What Price My Mother?

"Then you rescued me, and I felt as though I was free and could live again, but now I had a different problem. How could I get my needs for sexual satisfaction met? You may not know this, but I've been masturbating quite heavily, although it's only a pale imitation of the real thing, and doesn't help much."

"The kid you just threw out, his name's Joey by the way, didn't tell you the whole truth, although I can't make that an excuse. He'd started flirting with me at the shopping centre, and I found it flattering. One thing led to another, and he told me he thought I was really hot, and he wanted to have sex with me."

"Are those the words he actually used, mum?" I enquired.

My mother blushed. "No, he actually said, 'I'd like to stuff my rock hard prick up your cunt and fuck you until you scream'. I know I should have slapped his face or called security or something, but I gave in to my urges, and he took me in the back seat of his car."

"How many times did he take you, mum?"

"Twice in the car, and this time he persuaded me to let him come here because I'd told him there would be no-one else home this morning. And you got back early."

"I see. So what does that make you, mum?"

Her breath caught in her throat. "I'm a whore. I know I'm a whore, but I can't seem to find any way out of it. I can't escape from the fact that I'm submissive and I don't really want to."

"Ever since I can remember, I've needed someone to control my personal life, but I've never been able to find someone I could trust. Someone who would have allowed me to feel safe and secure, so I could relax and let myself go and thoroughly enjoy the experience."

"My father was a cruel autocrat, my husband, your father was indifferent and became insensitive to my needs, and although things started well with Reg, they soon deteriorated into brutality. So I'm still trying to find someone who would be able to control my experience of being dominated, but in ways where I knew I would be safe."

"And you thought Joey would be that person?" I knew I sounded callous, but I didn't want there to be any misunderstanding.

"Oh god, no. I was just desperate for some physical relief. I would be anything he wanted me to be so long as I could get the high of a real orgasm. Then you arrived, and I was even denied that." There was a half smile on her face, as if testing my response.

"I think I can understand, but where will you go from here? What will you do now? If you want some psychological counselling or medical help, I can ..."

My mother cut me off quickly. "No, Brett, in spite of how it must look to you, I'm not sick. Put simply, I enjoy sex and I enjoy, no, I need to be dominated, and those two things need to be combined with safety and trust—and love. If I could find the right person, I would be whatever he wanted me to be and do whatever he told me to do. But it is so difficult and I just don't know what to do now."

Her tears started again and she looked defeated and forlorn.

I gazed at my mother, under her tears, a most attractive woman, and suddenly saw her as just that. Not as my mother, but as a highly attractive, desirable but very vulnerable woman. The answer came to me in an instant and I shivered in anticipation and at the danger of what my mind was proposing to me.

She looked at me with curiosity in her eyes. "Are you okay, Brett?"

"Mother, I understand you need a man in your life to love and trust. In return you have told me you would do absolutely anything for him?"

"Yes."

I took a deep breath. "Mother, on several occasions you've called me 'master'. Do you think we could make that happen? Could you accept me as your Dom?"

She gasped. "Brett, do you realise what you're saying? Do you know that would be incest? How could we ...?"

"Mother, let's cut through all the 'ifs', 'buts' and 'maybe's'. If that is what you really want and you believe we can make it work, take off your robe, come over here, sit in my lap and kiss me."

Her response was so fast I could hardly believe it, but in an instant, she was in my arms, her mouth seeking mine and kissing me as if her life depended on it, which, maybe it did.

The excitement in her eyes was undeniable, and she whimpered as I held her close, running my hands down her smooth body. "First things first, mother—go take a shower and clean that scumbag's cum from your vagina. Then you are to shave your pussy smooth and keep it that way always. And for the future, you might want to keep a supply of enemas handy; you never know when I might want to use your arse."

She shivered with anticipation and left for the bathroom without hesitation.

Perhaps I should describe my mother in a little more detail. Relatively tall, around 5'6" with a round, "soft" face and her blonde hair cut in a "pixie" style, together with blue/gray eyes and a full, "pouty" mouth. After her "regeneration", she had filled out a little, beautifully proportioned with full firm breasts with just a little sag, and tubular nipples that begged for attention. Her waist showed some thickness from age, now 40, and childbirth, but it flared to a mouth-watering bottom, firm but not too much so, pink/white and with a smooth roundness topping perfectly shaped legs and small feet. A truly delicious package.

