Becoming His Mother's Maid Pt. 01

Story Info
Alex is forced to be a french maid for his mother...
4.2k words
9.9k
5
0
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

---

Victoria sighed, the silver-toned fox shaking her head at the door. Of course, it was her son, Alexander, but she didn't want to see him. That may have made her look like a bad mother, but, really, what else was the vixen to do? She was taking a short break from her acting career, though, more honestly, she needed a break from her son.

Alexander, though she liked to call him Lexi, had moved out...and not gone very far. He was always around, always broke -- and she'd thought she'd really done her best by him! At every turn with Alexander, she was tripped up, finding him acting out, not using the connections she'd given him, even if Vicky did not think that she had babied him either. He never seemed to manage to hold down any job, regardless of her trying hard to find him something that he liked -- at least giving him options to try out, to find his passion in life and the direction that would make him feel whole.

Yet...it hadn't come to anything, no. She sighed, brushing off her paws and headed to open the door where, yes, her son stood. In his tawny fur, he was a softer, more subtle shade, than her, rubbing the back of his neck, pretty and sweet, as he had inherited her delicate facial features.

"Well?" She groaned, stepping back to let him inside, for it was not as if she was really going to keep him out. "You'd better come in then... Is everything okay, Lexi?"

Alex groaned, flicking his tail.

"Mom, c'mon, I've asked you not to call me that, how many times do I have to ask?" He shot back, not realising that he was being a little snappy for someone who was coming to his mother to ask for help. "Look, mom... I've lost my job and I can't stay in the apartment either, Tay says that I've got to pay rent or he'll look for someone else. Can I stay here? Just for a bit?"

He didn't even say please and Vicky's brow furrowed, blowing out a sharp breath of air through her nostrils. Maybe a change needed to be had...

"This can't keep happening, Lexi."

She used the name deliberately, staring him down until Alexander groaned and looked away. She smiled minutely. Maybe things would come right after all...

"There have to be some rules now, Lexi," Vicky said, the door closed behind Alex but it no longer felt like a safe place to him. "I don't want you to ever be without a roof over your head, but this can't keep happening. You are going to get back on your feet, find a good job that works for you and grow up. For now, you can stay here, on the condition that you are my maid."

Alexander's head jerked up, lower jaw falling slack. That had never come up before! Sure, his mother had had a cleaner and he hadn't seen her around or her car in the driveway that day...

"What, like Sally?" He blurted out dumbly. "I can't... I don't know how to!"

"And you probably don't want to either," Victoria confirmed, knowing her son better than, honestly, she thought he knew himself. "If you stay here, you will both work hard at keeping the house clean and assisting me, of course, in any way that I require. You don't have to wear Sally's uniform -- but I do have a French maid outfit that I think would sweeten the deal."

The younger fox gaped at her, shaking his head, ears flopping, but it didn't do anything to clear his mind. She had to be joking, right? There was no possible way his mother couldn't be winding him up! But Victoria was deadly serious and he drew back, barely resisting making a rude gesture as he scoffed.

"Yeah, right, you're only saying that so it looks like you're being nice but you're not really," he shot back at her. "I'll go with..."

Yet he trailed off. Go with...who, exactly? He'd burned too many bridges and, as his car had been repossessed too; there was no one at all, other than his mother, who would take him in!

And that was not a good thing, no, not at all, not as he whimpered and folded his ears back. He didn't want to sleep on a park bench...and his mother couldn't be serious about the outfit, could she? He could sort of clean around a bit until he got his own place again, surely?

"Yeah, alright then..." He muttered, avoiding her gaze. "I'll do it."

Victoria hid her smirk, though could not deny the leaping in her chest, how her heart pounded as if in triumph. Alexander merely averted his eyes.

It would only be for a few weeks, Alex told himself. He'd get out and it would be fine.

Everything would be fine.

*

Everything was not fine.

