Training Tom Ch. 03: Humility Pt. 02

Tom flinched as he recalled the length and girth of Dirk's monster cock.

"You too, hot stuff," she said with a giggle. "Buh-bye."

Tom heard her take a big swig of water, then he felt the bed sink down to his left. He waited in silence, breathing unevenly through his nose.

"Open your eyes," Sophie said slowly, as if gently waking him. Then she suddenly barked, "Present yourself!"

"Yah, Mih-ih," Tom grunted through his gag.

He scrambled off the bed and around in front of her. He bowed his head to the ground near her feet, placing his palms up at the sides of his head, as she had taught him.

"Good boy," Sophie praised. "Now stand up and look me in the eye."

Tom jumped to his feet and began to raise his head to look at her face when he abruptly stopped. In disbelief, he stared down between her lewdly spread legs. All the blood in his body suddenly rushed to his sex.

Before him was her nude, shaven pussy. Her lips were pink and swollen. An oversized clit poked out from a hooded sheath. Engorged and throbbing like a cock. As big as her nipples. Glistening with moisture. Succulent, like a ripe raspberry.

He felt like he would blow a load right there, or pass out on the spot. He had never actually gazed upon her sacred spot, nor ventured to imagine the size and suckability of her clitoris. Her sex was the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever beheld. And he yearned for it.

"Ahem. I said in the eye," Sophie said with exaggerated annoyance.

Tom's eyes shot immediately to her face to see the finish of a mischievous smile. An immense sense of disappointment washed over him, as if the Holy Grail itself had been within his grasp, only to have it suddenly vanish.

To his confusion, she raised a hand to his face, then stuck her thumb and forefinger in his mouth. He felt a small tug, and wet cloth slid out of his lips. She continued to pull and more unraveled until almost two feet of ripped fabric had come out. Their gaze remained locked as the last bit left his lips. She balled it up and tossed it across the room.

"Tell me what's on your mind, little one."

Tom visibly flinched as she spoke, surprised by her direction, uncertain what she expected. He wanted to say something about her exposed vulva, how unbelievably gorgeous it was. Yet that didn't feel right. Then he remembered the bite, and that, despite the punishment, he had not properly apologized.

"Miss, I'm so sorry I bit your nipple," he said with heartfelt remorse. "I don't know what came over me. Please forgive me for hurting you."

To his confusion, Sophie scoffed.

"You'll have to bite me way harder than that to actually hurt me. In fact, I pinched your little prick just so you would bite me. Your daughter's story was totally turning me on, and I needed a little something...to fan the flames."

Tom thought about the sequence of events, the bite, the spanking, the face sitting. They were all just to turn Sophie on, to stoke the inferno of her insatiable sex drive.

"You know, I may have underestimated you, little one," she said, confusing Tom again. "I quite enjoyed riding your face. I may just have to train you to pleasure me sooner than I planned."

Tom's face flushed. It felt like the room temperature rose 10 degrees in an instant. He almost jumped for joy at the prospect, only just catching himself in time. He was forced to take a step forward to steady himself.

"Whoa, killer," Sophie laughed. "We don't have time this morning...way too many other things to do. And besides, training you will take considerable effort. You have so much to unlearn before you learn. The combination to my vault doesn't come easily."

Tom felt dejection weigh on him and a visible pout developed on his lips. In his periphery he saw her legs close most of the way, and his frown grew deeper.

"Aww, but I do really appreciate you being such a good little dildo for me," Sophie consoled degradingly. "Tell you what. You can have a special reward. I'll give you two choices."

Tom's stomach suddenly dropped. Sophie's choices were always so difficult; excruciating predicaments that tied his emotions in knots.

She flashed a wicked smile, then broke their gaze and looked down, luring his eyes to follow. One hand moved between her legs and the other to her unconsumed breast. Her fingers danced sensually in concert and her head suddenly tipped back to look at the ceiling. She sucked in a rapid breath then exhaled with a fluttering moan.

Tom watched intoxicated as the sexually charged vixen teased herself into a lather. His cock strained in its skin, pumping in the air, concentrating his blood flow until the rest of his body felt drained and weak.

Sophie's head snapped abruptly forward, and her eyes gathered him in.