My mother returned from her shower with enough makeup to accentuate her best features even further, wrapped in her dressing gown.

"Master, may I show you how grateful I am and how much I want to serve you?"

"That sounds like a very good idea, mother, Show me just how much you will be prepared to submit to me."

She knelt in front of me, unbuckling my belt and unzipping my jeans to pull out my already hard, excited cock. Her mouth worked sweetly around the head, licking it and endowing it with a liberal coating of saliva. She used her almost prehensile tongue on the soft, sensitive area just below the helmet and took the first inch or two into her mouth, sucking gently.

All this was accompanied my murmurs and whispers of enthusiasm and longing in a wholehearted eagerness to pleasure me. This was more than I had expected, and her dedication to my gratification meant I would be unlikely to be able to hold off for long.

"If you keep doing what you're doing, I shall cum very quickly, mother, and unless you're careful, I'll cum in your mouth."

She stopped for just long enough to moan, "Please, Brett, please cum in my mouth. I so want to taste you and feel you fill my mouth with your spunk."

I needed no more encouragement and my climax built quickly and urgently before, with a shout of release, I unloaded everything I had into her sucking, demanding mouth. My mother held me in her mouth until I wilted and shrank, then she licked me all over until I was completely clean.

"Thank you, master, thank you for the gift of your seed. I belong to you, and I will do whatever you say."

"Suzie," I said, using her name for the first time, "I need you to understand I have never been a Dom, although I've read enough sex fantasies to have an idea of how it works. But as well as that, I've fantasised about you for as long as I can remember, and I hated seeing how badly you were treated. I wanted to hold you, to caress you, to excite you, to make love with you and to hear you scream in release. I guess that makes me pretty perverted, but ..."

"Brett, my dear, sweet, wonderful Brett, you have always been the only person I really cared about. As soon as you were born, I devoted myself to you, being the only way I could deal with the neglect and brutality I was subjected to. Yes, I got off on the nasty stuff, and I still do because I had become conditioned to it. But I ached for real love as well, and I've never been able to find it. Until now," she finished with a laugh.

"Are you sure about this, mother? Seems like I'm getting the best of both worlds—a love affair full of hot, wet, steamy lovemaking and a sexy sub, willing to do anything for me."

"Oh yes, Sir, there are no limits so far as I am concerned. I can be both your lover and your slut and your pleasure will always be my pleasure."

It was only then that a special form of reality seeped through my sex addled brain. My mother would do literally anything I demanded; I had unlimited, unrestricted access to her body. But it wasn't the full story.

"Mother, you have offered your body to me without any strings, for me to dominate you any way I choose. But there's more to it than that, isn't there? Tell me exactly what you want from our relationship, deep down where there is nowhere for you to hide."

"Please understand, Brett, I belong to you in every sense and you may use me in any way you want—any way at all. That is what I most want, and in return, I will be at your service 24/7. I will also care for you as a mother should, cook for you, clean for you and keep house for you. Oh Brett, I need you, I want you—and I love you."

"I understand that, mother, and I love you too. But I want to know why this is so important to you, and what makes you so ready to debase, humiliate and degrade yourself with your son?"

"Brett, honey, this is so difficult for me, but I guess there are two threads coiled around me. First, I have this deep need to obey. From at least my late teens, I realised I was a natural submissive; I needed someone to control me in my personal life, but someone who I could trust. That part was supremely important to me, so I could feel safe and secure, be able to relax and let myself go and thoroughly enjoy the experience."

"So I needed someone who would be able to control and regulate my experience of being dominated, but in ways where I knew I would ultimately be safe. But I have never been able to find such a person. The trust, safety and security have all been missing. Now you have offered to be my master, my son who I trust absolutely and who I know will keep me safe."

"The second thread is a need to feel loved. Neither my father, your father nor Reg ever felt that way about me, and I poured all my love into you when you were young. Now you are offering to return it to me, even though we both know this is something society condemns. Brett, I have this desperate need to belong to you, body, heart and soul, and there are no limits to what I will do for you. Why are you so surprised then that, in your words, I should want to 'debase, humiliate and degrade' myself?"

