A Mother's Girls-Weekend

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional incest or fictional incest content.

*****

Author's Note & Trigger Warnings

This is a 13K+ words short story. A 19yo son wants his 40yo's mother's SUV for the weekend. But he needs her keys and she is away at her annual girls weekend. The son decides to stop unannounced by her mother's hotel suite and ask for the keys, which the mother does not take kindly to when he does. Setting in motion her desire to teach her son a lesson with the help of her three friends. Taking advantage of their sex appeal, self-assurance, and the mother's power over her son, soon she, and her friends, have reduced her son to sex slave and proceed to use him hard.

This is thus both a F/m and FFFF/m story that features incest, MILF/college boy age gap, non/dub-con, teasing, humiliation and denial/chastity. Forms of humiliation and punishment found include CFNM, ball busting, SPH, bondage, pet play, furniture play, foot worship, cunnilingus, and pelvis and face dildo riding of a male by multiple females. Note than mother-son non/dub-con femdom humiliation can be intense due to the power imbalance and the contrast to the normal presumption a mother protects, and does not turn cruel bitch on, her own son. If any of these themes are distasteful to you, please do not read. If none are and you chose to read, I hope you enjoy.

Story

It was about 8pm on a Friday night when Alexander Johnson noticed the second key fob to his mother's luxury SUV, which he wanted for the weekend, was nowhere to be found. Alexander, or Alex, was a 19 year old college sophomore that had plans to go with two buddies and three girls on an overnight weekend getaway. And he hoped this would be the weekend he would get lucky with one of the girls, Evelyn, who he had set his eyes on for a while. Alex had his own car, a small subcompact crossover. But given the group was trying to cut down the number of cars they took, and that his mother's fancy set of wheels never failed to make an impression, he hoped he could borrow it for a couple of days and leave his own car behind.

That was almost certainly not a problem, because Alex's mother, Reagan, had another car, a luxury coupe, she often drove and was in fact currently driving. And she usually did not say no to Alex, who was her mommy's boy, anyway. But unfortunately for Alex, Reagan was away herself this weekend. On her once a year girls-weekend. And since that was an event that was sacrosanct to her, she was completely incommunicated from her family, unless it was a life or death situation in which case they knew where to find her. So Alex had nobody to ask for the key fob.

The Johnson family had four members. William, 50 years old, was Alex' dad and Reagan's husband. And Jessica, 17, was Alex' sister and Reagan's daughter. Reagan herself, 40 years old, actually went by Reagan Nieminen, her maiden name, which she had kept because she did not feel the need to change her name when she married her husband. Even though when William and Reagan married, he was already a successful businessman of 30 years old, and she was still a college student of 20.

The newlyweds had Alex one year after Reagan finished college. And two years after having Alex, as soon after they had Jessica, Reagan returned to school to get a law degree, and started practicing as soon as she was done. From there, Reagan quickly rose to become one of the top corporate defense attorneys in their state and the country. So Reagan became a woman that was wife, mother, and high powered professional all at once. Something she could do, because she had the persona to match. Being independent, strong willed, assertive, and certainly not afraid to buck conventions, or even taboos, in pursuits of her goals.

Reagan was something else as well, and that was that she was a stunner. Svelte, platinum blonde, with emerald green eyes, small but feminine breasts and hips, and an exquisite face most defined by her angular cheekbones, all of which she fully embraced to maximum seductive effect, she out sex-appealed girls half her age by a mile. Part of that was the result of her polar exotic ethnic heritage, her Finno-Baltic grandparents. And this sex appeal was best documented by one infamous incident that took place when Alex was a high school senior. When the graduating class of boys, a lecherous and shameless lot even by the standards of high school boys, set up an unsanctioned online contest to determine who was the hottest "hot-mom" or "MILF" among their mothers. Complete with vetted nomination processes, picture portfolios, and secure voting to avoid ballot stuffing--the boys took the integrity of their hot women rankings, of which this was not the first, very seriously. And Reagan won. Alex was in fact miffed by that. He did not want that kind of fame, and he had most certainly not nominated his own mother. But many of his friends had, and she had scored higher than the other contestants in the final tally. So Reagan was in fact more than just wife, mother and professional. She was a bona fide high powered professional, trophy wife, and teen certified hot-mom wrapped into one.

