Mother's Helper Ch. 09-18

Chapter Nine — Graduation Night

Her son's high school graduation was fabulous, although Janice barely heard a word. She was lost in a reverie about that afternoon's pool party with him. Matt had had no compunctions about goading her into removing her bikini top. He'd shown no leniency when he drove her sweating tits into the hot sun block. He'd savored the sight of her rubbing greasy lotion all over her tits like a wanton slut. If he'd informed her beforehand, she would have never acquiesced to him binding her nude breasts or stuffing her pussy slit.

Finally, she'd gotten her hands on Matthew's thick prick and given him the release that any healthy teenager deserved. How could she know he would shoot his huge load all over his mother's face? As for the metal tube dildo he left, it was only fair that, since he'd cum, she should be able to satisfy herself as well.

It wasn't her fault that Matt had broken up with his girlfriend a month ago and, as gorgeous as he was, had not started up with anybody new. Perhaps that was because he was leaving soon for college?

After the ceremony, the students partied at the gym while Janice went to the country club, where a large group of friends and teachers celebrated. After 1:00 am, Matt received a call on his cell phone from Janice's cell, so drunk that he had difficulty understanding her. She asked him to pick her up right away at the club; she was too drunk to drive. "I was on my way home anyway, so I'll be right over," he said.

When he drove into the parking lot, he saw her outside the clubhouse in the shadows, wiping off her face with a wad of tissues. He thought she looked hot in her short skirt and low-cut blouse, leaning against the wall beneath a 3/4 moon. Then he realized with alarm that her hair was disheveled and infested with clumps of creamy goo, her lipstick smeared, her blouse had been pulled halfway out of her skirt, most of the buttons undone, and the knees of her stockings were ripped.

Oddly, she was hastily applying perfume as he walked to her. The bottle, from a famous designer, was several inches long with a bullet-shaped head. There was no pretense in the design; it was obviously phallic.

She was drunk enough that he half-carried her to his truck and had to help her in. She was too loaded to talk much. As soon as he turned the wheel and drove off, she fell to the side across the bench seat, twisting around so she faced the rear, her head not on his thigh but actually resting on the seat between his thighs, facing his groin. When he accelerated away from the first red light, her face actually pressed against his summer pants, giving him an instant erection. At the next red light, noting that there was not a single car in sight, he raised her skirt so that he could see the lovely skin above her ripped stockings. His cock grew harder. She did not respond. The third light was a lengthy wait. He placed his fingertips on her naked thigh and stroked the smooth flesh. His cock stayed hard all the way home, wondering if he should make her blow him.

At their house, he helped her stumble inside and took her to the den, where she'd be more comfortable than in the kitchen. She collapsed back on the sofa, her legs spread wide. He returned with some coffee. "Mother!" he said loudly. "I've got coffee and aspirin. Drink this." She shook her head, eyes closed. Carefully, he slapped her cheek very lightly. It was the first time he'd done so. Instantly her eyes opened half way. From lidded eyes, she looked at him with an expression he'd never seen before, as if daring to hit her again.

She took the aspirin and drank some coffee. He took the mug from her. "What happened tonight?"

"None of your goddamn business!" she snapped, filled with shame about the lurid scene they'd had at poolside yesterday, when he'd manipulated her into revealing her bare tits and then immersing them in the bowls of scalding sun block. She knew she was provoking him but couldn't stop herself.

Without thinking, he slapped her other cheek. Was she deliberately prodding him with her insolent tone? Once again she looked up at him with that strange expression. "Do not speak to me that way! Do you understand?" She nodded contritely. "I want to know what happened." She sat motionless. "I need to know if you got in trouble, or if you embarrassed yourself."

"Leave me alone!" she shouted angrily, remembering how she'd acquiesced when he'd instructed her to jerk off his big cock, aware that her intransigence would not go unheeded.

Matt saw that he could not accept this rude, obnoxious behavior. "You're going to tell me and you're going to speak to me respectfully." He grabbed her arm and pulled her up. Placing his hands under her arms, he dragged her to the rear of the sofa and pushed her face down over the back. "Don't move." She remembered how he'd humiliated her by brazenly shooting his big load all over her face.

