Whore for my Sons

Warning: Long intro here. If all you are looking for is a stroke story, you can skip this.

This story is based upon several emails I had with a particular individual. Most of these emails concerned the mother and daughter that he claimed he blackmailed in to becoming his sex slaves. They eventually escaped after he contracted COVID and became incapacitated. I still communicate with them occasionally to this day. This story is not about them, but they do make an appearance here. The names have been changed to protect them. Also, the country that this occurs in is the USA. That is for two reasons. First off, that is the country that I am most familiar writing about. Second, it is a different country that this took place in. Protecting the innocent and all that shit.

I should also mention that I have had several private discussions with the younger son of the woman. This also gave me inspiration for this story.

This story is based upon 'Real' events. Real as in anything that is discussed over email and private messages can be. The reality is that as far as I know, this all could be a hoax by a 14-year old boy with an overactive imagination. My reality is that I just don't care. I'm here for fun and intellectual stimulation. If you are a scammer that gets off on pretending to be something you aren't, have fun. I really don't care. I automatically assume that is what you are, but I still enjoy the banter. I have a 'woman' that I have been communicating with for a few years. I'm still not convinced that she is real. I don't care. I just have fun pretending that she is real. If it turns out that she is fake, I really don't care.

It's the same thing here. This story is based upon communications between me and the supposed Master. There are further communications between me and her younger son that added to this. I changed a few things about this in the remote possibility that what I was told might actually be factual. Reading this, you will most likely find that it is completely fake. I will not disagree with you on that, but keep in mind that fact is often stranger than fiction.

One more ting to add. There are very few names in this story. The names that are there are only because names are necessary. The names that are in this story have been changed to protect....... Well, innocent is probably the wrong word.

OK. Enough of that shit. If you are still reading, I should mention that this story does contain incest between a mother and her two sons. It also contains non-consensual sex, thus being submitted in the non-consensual category. There is forced prostitution, forced lesbian sex, BDSM, Gang bangs, and a host of other perversions. I should also tell you that all persons in this story are over the age of 18.

To the Asshole: Yes, I was playing you. Had you not gotten sick and had actually sent them to me, they would have spent two days here, then gotten on an airplane to the other side of the country. I already had it all set up. The mom would have had a good job waiting for her, and her daughter would have been in one of the best universities in the country. BTW, it's still set up, so if they do decide to come over, they will be much better off. Oh, I'm still talking to them.

Alright. Now for the boring shit.

1. This is a work of FICTION! It isn't real, unless you actually believe the bullshit above. Even if you believe that crap, which I will neither confirm or deny, I already stated that it is BASED upon certain events. That means that I added a lot of imagination to it. That makes it not real.
2. Everyone involved in any sexual situations is over the age of 18.
3. Anonymous is not a real person, and everything that they say is meant as a stupid joke. They are a computer generated joke profile that should be laughed at as if they were a three year old child that is just learning to speak.
4. I only occasionally read comments. I really don't care if you liked my story or not. I write these stories for my own entertainment. I do not write them for your entertainment. If you like them, that's awesome. If you don't, that's too bad.
5. I self-edit. That isn't going to change. You aren't the first person to suggest it. You aren't the first hundredth person to suggest it. It isn't gonna change deal with it.
6. I am not even close to being a professional writer. I have a completely different career. This is just a bit of fun and a way for me to blow off steam. With a few exceptions, most of us that post stories here are far from professional writers. Those that are trying to be professional writers usually make it known in their profiles. If that is what you are looking for, try Soul. There are several others on here, but he is the one that I am most familiar with.

"Oh God. Please, boys, don't do this. You're going to make me cum in front of your friends." I begged.

"Well, yeah. That's the plan, mom." Tommy replied. He is my 18-year-old son. Mike, his 20-year-old brother, was sitting on the left side of me.

"But then they're all going to want to fuck me."

"Mom, they already want to fuck you. Besides, they each gave us $50 for this." Mike stated.