The outfit... It was the worst part. Even more than getting down on his paws and knees to clean the kitchen floor, trying fruitlessly to get the mop under the freestanding oven. Alex muttered and cursed to himself under his breath, trying to keep his butt down, for the frills of the outfit kept wanting to flip up around his buttocks, exposing rather more of himself than he wanted to show off to his mother.

But she had been ruthless! It wasn't just light dusting and moving things around, trying to make a pretence at tidying up around the place, oh no. It was far more than that, scrubbing the floors, washing the exterior walls, even trimming the garden bushes! Yet the majority had been inside and he had been allowed, somewhat, to complete the exterior tasks when no one else had been around, which was a tiny blessing.

Still, he found shortcuts in whatever it was that she told him to do, for Vicky could not stand over him at all times. He used the wrong cleaning fluid (what did he know of what it was called?) in the mop bucket, bleaching some of the kitchen floor tiles; he left glass circles on the coffee table; the living room carpet was left with bits of lint stuck in it. Even though he liked things clean himself, he didn't want to do it for himself. After all, his mother had done it for him and he had been okay with "good enough" when he had had to keep his room and clothes clean, way back when he had lived with his mother full-time.

Vicky, however, noticed, stewing more and more. She snapped at him and pointed out his mistakes -- yet she was not a fool! She saw that cheeky little grin that her son was giving, thinking that she would give up more easily, let him off with his punishment, even though it was only the black and white French maid outfit that was a punishment, really. The rest was just a part of keeping a house tidy -- and it was about time that he learned that and learned it properly. She wracked her brain, trying to work out when her teachings of him had gone wrong, but, before, Victoria had just thought that she and her son had had different standards of cleanliness.

Laziness, however, should not have factored into that. Not one little bit.

"Lexi!" She admonished him, tapping the toe of her shoe on the hallway floor as he swept his feather duster along the top of picture frames, barely even touching them. "If you're not going to do it properly then what is the point in you doing any of it in the first place? This is a job as much as any other, and part of looking after a home for yourself too. I would show you again, but there is only so much to dusting, Lexi."

He grumbled, ears pinned, sullenly clamping his tail down.

"Don't call me that..." He muttered. "Mom, this is embarrassing, you can't expect me to do more than this. It's fine, it's all fine."

"There's dust everywhere, Lexi."

She ignored his wish to be called by another name. She'd caught his squirm, something pulling deep inside her, a need to put him in his place. Vicky frowned and ran her fingers across the top of the wall-hanging picture frame, bringing up a thick layer of dust that almost looked like her son had managed to add more dust instead of taking it away.

"That's it," she said, her heart dropping an octave, muscles tensing, thighs locking up. "You're going to be punished, Alexander. Or, here is the ultimatum: you can either be fired and leave this house right now, or you can submit to a spanking. If you're going to act like a fox-kit, you can be treated like one."

"And you won't leave here with your clothes either," Vicky added hurriedly with a tiny smirk as he baulked visibly, eyes widening. "Oh no... Those are in the wash and you won't be hanging around for them either. You'll leave here in the maid's outfit and the heels too, looking all cute and pretty, if you don't agree. The choice is yours, boy, but it's time you learned discipline."

Maybe Vicky had been too soft on him, all that time when he had been growing up, but it was too late for the vixen to do anything other than correct the course of it. She just wanted to see her son up and doing well in life, though there was something about the French maid's outfit that had made her weak at the knees too. It was not something that the silver vixen would have ever wanted to wear for herself, but it set off his dainty, fine features, the hue of his tawny fur, even the white tip of his tail when it flicked back and forth. The slightest shift of the younger fox's body set the frilly material rustling lightly and her ears twitched, adoring the sound, such a simple sound. And yet it could be so potent.

Alex squirmed. What the hell was his mother thinking? None of that was part of their agreement! And getting spanked... He wasn't a cub, no! She couldn't treat him like that, it would be humiliating!

And yet the thought of strutting out on the street in the moderate black heels and the full dress, being catcalled and shouted at... He whined, shaking his head back and forth, clutching at his ears. No... That would be even worse.

