Locked Down With Lavinia

That was one of the first times her behaviour gave me an erection. I was unable to help myself as I imagined what it would be like to be bound and dominated by Lavinia, imagined those stockings still warm from her body being lashed around my wrists as she tied me naked to the bed ready to have her wicked way with me.

It was not the only time. Her flirting and teasing was wearing down my resistance. Strutting around half-naked by day, dressing to kill by night. Playing out some strange Lady Chatterley fantasy with her "Gardener" in the day, reading the most erotic of her work to me every night. Did she even know what she was doing to her son? All I knew was that I both hated and yearned for her naughty stories, the proximity of her glorious body. My sexual fantasies every night were of the encounters in her books but not with the fictionalised heroines -- I dreamed of doing all those things in the books with Lavinia herself.

And then she ramped thing up with "date nights". She had been regaling me one evening reading a chapter of her latest novel about a cocaine-fuelled lesbian encounter in a nightclub toilet, when she flung her manuscript aside and declared; "God, I'm bored! I haven't been clubbing in weeks, let alone got off with anyone! You know what, Thomas, we should go out!"

"We can't -- the lockdown!"

"When you're locked down with Lavinia, she always finds a way!"

And so a day or two later a sound system, disco lights, a flat-pack bar and stools, yet more drinks and glassware, and a large load of decorating supplies arrived.

"Project for you!" Lavinia announced; "Get the third spare guest room looking like a nightclub by Saturday!"

"I'm off gardening duty then?" I asked hopefully.

"Oh no, dear, you'll be working on the nightclub in your spare time in the evenings, before dinner. Can't have you slacking off in the garden now, can we?"

So I spent every waking hour when not dancing attendance on Lavinia moving furniture out, painting and decorating, installing a bar, and setting up a disco and dance floor. I have to admit, it was a fun project, and I was quite proud of the end results. We had an upstairs lounge which really did look and feel like our little private bar and night club.

That Saturday, Lavinia and I had the first of our "dates". I was cocktail barman, DJ, and her escort for the evening, all rolled into one. My orders were to keep her glass full and the music playing, and to; "Dance me all round that floor!"

I was ready, dressed in a designer shirt and black trousers. Lavinia was, as they say, fashionably late. It had taken her a longer time than even was usual for her to get ready. But it proved worth it. She swept into the "nightclub" dressed to kill. The tiniest miniskirt I had ever seen her in, a glittery boob tube top moulded to her impressive breasts, metallic tights and knee-high stiletto boots -- all in silver. Which looked amazing with her golden tan, and even more so with what she had done with her hair. She had trimmed her hair into a longish shoulder-length chopped cut, and had died it from greying blonde to a deep vivid hot pink! She saw me admiring her figure in the slinky, skimpy outfit, and staring at her radical new look.

"Well? What do you think? Do I look dateable to you?"

Wow! You look like something out of a science-fiction film! You look like a movie star! You look -- " I was unable to deny it; " -- you look hot!"

She sashayed over, rolling her hips and emphasising every slow undulating movement of her body. She slithered onto one of the high bar stools, crossing those amazing legs as she did so. Without looking at me. She extended a hand; "Mojito, baby!" I made us both mojitos, handed her one. She drained it, still not deigning to look at me and ordered; "Again!" I handed her mine, then started on the next two. With a third drink in her hand, she started to chat and flirt with me as if I was another of the lucky young men who end up as notches on her bedpost. I responded awkwardly, not knowing how to react -- I'd have been terrified at the blatant come-on in real life, and of course I knew this was not a real seduction but just a game, a bit of fun. She did manage to coax me onto the dance floor, and we spent the rest of the evening dancing to a mixture of club anthems, golden oldies and cheesy favourites.

When we finally stopped for a rest and a drink, we were both quite exhausted.

"That was fun, love! And you know, you're a really good dancer!"

"You too, Lavinia. You can really move!"

For a moment, we looked into each other's eyes.

"Time for bed!" she whispered.

"Of course -- er, goodnight!" I replied.

"No goodnight kiss for your date? Just 'goodnight'?"

I reached in, embraced her stiffly and kissed her cheek. She shrugged, smiled and said; "You need to practice your technique, young man!"

Then she slipped off her bar stool and walked out to her bedroom, leaving me as usual to tidy up after her.

I had not completely disappointed her it seemed, as the next day she announced that we would be having "date night" every Saturday from now on.