"Mmm, well, mother, I do have some limits. Firstly, you must have a safe word so if anything I do becomes intolerable, you can use it and I will stop. That word is 'turnip'; do not forget it. Secondly, I don't do animals, I don't do shit, I don't do under-age sex, I don't do punishments that will cause lasting harm and I don't do piercing, although a little tattoo saying 'Property of Brett' might be fun. I do want to spank you and maybe bind you. I want to get a whole range of toys; vibrators, butt plugs and dildos, nipple clamps and other toys."

"I may humiliate, punish or discipline you according to my needs and my preferences. On the other hand, I shall require you to dress as I see fit, and we will get you a wardrobe of slutty, revealing outfits, lingerie and heels. I may require you to have sex with women, and I shall call you 'slut', 'whore', 'bitch' or any other term that takes my fancy. Oh, and please don't call me 'master'; I don't think I've earned such a title. Stick with 'Sir' in future. Is all that clear, mother?"

Her breathing had altered and was coming in short fast gasps, with her breasts heaving and flushing as if she was coming close to a climax. "Oh yes, Sir, yes, please treat me that way. It is what I've always dreamed of; call me slut, call me whore; it makes me feel naughty, it makes me feel nasty and it lets me know you own me, which I want so much."

My mother looked at me through adoring eyes, having discovered the secret to her own satisfaction, and a way of providing satisfaction to someone she cared deeply about. More than that, I saw a woman who had re-found herself and who had finally found love.

I wanted to test the strength of this devotion, and to see just how deep her desire for domination went. "Mother," I asked, "do you understand the difference between punishment and discipline?"

She shook her head, but looked at me attentively.

"Punishment happens when you have done something wrong, such as failing to obey an order. Discipline is simply to make certain you are obedient and attentive at all times. You will receive discipline regularly; in fact, I expect you to ask me for it, even beg for it. So expect regular discipline in addition to any punishment for misbehaviour."

The adoration in her eyes seemed to deepen. "Oh god, Sir, yes, yes, please discipline me. I need to know what I can expect from you and to feel how you will make me your toy, your plaything."

"Very well, mother, take the position over my lap with your delicious bouncy bottom ready to receive a spanking."

She gasped with pleasure and moved into a perfect position. I started by simply stroking the velvety skin of her butt; she wriggled, almost as if to say, 'please don't tease me, I need to feel you spank me hard.'

I started as I meant to continue. Hard slaps with my open hand slamming down from behind my head and bouncing off her resilient flesh. At first she just gasped, but after three on each cheek, she started to moan and later to scream as the pain, the heat and the redness grew.

I eventually stopped, and told her, "Assume the slut position in front of me." That, in itself must have been uncomfortable, sitting upright on her knees, with her butt resting on the back of her legs, her legs spread to reveal her drooling pussy.

Her eyes showed the evidence of tears, but they glowed with a satisfaction I hadn't really expected. In turn, it turned me on that my mother could get so hot from her son spanking her like that.

"Brett, it was so humiliating knowing my own son had me across his lap, my son, the boy I gave birth too, spanking my bare bottom, causing such emotions and forcing me to accept his domination. But I need it so much; I need you to know I AM your toy, your pet, and you can treat me any way you choose. I needed to demonstrate I am yours to command."

"That was the best spanking I have ever had. If this is how you will discipline me, I shall beg you for it day and night. The heat of your spanking spreads all through my body and it gets me so horny I can hardly think of anything other than your beautiful cock plundering my quivering cunt."

"I see. Tell me what you are, mother."

She groaned in her need and desperation. "I'm a slut who needs to be taken by her son. I'm a bitch who desperately wants to be used by the one man she lusts for. Please, master, use this degenerate whore for your own pleasure; knowing your pleasure will bring me all the happiness I need."

I looked down at her, her face shining with pleasure and her body quivering with excitement. For the first time I realised I had taken a huge responsibility, balanced by the potential for ongoing pleasure for both of us in many and varied ways. My mother didn't need to be turned into a submissive slut, she was one already. But she did need to understand my needs as her master.