Oh my God. They were turning me into a whore. The sudden rush of humiliation only brought a new rush of arousal to my already overheated cunt. It wasn't helping my cause that Mike was playing games with the remote for the vibrating anal plug stuffed up my ass. His other hand was busy toying with the ring through my left nipple. Tommy was toying with my right nipple and using his other hand to work the vibrator on my cunt. Sitting around the livingroom of our house were ten of their friends who were watching the show excitedly.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I groaned. "I'm your mother. You shouldn't be exposing me like this to your friends."

"I already told you. They each paid us to watch and then fuck you. Let's face it, mom; you were already a slut, so we just decided to cash in on that and turn you into our whore." Mike explained as he ramped up the vibrations assaulting my ass.

So, you are probably wondering why I wasn't putting up more of a fight. Simple, it's next to impossible to physically resist when your wrists are bound to your ankles, and your ankles are bound to the legs of the couch over the back. My feet were over my head, and my legs stretched wide open. I was folded almost in half with my cunt and asshole displayed for everyone to see. Oh, and in case you might have missed it, I was also completely naked. Though it really might not make much difference, everyone else in the house was completely dressed. That just added to my humiliation. Look up ENF and CMNF if you want to know what I'm talking about.

"OhGod, ohGod, ohGod. OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHFFFFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKK!" I screamed as the orgasm crashed through me. My body began bucking as much as it could, given my bonds. I was gasping for as much air as I could fill my lungs with as the waves of bliss washed through me. I vaguely heard the audience for my forced orgasm cheering and even something about being a squirter. After a couple minutes, I was simply a trembling wreck.

"Damn, mom. That was a good one. You even squirted for us. Oh, don't worry, we got a really good video of it, so you can watch it later." Tommy grinned.

OK, so perhaps you are wondering how I got my stupid ass in this position. I sometimes look back and wonder how the hell it happened too. The key word here is 'stupid'. Let's not forget a couple other key words as well. Those words would be 'horney', 'lonely', and 'submissive'. Oh, what the hell, let's throw in the word 'frustrated' too. Sexually frustrated, that is.

My name is Mary Adams. As you read above, I have two sons. Mike is 20-years old, and Tommy is 18, almost 19. I had difficulty with Tommy at his birth, so I had my tubes tied while they had me open during the C-section. I'm a 39-year-old redhead, 5'6" tall, 120-pounds, 38DD tits, a 29-inch waist, and 36-inch hips. I divorced a cheating asshole 10-years ago, and I have been 'celibate' since then. I used the quotes because, while I didn't date or have sex with anyone else, I do have a plethora of sex toys that I use - often. I take care of any stray urges by going to the gym and working out my frustrations. While it wasn't perfect, it worked for me - for a while. Why? You ask. Because of my boys. I didn't want to complicate their lives by bringing in another man. Lord knows they got enough strangers in their lives by watching the parade of whores coming into and out of their father's apartment. Leave it to that bastard to force me to be the responsible one.

It was just after Tommy turned 18 when everything went sideways. Now that both kids were adults, I decided that perhaps I could begin looking for someone to have a relationship with. Yeah, yeah, I said 'someone'. I heard it said once that heterosexuals cut their odds of a date in half by eliminating half the population. Yes, I went to college. Yes, I experimented. Yes, I liked it. Yes, I'm equal opportunity. Yes, I am just as adept at sucking cocks as I am at licking pussy, and I'm DAMN good at licking pussy. Well, at least I was 10-years ago.

It happened in the grocery store. I was in the produce section when I saw him. He was very handsome, about 6'2" tall, and probably close to 180-pounds - none of it was fat. He had a full head of coal black hair that was neatly cut. He looked to be in his mid-40s, but in excellent shape. I managed a sly glance at his left hand and saw no trace of gold. Did I mention that it had been 10-years since I had sex with another human? Sure, this wasn't the first time that I got moist looking at someone, but this was the first time that it happened after I had given myself permission to act on it.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I said right after my cart 'accidentally' bumped his. "I wasn't paying attention where I was going. I was just looking to see if the cucumbers were on sale." I flashed him with my biggest smile.

