Locked in the Closet Pt. 04

"I still have forty-five minutes," she said, and he started to tremble in fear. "Yes, and if you're lucky I will spare of few of those minutes on you."

Fifteen minutes! Only fifteen minutes? His body, he was shaking all over, drowning in sweat. Knowing made it all the worse as he continued to serve her. His lust mingled with humiliation as she continued to call him slut, whore, a piece of meat. It felt like hell, her cruel whippings. To hear his mother speak to him like that, like a worthless bug, made him cry inside his mask. Only her shoes against his rock-hard cock reminded him that he belonged here. It wasn't she who did anything wrong. It was him. She didn't know. He did. And he still lapped at her streaming pussy, still felt himself grow harder every second. His aunt had been right. He deserved to be treated like this.

"I've paid for you," she moaned in satisfaction as she came another time, marking him with her scent. He lapped it from his chin, almost collapsing on top of her. Only her foot stopped him. She pushed him all the way down on the floor. He tried to raise himself, but again her foot stopped him, sharp heel pressing against his naked chest. She dragged a red line over his open belly, before pressing it against his cock, rubbing it from the outside. She could hurt him if she wanted to. He was just a whore. As he looked at her face, he started to believe it. He almost forgot about the mask, imagined that she could see him, her son, lying there at the mercy of her feet. Reaching up with his arms, he at least stopped himself before crying out to her.

"You want to say something to me!" she shouted. It sounded real, but she was still trembling with excitement. One of her hands continued to finger at her pussy, while the other found the leash again, pulling him up against the tip of her heel.

He shook his head, turned his face away.

"No?" She spat at him. "Filthy whore, you have nothing to say to me! I could throw you in the trash if I wanted to. Get up here!"

Lifting her foot, he fell against her soft legs, thigh pressing against his naked chest. But she shoved him off, and with his clumsy hands he finally crawled his way up on the bed. The sheets were wet and tangled from her juices.

He almost screamed as she used his pants to drag him to the side of the bed. She got down on her knees, glaring at him. She looked as if she had downed a whole bottle of vodka by herself. But she licked at her rosy lips in anticipation as he felt her crawling hands freeing him from his pants and underwear.

"You're disgusting," she said as she saw it. But the hunger in her eyes betrayed her. Lowering her mouth, she trembled all over even as she took him in. She pulled the hair from her face, irritated by it. She looked like his aunt, swallowing him, curving her soft lips around him. She felt like her too.

As if she was disgusted with herself, she pulled herself away with a popping sound. But as she stared at it with lustful hatred in her eyes, her hand came up to stroke it.

"This is mine," she said as she once again engulfed him, licking him all across his dripping cock every time she came up for air. He freely let his drool fall on his chest. He couldn't look away.

Then she slowed down. Kissing his tip, tongue flicking out, she looked a little modest all of sudden as she continued to stroke him and suck on him with hesitation. She was blushing.

"Oh, this is so good," she moaned, her cheek pressed against it. "So soft. So hard. I wished you had time to fuck me. Next time, maybe..."

Holding back a cry, he clawed against the bed with his useless hands.

Once again stroking on his cock she looked up at him, lifting her other hand to tickle him across the belly, along the sharp, red line that she had left on him earlier. "You're so soft. How old can you be? Not much older than..."

Turning her voice down, her head away, she whispered something that he couldn't hear. Pulling her hand off his belly, she blushed all over her cheeks.

"But I'm a good mom," she said as she covered him in kisses. "I'm a..."

He felt the breaths on his cock as she started to moan against it. She must have left his belly to rub at herself. He heard a wet sound, and when she once again touched him over his sensitive skin her fingers glistened with juices.

Hand-thing over his mouth he sighed as she took him further and further along the way. But she wasn't like her sister at all. Her hunger was different. She didn't suck his cock just to control him. She liked the feel of it, the taste. She barely even looked at him anymore. The hand on his belly left new scratches all over his skin.

"You can't stop me," she said, matter of fact, as he started to convulse in her hand. "I bought you. I get to do anything I want. You don't have a say in this."

She swallowed him in her rosy mouth, just in time. He felt the vibrations as she sighed and moved herself around it, milked every spurting drop from him. Releasing him to her hand again she licked his entire length. She cuddled against it, tried to keep it alive. But as it softened, she let it drop between his shaking legs. She wiped her lips with her fingers, sucked them clean.

"Useless," she said.

Standing up she went to the table next to the bed. Wiping herself off with a napkin she cast a calculating glance at him before disappearing into the living room, the clicking sound of high heels haunting him as they continued to the back of the house. After a while he heard a toilet flush. Then steps again, a slamming door.

He looked at the clock on the bedside table. She had used him for fifteen extra minutes. Turning over on the sweat covered sheets he wondered what his aunt would think about that, before falling into a dreamless sleep.

His aunt awoke him by nibbling at his ear. She had taken off his mask, but he still wore his gloves. Besides, he was exhausted, completely run dry. His lips were parched, his tongue swollen. Her body lay on top off him, dragging her limbs all over his. Her thigh pressed against his cock. It stood in his pants again. She'd tucked him in. All around him the smell of his mother hung in the air.

"Sleep well?" she asked.

He groaned against her touch. Her hand had joined her thigh. He couldn't speak as the pleasure turned to pain.

"She's very pleased, your costumer," she continued. "I almost wished that I could make her pay for you. She would. But I couldn't. That wouldn't be right. Not to my own sister."

He shuddered. "What time is it?"

"Late, we'll stay in the cabin till morning. Get the most of it."

Pressing still harder he almost came in his pants.

"Your mother wants to see you again this Wednesday," she whispered in his ear, nibbling at him again. "Something going on at work."

Moving down his neck she ended up pecking him on the cheek. She gripped him firmly by the jaws, to get his attention.

"She asked if I could have you at my place. I said yes."

Gliding her fingers around him, pushing them down on either side, she smiled as his body started to protest underneath her.

"She was glowing, like she used to," she mused. "She could be happy again, finally."

He saw his mother again, beautiful, terrible, calling him a whore, and... treating him like one. Tears rolled down his face.

"This is how it will be from now on," she whispered in the darkness.

Freeing him, she started to stroke his cock between their bodies. She didn't stop until he came, covering them both with sticky, white cream.

"You filthy thing," she chuckled. "Who will clean this up?"

The end.