tagIncest/TabooRetraining Mom

Retraining Mom


"Mr Clark, I am glad you came by today," said the crisp voice of a slender man dressed in a bespoke grey suit and matching grey vest. He smiled when I stopped in front of him and extended a hand.

I nodded and shook the head trainer's firm grip. That's right. His name was Samuel. How could I forget? I was a nervous wreck, but I concealed it behind a poker face that I had mastered over the years and just hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Is she ready, Samuel?"

"Yes, she is." He gestured me to follow. "Please follow me."

We left the spacious lobby, passed the attractive receptionist, and continued into a well lit hallway with expensive looking paintings hanging from the walls.

"In here, Mr Clark." Samuel stopped in front of a door and held it open for me. I nodded my thanks and entered the room.

It was an office. I had expected it to be as grand as the rest of the building, but everything about it was plain and, funnily enough, looked like Samuel himself: from the simple grey chairs, to the grey desk, and a grey lamp. Even the walls were painted a dull grey. A bookshelf sat in the corner of the room, and I noticed with curiosity that it was lined with books about human psychology and brain biology.

"Please. Sit."

I lowered myself into the chair in front of the desk and Samuel sat down opposite me. He smiled. "May I offer you a drink? Coffee? Tea? We even have hot cocoa."

Hot cocoa sounded amazing, but I didn't want to hassle him so I shook my head instead.

"No thanks."

"Alright." He cleared his throat and slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Your mother is doing well. Perfect, in fact. Her training has been a success. We have wiped out her memory and implemented false ones in its place, and she has completed her training."

"She is very desperate to get sold." he continued, the smile still plastered on his face. "We have not left a mark on her, on the outside at least, but she may be a bit... traumatised from her training. I am sure you understand why this was necessary?"

I nodded. Their procedure was always the same.

Their clients (me in this case) paid a hefty sum of in exchange for anyone of their choosing (provided they are not high profile and no one will notice their sudden disappearance for two months) to be made into a sex slave. Clients were all rich and powerful individuals, mostly old lonely men who were desperate for love and sex, or young men using daddy's money who couldn't seem to keep their hormones in check.

My best friend, Dean, was the latter. He had introduced me to the organisation and had vouched for me. Apparently he was a favorite of the organisation but even still, they had me sign a non disclosure agreement.

Samuel never mentioned it, but it was clear that I was an odd one. An average looking twenty-two year old man who lived a mediocre life and never had anything more than a mediocre car. Such a man could never afford owning a slave.

Fortunately for me, Dean had sponsored me to send my Mom over for her 'retraining' as he liked to call it.

I will never forget the day we had the conversation that changed my life forever.


Two months ago.

"You do realise that your mom is like, super hot right?" Dean said as she passed us.

He had mentioned this before, several times in fact, but the tone of his voice told me that he wasn't going into those long winded conversations of the several positions he would fuck my mom in.


"Do you want to fuck her?"

I spat my drink at that and went into a coughing fit, which made Dean burst into laughter.

"Is everything okay out there?" My mom poked her head in from the kitchen.

"Yeah, Mrs Clark." Dean was still laughing. "Everything's fine."

"So you want to fuck her too, right?" asked my best friend after my mom was out of sight again. "Come on, it's obvious the way your gaze follows her whenever she passes by swaying that juicy ass of hers."

"Are you okay, Dean? Are you sure you took your medicines this morning?"

I was joking but he was right; I want to fuck my mom. Sandra was the perfect example of exquisite Asian beauty: long black hair that fell in short waves to her breasts, legs strong and perfectly toned since childhood by ballet, and later on, from frequent visits to the gym, wide hips below a slender waist that created the elegant curves most women could only dream of, and natural, teardrop-shaped breasts that just yearn to be fondled.

At the age of only thirty-seven, Sandra still turned the heads of every man and even the occasional woman. She had been the central character in my fantasies ever since I discovered masturbation. My friends always told me how lucky I was to have a hot mom, but it was the complete opposite; it was like torture seeing the woman of your dreams everyday, yet not being able to do anything beyond pleasuring yourself to thoughts of her.

Dean went quiet for a while. He would open his mouth, paused, closed it, then lapsed into silence again.

