Kink

I think the most shocking part for him was the fact that I was dressed and made up to look exactly like his very own mother, from the clothes to the hair. A man as rich as John has had his success story documented time and time again and there where more than enough references out there that showed a little of his childhood and pictures detailing how he became the man he was today.

In my research I found two pictures with his mother and her style was the same in both. She wore a black dress buttoned up to her neck with white lace trimming the ends around her neck and her wrists. There was no skin showing except her hands and face. Her shoes, which peaked out from her long hem that nearly touched the ground, were large and boxy, resembling men shoes of today. Her hair was pulled up, braided around her head like a crown. She was probably the one who taught him, by example, the art of taking control. She looked like a stern woman, domineering in fact. She was probably the only person in his life that he ever truly obeyed. When I’m through with him, he will not be able to think of his real mother without having the ultimate hard-on; the fact that I’m not actually her is irrelevant.

“Didn’t I tell you to be home at six o’clock tonight? It’s six fifteen and you are late!!”
Standing there with each hand on a hip I ordered him to come to me. He obeyed without question. There was a look on his face I’ve never seen before in all our years together. I couldn’t quiet read it but I could read the excitement in his body and see the hardness in his pants. I made a wise choice. He rushed to me and fell to his knees. He lightly began kissing my feet and begging for my forgiveness. “Please, mommy!" he said. “I’m sorry. I wont be bad again. Please forgive me for my insolence. Please don’t punish me.”

But it was too late. One must teach this boy respect for his momma and her rules. He must pay the price when he is a bad bad boy. He gently fell to the floor in a silent whisper. I watched as he bent low, kissing my ankles when I ordered him to keep his back straight. This made his back arch and his ass poke outward, a position I’m quite familiar with as a woman.

I quickly stepped back causing his face to fall into the floor. Raising my shoe I forcibly pressed his face into the ground, prohibiting any movement.

“Bad bad boys need to be punished for disobeying their mothers and making them worry. How dare you deify me? I know where you were. You were with that slut Tracey weren’t you? Doing filthy things with that filthy slut!”

“No, no I didn’t I swear. I lost track of time!”
I changed positions and instead of holding him down I used my foot to press against his head, pushing him back. Circling him I then used my foot against his side to turn him on to his back. My eyes followed the path of his soft fleshy body. The hardest thing on him is the one thing that caught my eye; the tent in his pants now obtained the attention of my shoe. Lightly pressing down on the stiffened pole I increased the pressure.
“Liar!” I screamed. “What the fuck is this? Why the fuck is your dick hard if you weren’t fucking that bitch, huh?”

“I swear mother I wasn’t. I wasn’t. It’s not for her.”

“It’s not for her? Then who is it for? Is it for me you lil bastard? You filthy lil boy. Do you want to fuck your mother? DO YOU?”
He said nothing he just laid there crying.

“You do know what we do to little bad boys who want their mother’s pussies, don’t you?”

He said nothing, still, softly weeping. I lifted my skirt and straddled his body, one foot on each side and moved up until he was looking directly up my skirt. I wore no panties. He saw my glistening pussy and his nose flared as he tried to inhale my scent. Bending at the knees I squatted down over his face. Not enough to make contact, but if he wanted to he could have a little taste, but I had a feeling that he wouldn’t take the risk.

“Give me your belt you filthy lil boy. Momma's gonna have to teach you a lesson.” His eyes stayed glued to cocoa brown pussy lips as he unleashed the belt buckle.

“Yes…Mother.”

Taking the belt, I held the ends together and I snapped it sharply making him jump. His eyes left my moist cavern and found the object of his objection. Then stretching the belt out to its entirety, I slow brought the soft leather to that moist heat. He stared, awestricken, as the hard strip found its way in between my folds. Onward he watched as I moved it back and forth, slowly darkening it even further with each slide. The rough friction was intoxicating, after a few steady strokes I had to stop in fear of cumming right then and there and losing all of my control.

“Get up.” I ordered. He struggled to obey. As he stood before me humbled and trembling I circled him slowly surveying him as I went. I ordered him to strip. When he protested he quickly got a short snap of the belt on his ass. No more protests came forth. Piece by piece items fell to the floor, revealing a bit more of his secrets, including the massive hard-on he was sporting. When nothing left concealed him, I stared at the protruding member. My look was critical and the longer I stared the more it seemed to jump uncontrollably. I took a step forward. He took a step back. My hand whipped out fast grabbing him by his balls.

