Mommy, Inc.

"I always wanted to do that," he said. "Now, find the buttons."

She had to get on her hands and knees, which ruined her pantyhose, but she found all the buttons. He patted her face as she knelt in the dirt to show him.

"Take off the jacket."

He undid her front close bra. Without being told, she took off the blouse and bra too. She was half-naked in the woods, a few feet from a busy road.

Michael squeezed her nipples, hard. A sparkle came into her eyes. A little spittle gathered at the corner of her mouth. He recognized the signs. She was getting aroused. Slut mommy was into discipline.

He took her hand and hustled down the trail. For him, it was easy. He was wearing sneakers. She was in high heels. She only got a dozen feet before the heels stuck in the dirt and came off.

"We'll get them on the way back."

Another thirty feet, and he stopped. There was a dark boulder, about waist high, at the bottom of a small hill. He made her stand facing the rock before pushing her torso down. The stone was cold and rough against her breasts.

He took a rope out of his backpack. That first day, when he told his mother she was going to be a whore, he and Eddie had discovered she liked to be abused. He had slapped her across the face a few times that day but found that even mild slaps left red marks and bruises.

He had substituted slapping her tits for slapping her face. It might leave red marks but they would quickly fade. Rarely was there any bruising. But slapping her tits had limitations. For one thing, she had to be half-naked for it to be effective.

Michael had done his research. The rope in his backpack was thick and soft, so it wouldn't break the skin or cause bruising. With practice, he found a snap of his wrist would cause stinging pain on exposed legs and arms. He had practiced in secret, so this was the first time his mother would experience a whipping.

He also took out an aluminum tube. A spreader bar. Collapsed, it was barely a foot long but it extended to almost three feet. Holes drilled along the tube would determine the spread of his mother's legs. Carabiners were attached to leather cuffs so he could quickly attach ankles to the tube.

Padded handcuffs and more rope came out. There was more that stayed inside, including a vibrator, nipple clips, anal plug, and a ball gag. What was the point of having a depraved whore for a mother if you couldn't have a little fun with her?

He attached the spreader bar to her ankles so her legs were far apart. The handcuffs went on, tied to small trees on the far side of the boulder. She was half-naked, bent over, and spread-eagled across the rock.

"The baseball field is on the other side of the hill. Spectators sometimes sit on the hill, so don't scream. If you do, people will find you half-naked and find me gone."

He pushed her skirt up and pulled her pantyhose and panties down. With her legs spread, they didn't go far. He took his pocket knife and cut them off. Time to revise the dress code.

"Only garter belts and stockings from now on," he said conversationally. "I want your pussy and ass always available."

He moved to the side to look her in the face. There was anticipation and a little fear. He smiled.

Michael picked up the rope and swung it hard against his mother's bare back. There was a loud gasp. He swung some more, experimenting with the strength of the swing. Every fifth or sixth swing, he would add some snap to the rope, some sting to her skin. He found a good rhythm.

Within a couple minutes, she was moaning. Her hips shifted back and forth. He checked her face again. She was drooling on the rock, eyes shut, breathing fast. She was enjoying the whipping.

He stepped close, pants down, and penetrated her. Thrust in several times. The moans changed to groans.

Michael pulled her cheeks apart. Put the head of his wet cock against the brown hole.

"Time to get your first ass fucking, mother. At least, your first one from me."

The groans changed to a long, drawn-out "Oh" as he slowly stretched the hole wider. The head went in and he continued pushing until half the shaft was in her ass.

"Do you like it, mother? Like your son's cock in your ass? You whore."

Mom nodded her head. She liked being tied up. She liked being whipped. She especially liked the cock in her ass.

Her pussy was wet, fluids running down her leg. She pushed back with her hips, taking the cock deeper in her ass. She wanted to scream "More!" but bit her lip instead.

Michael quickly came. She had fucked a lot over the years, and it had loosened up her pussy. Her ass was still tight.

Michael revised the price list in his mind. An ass fuck was going to cost a lot more.

He pulled up his pants. Put the spreader bar into the backpack along with the ruined pantyhose and panties. Her skirt was put in the pack as well, leaving her naked, still tied to the trees.

"I'll be back."

She swung her head around to look at him. There was only fear in her eyes. He patted her cheek.