I noticed the quick glance at my left hand. "No harm done." He grinned, showing a mouthful of brilliant white even teeth. God, a tsunami just swept through my panties. "Although, you could have simply said hello without the pretense of bumping carts."

Shit. He saw through me. I'm sure that my face turned redder than my hair at that point. I saw something flash across his eyes as his smile got wider.

"I'm Adam. Since you went to all this trouble to meet me, be at the Starbucks across the parking lot in 20-minutes. Don't get anything perishable now. You can get those later." He ordered before moving on.

Ordered? I have to admit that it was actually and order. Another splurt of juice was added to my already soaked panties. Remember the words I said above? Remember one of them was 'submissive'? Any guesses as to why? Yes Virginia, there is a submissive in the house. I've always been on the submissive side. I was submissive to my husband when we were married. That's probably why he thought that he could have his whores on the side, and I wouldn't do anything about it. I was submissive to my roommate in college. I was submissive to my boyfriends and girlfriends before meeting my ex-husband. Anal? Want to see the vast selections of anal plugs in my toybox at home? Or the one I was currently wearing? Bondage? Loved it. Spanking? Yes please! Want to flog my tits? I actually have a rather high pain tolerance. You say you want to tie me over a table and cane my ass? See above, and you should probably put a towel under me, so my drooling cunt doesn't stain the table. Yes, I'm a bit of a pain slut too.

Luckily, I hadn't yet gotten anything perishable. Figuring that it would not be a really good idea to be late, I quickly moved to the check-out counter with what I already had. After stowing everything in the trunk of my car, I walked across the parking lot to the Starbucks. I was there 5-minutes early. I was unsurprised when he moseyed in a few minutes late. I could sense his commanding presence as soon as he walked through the door.

After ordering and receiving our lattes, we snagged a table towards the back. He began his inquisition of me. Yes, that is exactly what it was, and I answered all his questions. Over the next 20-minutes, he got all the details of my life. I told him all about the asshole, my boys, my career, everything. I didn't get into any real personal stuff, and never mentioned anything sexual. I actually think I did a pretty good job of covering up my submissiveness. Yeah right.

"Mary, I could tell after only seeing you for less than a minute that you are one of the most submissive and sexually frustrated women I have ever met. Here's the deal; I am a very dominant man. I have two women already that are my slaves. Honestly, they mean nothing to me. I simply dominate them for my gratification. I sense that you need me to take you and dominate you. This is your choice, but if you choose this, it will be the last choice you will make. If you submit to me, you submit completely. You will never disobey any of my commands. You will not engage in any other relationships unless I approve of it. You will not have sex with anyone else unless I order you to. You will be on call for me at all times. I will agree not to cause any issues with your career, but you will respond whenever I call. I will give you tasks to do that will most likely humiliate you, because I can see that you get aroused by that. I will punish you harshly for even the slightest infraction. I will turn you into the biggest submissive slut that you can imagine." Did I mention that my panties had gone beyond the saturation point?

"Make your choice now. This is a one-time offer. It will never be offered to you again. Stand up and either walk out the door or walk to the bathroom and remove your bra and panties and throw them in the trash. If you do not return to the table without your underwear within 5-minutes, this offer vanishes."

I was back in 4-minutes. My bra and soaked panties would be in the landfill the next day. While I was in the bathroom, he had pulled out his phone and set up an email for me. When I returned, he asked for my email and then hit send. I found out later that afternoon that it was a list of rules.

1. Throw out all panties that were not crotchless, thongs or G-strings. Only those were allowed, and only if they were needed to hold something in my cunt and/or ass or when ordered for looking sexy.
2. Throw out all bras except 1/4 cut, shelf, or ones that exposed my tits and nipples.
3. Throw out all pantyhose. Only thigh-highs and stockings with a garter belt were allowed.
4. Shoes. I could keep one set of trainers to work out in. Everything else was to be a minimum of 3-inch heels. I also needed a selection of 4-inch, 5-inch, and 6-inch heels.
5. Bathing suits. Two-piece only. Key word - skimpy. Thong bottom and covering the bare minimum. The only exception to the two-piece was that I was to purchase a couple of 'slingshot' micro bikinis.
6. Unless previously instructed, I was to strip completely naked as soon as I entered his house. I was not to put my clothes back on until just before opening his door and leaving.
7. Install spy cameras with audio in my livingroom, kitchen, home office, hallway, bedroom, and master bath. Also, I was to install security cameras with audio for my front and back yards.
8. I was only allowed to orgasm when he was not there with his permission. I was not allowed to call to him to ask for permission.
9. Pants, slacks, shorts, and skorts were all to be disposed of. I was only allowed to wear skirts, dresses, and skin-tight leggings.
10. Pubic hair. Thin landing strip at the most.