“You dare move from me boy? I’m your mother and you must always obey me.” I ordered as I slowly began increasing the pressure of my grip. He moaned in frustration but he stood still.

“Yes ma’am!”

“Yes what?”

“Yes… Mother…Ma’am?”

I loosen my hold, but not my grip. Instead I moved toward his dick and I began to stroke it.

“What’s this?”

“My dick.”

“Your dick? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing. It’s… it’s hard, Mother Ma’am.”

“It’s hard?”

Up and down, slowly I moved, he was on the edge, I had to be careful.

“ Why is it hard John? Have you been a bad baby boy? You were lying weren’t you? You’ve been with Tracey haven’t you? You been with that slut, that slut of a girl, haven’t you?

“No.”

“Haven’t you?”

“No!”

“Lair.”

“Why else would your dick be hard if it wasn’t for her? I bet you and her were in your car or some cheap hotel fucking. Weren’t you?

Moan. No answer.

“Did you put your hard thick dick in her pussy, humm? Did she open her thighs, waiting for you, moist and wet, wanting your big thick cock to full her up? I bet you did and I bet you liked it didn’t you, you filthy little boy?”

“Did she suck it, did you make her wrap her soft lips around your hardness? Did you fuck her mouth with this thing? Did you fuck her pussy and her mouth with your lustful big dick Johnny? Did you? Did you?”

“No…no…” he panted with the images I painted running through his head.

“Lair! Why else would you be so damn hard, why else would you disgrace me, your mother, so badly?”

“You fucked her didn’t you? Wait until I tell your father what a nasty little boy we have, sticking his dick in any willing hole he can find, even a slut’s!”

“No I swear I didn’t touch her, not like that. We kissed a little.”

“She kissed your dick?”

“No.”

“You kiss her pussy then? You ate her?”

“No, oh god.”

“Then why are you hard?”

“I told you, it’s not for-” he stopped abruptly, tensing.

I stopped too; I stopped stroking him and looked him in his eyes.

“Ohhhhh. That’s right. It’s for me. Does little Johnny want to fuck his mommy with his big cock? You incestuous slut. That’s it isn’t it? You want to fuck me, you want to put your dick in my pussy, you want to fuck me and cum inside of me don’t you? You want to fuck the place you came from don’t you? Don’t you? What the hell makes you think a worthless bad boy like you deserves my pussy? What makes you think you are good enough? But you want to try, don’t you? You want mommy, don’t you? You want mommy’s yummy wide pussy wet and open, don’t you?”

My strokes became intensive, moving at the steady rhythm of my words.

“No… oh god… yes, yes Mother Ma’am I want to fuck… please let me fuck you mommy, please. I promise I’ll be good. I’ll promise just let me… just let me…”

He came. Massive globs of white sticky juices shot from his dick, upward landing on my dress in various designs.

“Uhhhhh.” I screamed, releasing him and jumping back in disgust.

“You nasty little boy! On your knees now!”

He fell almost instantly.

“You ruined my best dress! Clean it, now! Eat all of it off of me, now!”

He began carefully licking off his juices from my dark skirt. I watched as he found every spot and I pointed out a few he missed. He didn’t complain. He simply obeyed. When it was all gone I looked down at my wet dress.

“You idiot. It’s still wet. I can’t wear a wet dress! Take it off of me now!”

He obeyed again- pulling the hem up over my legs and over my head. I stood before him in a chemise and long white slip. My white stockings clung to the shapeliness of my legs, held up by the garter belt hidden from view. I was his mother to a T, with a few exceptions. One was the fact that a portion of the chemise was cut out so my hard nipples were displayed for his pleasure. The other exception became clear as I turned my back to him and he learned my slip had no back. Instead it was designed like an apron. It had ties that you wrapped around your waist. From the front the slipped looked ordinary but as I turned my ass was displayed as well. Here he had a clear view of my garter belt and stockings, my bare ass and my moist uncovered pussy from behind. As I bent before him to pick up my “ruined” dress my thighs spread and he could see my wet hot pussy, begging to be fucked. His moan of pain was stimulating.