"I'll be back. Hopefully, nobody will find you before then."

He drove to the gas station and filled the tank. He wandered through the little store and bought some beef jerky. The car didn't really need gas and Michael didn't really want beef jerky.

What he really wanted was to torture his mother by leaving her alone and naked in the woods. How many times when he was growing up, had she left Eddie and him alone at home while she went out to get drunk and fuck some loser? Payback is a bitch.

He was back after thirty minutes. His mother had a desperate look in her eyes.

"Please don't do that again," she begged.

"I'll do whatever I want to you," he replied, swatting her hard on the ass. "Whatever I want."

He untied her but left the cuffs on. She had to hold the ropes in each hand. A minor humiliation, having to carry the equipment of your own subjugation.

She looked for her shoes and clothes on the way back. They were gone. Michael had already put them in the car.

Miriam stood at the edge of the woods with her son. The car was parked at least fifteen feet from the trailhead. Traffic constantly passed by.

"I'm naked. How am I supposed to get in the car without being seen?"

Michael cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm going over to the car. I'll open the passenger door, walk around the other side, and get in. When my seat belt is on, I'm driving off. If you aren't in the car by then, I guess you'll have to walk home."

She looked at him, horrified. He held her gaze.

"I have to let all those strangers see me naked?"

Her son nodded.

"All those strangers will see me," she thought. "Naked. All of them will see me naked."

The look of horror disappeared. She licked her lips.

She wanted them to see her naked. Really wanted it. That was a surprise to her. She had never thought of herself as an exhibitionist before. Her hand went to her crotch and she fingered herself. She nodded.

Michael slowly walked to the car. His mother walked far enought behind tthat drivers could get a good view. She pushed her tits out, put some sway in her hips, and held her hands by her sides.

"Let them see everything," she thought.

Michael opened the passenger door and walked around the car. His mother stood near the road, waiting. Drivers were honking and waving. Giving her a thumbs up. His mother smiled as they went by. Michael put on his seat belt. He looked toward his mother.

Two quick steps and she was in the car. She tucked the seat belt behind her shoulder, where it wouldn't chafe her breasts.

Before they reached home, she had slumped in the seat, feet on the dashboard, three fingers in her pussy. She came as they pulled in the driveway. Michael parked in the garage and went inside. His mother followed a few minutes later.

A Professional Whore

It was finally time. Miriam had been sobered up (mostly). She no longer dated losers. For the past month, she hadn't dated anyone. Nice clothes were worn, and makeup subtly applied every day. Her hair was always in place.

Web cameras had been installed in every room of the house for security. Eddie or Michael would watch the whole time, making sure nothing got out of hand.

Business cards had been distributed. The marketing plan had gone into effect. The credit card machine was ready. Client's had been booked, background checks done.

It was time for mommy to become a whore.

"Tonight's your first client. He paid for an hour. Cock sucking, regular foreplay, and regular fucking are included in the price. Nothing fancy. Nothing kinky. No ass fucking or bondage. Don't get carried away. Eddie will be upstairs, I'll be downstairs if you need us."

Mom was nervous. She was used to eating at a crummy restaurant with a guy who wore polyester pants and had a bad haircut. They would drink too much and spend the rest of the night with him shoving his dick inside and her hoping to have an orgasm.

The client, whose name she didn't know, was spending $250 for an hour with her. $250! She was afraid he was going to be disappointed and want his money back.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Semitransparent blouse. A plunging bra that showed plenty and hid enough. A loose flowered skirt that was easy to take off. Underneath were a black garter belt and matching stockings. No panties.

Her red hair had been done by Miss Helen. Red pubic hair was trimmed. She wore makeup, subtle and nicely applied.

At the crummy restaurant, she would have worn a blouse that had been washed too many times. A skirt with shrimp cocktail stains. Panties that had started out white but now were gray with age.

Drunken slut. That was how her son Michael had described her. His drunken slut of a mother. And it had been true. For many, many years, her only ambition had been to get drunk and forget about her miserable life. To get fucked and pretend it meant someone cared about her.

Now she was a whore. Her son's whore. He had sobered her up, cleaned her up, dressed her up. Convinced her that she was worth $250 an hour and more.

"Well, mostly convinced me," she thought.