"It will be a chance to imagine we're out of lockdown, and for you to practice your dating moves for afterwards."

So next Saturday we had another "date". This time, Lavinia told me to play 50s crooners and dress as if I was a member of the Rat Pack. We drank Martinis, and enjoyed an old-school night out. When we danced this time, Lavinia insisted we do it the old-fashioned way, in each other's arms. She looked stunning in a black vintage cocktail dress with seamed hose and high heels, her new futuristic pink hairdo somehow working with the retro look.

At the end of the night, she again had to tell me to kiss her. This time, intoxicated by her scent, her warmth in my arms, I kissed her -- very briefly -- on the lips. She looked up at me, lips wet and parted, as if waiting for another. This was dangerous ground. I was aware of exactly how turned on I was becoming, and stepped away from her with an awkward; "Goodnight Lavinia!"

She shook her head as if in disbelief, and left the room without a word.

Over the next week, she worked me even harder than usual in my role as her gardener. Back-breaking digging in the hot sun, and clearing out the old duck pond of its mud and slime. And she stopped reading her work to me. I felt she was punishing me for something I had done -- or not done? Had she wanted me to kiss her again? I had wanted to. Wanted to kiss her on the mouth long and hard, in ways I know I should never have even thought about.

That Saturday afternoon, Lavinia asked me to take in the washing from the clothesline. I went out with a big plastic basket to do so. As I reached the end of the line, I noticed the dress she had been wearing for the previous week's date. And hanging next to it were a pair of seamed silk stockings -- the ones she had worn with it. And next to that, I found a transparent black lace lingerie set. A bra, a flimsy pair of panties, and a suspender belt, all in fine, delicate lace. As I took them from the line, I could feel the material beneath my hands. This must have been what she had on under her retro costume. It reminded me of what Katy had worn for me that night, though this was more sheer, more expensive. Had she been thinking of that picture of Katy we had both fantasised about? Had she worn these for me? And why had she insisted I take the washing in? Did she want me to know about this outfit?

I returned to her in the kitchen. I had, as if casually, put the lingerie on the top of the basket.

She looked quickly at it. She made no mention of the sexy underwear.

"Be a dear and put it all away. You can just leave my clothes on my bed."

I did as she told me and put away everything except her clothing. I neatly sorted her clothes, putting the various underwear together, and putting the black lace set tidily on top. But first, I examined it more closely. It was beautifully made and very light, and delightful to the touch. Holding it against the skin of my arm I realised how transparent it would be on Lavinia's firm, golden body. Made by La Perla. The bra was 36DD.

A little later, after she had gone up to her room and tidied her things away, she mentioned casually; "Don't forget it's date night. I'm in a mood for hard liquor and heavy metal!"

This rather dashed my hopes that she would be wearing anything with the retro lace lingerie again that night. But it was also intriguing. So I prepared playlists and after a shower I dressed up in ripped jeans, an old black T shirt with a skull on it and an improvised bandana.

I was playing some AC/DC when in walked Lavinia. She was in high-heeled sandals, her legs in skin-tight black leather jeans which clung to every curve of her thighs and her pert arse. She too was in a T shirt, but hers was white and tied tightly above her bare midriff, the sleeves rolled to the shoulders. She had on a studded leather sleeveless vest, and aviator mirror shades which went strikingly well with that pink hair.

"Hey, is that your Harley parked outside?" she drawled, in some approximation of an American accent.

"Sure is", I replied in a worse one.

"Nice! Play your cards right tonight, stud, and I'll be straddling that big ol' thang, wrappin' myself around you and ridin' hard with you later!"

"Big talk, baby!" I retorted. Somehow the absurd scenario and fake accents made it easier for me to respond in kind to her flirting. To play the arrogant young stud to her red hot mama persona. This didn't feel like us, but it did feel like a date.

We had a great evening playing at biker and rock chick, downing shots of Jack Daniel's and dancing to heavy rock. At last, Lavinia asked me to play a slow song. I tried to think of something but the best slow rock sort of thing I could think of was Eternal Flame. As the Bangles played, Lavinia held me close and slow-danced with me. Her body felt good in my arms, the music was soft and romantic, and unbidden my lips sought hers. We swayed and kissed on the mouth for what felt like an eternity, smooching each other as we danced.

The song stopped. Lavinia looked at me expectantly, slightly out of breath, her lips parting.

I kissed her again, harder. I felt her lips press back hungrily against, mine, I felt her mouth opening to me...