Turning back toward him I looked down at him and saw that he was becoming hard again and the lust in his eyes was more pronounced.

“Look at me! I’m still a mess. You’ve made me dirty, you filthy boy, now momma needs a bath and since you caused me to be dirty you will be the one to clean me off. Follow me!” I ordered as I again displayed my ass.

I walked to the master bedroom and sat on the bed. Pointing to the bathroom I ordered him to begin a shower for me, for which he would bathe any offensive stains from my body. Within minutes it was ready. Standing, I made him undress me. First the top came off. His movements where unsteady as the tremble found its way back in his body. His hands somehow managed to briefly cup a breast now and then or find an ass cheek and even were so bold as to stroke the upper part of my thighs, so close to my honey pot.

In the shower I made him get on his knees before me and wash me from the bottom up, beginning with my feet. The soft soapy towel felt wonderful as each stroke of my instep, my ankles, my calves and my thighs aroused me. Soon he dropped the towel all together, using just his soapy hands to wrap around my curvaceous thighs and up. He followed the curve inward toward my waist and out again as his hands found their way across to my hips. Of course he tried to wash the most sort after place on my body, but I ordered him not to. How dare he try and molest me with his dirty hands and dirty thoughts. This was an act of punishment, not pleasure, I informed him.

Then he stroked and washed the panes of my tummy, losing himself for a moment in my belly button. Up his hands caressed me to the plumb mountains of my breasts, feeling their tightened peaks remain unmovable in their hardness. He stroked those too until I bid him to stop. Sitting back in the tub he looked up at me, awaiting his next order as water cascaded over his head threatening to drown him. Turning I provided him with my backside as he repeated the process on my back, again moving up my legs to the round curves of my ass. Here he became more detailed as he circled the protruding globes until finally he dipped inside to the valley between each mooned half and soaped and lathered me to the point of near organism as he played with the puckered little hole. Then upward he went, up the small of my back to the slenderness of my arms, my shoulders, and my neck. Now it was time for the final wash, the place I made him miss. Now it was time he learned to service his mother correctly. Turning back around I found him in the same position he was in when I first presented my back to him. This time I ordered him to sit on his hands.

“You will no longer use your hands to clean this last spot. You will use your mouth. You will clean every inch of my pussy hole you can find using nothing but your tongue and lips and if you so much as raise your hands or show any ounce of enjoyment I will tie you down to your bed and whip your little ass with that leather belt that is waiting for you. Is that clear?”

Taking a deep ragged breath, he replied, “Yes, Mother Ma’am. I will lick your pussy completely clean, not leaving an inch untouched.”

Smiling and nodding my approval I spread my thighs for his service. He slid closer for better access and I felt his hard dick slide against the inner side of my right leg. I decided to ignore the slow movements he made with his hips that allowed him to hump me gently, stroking himself, masturbating himself in “secret” against his mother’s body. Wider I spread my thighs so he could work his magic from the top of my mount to the connecting bridge that laid between my ass and my pussy hole. Sucking and licking, he ate my pussy in the most through matter imaginable, not leaving a centimeter of my cunt unlicked, unsucked, and unkissed. He had a remarkably long tongue that wormed its way deep into my moist center, moving in a way a dick never could, finding the edge of my g-spot and he licked just enough to leave me panting, almost begging for more before I remembered my role in all of this. Instead I pulled back, but he followed. Leaving my carven alone, however, he burrowed for my clit and wrapped his thick lips against it and pulled it inside where his tongue played with it, sucking me and stroking me in turns until it was all too much. I fell, from my position of power, against the shower wall behind him, nearing crushing him beneath me as I lost control. But in the end, it was he who caught me and made my landing gentler then it had to be.

“I got you, mother.” He said as he held me against him on the tub floor, shielding me from the harsh water sprays.

By now I felt his dick, not on my leg but between us, on the side of my stomach as I laid in an odd angle between his legs. Turning my head I kissed him. Our tongues glided and mated until wrapping his arms around me he rose to his knees and began to stand, lifting me with him. Adjusting, I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on as he lead us to the bedroom. Still kissing him I grounded my pussy against his cock, this time it was my turn to hump him uncontrollably. I felt my world tilt as he rose on a leg onto the bed and used an arm to steady our weight. He slowly crawled into the center of the king size mattress. He reached under the pillow and pilled a square piece of foil. Lifting and turning me he position me on top of him as he continued to ravish my mouth. Straddling him I took control, put on the condom and slowly began to sink onto him, engulfing him in my pussy as I moved up and down riding him softly learning my way.