If things went well tonight, if the customer was satisfied, she might actually believe she was worth something.

If things went badly .... She pushed the thought out of her head.

Eddie stuck his head in the door. "Showtime!"

Michael and Eddie had rehearsed this with her. There was a protocol, a script, to follow at the beginning. That would help break the ice. She took a deep breath.

"Relax, mom. Just be yourself."

Michael had met the customer at the door. He had taken the payment. Cash or credit card only. The customer was escorted to the living room to await the appearance of Miriam, the high dollar whore.

Michael was at the bottom of the stairs. "His name is William."

She walked into the living room. "Hello, it's nice to meet you."

The man turned around and they both stopped, surprised.

It was the Vice Principal of Eddie's school. She knew him by sight but had never really spoken with him. She hadn't thought about the fact she might be whoring for people she knew.

He thought she looked familiar to him but couldn't quite place her. Then it clicked. Eddie's mom. The drunk blonde from last year's PTA meeting. Except she wasn't blonde and she wasn't drunk.

Silence while they decided what to do. Stay? Leave? Pretend not to know each other? The Vice Principal made the first move.

"William," he said, extending his hand. "We met last year, I believe. You are looking very nice tonight."

"Thank you. Yes, I remember you."

Miriam felt nervous, lost, confused. She forgot the script. Her first customer was someone who had seen her make a drunken fool of herself. She needed time to regroup.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Well, I don't know. I ... um ... I ..." He had only paid for an hour. He didn't want to spend half the time sitting in the living room.

She leaned closer, touching his arm, and spoke quietly.

"This part doesn't count toward your ... " She searched for the right word and changed tact. "It's like when you go to the movies. You buy a ticket for a movie that lasts an hour and a half. If you want to stop by the concession stand or chat with friends beforehand, you still get to see the whole movie."

"You have popcorn?" he joked. "A beer would be nice if you have one."

Of course, she had a beer. She went into the kitchen and poured a beer into a glass. Michael watched the monitor. Was she going to get herself a drink? Get drunk? Miriam nervously fingered the whiskey bottle for several seconds before pushing it away. Instead, she poured herself a small glass of wine.

"Way to go, mom," Michael thought, "Stay away from the hard stuff."

Mom gave the Vice Principal his beer, took his arm, and led him to the couch. She sat next to him, leg touching his, skirt slightly higher on her thigh than expected. But not too high. Enticing, not slutty.

Her hand rested on his shoulder as they chatted and sipped their drinks. She didn't toy with his hair or stroke his cheek. Intimate, not slutty.

The principal finished his beer. She took the empty glass to the kitchen. When she returned, she held out her hand.

"Let me show you the rest of the house."

"The main attraction begins?" he quipped.

She smiled and subtly moved her hips. Her skirt swished back and forth. She led him upstairs.

The shabby carpet in the hall had been replaced with a deep red one with a geometric design around the edges. Michael said it would make the client feel like he was on the red carpet on awards night. Miriam suspected William was not paying attention to the carpet.

She went into her bedroom. It had been redone in dusty mauve with off white accents. The bedding matched the room. The dresser, chair, and trunk at the foot of the bed were warm wood tones. Music was playing softly. The light was dim. There was a pleasant but unidentifiable scent in the air. It was homey and sexy at the same time.

Miriam hadn't thought all the redecorating was necessary. Once a guy was in bed, he wasn't going to care if the actual carpet matched the actual drapes.

Now, she saw why Michael insisted on the change. It wasn't a hooker's room or a hotel room. It was Miriam's room. Personal, warm, comfortable, and inviting.

"You have a lovely room," William said.

Miriam stood by the bed, put her arms around William's neck, and kissed him. Kissed him a long time. She undid a button or two on her blouse and kissed him again. With tongue. She felt his cock harden in his pants.

"I can do this," she thought.

It felt natural, comfortable. This was the kind of date she had wanted for years. The kind she had pretended to have as a teen. The type of date she played over and over in her dreams. Romantic, seductive.

She took his coat off and folded it neatly on a chair. She unbuttoned his shirt and caressed his chest. He pulled the shirttails out of his pants. The shirt joined his coat.

Miriam stepped back and let him unbutton her blouse. She tossed it toward the closet. He felt her breasts as she unhooked her bra. William sucked on a tit. She came close again. Kissed again.