His mother had never been like that before! Yet Alex did not feel as if he had any choice or say in the matter and, perhaps if he wanted to have a roof over his head still, he did not. His tail tucked down under the dress as if that was the only way left for the fox to protect his rump. A tail, on the other paw, was not going to do anything at all to get his mother to back off.

"Okay..." He muttered. "I'll do it...and clean better."

That was how he found himself set up over her lap in the living room, on a hard-backed chair that was still comfortable for his mother. He rested his paws on the carpet on the other side of her, blushing fiercely, as she pushed up his skirts to get to his buttocks. She left the plain, black underwear in place for the moment, for which Alex was grateful -- and there was very little for the fox to be grateful for at that time, considering how sharp the first slap of her paw coming down on his soft, unprotected rump was.

SMACK!

"Aaaaiiiiieeee!"

He wailed, tears leaping to the corners of his eyes -- but a single smack was not it! His mother was relentless, raining spank after spank down on him, making his softer flesh jiggle and bounce in ways that Alex had not even thought possible. He had muscle there, of course, but it did not feel all that firm as she spanked him, the smack of her paw connecting with his backside echoing through the sitting room where she had chosen to take him. Everything was fine and clean in there, though not due to his work, and he cried out, a couple of tears dropping from his eyes, rolling down his muzzle, even as unbidden heat curled through him.

Somehow...there was a part of the fox that was enjoying it, blinking in amazement. If his mother had not had her other arm across his lower back, pinning him in place, he'd have wriggled right off her. As it was, all the fox could do was swallow a groan as something warm and prickling seeped through him, pooling in his crotch.

And his cock throbbed, lust rising, unbidden and unwanted. He couldn't do anything about it, however, kicking his legs weakly in the black heels, panting heavily.

It was wrong, all wrong... He shouldn't feel like that just because she was beating his ass! It was weird, far, far too weird for his liking, yet the fox had always been on the more submissive, amenable side, always trying to smooth things over for others. That didn't mean, of course, that Alex went out of his way to make things easier for anyone else -- as seen with his rather lacklustre cleaning -- but he could follow direct orders and take a spanking, apparently.

The heat built and built, though he desperately tried to hide it, barking and snapping and complaining breathlessly. He couldn't let his mother see how much she'd gotten to him, arching his back and pushing away from her, just to try to make sure that his erection would not grind into her leg at all.

"Unff... Okay, mom -- ah! -- that's enough..."

"No, Lexi, I don't think you understand yet," his mother murmured, caressing his backside, raking her nails over his sore rump as he hissed in a sharp breath. "Your butt looks so cute like this, I should see more of it..."

She tugged down his underwear, thinking that she'd have to get him something more girly still, something that suited the outfit better. Perhaps a pair with frills? Pink would be lovely, but black and white ones to match the French maid outfit would most likely be the best suited, cupping and caressing his little backside all day long.

Yet she leaned in closer and closer, spanking his bare buttocks, underwear tugged down far enough to hide his balls from view as he lay over her lap, whimpering and gasping. His complaints softened and eased, though she made sure to give him time to adjust between spanks, groping him lightly under the guise of making sure that he was okay. It may have been a punishment, but it was not meant to leave any permanent marks on her son either.

"You're doing better, Lexi," she praised lightly, noticing how his ears pricked up and smiling warmly. "You're almost done..."

For she just wanted to push it a little further, hungry for something that the older vixen could not put a name to. There was something there, something that loved being in control, something that adored having her son sprawled across her lap in that way, weak and helpless and punished by her. His cheeks were hot with humiliation but Vicky chanced that she caught a smile on his lips from time to time, the ghost of a moan under his grunts of pain.

And then there was the matter of his subtle erection grinding into her lap. Yes, she had noticed that too, her eyes wandering down his shapely legs, to those heels, pressing her thighs together, even if the vixen had nothing to conceal. She just wanted to see what was there, biting her lip and, finally, drawing back a little to survey her work, the ruffled lines in his fur, the sensitivity of his skin as she raked her nails across his heated rump.

"You're done," she said, suddenly hotter under the collar than she had realised, her long skirt rustling faintly around her legs. "Up, Lexi, up."