A woman that that weekend, when Alex needed her SUV keys, was away with three other women, three friends, who were a lot like her. Whom she had met over the years and created a wild foursome. All of them about to let loose and not be professionals, wives, or mothers, for a bit. But being themselves in other, more wicked, ways. Something that Reagan in particular felt she needed, and did not get often. When Alex, who should have known better, decided he was going to briefly crash his mother's weekend to get the key fob he wanted and then leave.

*****

As Alex drove his car a couple of hours away to the lake side resort hotel where his mother was staying, Reagan got ready with her friends for a wild night out. Reagan was the oldest, and in many ways was the leader, the hot-mom queen bee. But each of her friends could hold her own in the hot fiery woman department. Morgan, 38, was a high finance executive with one child. She was also a redhead, or more precisely a strawberry blonde, that turned heads. Addison, 37, was a top surgeon with two children. And a brunette, or more precisely, a golden brown haired babe, that stopped traffic. And finally Brooklyn, 35, was a top pharma executive with one child. And like Reagan a stunning blonde, though Brooklyn's shade was a darker honey blonde. Like Reagan, all three of her friends were slim, at least a little taller than average, and delicately fit. And like Reagan, all three had husbands who handled things for this weekend.

In fact, as the women finished putting the last touches to their night out makeup, Reagan meditated on the fact their husbands suspected some wild going-ons at the girls annual weekend. Her own husband, William, had once joked the husbands rumored they went completely wild, drunken bachelorette party style. But really they did not know the half of it! Drunken bachelorettes would recoil in horror and run at their exploits. Because even though they did other things during the day, at night she and her friends did one thing, and they did it very well: they preyed on men. Usually younger than them. Always handsome. Sometimes men hired as strippers, or hookers, or even pro-subs. More often than that, libidinous but gullible men picked up at bars. But always, prey. And they had lots of fun doing it, giving usually a couple of young men a night that was half sex dream, half social nightmare. And tonight they were getting ready to hit a good bar for that purpose, when somebody knocked their hotel suite door.

"Oh, oh!"

Said Brooklyn, as soon as the she heard the door knock.

"Somebody order room service? Or a preparty boy snack?"

Said the blonde playfully, and with a mischievous smile.

"Nope."

Said Morgan.

"Not me."

Added Addison.

"Me neither."

Finally added Reagan.

"Oh... too bad. I'll go see who or what it is then."

Said Brooklyn, who was done with getting dressed and made up to hit the bars.

And once she made it to the suite's entrance hall, and opened the door, was surprised at who she found.

"Oh! Alex. It is you! Your mother is here, but not quite ready to come yet. Can I help you with something?"

The moment Brooklyn opened the door for Alex, and he saw her, his manhood came to life. He always thought of her as hot as hell, but tonight she looked...oh...my... god. Like any young man's hot-mom fantasy. She had a pair of going out designer low rise skinny jeans that his college female friends would kill for. A red halter neck that sculpted her petite breasts, and flattered her slim elegant neck and shoulders. And she wore a pair of red four inch pumps that met every guys fantasy of death by orgasm. And that was before he got to her face and hair, the latter loose in blown waves, the former reminiscent of a man eating vamp, underscored by her crimson red lips. So he stayed slacked jawed and silent for a few seconds, doing a triple take of the woman before him. Before he finally managed to say.

"Oh. Brooklyn. Thanks, and sorry to interrupt. But I need mom's SUV this weekend, and forgot to ask her keys, or the location of the spare, in advance. So I decided I would just stop by and ask. I will be out of all your hairs' in a minute."

"Oh. Come in, Alex. Let me go ask your mother. She is still getting ready in the bath-and-powder room suite."

And Brooklyn left the young man, who she noticed grew a tent in his pants the moment he saw her, to give the message to his mother. Normally, none of them ever had family visit, or even call or text, during their girls-weekend. So this was a breach of both precedent and protocol. But Alex was not her child, so it was not up to her how to handle it. As to the tent in Alex's pants. Excellent! That mean she did an excellent job dolling up, and other young men like him would be suffering from the same mind debilitating affliction soon enough.