He found the button and zipper on her skirt. It fell to the floor and she kicked it aside. The Vice Principal stepped back and looked at her. A garter belt and stockings were all that was left.

"Old school," he said. "I like it. I'm kind of old school myself."

She sat on the bed to take off his pants. He was a briefs guy. They went to the floor, on top of his pants. Her hands slipped along the back of his thighs, along his ass, along his back.

She stood and pressed naked flesh against naked flesh. His cock twitched against her pubes. Her hand went between his ass cheeks and found his asshole. She massaged it. He moaned.

Miriam knelt and took the head of his cock in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around. Lubricated it. Moved gently back and forth. Stroked the shaft slowly with her hand.

"Oh, my god," William muttered.

She looked at the clock out of the corner of her eye. Forty-five minutes to go.

"I'm not going to last if you keep doing that."

He lay on one side of the bed. She was on her back. He sucked a tit and played with a nipple. His hand roved over her body. It went along the inside of her thigh. She spread her legs a little. He toyed with her pubic hair and her outer lips. He didn't rush.

"I don't know about him," she thought, "but I am getting fucking hot."

She wanted him to put his cock in her. To thrust and thrust and cum inside her. To make her cum. But it would be too rushed. For once, she waited.

Her hand slowly stroked his cock. Her tongue was in his mouth. She kissed her way to his groin and took his cock in her mouth again. He lay on his back and groaned.

William pulled her head off his cock. He gently tugged on her arms until she lay on top of him. His hips moved, making his cock bounce against her pussy. She reached down and held it steady. He raised his knees, moved his hips, and his cock slid in.

He wanted her on top! She had never been on top before. Before she had been a drunken slut, not much sexier than a blow-up doll. Lay her down, stick it in.

Now she was a high-end whore. On top, controlling the pace, giving pleasure. It felt good. It felt powerful.

She matched her hip movement with his. They were in sync. They kissed. She raised up, her tits swaying over his chest. He pulled her down to suck her nipple. His hands went to her ass. He was thrusting faster and faster. She felt his cock throbbing in her pussy.

Thirty minutes to go.

He flipped her off onto the bed and turned her over. Raised her hips until she rested on her knees. Went in from behind. Played roughly with both nipples while he thrust his cock deep. Miriam alternated between rubbing her clit and fondling his balls.

He was moaning. He was moaning and going to cum. It was a shock to realize she was going to cum too. He let loose. She felt his cum fill her.

He kept thrusting, continuing on for her. For her pleasure. When was the last time a guy cared about her pleasure? The thought set her own orgasm off. She tensed and shuddered. She gave out with a soft moan. Her pussy pulsed as she came.

Miriam rose until she was sitting on his thighs, his cock still inside. William fondled her breasts and kissed her neck until his cock softened and came out with a soft plop.

They lay side by side on the bed, breathing hard. Their cum mixed and flowed out. She gathered some on her fingers and swallowed it. It had a pleasant taste.

She kissed down William's body again, cleaned off his cock and his pubes.

His hand rested on her crotch, her hand on his chest. He gently kissed her.

Fifteen minutes to go.

"Now, what the fuck am I supposed to do?" she wondered. "He's paid for an hour. He's still got time left."

"I was nervous about doing this," William said suddenly. "Two hundred and fifty dollars is a lot of money for a guy like me."

"Oh boy, he's going to ask for a refund. For the fifteen minutes."

"This is probably the best sex I've had since high school. I never last this long."

He rolled on his side and looked at her.

"You must have lots of experience."

She snorted in a very unladylike way.

"Most of my life I've been the drunk you met at the PTA meeting. Buy me a shrimp cocktail and a few drinks, I'll lie on my back and let you stick it in. Wham, bam. Not even a "thank you, ma'am".

She sounded disgusted with herself. He waited.

"My son turned me into the whore you met tonight. Michael, not Eddie. He said I've got talent, like an artist or musician."

"Lady," he said, "not whore. And you do have talent. This was love making not fucking."

He continued, "My wife is pretty conservative in the sex department. Missionary position, not too fast, not too slow, nothing remotely kinky. I love her but need more variety. Maybe once a year, I go to Vegas and hire somebody for the night. They're expensive. Vegas jacks up the price on everything."