Remembering who I was I said,” Johnny baby? Do you like that? Is mommy’s pussy as hot and tight as you imagined it to be?”

Moaning, his hands, which before were out to his side supporting us both so he could sit upright beneath me, found my waist and held me up, almost lifting me higher as he brought me back down on top of him.

“Do you like fucking me? Is it good? You know if you fuck me good, maybe this time I’ll be your bitch rather than making you mine.”

His grip tightened painfully and he thrusts became harder. Together we both moved, fucking each other.

“That’s right, fuck me. Fuck momma. Fuck me like you always wanted. Fuck me until I scream, fuck me better than daddy.”

His arms wrapped around me, finding my ass and squeezing, his mouth took hold of the nearest nipple and sucked as I bounced up and down on this thick-ass dick, fucking him as hard as I could in my now confined space.

“Fuck me Johnny! Fuck momma. Make me your bitch. Fuck me like I’m the bitch I am. Fuck me Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck mommy.”

Groaning again I felt my world tilt and I was suddenly on my back. My legs were spread open and up to the side, spreading me wider then I ever though possible as he lost control and rammed into me over and over and over again and again and again. He fucked me, pounding my pussy, rocking my world. The sounds coming from his mouth was like a wounded animal as he ripped apart my pussy with all his strength and might.

It was therapeutic.

No longer was he under the control of mommy dearest, maybe that will allow him to be less controlling to the ones in his life he loves now. Maybe.

Finally he stiffened and bucked and sprayed. Reaching down I found my clit quickly I gave it three sharp smacks and I joined him in orgasmic bliss.

After a few moments I felt him lightly kissing my ear.

“God I love you, Shabrie. Thank you.”

“You are welcome. Of course if you really want to show your gratitude you can always add a 20% bonus to the end of this week’s check? Therapy cost extra.”

Laughing he kissed me again and said, “You got it baby.”

Michelle…

The bar on Canal Street was smoky and loud, maybe because the game was on and all the locals came out to enjoy an endless round of beers, and to escape the hassles they have in their lives. The crowd was pretty well rounded with an almost equal portion of men and women, some together some not. I've never been to this bar before therefore I didn’t know any of the people. I was just looking to relax, maybe have a little personal fun before I met my next client. I was on my fourth Samuel Adams when I felt her sit next to me. I paid her no mind. I was too busy with rejecting the men who have been coming up to me the whole night, looking to talk, flirt, or perhaps get a number. I can’t name the number of times a disappointed patron walked away muttering phases such as ice queen or dyke. They just weren’t right.

I’ve developed an opinion that they started to bet on whom could warm me up first, if at all. I’ve gotten hit on before, but the increasing number of times it has happened tonight has lead me to believe it was more than my good looks. Along with the fact that everyone seemed to know everyone and I saw more than one pat-on-the-back of condolences for the rejected party. Yea, I was a bet. As for the names I was called. I think it had more to do with my outfit. My hair was flat and straight pulled back in a single bun.

I hardly wore makeup except for brown eye shadow and black eyeliner to bring out my eyes. My lips were penciled in for definition, but no lipstick to apply bold appeal. I wore no jewelry of any kind except a pocket watch whose chain draped down my side. The suit I wore was kind of boxy and loose. It did a very good job at hiding my figure without appearing to drape me like a sheet. In a lot of ways I resembled a dyke. I appeared to lack that feminine sexuality, at least in the obvious sense but my bone structure and appealing looks, even without a full face of makeup, testified that I was indeed a woman. Even the cigarette I was smoking sat limp between my unpolished and freshly clipped fingernails.

The girl beside me only briefly caught my attention when I heard her order a Samuel Adams. I heard the deepness of her voice, slightly appealing but not enough to make me look her way. Another touchdown was scored and the bar roared with life. I looked over at the screen and watched the home team jumping in excitement before regrouping for the next play. I ordered another beer. After this I had to call it quits. It was then that she asked me for a cigarette and that was when I fully looked at her. I was little tired of men at the moment.