He finally spoke, "I have something to share with you, Andrew." He paused, then leaned in closer to whisper, which was unnecessary since no one could hear us anyways. "But promise me you won't freak out or tell anyone."

I didn't know how to react to that so I just nodded.

"No, you need to promise me."

So I did. He then told me everything. The secret organisation that he and his dad were frequent clients of. The harem of girls that lived back at his mansion. And how he spent most of his days just fucking them.

"That's why I seldom invite you over to my place," he admitted. "It creates a huge fuss; I have to hide all my girls and have them clean up the place." He frowned. "My section of the house always reeks of sex, no matter how many times I have my girls clean it."

He then told me that his dad actually found out about the organisation via a coworker, only to pay a ludicrous sum of money to enslave a woman who soon became his wife - Dean's mother.

"She's in my harem too," my best friend said, and he couldn't help but grin. "Dad got tired of her after a while and gifted her to me for my eighteenth birthday. "She's currently the oldest of my slaves, but she is crazy good in bed; all of my most, uh, memorable moments came from her."

I didn't believe what he said, but he had expected that reaction. I mean, who would? So he brought me to his mansion and showed me his harem. Fifteen beautiful women lined up in front of us, all completely bare and positioned in the same stance: kneeling on the ground, hands clasped at their backs and gazes cast down.

"Your sister is not part of it?" I asked, a little surprised.

Dean smiled. He knew that I had -and still have- a huge crush on his older sister. All three of us were classmates since middle school, and it was love at first sight for 12 year old me. I never had the confidence to ask her out though, and shorty after she became a cheerleader, she was taken by one of the jocks.

"Soon. Dad was stubborn at first, saying she doesn't deserve this. Wanted a bright future for her. But after many arguments, he finally relented on the condition that I will never hurt her and that I have to take up learning the family business." His smile faded and his brow furrowed. "Whatever. It will be worth it. Wanting to be a lawyer, my ass. She belongs in my bedroom. You know her well enough; way hotter than my mom over there."

I glanced at his mom in the middle and my boner seemed to get even harder. Radiant red hair that had been curled and trimmed to shoulder length, a toned body to rival my mom's, but the jaring difference was in breast size: they were HUGE and jiggled whenever she made even the slightest movement.

Dean's mother didn't seem to take notice, or care about, the insult her son had just given her. She just stayed in position, with her gaze kept down.

Dean must have noticed me ogling his mother because he whistled to her, like one would whistle to a dog, "Mom, here. Now."

His mother -Cindy, I think that was her name- immediately obeyed, her boobs swinging wildly from side to side as she strode to him in an exaggerated, sexy manner. She immediately dropped to her knees when she reached her son and started undoing his jeans.

"No." Dean slapped his mother, not hard enough to cause real pain (at least it didn't look like it), but the sound of his hand hitting her flesh echoed throughout the room and I could see the other girls flinching. He lifted her chin with a finger and she was trying her best not to meet his eyes. "Did I give you permission to do that?"

"No, Master," she said, then in a softer, more timid tone, "Please forgive me, Master."

It seemed to work. Dave smiled and pecked her on the lips, which made her -very noticeably- shiver in delight. He then turned to me and offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Andrew, I like to be a bit... uh... rough with my ladies."

Now that he mentioned it, I could make out faint marks on most of the girls. Red marks around the breasts, cheeks, stomach and most noticeably - the ass.

I didn't know how to respond to that so I just pointed at his mom instead, who was now sucking on his index finger, treating it as if it were a cock.

"You still call her Mom? Why not just Cindy?"

"I really don't know why. I just get crazy turned on by it." Dean began stroking her head and she reacted by purring in delight.

"You're my bitch, aren't you, Mom?"

She nodded, still bobbing her head on his finger.

"Say it."

Cindy stopped sucking and looked at him, "I am your bitch, Master."

She continued with her sucking and licking and Dean pointed to her, "You can make your own mother just like her. Your very own bitch."

"How much will it cost?"

"Five hundred thousand dollars."


"You don't need to pay for it," he said. "I will pay for you. All I ask in return is to fuck her, whenever I want, uhh.. whenever you are not fucking her, that is. Let's say once a week. Sound fair?"