And like a fool, I drew back.

"Lavinia! We shouldn't!"

She dropped the silly accent, as had I.

"Why not, darling? Why not? Who will know but us?"

She reached a hand out to stroked my cheek, snaked it round and ran her fingers through my hair, and started to draw my mouth back down onto hers. Rather than give her a chance to seduce me further, I dashed out and ran to my room.

I lay there for some time, wondering about what had happened and what the consequences would be, thinking bout the conversation we would have to have tomorrow. After a time, I drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

BANG!

I was woken by the door being kicked open, and the light switched on. As I blinked and adjusted to the light, Lavinia swam into focus. I gasped in shock -- and in desire!

Gone was the rock chick outfit. Instead she was dressed -- or undressed -- to thrill. Lavinia was quite naked except for a tight black leather corset cinching in her already trim waist and a pair of butter-soft thigh-high black leather boots with towering stiletto heels. Her body was gloriously exposed -- smooth strong thighs, curving hips, bare shoulders and arms. Her breasts, unfettered and free, were big, full, heavy, exciting and amazingly firm. Her pink nipples were achingly erect. As my gaze darted between her legs I saw that she was completely shaven and that she was wet with excitement .In her right hand was a long black riding crop.

Her face was a mask of anger and lust.

"No. More. Games!" She shouted; "You have resisted your seduction long enough. I gave you enough chances, enough come-ons, and you took weeks to realise. I've been teasing you with sexy stories in the hope you'll rip the manuscript out of my hand and start acting them out with me. I've been getting drunk and snogging you every Saturday night and you still haven't dared to go through with it. Well, no more. I'm not giving you any say in the matter. Tonight, we are going to fuck! Get up!"

Fuddled, still quite drunk, I obeyed. My cock was hardening at the sight of my mother in this erotic outfit, and at her display of aggressive sexuality.

"Good -- you're naked! Now get on your knees, Toyboy!"

To emphasise her command, Lavinia banged the riding crop down against her booted leg.

I dropped to my knees as she ordered.

"Yes, Lavinia!" I said, happy to comply. By acting as a dominatrix, she was giving me the excuse to do what I had been yearning to do for weeks. And she knew it. But she wasn't going to go gentle on me. Her arm lashed out, and I felt the sting of the whip.

"Yes -- what?" She asked archly. I knew what she wanted me to say.

"Mommy! Yes, Mommy!" I blurted.

"Good! Now, Toyboy, let's see how you perform!"

She strode up to me, stood akimbo with legs apart. I adoringly caressed her booted feet and ankles, then moved my hands up her leather-clad calves and thighs to the bare skin above. I could smell her womanly musk.

"Mommy!" I whispered reverently as I brought my mouth to her cleft and started to kiss, lick and suck.

"Ohhh, yes!" She moaned as I started to pleasure her; "Do it to me! Do it to Mommy!"

She started to sigh and moan louder, her hands gripping my hair, her powerful thighs squeezing my head for the first time.

"Oh, you're good! That little bitch Katy taught you well! But all she was doing was preparing you for me! Hey! I'm going to use that line in a sex scene! Oh yes, darling! Like that! More!"

And then she was surrendering again to the pleasure as my tongue delved deeply into her, teased and stimulated her engorged clitoris. Satisfying her, serving her, excited me as I knelt before Lavinia as so many eager toyboys before me had done, but knowing that it was I, her son, making her moan and shudder and scream in orgasm gave me a special kinky thrill.

She came loudly and explosively, then stood over me panting heavily, looking down imperiously, a queen, a leather goddess.

"So good! So wrong, but so good! Mmm! And now for the main event! Follow me, Toyboy!"

I stood up. "Oh God, Lavinia, I can't wait...ow!"

She had lashed out with her riding crop again, catching me sharply on the bottom.

"The only words I expect to hear from you tonight are 'yes' and 'Mommy' and in that order. Is that understood, Toyboy?"

"Yes, Mommy!"

"Good, Follow me!"

And she led me to her bedroom. There, I saw her vast king-sized bed had been stripped of its covers and pillows. And prepared for sex. There was a red silk bedsheet on the mattress, and four silver chains ending in black leather cuffs extended from under the bed at its corners.

"I saw how turned on it got you when I described tying a young rock star to the bed with my stockings and screwing his brains out. Well it's your turn, now. Lucky you. On the bed!"