"Reagan."

She finally said to her friend when she got to her.

"It is your boy, Alex. He wants your SUV keys for the weekend."

Upon which the women all looked at each other, thinking that was not a reason to trespass their weekend, but did not say anything out of respect for Reagan.

"You got to be kidding me!"

Said Reagan herself.

"Unbelievable! The selfish prick! Thinks it all revolves around him! Thanks, Brooklyn. I will deal with him."

In fact, Reagan was thinking, and feeling, two things. One was that her boy Alex was indeed a selfish prick. The other was that he was dumb idiot. Both things deserved he be taught a lesson. The first, because he had to learn it did not all revolve around him. That she was entitled to not be a mother every now and then. Even if Alex was legally an adult and semi-independent going to college, it was like she could never be allowed to stop being a mother. The second, well, lets just say you just did not walk into an illegal drug dealing headquarters and ask for an aspiring for your headache. Or walk into a den of lionesses getting ready to hunt if you were nothing but an antelope fawn. If he did not learn that lesson he was just not going to make it to ripe old age. So incensed, and determined to give him a lesson in seriously tough love, she strutted out to the suite living room, with all three friends, finally done. in tow.

Alex's first reaction, when he saw the pride of all four lionesses, that is, women, was to drop his jaw all the way to the floor this time, and drool. He had already seen Brooklyn, and still sported a boner from the encounter, but he still assumed Brooklyn was probably just an aberration. An outlier. She was feeling vampy, or something, tonight. But Morgan, Addison, and... his own mother! Well, they all were qualitatively and quantitatively just as lethally seductive. They had all gone for a youthful look actually. There were no cocktail dresses or the like. But designer low rise skinnies, bootcuts, and one pair of slim fit black shiny club pants. Going out tops as well. Off shoulders, cold shoulders, and even one tube top. And pumps, booties, and strappy sandals with enough inches of stiletto heel between the four of them to drill for subsea oil. Hairdo's and makeup to match. And all the women were pulling it off without breaking a sweat. And if Alex did not know, for a fact, otherwise. If he were a guy at a bar that just laid eyes upon the foursome. He would swear they were all upper twenties, not upper thirties. And briefly it occurred to him, that was the point. They were all dolled up as boy bait. Then, even though he realized he just walked into many a young man's wet dream, four hot-moms dolled up to the nines, he felt more than a little trepidation about it. Like he just walked into something dangerous. Regardless, trying and failing not to be totally transparent, he found his voice to ask his mother.

"Hi mom. Sorry for the intrusion. But, I know you are using the Jag right now, so can I have your RR keys this weekend? Could not find the second key fob at home."

But even before he was done, his mother snapped back at him.

"Boy! First off, it is Reagan, or better yet, Ms. Nieminen, to you. Second, that is no way to introduce yourself. You have come to join us tonight, and boys like you only join us for one reason: to provide entertainment. So what kind of entertainment have you come to provide us with? To strip, to hook, or to pro-sub? Those are your only real choices unless you are a practitioner of some new brand of sexual talent I am not aware of."

At that, Alex was taken aback. He even recoiled a couple of steps. His mother's voice was cold, hard, and all business. Her eyes matched the voice 100%. And there was not a drop of the maternal, of the loving, in them. Then there were the words! She had instructed him not call her "mom". And to inform them what kind of sex work he had come to do!

Brooklyn, Addison and Morgan in the meantime all stood around the mother-son pair. At first they thought just to be friendly and say hi to the boy of one of them. But then a little, though not too, surprised to see the spectacle unfolding right before them. Reagan's boy stood like a deer in the headlights right in front of his mother. Yet Reagan showed absolutely no sign she was about to laugh, say she was joking, give her boy the keys he came for, and send him off. So they all held their breath to see if their friend was going to continue down the path she was on, or turn off it.

After a minute or so, all of which Alex needed to collect himself, he tried again.

"Mom..."

"Boy, you call me "mom" one more time and I will knee you in the balls."

Snapped again Reagan, and Alex was taken even more aback, even as he thought "she would never!"

"Mo... Reagan, I am sorry if I interrupted. Lesson learned. Can I have the keys, and I will go?"