To her surprise, he did as she asked, standing there with his paws hanging loosely, almost submissively, in front of his body. Vicky swallowed hard, her mouth dry.

"Fetch me a glass of wine, Lexi."

He moved to obey instantly. It felt easier, somehow, after being spanked and humiliated, though Alex was glad, at least, that his hard-on had subsided. He grabbed the ice bucket, filled and ready, and the bottle of wine too, just in case his mother wanted more, as it was getting into the evening.

But he didn't know what had happened, why everything with his mother was suddenly screeching out of control, all in a way that he could neither have ever expected nor anticipated. His body was warm and tingling, horny for more, though he could never have thought that he would enjoy being spanked like that. Honestly...it had not even felt like all that much of a punishment to him.

Vicky watched him, talking with her son as if nothing had happened, Alex seating himself on the other end of the sofa from where she had perched comfortably. The wine cooled her throat and she quickly finished a glass, though it didn't do anything to ease their stilted, jolting conversation.

Lexi partook in the wine too, but he asked permission that time. That was interesting, very interesting, and sent heat to pool in the core of her being in a way that the vixen had not felt in many years.

"Lexi..." She growled softly, running her tongue along her upper lip and across part of the side of her muzzle. "Don't think I didn't feel your hard-on when you were over my lap... Even if you are a little under-endowed, my boy..."

That was a lot for him, a lot more than his mother had ever said. Yet what could Alex do but squirm, shrinking into the corner of the sofa? His mouth clamped shut in a hard line, the wheel already turning for them, as if it had always been their fate to come together like that.

His mother's scent lay thick and heavy in the air, the richness of her natural aroma mixing with the elegant rose perfume, though he shouldn't have known exactly what she was wearing. It was just something that he had paid attention to, once upon a time, and leaned in a little closer, as if his body really wanted to close the gap between them.

His mother moved her legs apart, the wine making her bold. It was now or never.

"Why don't you come here and show your mother just how much you appreciated being put in your place, son?"

She spread her legs for him, hitching her long skirt up lightly around her hips, bolder than she had been in a long time. And yet it felt right, as if it was something that had always been meant to happen.

In but a moment, his body jerked into motion of its own accord, easing down between her legs and following the guiding pressure of her paw leading him up to her pussy.

And then Alex knew little else as Vicky crooned "Lexi" at him and his tongue came out instinctively, knowing what to do. He lapped and lapped, falling into a kind of rhythm, for all he had to do was listen to his mother.

"Ah... A little more inside, Lexi..."

"Mmmm... Don't forget the clit too, lots of attention there. I might have allowed you to penetrate me, you know, if only you were a little bigger... But you'll have to just use your tongue, Lexi, since you're not."

Slowly, but surely, not even thinking of her, at that time, as his mother, he pleasured her. Her thick, tart juices clung to his lips and muzzle, winding around his tongue, dragging him deeper and deeper into the experience. Perhaps it helped too that his ass was still smarting from the spanking and he'd even had to keep his butt slightly elevated when he had been up on the sofa with her, for the pain had been too much.

Better to linger in the moment, to lap deeper and deeper, not bothering with foreplay, swirling his tongue around and around her clit, just as she directed him. He sank into the experience, ears submissively splayed and his eyes half-closed, for Lexi did not need to be able to see to give his mother the pleasure that she had requested of him.

He just had to submit. He just had to obey.

Vicky moaned, barely able to believe that it was really her son down there between her thighs, even as orgasm built and snapped at the back of her mind with feral urgency. She bucked up against him, grabbing his head and forcing his nose deep, yelping as orgasm too her. And yet the vixen was there to ride out every throbbing pulse and wave of it, her pussy squeezing down on nothing at all as his tongue played attentively over her clit, drawing out her orgasm.

Yet it wasn't enough as he licked off her juices from her soft folds and his muzzle, diving back in again as if he had become single-minded. She was sensitive after the first orgasm and yet she still arched back up against him, groaning for more.

12