"Yes, Mommy!" I said, and laid myself out spread-eagled on the red silk. Lavinia expertly buckled the cuffs into place, then dangled a set of little silver padlocks before my eyes. One by one, she snapped them onto rings on the cuffs, making it impossible for me to escape -- not that I would have wanted to.

"Yes, Toyboy. You are in my power now. When you're locked down with Lavinia, you really are locked down!" She pulled a hidden strap and the four chains tautened sharply, stretching me out helpless and unable to do more than writhe uselessly in my chains. Another padlock on this strap fastened my bonds in place. I felt afraid, excited, and definitely turned on by the sensation.

I watched as Lavinia took the padlock key and slipped it onto a slender silver chain then hung it around her neck so that the key nestled between her full breasts.

"You're not the first boy I've done this to, you know. Not the first young man who's been chained up in those. Not the first that Lavinia's had her way with. I'm going to tease you, Toyboy, and then I'm going to fuck you. This key stays round my neck till you've made me come. And if you come first, I will punish you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mommy!"

"Good. But if -- somehow -- you can bring me off before I make you spurt, then I am going to unlock you and you'll have a chance to do whatever you want to me for the rest of the night. Now, let's play!"

And she began to tease my naked body with the flat leather tip of the riding crop, gently where before she had been cruel. As she stroked me with it, she began to gently scratch me with the long nails of her free hand, then to kiss her way over my naked flesh, occasionally nipping without warning with her sharp teeth. Soon I was aflame and tingling with the mix of pain and pleasure her touch brought.

"Oh, look at you. Toyboy! The man I've made of you! You were always handsome, but now you're strong and hard, with muscles all over! Just how I like them! All for Mommy! And that big hard young cock! Oh, yes!"

She snaked out her hand, caressed then firmly grasped my straining, erect cock and started to wank it slowly, her fist sliding over the head and down again, deliciously. She kept up her torturous pressure as she kissed my throat, my ear, murmuring; "Don't come yet, darling!"

She wanked me mercilessly as she climbed up onto the bed, as she slithered on top of me, as she lowered her full, pendulous breasts over my face. I reached up to kiss them, but she moved out of my way, tantalising me with those glories just out of reach. Then she slipped downwards, kissing her way down my chest and stomach until her mouth was above my hard cock. I strained in my bonds to see as she slowly, wickedly, engulfed my cock head in her open mouth and sucked on it hard with her full red lips. She was breathing heavily, as turned on as I was. Her mouth was exciting, teasing, arousing. It felt so good it almost hurt. I moaned. She parted her lips wider, slid my cock deeper down, deeply down her throat, massaging it with her internal muscles. She slowly withdrew her head until again her lips and tongue were playing with my swollen cockhead, then again sucked me deeper down. I moaned and writhed in ecstasy, close to orgasm despite her strict admonition.

She kept this torment up for what felt like an age, until she withdrew her head, climbed back up my bound body, and raised herself up on her arms.

"Oh, that was nice! I haven't gone that long without a cock in my mouth since before I was married! Tempting though it would be to taste your spunk now, we both need more. Get ready to have your brains fucked out, Toyboy!"

Lavinia straddled me, pushed herself upright, raised her leather-clad thighs up, and lowered herself down tantalisingly slowly onto my straining erection. She groaned in pleasure as I penetrated her. I did the same. She was surprisingly tight, and as she began to bring herself down on me again and again she squeezed with her internal muscles, exerting a vice-like grip on my cock.

As she ground herself onto me, I thrust hungrily up into her. Soon we were fucking hard, as I lay bound beneath her, helpless except as a hard cock for her pleasure. She writhed expertly on top of me, expert, imperious.

"Oh yes! At last! The ultimate sin! I've wanted this for so long, and so have you my naughty boy! Give in to it! Give in to me! Come inside me -- I am your mother and your lover now!"

She was amazing -- a sex goddess in black leather, a wicked queen -- the most seductive and sexually talented woman I had ever encountered. Every man's darkest secret fantasy fulfilled.

Somehow, I held back. She increased the tempo and I matched her, pushing up and driving my cock, as swollen and big as it had ever been, deeper into her. She started to gasp, to moan. She leaned forward, teasing me with those big, delicious breasts. Somehow, I latched on to her right breast with my mouth, and started sucking and teasing the nipple. She groaned in delight as I suckled her, and gasped as I grazed the hard nipple with my teeth. She ground herself tighter and harder, I thrust back faster and deeper, as we drove each other nearer and near our climaxes.