself accidentally. He occasionally checked up on me, obviously hoodwinked by some excuse my mother had provided-a situation that saved me from having to provide explanations.
A peaceful month passed. With my regular exercises, a healthy diet, and a month's worth of medication, I was fully recovered.
Over the month, while my muscles did not feel
extraordinarily explosive, their lines were more symmetrical, giving me a more masculine appearance. Moreover, for reasons unknown-perhaps the medication prescribed by the doctor--my physical strength seemed to have improved, making me feel robust and vigorous.
Stepping out of the hospital, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief. The shadows of the past month had been swept away. The final medical check-up showed no issues, which only uplifted my spirits further.
When I reached school, it was already time for the last period in the afternoon-a class taught by my mother.
December was gradually getting colder. However, my mother was still dressed in her professional black outfit, a perfect fit for her meticulous teaching style. Even though the school didn't have explicit dress codes for teachers, my mother always held herself to the highest standards.
My schoolmates knew about my beautiful teacher-mother, and they envied me. Even some teachers were exceptionally courteous, making my life quite comfortable at school.
On seeing me enter, my mother nodded and continued with her lecture. My 'well-behaved' demeanour over the past month had reduced her wariness towards me. It seemed she had almost forgotten about the embarrassing incident.
But now that I was fully recovered, it was time for me to regain my influence over her.
The class quickly came to an end, and it was time for school to close. It was our group's turn to clean up.
As my father came to pick us up every day, my mother always left with me. As soon as the class was over, she would start organizing her teaching materials at her desk, waiting for me to finish cleaning. During this time, my father called. My mother told him I was still cleaning, and we would leave a bit later. After hanging up, he continued to wait outside.
It took me about 20 minutes to finish cleaning. By then, my mother had also finished her work. We bid goodbye to the other students and returned to her office together.
There were four desks in my mother's office, indicating four teachers. Her desk was at the back, against the wall.
The desks were lined up on one side, and there was a passage of over a meter on the other side. My mother's desk was large, nearly two meters long. From this position, she could see the actions of the three teachers in front of her unless they turned around.
Looking at my mother sitting at her desk organizing her files, I couldn't help but fantasize about being the one sitting in that chair with her underneath the desk, the thought of which excited me. However, I knew I had a long way to go before my reserved mother would be willing to do anything like that.
After placing her teaching materials on the desk, my mother looked around the office. Except for us, there were no other teachers, and the office door was also closed. Seeing this opportunity, I was delighted.
After sorting things out, my mother stood up, ready to go home. Seeing that I hadn't moved, she asked curiously, "What's the matter? Let's go."
I made a disheartened face and slumped into my mother's chair.
"The check-up results came back today," I said.
At the sound of my slightly hoarse voice, my mother's heart skipped a beat.
"How did it go?"
"The doctor said that although the external injuries are healed, the vas deferens hasn't fully recovered..."
After speaking, I hung my head as if feeling very wronged, but inside, I was feeling quite nervous, waiting for my mother's next words.
"What do you mean?"
My mother, being a teacher, didn't have much knowledge in this area.
"It means I might not be able to ejaculate."
"What...? But weren't the previous check-ups all good?"
My mother was a bit surprised. She couldn't understand why things had worsened, considering that the earlier check-ups had all gone well.
"I don't know either. The doctor said it needs to be verified. If I can ejaculate normally, then it means I'm fully recovered. If not..."
My distressed look made my mother a bit flustered.
"Have you tried ?"
"Mother, I've tried, but no matter what, I can't. I was thinking... I was thinking maybe you could help me..."
I interrupted my mother, my head lowered, appearing very aggrieved.
"..."
My mother fell silent, her mind a whirl. What was she supposed to do now?
Seeing her silence, I continued, "Mother, you said last time that you would help me as much as possible."
My mother looked at me, unable to detect any lies, her heart wrestling intensely with the situation.
...