"Boy. you still have not answered the question. And leaving after your just arrived... well that is just unprofessional. So strip, show us what you got, and we will decide what you are worthy for. Wont we girls?"

Woah! Thought Brooklyn, Addison and Morgan. She really is doubling down on this.

"Reagan, if you say so."

"If you are sure."

"I am game if you are."

Spoke Addison, Brooklyn and Morgan respectively.

"I am sure. And girls, he is for all of us. Do not hold back or feel you need to ask permission."

Hold back from what? Ask permission for what? Thought Alex. I am a person, and I am here! Feeling trapped.

"I said strip, boy, and do not make me ask you again. Or I will ruin you in every possible way that I can, and I know you know I can ruin you many ways, if you make me ask you again."

Alex thought this was all rapidly taking a turn for the surreal. The woman in front of him looked like a sexpot version of his mother, but had no mother in her eyes, voice or posture. And that was before she took two steps forwards in her stiletto pumps, only stopping when her body pushed against his. Pelvis against pelvis, hips against hips. Pushing his tent pole erection directly against her crotch. Then wrapping her arms around his neck, and reaching on her toes up to his ears, she whispered, seductively, at him.

"I said now."

When all of a sudden he felt a tsunami of pain spreading out from his groin. Making him go boneless all of a sudden. And collapse completely incapacitated on the floor. Before his brain registered a minute later, that his mother's knee --yes his mother's knee!-- had connected with his groin.

"Oh girl. You are wicked. Even for me. And it is not what you did. We have all done that. It is who you did it to."

Said Brooklyn to her friend, Reagan. But that was the moment all three friends understood Reagan meant business. And that Reagan was fully committed to treating her own son as prey. Normally they picked two men for prey. Best balance between outnumbering their victims and having enough entertainment for all them. They had done four sometimes. And one, when the one was special somehow. Clearly that was Reagan's implicit suggestion tonight. Three they never did, as that was an awkward number. And five or more they never did, since they did not want to be outnumbered. But one, Reagan's own son apparently, was the prey tonight. For the beginning of the night at least.

If he was not in so much pain Alex would have wondered when did he get off the wrong exit on the twilight zone highway. Because it did not seem like this was the real world. He was curled up in the fetal position trying to recover from a swift knee to the groin from a woman that looked and sounded like a sexpot version of his mother. But did not feel like his mother otherwise. And even if he was frightened of his mother's wrath before, now he was terrified of whoever this was. So even though he still was in discomfort, enough that he had instantly lost his erection, he did his best to get up and follow the instructions this uber hot but scary woman named Reagan had given him.

"Finally!"

Said Reagan, as Alex stood up and began to strip. First shoes. Then shirt. Then undershirt. Then belt and jeans. Till he discovered he really could not get himself to drop his underwear. Till he heard Morgan say.

"Reagan said strip, boy. That means all of it."

And he saw Reagan smile and nod. And he steeled himself to drop his underwear down, even if by now he felt completely on display with the four hot-mom's turned hunting posse completely surrounding him.

"Oh, my. That leaves a lot to be desired!"

Was the first thing Reagan said when Alex was done stepping out of his underwear. Where did that come from? This cannot be happening! He thought.

"It is not even standing up, but curled up like that it certainly does not amount to much."

Of course it is curled up! You just busted me to oblivion! Thought Alex even as he began to feel some blood rushing back to his penis, from the effect of his mother's sexually cruel words.

"Yeah. And even if we stand it up like this. It is what, three inches? What do you think girls?"

Asked Morgan as she picked up Alex's penis and held it up between finger tips.

"Moreover, these do not seem very weighty."

Added Morgan as she cupped Alex's scrotum with her other hand.

Please earth, swallow me! Thought Alex. Burning from embarrassment, as if from a fire within.

"He is at least a couple of inches below average."

Inserted Addison.

"My first boyfriend was like that. I felt nothing. So I wondered if that was all sex was cracked up to be. But then I slept with another guy. And another. And I soon figured out it was my first boyfriend, not sex, that was the disappointment."

Further added Addison. Who slapped his manhood contemptuously, as if it was her first boyfriend, after Morgan let go.

"And my first husband too."