So, that's how it began. Unlike Alice, I didn't even realize that I was already halfway down the rabbit hole. The first two months were ecstatic. He would have me over to his house a couple times a week. He would bind me in different positions. He would bind me to different pieces of furniture and apparatuses. Nipple clamps, butt plugs, assorted vibrators and dildos, whips, floggers, canes, etc. were all used extensively. Several times, he even had one or both of his other girls over to play with. Oh, and let's not forget that he would fuck me to oblivion. As I mentioned, he was in fantastic shape and had lots of stamina. He also had an 8-inch cock and knew how to use it. Twice, he had a couple of his friends over to gang bang me as well.

By month two, I was wearing an anal plug about 80-percent of the time. I had even bought a new vibrating blue-tooth controlled one with an app on my phone to control it. Of course, Adam also had the app and was fond of using it. My phone was used as the local connection to it so he could turn it on and off as well as setting it from anywhere. There were a few times where one of my underlings was in my office for a meeting and wondered why I suddenly began squirming in my chair when it suddenly started up.

I was standing with my legs shoulder width apart and my hands clasped behind my back in front of him as he sat back on the couch. I was naked, of course. Well, except for the 6-inch heels and butt plug. He was admiring the latest orders he had given me. I was not so sure.

"Yes. I like it." He complimented. "Even though your cunt will be out of commission for a couple weeks, it looks spectacular. Besides, your ass and mouth still work fine."

"Sir, you do realize that they will be obvious under any shirt that I wear. I mean, I won't be able to hide them under a bra, since none of my bras cover up my nipples."

He just chuckled. "I expect that you may have a bit of embarrassing explanations to come up with, but I'm sure most people will be polite enough to not mention it."

We were discussing the new piercings that I had just gotten. I now sported 1-inch gold rings through each nipple. There was also a thin gold chain strung between my nipple rings that also had a gold ring in the center of the chain. I had a sapphire dangle on a navel piercing. Going lower, I had another 1-inch gold ring pierced into my clit hood. This one had a small ball attached to it that would bounce off my clit whenever I moved. I didn't realize it at the time, but this was the point where everything began falling apart.

I noticed the looks. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what it was about. It was Saturday morning, only a couple of days later. The boys were playing video games in the livingroom, and I was cleaning up the kitchen. I was wearing a fairly tight t-shirt and a light skirt that ended just above my knees. I was barefoot, since I was just hanging around the house. No bra, and no panties. I did have a jeweled butt plug in. The outfit really wasn't my idea. I had woken up to a text message detailing what I was to wear. Yes, the strange looks were from my sons, and they were focused on my tits. Gee, I wonder what that's all about. [Sarcasm, for those liberals without a sense of humor out there]. One other thing I should mention. My nipples were almost always hard and a lot more prominent after I got them pierced.

[DING] I just got a text message.

Sir: Go in and give your son's a drink. They look thirsty.

Obviously, Adam was watching the spy cameras.

[DING]

Sir: Make sure that you are standing in front of them when you deliver the drinks.

Me: Yes Sir.

"Hey guys. I thought you might like a couple of sodas." I said to the tops of their heads.

"Thanks, mom" They replied in unison to my tits.

As I was leaving, I caught a glimpse of them looking at each other in question. I returned to my task in the kitchen.

[DING]

Sir: They are discussing the strange shape of your nipples.

Me: Oh God!

Sir: Mike seems to know what it is.