"Stand, mother, and spread your legs." I demanded, admiring her beautifully proportioned breasts and the pink softness of her pussy. "Now turn round slowly so I can fully appreciate your luxurious bottom." She turned, taking her time, her bottom still glowing after her recent spanking.

She displayed herself with a wanton enthusiasm that had my erection growing apace. On completion of the turn, I instructed her to stand between my knees, and then instructed her, "Present your tits to me." She groaned deep in her throat and sliding her hands under her breasts, held them out towards my watering mouth. Moving my head forward, I took one now engorged nipple into my mouth and licked around it; her groans changed into a continuing hum of delight, transmuted into a sharp scream as I bit firmly into the nipple. Her hands came round behind my head in an attempt to force more of her tit flesh into my mouth. I resisted but transferred my attention to the other breast, giving it the same treatment, and was rewarded with another deep, dissolute scream.

"You will make your body available to me whenever I wish and be available to me any time of the day or night, with obvious limitations when I shall expect blowjobs. In the house, I expect you to wear light, filmy clothes with no bra or panties, and at least three inch heels—or sometimes without shoes at all; I've always thought you have lovely feet."

"Ooh yes, Sir, that will be wonderful," and she giggled. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather see me naked all the time? My body's not too bad for a forty year old woman, and that way I can be instantly available to you."

"Listen, you horny slut, a little covering adds some mystery and enchantment, firing my imagination about what's underneath."

I realised then I had underestimated just how depraved she really was. And I guess such depravity had flowed through to me. "Get on your hands and knees, mother, crawl to me and kiss my feet."

She did as I ordered, kissing my shoes with an eagerness I found slightly unexpected.

"Just so there is no confusion about how things are going to be, mother, I'm going to fuck you—hard. I'm going to show you who's in charge, and you WILL do what I say. First, though, I want to get you warmed up and humiliate yourself. Go into my bedroom, prop yourself against the bed board and masturbate to orgasm. Two conditions, though, mother; as you frig yourself you will keep your eyes on mine for the whole time. Secondly, you will not cum until I give you permission. I need you to be fully aware of how humiliating it will be for a mother to masturbate on the order of her son, and for him to control her orgasm according to his pleasure. Understood?"

She stared at me, speechlessly at first, but with a deep groan compounded from desire, submission and excitement. "Please," she whispered, "Please make me your slut. Please ... I will do whatever you say. Humiliate me, make me your sex slave— I want you so much." Her low, throaty voice almost became a growl. Without further words, she removed her gown to display her shapely, enticing body, went into my room and settled herself, her legs spread wide and her pussy already starting to leak its love juice.

Wetting her right index finger, my mother stroked along her soft pink slit, alternating her stroking by inserting first one, then two, fingers into her now soaking cunt, and she started to hum with excitement. She continued to stare into my eyes and as her orgasm grew, she drove her fingers deep into her cunt, alternating with stroking and pinching her clit. The pressure was rising and her hums changed to moans. Her body shook with tension, writhing and squirming as her sexual excitement increased.

My mother gasped and shook wordlessly, still looking deep into my eyes. She now shuddered with desire and a need to cum although her hand still moved over and into her pussy. "Please Sir, please let me cum, I can hardly stand this any more."

"No, slut, the decision is mine, not yours. You do what I want, not what you want, and I want to see you consumed by the lust-driven excess you have created in yourself."

"Oh Brett, god, don't keep me strung out like this, I need to cum so badly."

My mother became obsessed by bringing herself to climax. She continued to look into my eyes, but her gaze was glassy and seemingly unfocussed.

Her moans turned to a scream as the ecstasy built and her climax came ever nearer and I warned her, "You do not cum until I allow you to or you suffer unpleasant consequences."

My mother gasped and sobbed as her body shuddered—her tits quivered in a most entrancing way and her legs trembled and shook. She gave an animal howl, her hand still working hard on her soaking and inflamed pussy with her inhibited orgasm seeming to take control of her whole body. The shuddering increased and her head thrashed from side to side. "P...please, S...S ...Sir, p... please, I b ... beg y ... you, please release me. I wi ... will d ... do any ... anything you w ... want, just please, l ... let me go," she seemed to pray to me.