"Choice 1..." she stated in a business-like manner, inconsistent with her raw carnality on display.

The hand in her crotch moved forward, held like a cup, trailing viscous strings of her secretions. The backs of her fingers slid across the top of his throbbing member, and she spoke with a disparaging jeer:

"To be sure, I won't put that pathetic little string bean in my mouth..."

He felt the sharp sting of her insult, and the disappointment of her stated boundary. But his dismay was quickly forgotten as her fingers suddenly rubbed her hot goo into his cock, twisting and squeezing, rolling and pulling. Loud sploshing sounds emanated from below, adding to the splendid filthiness of her debauchery.

His knees almost gave out and he whimpered aloud, his balls burning with the urge to release. He tipped his head down to watch her pampering and was surprised to see her voluminous juices oozing out of her fist between her fingers. Her hand pulled off and turned over, rubbing the slimy backs of her fingers on the underside of his unit, deftly recycling her lubricant. The precision of her motions reminded him of a performance engine, tuned to rev his sexuality into overdrive.

She continued in a suggestive voice:

"...but I can lick that dirty little pussy-pop clean...until she can't take it any more...until she squirts a sticky mess all over my pristine face."

Tom nearly fainted at her lascivious offer and powerfully humiliating words. Hearing his penis described as female was the coup de grâce, the ultimate dissection of his withering manhood. He felt weak and helpless before her.

A single finger touched his scrotum, then wove a wet trail up the bottom of his cock. His knees almost gave out.

"Would she even last one lick?"

Her finger slid off the tip with a flick, and he groaned piteously, imploring her not to stop.

"Or choice 2..."

The hand on her breast shot up and two fingers penetrated his lips. He immediately tasted the candy of her bosom, and sucked her in greedily, shocked by the sudden magnitude of his appetite.

"...you finish your breakfast."

Her fingers pulled out with a splurch, and her legs opened wide. Her hands grabbed his hips and pulled him forward between her thighs.

Her head bobbed down and she feigned a lick of his cock, still holding him steadily in her gaze.

"I'll let you avenge your jealousy...and live out your daughter's shame," she teased treacherously, causing Tom to flinch, "But then I'll pump and dump, and God knows when my unpasteurized goodness will next cross your lips."

Tom wanted nothing more than to feel her tongue on his cock. Full blowjob or not, he longed to experience the wonders of her mouth. His head filled with the image of his semen spurting onto her cheeks and lips. Then his thoughts shifted to his envy of Lauren; her superior strength, her cocky attitude, the impudent way she had forced him to clean up her friends' mess. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to shoot a load onto her arrogant face...

But he needed Sophie's precious calories. He recalled the anemia of his starvation, and the rapid restoration of his health after finally feasting on her breast. How fast might he regress without her sustenance? She had him at her mercy. And she knew it.

Her lips curled into a roguish sneer, relishing in his dilemma.

He stared at her flawless cheeks and soft pink mouth. His cock twitched at the thought of decorating them with his reproductive paint. It felt like a once in a lifetime opportunity. Her tongue flicked out and trailed a seductive path over her upper lip. His cock twitched again.

But then a pit appeared in his stomach, challenging his arousal. At first he thought it was hunger, but it morphed into something different. Disgust.

Disgust at defiling the perfection of her face. Disgust at a crude act of male dominance.

She had made the offer, but why would she let him disrespect her like that? He sensed she was challenging him to show that he was still a typical selfish man, motivated solely by his own pleasure. Yet he knew his pleasure was tightly interwoven with hers. And they could take no pleasure in that act.

With deliberate resolve, he turned and sat down on her right leg. Seeing that she didn't move, he leaned back and lifted his feet one at a time, spanning the wide chasm to her opposite leg. Then he slid his back down one thigh while his calves slipped forward across the other. Taking his feeding position in her lap. He turned and looked up at her, on the verge of tears, and opened his mouth to speak his choice.

"Oh, sweetie! Come to mama..." she said in the most adoring voice he had ever heard her use.

Her arms swept him into a cradle and her hand pressed his mouth to her breast. He latched on and sucked frantically, overcome by joy. The pure joy of her love. He couldn't have felt more certain of it.

He began to weep uncontrollably as he drank in her potent spirits. He felt cared for and special, like he had an unyielding pillar on which to lean for support. He could feel it in the tender pressure of her arms and the subtle lean of her body. An emotion drawn from base instincts, embedded in the genome of the human race:

The unconditional love of a mother for her child.

Unexpectedly, a wave of sadness hit him. The curious reversal of feelings made no sense. Then an asterisk appeared in the eye of his brain, flashing in the distance, growing larger and brighter until it looked like a gaudy marquee above his fragile ego. The distinction was suddenly obvious:

She wasn't in love with him.

That regaled status was far from being earned. The love she felt for him was obliged by nature, dictated by the evolution of their relationship. He sobbed even harder.

"I know, I know, little one," Sophie soothed.

Tom's body shook. He wanted her to understand. But could she truly sense the conflict of his passions, the dichotomy of his elation and sorrow?

As if reading his mind, she continued speaking:

"I really do feel it, my sweet boy. You're my special little baby and you mean the world to me. I know it's not everything you want. But it's still a wonderful step forward."

She cuddled him tighter, and he felt her sweet love flowing into his mouth, sinking deep into his core, warming him, sending heat to his extremities.

"I won't use the words out loud because we can't have your little mind getting confused. But know it's there, embedded in my heart, solidified in our deep connection."

Her fingers traced his navel, and he felt the veracity of their bond, the oneness of their beings. He was suddenly in her head, looking out through her eyes at the little boy curled up in her lap. He could feel the suction on her nipple, and the flow of her milk through her glands. He sensed the lightness of the infant in her arms; the immense power of her vigorous body; the incalculable capacity of her wondrous brain. He could hear her thoughts as if they were his own:

I will always love you, little one.

His body shuddered as he internalized the unbreakable vow of her love, the promise that no matter what, she would always be there to support him, to help him face the world. He could feel a well of faith spring within him, the way he once felt during hymns at church. For Her.

His hands raised to her breast and squeezed, expressing more of Her into his mouth, feeding his insatiable hunger for the woman who had changed his life. Who would always be changing his life through her discipline and motivation. Imparting her wisdom through her training. Remaking him as her son, in the image of his perfect mother.

Sophie let out a loud sigh, sounding of pity and regret. Then she spoke dramatically:

"You must think I'm so cruel."

His eyes shot open at the irony of her statement. It was the last thing he expected her to say. He loved her, and she loved him. How could that be cruelty?

As he started to shake his head in vehement disagreement, she continued to speak:

"You must hate me for teasing and tormenting you the way I do. Your vulnerable little emotions must be worn so thin."

He recalled the agony of her choice moments before. The lurid manipulation of his thoughts while his daughter relayed her story. The callous friction of her pussy on his face.

Yet he could never hate her.

"Your undeveloped brain only wants for the simplest of things...yet I selfishly persist in complexity, challenging you with taboo, manipulating your senses, dominating your body, breaking you down...turning your mind to mush. All for my own enjoyment."

Tom thought of her many games. He had indeed been reduced to a mindless cat following a string. He remembered the many moments he was almost brought to orgasm, only to have it interrupted or suppressed by her. He considered his helplessness to resist her commands and seductions. He thought of her vicious blows and stinging insults.

Yet he took deviant pleasure in all of it.

Then she spoke in a whisper, as if revealing a great secret or confessing a terrible sin.

"In spite of that, deep down, I really am a kind person."

Tom felt puzzled. Why would she be saying this? What was she hinting at?

Just then, Sophie leaned forward and stood up, cradling him in the air, his mouth still attached at her bosom. Her body turned and she propped his legs on an upraised knee. He could hear the bedspread pulling back, then the sheets.

They dipped slightly and she crawled forward on her knees, the mattress springs causing him to bounce with each stride. She gently set him on his side and laid his head on her firm bicep, still suckling to her breast. Then her long body settled in beside him, and a cool bedsheet fluttered down with a puff of air and a softening of the light.

He recalled the last time they had been under a sheet together: her frantic spins and rolls, crushing and squeezing him; his hot sweaty hair; his disoriented mind; the surrealness of his rebirth. He thought of something she said that night:

You'll take a trip through Hell before ascending to Heaven.

And he knew he was there now, in the Eden of her embrace. Her arm draped over his shoulder, pulling him into her, wrapping herself around him. A deep sense of security pervaded his mind. He felt protected in the cocoon of her powerful body. Safe to relax and soak in their closeness. Free to luxuriate in the scent of her skin and the taste of her soothing broth. In her kindness. Heaven.

His mind floated on a cloud of unearthly bliss, one with his mother, his mistress, his muse. Connected as if by fate. Bonded by love eternal. Time stood still.

Sophie's voice awoke him from his stupor:

"I want you to know that I am truly grateful for the joy you bring me, even when I don't show it. Even when I treat you so awfully."

Her knee stroked gently on his thigh, then her leg lowered until her big toe slid down his ankle. His skin prickled and all his senses became suddenly acute. Her milk seemed to run sweeter.

"You've already been through so much. And I want to make it up to you. To show you I care. To show you what's possible."

He heard a squishing sound between their bodies, and he quivered as the potent scent of her arousal crossed his nose.

"I want you to know with certainty that I am your everything. That I can fulfill every need of your little body, now and forever."

Slimy fingers suddenly engulfed his rigid cock, rubbing in her juices, slipping and sliding, tugging him forward...to the verge of the crease between her luscious thighs.

"Now where were we before calculus homework so rudely interrupted..."

Her hand grabbed his hip and pulled him in, breaking the seal, helping his little worm wriggle into the moist burrow between her legs. A bolt of lightning shot through his body, and his nose sucked in a sharp breath. He almost came right then.

Her legs pulled back, then shoved forward just as her arm pulled him in again, sliding his cock quickly between her slippery thighs. He let his body go limp, submitting entirely to her lead. Eager for her to take him. Dying for her to finally finish him between her spectacular legs.

Her body snaked forward and back in a slow wavelike motion, his penis slithering in and out with each undulation. He could sense the flow of her mammary ebbing and he sucked harder, pulling more of her breast into his mouth until her nipple poked at the back of his throat. She quivered in reaction. Knowing he couldn't hurt her, he bit down on her flesh with all his strength. And her pelvis slammed forward, sucking him in.

Her hips bucked quickly back and forth, fucking him with her thighs, taking him for a wild ride. His teeth clamped desperately onto her tit, the only part of her body he could hold onto as she spasmed and rocked against him. With each channeled thrust, jets of air puffed out loudly from his nose, like a steam engine barreling down a track.

He imagined she was actually fucking him, taking his organ inside her, taking him inside her. He could feel himself shrinking into her, joining with her, becoming her...

"Make your little mess for me, baby."

At her command, his seed began to release in feeble little squirts. Her jabs became short and tender, swaddling his phallus snugly in the warm pod of her thighs. He could feel his semen weakly dribbling out, doubling back on itself, surrounding his shaft. A loud squish sounded with each tiny push. He whimpered and sobbed in little bursts, and tears streamed from his eyes.

He felt her hand move between their bodies, then stroke rapidly between her legs. Both their bodies went rigid at once and he felt like he was falling from a great height. Sinking deeper and deeper into submission. Into her everything.

"Now show me how a big boy does it."

His cock seemed to suddenly grow, bursting at its seams, longer and fatter, bigger and stronger, pressing her legs apart. His semen erupted with the pressure of a firehose, spraying out from her thighs and across the bed. Over and over. Thick and voluminous.

They grunted together with each powerful pulse, experiencing their orgasm as one. He could feel the strength of her climax coursing through him, sending him her energy, fortifying him, transforming his cock. Making him a real man.

He was at once rapturously euphoric and intensely shocked. He reveled in the immense pleasure of her body, and the ecstasy of sharing her bliss. But he was dumbfounded by her seeming capacity to morph his physiology with a simple command. He honestly couldn't tell whether it actually happened, or if it was all in his head. Either way, he sensed he had once again underestimated her greatness. Unable to foresee her otherworldly capacity to remake him. Redefining everything.

Mother and son sighed together as they slowly slid down from the top of the world.

"I'm so proud of you, little one," Sophie extolled.

He welled with emotion, basking in her approval as if he had just won a Nobel Prize.