"Think about it, Andrew," he pressed when I didn't answer him. "You will have your mom as your own personal bitch. Forever. And you don't need to risk anything, or spend a dime. All I ask is to borrow her some of the time."

I considered it. "What would happen to her? I mean," I pointed to the girls, then at his mom, "what would they do to my mom? Would it hurt?"

"I am not a hundred percent sure; they don't tell us their methods. All I know is they wipe out their memories and then train them to be slaves. It's quick, effective, and most importantly, it works." He turned his attention back to his mom slave, drew out his wet finger and kissed her on the lips. She responded by shoving her tongue inside his mouth and crushing her enormous chest against his chest.

They made out for only a few seconds before Dean pulled back and his mom whimpered. "So, Andrew. What's it gonna be? I mean, you can't say no. Look at this, look at her. You will never go to bed with a sad cock ever again."

I told him that I would think about it. I really didn't know what to think. My brain was still processing all this new bizzare information.

"Alright, but trust me, you wouldn't want to say no to this. I was hesitant and scared at first when Dad introduced me to all of this, but man..." Dean bent down again to lick his mother's erect nipples, savouring the first one, and then the other, "... it's so fucking worth it."

He drove me home after that, and I was silent during the car ride. I wanted to take the deal, but it would mean destroying my mother's life. Brainwashing her against her will. No one would wish for that.

We pulled up in front of my house and Dean sneaked a peek through the windows, probably hoping to catch a glimpse of my mom. "Oh, and Dave," he said as I got out of his Rolls Royce, "if you ever feel horny, you can come over anytime and use some of my girls." He paused. "Except Rose and Elly. Those two are my current favorite and are off limits. I don't even lend them to Dad."

I said bye to him and headed straight toward my room to think. I didn't see mom, which was odd because she was usually sprawled on the living room couch every evening watching Netflix.

But in the end it didn't take me long to make up my mind. As I lay in my bed considering Dean's offer, there was a knock on my door.

"Come in."

It was my mom, of course, since there was only me and her living in our two bedroom bungalow. But what surprised me was the dress she was wearing.

It was a sexy black lace dress that displayed more of her body than it covered. Her arms and most of her legs were completely bare showing off her smooth olive skin. Her breasts, which were always disappointingly fully covered, were now only loosely obscured by two thin straps that interjoined with her back and making a beautiful 'V' shape between her breasts. The dress ended way above her knees and outlined her ass nicely.

I gaped at her. She had never dressed this sexy before.

"How do I look?" Mom asked, and twirled around for me. I could of swore that I glimpsed see-through black lingerie underneath. She was no doubt looking for some action tonight, and strangely, it made me angry.

"Uhh... great," I coughed, trying to catch sight of the lingerie again as she twirled. "Yeah, great. You look great."

I pulled the blanket higher over my body so she wouldn't notice my raging boner.

"You think so? I think it's a bit too sexy, but for tonight, I feel like it's justified."

"Uh huh." I grabbed my phone. "Hey Mom, mind if I snap a photo of you?"

"Sure." She smiled and did one of those cheesy poses. She probably thought it was for Instagram, but the moment she left my room, I would be jacking off to it.

"Kevin is bringing me on a fancy date tonight," my mom said excitedly . "L'Etoile d'Or. The three Michelin star Italian place."

"L'Etoile d'Or? Wow Mom, I am really jealous."

Yeah I was jealous. I was jealous of Kevin.

"Anyways, dinner is in the fridge and there's a new expensive bottle of wine Kevin bought for me hidden somewhere in the cabinet." Mom gave me a wave as she walked out the door, "Just leave some for me if you decide to drink it."

I wasn't paying attention to her words. All I could think of was her. I looked at the photo I had just taken of her, then at the door she'd just left from, then at the photo again. All doubt in my mind disappeared as I stared at her curves, her jaw dropping features.

I punched in the familiar number on my phone.

"Dean?" I said as I pushed myself out of my bed and grabbed a bottle of lotion and some tissues, "Yeah, when can you make it happen?"


Two months later

"Mr Clark?"

I jolted up and stared blankly at the grey man.

Samuel's smile never faltered. "As I was saying, your mother, Sandra Clark, is ready for you. Have you thought of a slave name yet?"

I nodded. It was not compulsory to rename your slave, but everyone does it.