Matt knew it was time to discipline her with her first beating. He went to the kitchen and found a large, fifteen-inch metal spatula with a wooden handle, used for the barbecue, lying on the counter. Back in the den, she'd rested her head and shoulders so far down on the sofa that her short skirt had ridden up her thighs, leaving the skin between stockings and panties exposed. He kicked her legs apart and pushed up her skirt until her panties were fully exposed. "Who was the guy?" Taking careful aim, he swung the spatula against her bottom. Instead of yelling or kicking as he'd expected, she moaned. He wasn't sure, but it sounded like "Mmmm." She said, "He was a lot younger than me." She started stroking and squeezing her breasts, reliving the sight of her dripping, constricted breasts after Matt had tied them with shoelaces.

"What does he look like?" She began fingering her slit, daydreaming about her swollen labia, exposed outside her bikini and glistening in the hot sun. When she remained silent due to her reverie, he struck her ass even harder, amazed that she did not kick, struggle, or move to protect herself with her hands.

"Handsome. Young. Curly hair. Tanned."

"What did he do to you?" He paused for her answer, but all she could think of was the pleasure of stuffing the dripping 7-inch cigar tube into herself. When she did not reply, he struck the bare flesh above the stockings.

She grunted from the blow. "We went outside."

Frustrated with the meager information she was parceling out to him, he grabbed her tiny panties and pulled them down so they hung halfway between her stocking tops and her ass. In the dim light of the den, he stared for a moment at her firm globes, reddened by the beating, and the dusky rose opening, beckoning from between them. He struck the bare skin of her cheeks, the metal spatula head making a crack, a sound much louder than it had made on the panties.

"Ooohhh!" She paused. "He was very rough for such a young guy. He ripped my blouse out of my skirt." He hit her inner thigh. Red spots had begun to appear on her ass and thighs.

"He touched my breasts." He drew his hand up and back in order to hit her harder. As he did so, she actually slid her pelvis back, widened her stance and pushed up with her legs, all of which changed her position and angle, revealing her rear opening and dangling labia, as if she wanted to make it easy for him to continue the beating.

"He told me to get on my knees." He struck her ass lower down, edging toward her cunt.

"He had me suck his cock." Now that she'd changed position, he had a clear view of her wet pussy and asshole. He landed a blow on the other inner thigh.

"He came in my mouth." As if he was in a trance, Matt moved from beside her so that he was standing directly behind her. He rotated the spatula 90 degrees so that it was vertical. He slapped the implement directly against her cunt. "Argghhh!" she yelled when the instrument struck her slit. Her hips ground in a circle against the sofa top, leaving a large wet patch on the black leather.

"I can't believe my own mother is such a slut that she goes down on a complete stranger. I bet you loved it, didn't you? I bet he squeezed your tits and pulled your nipples." As she was squeezing and pulling her clit, he swung harder against the glistening cunt lips, watching two trails of juice descending her inner thighs.

"No, no I didn't!" she protested. He increased the tempo of his blows.

"I don't believe you!" He struck her harder and faster.

"It's true!" she screamed. "I didn't love it." She was almost there.

"Why not?" he yelled. Her hips were grinding furiously.

"Because . . ." He realized the spatula was drenched with her pussy juices.

"What?" he screamed. With his free hand he held her ass cheeks apart, fully exposing the fat lips of her labia.

"He . . ." He struck her labia mercilessly every couple of seconds.

". . . wasn't . . . " He slowed down and struck with all his strength.

". . . you!" she screamed, her body shuddering in what he knew was an incredibly intense orgasm. He stopped beating her as she bucked hard against the sofa, her torso writhing. Eventually she was still, legs hanging slack. He leaned over to verify that she'd passed out.

He desperately wanted his first fuck with her but she wasn't even conscious. So he opened his zipper, pulled out his cock and rubbed it against her saturated cunt lips for lubrication. His prick was drenched with her juices after a couple of strokes. He moved it to her cheeks and rubbed it in the crack of her hot ass. After several strokes, he yanked his dick, pulled back and erupted in a geyser of semen, spraying shot after shot into her ass crack. It flowed down over her cunt lips and streamed off her body onto the black panties beneath, as if they were a safety net preventing his cum from staining the carpet. He sank down to the floor to recover, gazing up at her cum-soaked ass and pussy. He vowed to fuck her next time.

After a few minutes, he used his penknife to cut off the sagging panties, laden with cum, and laid them aside. Afraid she might choke while sleeping with her head hanging, he pushed her legs and pelvis over the sofa top so that she was lying horizontally on the seat cushions. Grabbing her armpits, he pulled so that her head and shoulders were propped up on the arm of the sofa.

He was leaving the den when he remembered she said the stranger had come in her mouth, yet he'd never asked her whether she'd spat or swallowed. He picked up the panties, heavy with the pool of jism, knelt next to Janice, propped open her mouth, and held the panties above her face, watching for a long minute as a cascade of white cum drained into her wide mouth. Eagerly, she swallowed this hot meal of her son's cum, much better, now that it was fresh, than her first taste from the panties he'd left on her bed, or the slimy gobs she'd cleaned from the photos. She closed her lips several times to swallow the load, at which point the cascading cum splashed onto her lips, eyes and cheeks.

He staggered off to bed, stunned not only by her deepening submissive behavior, but also by his punishing response. He already knew his mother was a cum-slut. But he hadn't known that he would enjoy beating her with an instrument, or that she would reach such an intense orgasm. She was a hard-core submissive, capable of withstanding and even climaxing from any sadistic bent of his. The enormity of the situation staggered him.

What a week it had been! Graduating, receiving gifts from his relatives, and discovering his beautiful mother would permit him – no, actually encourage him – to strip her, toy with her, bind her, finger-fuck her, shove dildos into her, slap her, beat her, and jack off on her, give him a hand job and eat his cum. This hot piece of ass wanted him to control her, abuse her, and force her to perform the most humiliating and degrading acts.

He'd do his very best not to disappoint her.

Coming next: Janice is discovered lying after her vacation.

Chapter Ten — A Hearty Breakfast

When Matt awoke early that morning, he noticed his mother's photos still lying on the floor. He scooped them up and noticed streaks on them. Instantly he understood that his depraved mother had swallowed his cum, just as she'd swallowed everything he'd poured into her receptive mouth last night.

Before leaving the house, he walked quietly into the den and stared at her. She was so gorgeous, so sensuous, that even the morning after a drunk, with her stockings torn and thick lips smeared with lipstick and cum, she looked not only beautiful but also extremely desirable. His cock jerked when he realized that she could be his, all his and only his, if he wanted her to. And he did.

To prove it, he leaned over and pulled her blouse out of her skirt. She did not move or make a sound. He undid the buttons and opened the blouse to expose her pretty bra, staring at the large, beautifully formed breasts revealed above the 1/2 cup bra. He couldn't resist. He pulled the cups down and tucked them underneath. He stared for a minute, transfixed by her dark aureoles and the even darker, thick nipples, protruding over a half inch—even while asleep. As she began to wake, he went outside to retrieve the morning paper and returned to his room.

It wasn't easy to focus on the news. He remembered her expectant expression after he'd slapped her last night, as if she'd wait patiently for more. He kept seeing her as she looked last night in the den, that luscious ass displayed flagrantly for him on the black leather sofa in the moonlight, and how much more lewd and inviting it looked once it turned red from the spatula blows.

But the memory of her arching her pelvis up to him while being struck was what gave him a renewed hard-on, which began as uncomfortable and progressed to almost painful when he kept remembering his cum pouring from her asshole and cunt onto the stretched bikini panties. Anticipating what could be the follow-up that morning, he went into the garage and picked up a ping pong paddle, the kind with a sandpaper-like surface.

When she groggily awoke, Janice remembered how embarrassed she'd been the previous night, asking Matt to pick her up at the club after she'd given head to that young guy. But she recalled little afterwards, except that Matthew had been forced to punish her bad behavior. How strange it was to wake up late morning in the den on the sofa, her mouth with the aftertaste of cum, humiliated by the sight of her bare breasts and the stiff, encrusted panties lying on the couch next to her face, feeling guilty for blowing that guy. If only he hadn't resembled Matthew.

Hearing her in the upstairs hallway, Matt ordered her to wear the final lingerie set. Still half asleep, she wore the lurid ensemble but wrapped a robe around it. Janice knocked at the open door of Matt's room. He was reading the paper. "Good morning, graduate. What happened last night? I can't remember."

Without looking up, Matt said, "Mother, position yourself as usual." At the foot of the bed, she saw two low wooden footstools spaced a three feet apart. She climbed up, stretching her legs wide open and raising her arms into position.

Matt looked up from the paper. "Mother, what are you waiting for? Why are you wearing that robe? You know the whole point is for me to see your outfit. And I can't remove the robe after I've fastened you."

"Matthew, a shelf bra means that there's support underneath but nothing. . . on top."

"So?"

"So my breasts would be exposed."

"Mother, we had this conversation yesterday, talking about women on the French Riviera beaches. Besides, I saw your tits already, didn't I? When you pulled off your bikini." Janice shrugged, defeated, and with agonizing slowness, loosened the belt, threw back her shoulders and closed her eyes in shame as the light robe slid off her shoulders and down her back.

Matt sucked in his breath. Somehow, seeing his mother at the foot of his bed, clad in an expensive, black French bra and matching wisp of a thong, was as much of a turn-on as seeing her exposed breasts by the pool. He bound her wrists to the bedposts, shoved the stools another few inches apart, and lay back on the bed.

"Mother, you look spectacular."

"D-don't you think I'm a horrible mother for exposing myself like this?"

Matt ignored the question. Casually, he asked, "Mother, have your nipples always been so long and thick?" She gasped at his brazen question. "Answer me."

"Y-yes, although they became slightly larger and longer when I suckled you."

"As you will in a moment." She spasmed in surprise at his declaration, loosing her footing on one of the stools. Matt got off the bed with the ping-pong paddle and came around to the foot of the bed, shoving the stool back under her dangling foot. He ran his hand over her taut ass cheeks and then slammed each one with the paddle. She leapt up in surprise, only to find that the added height provided by the stools might enable her to actually move the bed's wood finial into her slit.

Matt knelt on the bed in front of Janice and slowly licked the turgid nipples, slathering them with a thick coat of saliva. Janice shuddered and moaned. "What else did I do when nursing?" he asked.

"You squeezed and bit them." He used one hand to pinch both nipple stalks until she groaned, his other hand spanking her ass with the paddle. Her body spasmed and shook.

"Mother, since you're wearing a thong, and one that's a size too small, I can see your fat pussy lips almost as well as I can see your tits. Would you like me to pull your thong to the side, so you can sink your cunt onto the bed knob and fuck yourself?" Janice nodded. "Even though you'll be exposing your shaved pussy to your son?" She nodded again. "Say it."

"Please do it," she whispered desperately.

"Be specific."

"Please show my pussy lips so I can use the bed to fuck myself."

"That's better," he said. He pulled the thong aside and she rose up on her toes and pushed herself down a couple of inches onto the dildo, gasping. He began pulling her nipples as he continued to paddle her inflamed ass cheeks. "Gee, Mother, your pussy lips are as thick and long in their way as your clit, and your clit is way large like your nipples, and your mouth is extra wide and your lips really thick."

"Uh-huh," she said, humping the bed knob deeper as Matt added twisting to his nipple stretching.

"Why is that? What does that say about your body? What is it designed for? Perfect for?"

"Oh God," she groaned as he began spanking harder, the other hand temporarily leaving her nipples to abuse her clit.

She could barely speak. "My body. . . is good for. . . sex," she eked out.

"Not just 'good for sex.' Your tits and ass and cunt are made for servicing men, for sucking and fucking them. Am I right?"

She had to admit something she'd known since a teen. "Yes, Matthew."

"Since you're not a good mother and must be disciplined, what better way than to punish your tits and ass and cunt? Sucking your tits like a baby is not nearly enough pain for you. I think we should discipline that sexy mouth of yours by gagging it, and by forcing those fat lips to stretch open around my big cock, don't you?" She nodded several times. And your overlarge nipples should suffer for being so big and thick, right? Maybe that will reduce them to the size of a proper mother's tits."

"Yes-yes-yes," she chanted, delirious with lust, willing to masochistically agree to any punishment in order to plunge her mouth down his dick.

"And we'll teach those provocative pussy lips to not be so large by what? Whipping them? Clamping them? Piercing them?"

Hearing these humiliating and sadistic taunts, her tempo increased to a frenzy. When Matt was paddling her rear and also slapping her breasts, she started cumming. He had to keep his head clear as she shouted and writhed in the bonds, her head jerking violently and her torso twisting. Finished, she hung limply. Streams of pussy juice extended down her inner thighs and calves to her ankles. He left her hanging.