"Mind telling me her new name? Apologies but it needs to go on our record."

"Yeah, it's... Kate."

"A beautiful name, Mr Clark." The head trainer headed for the door with purposeful strides and held it open for me again.

My legs were sore by the time we reached the holding cells. Dozens and dozens of brightly lit rooms, and instead of walls at the front and back, there were one way mirrors instead. All the doors had a sign that displayed the occupant's identifying number in large bold letters.

I spotted a cute brunette in her young twenties in one of the rooms we passed. She was sitting on the edge of the king sized bed and looked miserable. The room, although not large, was as well furnished as the rest of the building.

Finally Samuel stopped at a door at the end of the hallway and nodded to the guard who was standing at attention. The guard nodded back. The door read SLAVE #1101 and I gulped, my nerves suddenly increasing tenfold. I didn't even bother peeking inside.

"Do not be afraid, Mr Clark," Samuel said in that crisp voice of his, but it still didn't bring me any comfort. "In her current state, she is very docile and submissive." He pointed a thumb at the guard. "There are multiple cameras in there and if we see any signs of her suddenly becoming unstable and attacking you, security will immediately arrive on the scene."

He brought out the smile onto his face again. I hated that smile. It was the one professionals always used. A bright smile to the unaware, but just an empty replica of the genuine thing.

"So far, no incident like that has ever happened, but it's just a precaution. Our number one priority is our client's safety."

"And judging by the profile you have provided us," he continued, "you have no interest in slapping, choking, rape play or any kind of hard core sex, am I right?" He paused and my face turned bright red. "So if you decide to perform sexual intercourse with your slave, any signs of violence to you will be considered a threat to your safety. Do you understand, Mr Clark?"

"Wait, you guys will still be watching even if I decide to..."

"That is correct, Mr Clark." His smile didn't waver. "Don't worry, we are professionals and all footage will be secured then deleted after forty eight hours, unless of course you request them be supplied to you. You must understand that this is for your own safety. Your slave will remain here until we are satisfied that she has fully accepted you as her Master and is in a completely stable condition."

I could only nod dumbly.

"Alright, Mr Clark. You may enter." There was a buzz and the door swung open.

I let out a deep exhale and walked in.

"And Mr Clark," Samuel said and I paused at the doorway to look back at him. "Congratulations. I don't usually say this, but she is a very attractive woman. One of the most attractive I have had the pleasure of training." His damn smile took on the faintest note of something genuine and he gave me a little bow.

"Please enjoy yourself."


Mom -perhaps I should call her Kate now- was huddled in a corner with her knees to her chest and, much to my delight, completely nude.

I stood there and admired her for a while. I had seen my mom naked before - multiple times in fact. I had figured out her phone's passcode after seeing her unlock it a couple dozen times, and had sneaked a look at it when she was dozing off on the living room's couch.

She had A LOT of nudes in there. A treasure cove of premium fapping material. Probably for her boyfriend Kevin's viewing pleasure. I had then copied all the photos -and there were even a couple of videos too- to my computer and if there was a world record for the number of times masturbating in a single week, I would definitely be one of the top contenders.

I noticed with satisfaction that Samuel had taken my comments seriously. Her hair, long and smooth, was now styled in a sexy french braid that ended right above the curve of her back. I always wondered how she would look with one and, oh boy, it was fucking hot.

She looked up at me with fear in her eyes when I drew closer and I braced myself for anything.

Her voice had changed. Her once silky smooth voice was nowhere to be heard and she spoke in a high pitched and childlike manner.

"Please don't punish me. I haven't done anything wrong."

I immediately felt a pang of guilt. What have I done? She looked terrified, and my first instinct was to embrace her.

"No, please don't, please don't," Kate pleaded and backed herself up to the wall.

Right. She doesn't recognise me anymore.

What have they done to her. What have I done?

"Mo-, Kate." I tried to speak in a gentle tone. "I am not here to hurt you."

Her eyes widened, and for a moment she actually looked hopeful.

"If not to hurt me, then what are you here for?"

I remembered the story that I had to play along. She now believed she was a slave for sale.

Report Story

byGiantNutWrites© 5 comments/ 34986 views/ 47 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

3 Pages:123

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: