Whoropticon: BigBoy and Pregina

This installment was commissioned by Griselda (not their real name). Please remember this is all just fantasy. As such, it is supposed to be a safe way to explore the shadow side of who we are.

Kim hurried down the hallway of her modest suburban home to her son Michael's bedroom, worried by the sound of him groaning loudly. She knocked on the door, but he did not answer. Instead, she could hear what sounded like a woman crying out, her shout muffled by the cheap wood. The forty-something single mother pushed the door open slowly.

When Michael had left home for university, he had taken down all his high school posters and brought all his books with him to the dorm, leaving the walls and bookshelf barren. He hadn't, however, brought his old desktop with him, as the university had provided him one. Kim found him seated before it. She noticed his right arm shaking in a repetitive up and down motion.

"Yes! Yes! I'm just a pair of tits!" a woman's voice shouted ecstatically, and then began to make a sound as though she were being choked.

Kim moved to Michael's side and her gaze was immediately drawn to the computer screen. There was a webcam sex show playing on it. A man was ramming his penis in between the enormous breasts of a woman. Worse, his hands were wound tightly around her neck. Kim felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She looked at her son. He was transfixed by the scene before him, furiously masturbating.

"Michael!" she exclaimed, her voice quivering with anger and shock.

Her son didn't respond, it was almost as though he hadn't heard her.

Kim angrily grabbed the chair and and was swivel it toward her when he suddenly spoke.

"It's okay, Mom," he said with an odd flatness, almost as though it weren't really Michael speaking, but someone or something else speaking through him.

Kim was startled. Michael continued to pump himself. She noticed that his left hand was between his legs, massaging his scrotum.

"There's a message for you," he said, as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

"What?" she asked, confused.

Michael motioned with his head toward the computer screen. "There's a message for you." He pumped faster.

She looked at the screen, at the chatbot under the video, and there was indeed a message for her, from the username Whoropticon.

"It's terrible isn't it? Your son's watching this smut right in front of you and doesn't care. And the woman in the show, she's a real floozie, not unlike the one your husband left you for."

Kim's eyes narrowed quizzically. What the hell was this? Who was writing this?

Whoropticon continued. "Maybe one day your son will also leave you for a floozie."

Kim felt her cheeks burn with anger at the memory of her husband's betrayal, yet at the same time, her heart pounded with terror at the thought of being abandoned by the only other man in her life.

"Your son used to be a good boy before your husband left."

She found herself nodding. Yes! Yes, it was true, Michael had changed. He was becoming more like his father, interested in floozies.

"Do you want him to be a good boy again?"

She nodded again, not fully realizing how strange it was that the website seemed to be able to sense her response.

"Our store has a supplement precisely for this situation! It's called 'Cana Refecunda'. Take it, and by summer's end, you'll be making him a good boy again!"

Without thinking, Kim pulled her phone out from her pocket and searched for "Whoropticon". Within moments, she had found the website and was browsing through their selection of special supplements. As she scrolled through the list of items, a peculiar calmness began to wash over her. It was as if someone or something else was guiding her hands. She ignored her son as he cried out, his jism spurting upward from his lap as his body shook violently, and she added the supplement to her cart and proceeded to checkout. She completed the purchase and then calmly walked out of Michael's room, leaving him slumped in his chair.

The next day, a package arrived at her doorstep. Opening it, she stared at the pill container, feeling a mixture of curiosity and unease. Michael's groans wafted down the hallway. Hearing him, Kim resolved to do whatever it took to make her son a good boy again. She opened the container and swallowed what would be the first of many pills to come.

* * *

Days passed, then weeks. Kim obediently took her supplements and went about her business. She ignored the groans and shouts coming from Michael's room, which had become routine. She also ignored the mysterious debt building up one her credit card for something called, "MilkMan and Lactatia".

Soon she noticed her breasts becoming rounder and larger, pushing against her shirts in a way they never had before. Her hips, which had permanently widened after she has given birth to Michael, seemed to also be expanding.

Alarmed, Kim went online to the Whoropticon website to learn more about the supplement that, much to her surprise, she had been taking without properly researching. As she searched for it in the online store, a customer service chatbox appeared in the lower right corner.

"How can I help you?" it asked.

She immediately closed it and began to scroll down the list of supplements. The chatbox suddenly reopened, this time as a popup in the middle of the screen, blocking her view.

"I can answer your questions about Cana Refecunda."

Flustered, Kim moved her mouse to close the popup but discovered there was no "x" button.

"You're worried about its effects," the chatbox said.

She froze. How did it know?

There was a peculiar tugging sensation in the back of her head, faint but insistent. Kim began type.

"My breasts and hips are getting bigger."

"Of course they are!" it replied. "They need to get bigger if you want to make your son a good boy again."

Her brow furrowed. "How on earth is that so?" she angrily typed.

"They need to get bigger if you want to make your son a good boy again," it repeated.

The tugging sensation grew stronger. Kim shook her head and typed, "I don't understand."

"They need to get bigger if you want to make your son a good boy again," it said once more.

Now the feeling in the back of her head seemed to be throbbing, filling her skull right up to the back of her eyeballs. Kim leaned back and nodded slowly. Yes, it made sense. Her breasts and hips needed to grow larger if she wanted to make Michael a good boy again.

The mother stood up and went to her mirror. She cupped her breasts in her hands, then ran her fingers over her hips. The sensation in her skull began to relent. Yes, yes, it made perfect sense, she thought. Her tits and hips needed to grow larger if she wanted her son to be a good boy again. They needed to be larger, much larger.

* * *

The end of the summer was approaching, and with it, the start of the semester. Kim knocked on Michael's door, intending to ask him when he planned to return to university. He did not answer, although she could hear him breathing heavily, as well as the grunts of the man and woman in the webcam show.

"Big titted bitch," she could just make out the man saying. "Give me more."

"Fuck these tits," the woman answered back. "Big tits for your big balls."

Kim opened the door. The lights were off and her son was silhouetted by the light of the computer screen. She could make out his hand moving rapidly in his lap as he furiously jerked off. There was a bad smell in the air, like he hadn't washed in a while. She walked to her son's side and looked at him. He seemed a bit emaciated -- when had he last eaten? she wondered, realizing she hadn't seen him outside his room in a while. And his eyes were sunken and blank, fixated on the screen.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, gently trying to rouse him. "Michael?" she asked softly. There was no response. He continued to stare, unblinking, at the screen. Yet, as in response to her touch, his hand moved faster, and a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead.

She looked at the screen. The man slapped the woman across the face, muttering at her, "You're gonna take it all."

"Yes I am!" the woman shouted back.

Kim squinted and focused on the man's penis. It was large, maybe nine inches. She had never seen a penis that huge before.

Something seemingly flickered, just below her vision, and she looked down at the chatbox. There was a message from the username Whoropticon: "Your son's got a nice cock, doesn't he?"

The words sent a chill down her spine. She was about to get angry when she felt the tugging again, pulling from deep in the back of her skull. She glanced at her son's crotch, at his rigid member. Although his busy hand obscured it somewhat, Kim felt it was indeed a nice cock.

Another flicker, another message from Whoropticon: "You're a good mother, aren't you?"

"Yes I am," she responded, her voice indignant yet flat.

"Then help your son. Help him cum."

Kim slowly turned back to her son. He was wheezing. She was wearing a button-down shirt, and as with a mind of their own, her fingers slowly undid the buttons, exposing her swollen tits. She moved in front of Michael -- he whimpered plaintively as she momentarily blocked his view of the webcam show -- then knelt down before him, pushed his legs apart, and moved close to his crotch.

She grabbed her son's wrist, halting his pumping, then pulled his hand away. It flopped uselessly onto the arm of his chair. His left hand began to make its way to his rigid cock but she swatted it away. Then she spit onto the tip of his cock and without a second thought, wrapped her inflated tits around it and began to rub them up and down.

Some distant part of Kim was horrified at what she was doing, but the rest of her marveled at how hard he was. And as she squeezed her tits and pulled him deeper into her cleavage, the sounds of MilkMan and Lactatia's rough fucking continued to fill the bedroom.

"I want it," Lactatia breathed. "I want it!"

Kim could feel the veins of her son's cock throbbing against her skin. He moaned softly and arched his back, but his wide eyes remain fixated on the screen.

"That's it," she encouraged, rubbing harder and moving faster. "Let it out."

She paused to reach between his legs and stroke his balls. They were heavy in her palm, and she gently rolled them between her fingers.

"Oh fuck," her son gasped.

Michael thrust his hips upward. His mother quickly squeezed her tits around him again and resumed rubbing his hard rod.

"Yeah bitch!" MilkMan began to shout. "Just like that!"

Suddenly her son was spurting hot cum up through the cavernous valley of her titflesh. As though it were the perfectly natural thing to do, Kim bent her head down and opened her mouth to catch some of his spunk.

Kim stood up and looked at her son. His head was tilted back, his eyes gazing into oblivion, his mouth wide open. The tugging from the back of her skull resumed and an idea came to her.

Kim leaned forward toward his face, her large nipples raking across his dirty t-shirt, and she gently kissed her son. Like a mother bird feeding her chick, she slipped Michael's own cum into his mouth. He instinctively swallowed.

* * *

More weeks passed, and Kim's tits grew from their original B cup to a heavy E. And not only that, but they felt heavy, as though they were filling up with liquid.

She continued to take the supplement, feeling a strange sense of compulsion driving her to do so. Eventually, she noticed wet marks in her shirt around her nipples, and not long after that, milk began to leak out from her fattened tits. The milk was peculiar, colored a very light teal, but she did not think anything of it. She felt calm with the knowledge that whatever changes the supplement made to her body were the right changes.

Hearing Michael's shouts of mindless orgasm had long since become a regular part of her day. So, too, did shoving a dildo into her pussy every night. And as her fingers slid the silicone rod in and out of her cunt, she would imagine that it was her son's hard dick until she would shout her own mindless orgasm and pass out.

Then one night, no matter how much or how hard she rammed the dildo into her twat, she couldn't cum. As she laid on her bed frustrated, she felt the tugging again and a new idea occured to her. Without thinking, she climbed out of bed and crept down the hallway to Michael's room.

The door was slightly ajar, and she peeked in. As usual, he was staring at the screen. She could hear MilkMan abusing Lactatia for the thousandth time, slapping her hard and mercilessly. Kim paused for a moment, her heart racing, before pushing the door open further and stepping inside.

She stood behind his chair and waited, arms at her side and her gaze fixed in the direction of her son. The glow of the screen illuminated the heavy orbs that had grown on her chest. Milk, like liquid alexandrite, dripped from her nipples.

A message appeared in the chatbox, from username Whoropticon. Michael's eyes drifted downward and read it: "Time to be a good boy."

He shook his head and briefly snapped out of the trance that he had fallen into over the whole summer. Suddenly, he felt a feminine presence behind him, and he turned his chair around to look. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw his mother standing there, utterly naked.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then his eyes noticed her milk. Michael reached out and cupped one of her breasts in his hand. Kim gasped, feeling a surge of pleasure coursing through her body. He leaned forward in his chair, brought his lips to one of her nipples, and possessed by a long forgotten instinct, he began to suckle. His mother sighed and leaned forward slightly, feeling her strange milk begin to surge out through her nipple and into his mouth. She looked at Lactatia, that fucking floozie, and smiled triumphantly. She was finally making her son a good boy again.

Eventually, Kim gently pulled her son's face away from her breast and looked into his eyes. They were glassy and unfocused, whatever lucidity he had briefly regained had been washed away by her milk. She placed a finger under his chin and he obediently rose out of the chair.

"The bed," she instructed.

Her son slowly shuffled to his bed, his sweatpants and underwear still aound his ankles. Before she followed him, she reached out and turned off the computer. The room was suddenly bathed in the dim light of the moon.

Michael sat on the bed, and as she approached, he licked his lips and murmured, "More, Mommy, more..."

Kim purred and straddled his hips. She slipped a hand behind his head, guiding his laps back to her nipple. He latched on and once more began to suck, hard and desperately. She bit her lip and winced.

With her other hand, she carefully angled his cock at her twat and then lowered herself down onto him. Michael sighed deeply, as though relieved of some immense burden, but he did not stop drinking her milk. Kim began to move her hips, slowly undulating in a rhythm that matched the beat of his sucking. It was not long before his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips as his own hips started thrusting upward into her.

"Yes, that's it," she moaned. "You're my good boy."

Her words triggered something in him, and his thrusts grew more incessant, harder. She arched her back, her one breast pressing against his face as he continued to suckle, her other breast resting on his shoulder and dribbling more of the teal milk down his shoulder.

Their movements gradually became more frenzied, and Kim's cries of pleasure echoed off the walls of the room. The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of her, the feel of her skin against his, and the seemingly infinite flow of her milk from her engorged breasts into his hungry mouth soon proved too much for Michael. With one final hard thrust, he cried out. The sound was muffled by his lips refusing to break their seal around her nourishing nipple, and his body trembled as he mindlessly released his seed deep inside his mother.

* * *

As summer turned into autumn, their relationship changed. Like MilkMan in the webcam shows, Michael began to take charge and dominate his mother, routinely plowing her as he feasted on her tits. For her part, Kim would coo and caress him, helping him to the orgasm that he so desperately needed, again and again, many times a day.

That time of month inevitably came then went, but no period. Then October passed, and again, no period. Kim realized what this meant. Terrified, for some reason she felt compelled to go to the Whoropticon website once more, to ask the customer service chatbox for its advice.

"I'm pregnant from my son," she typed, her words full of fear and confusion. "I don't know what to do."

"Do?" whoever or whatever was on the other side replied. "You will have the baby, of course. You and Michael can raise your child together, as secret husband and wife."

Kim was horrified. "Didn't you understand?" she frantically typed. "Michael is my son."

"Then why have you been letting him fuck you?"

"I don't know why."

"I'll tell you why," it replied.

Without her knowing it, Kim's hand slowly slid under her underwear, as though under someone else's control.

"You've been lonely ever since your husband left you, so very lonely. You need a man," it explained. "Your son is a man."

Her fingers began to rub her clitoris.

"You need a man," it repeated. "He is a man."

Kim's body trembled as the words resonated within her. She couldn't deny the truth in them. She did need a man. And Michael was a man. He was strong and powerful, and he made her feel safe and loved, especially when his hands were wrapped around her throat.

"I need a man," she whispered. "He is a man."

Her fingers moved faster, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The thought of giving birth to Michael's child filled her with a strange mixture of terror and anticipation.

"You need a man," it droned on. "He is a man."

"I need a man!" she shouted. "He is a man!"

Her orgasm crashed over her, waves of pleasure washing through her body. As she came, she arched her back and cried out -- and then fell unconscious.

When she awoke, she saw a new message in the chatbox: "You've made your son a good boy again, but do you want him to be a big boy, too?"

Kim slowly nodded. Her mouth hung open and drool trickled down her chin.

"Then it's simple," it explained. "Double your supplement dosage, and keep feeding him your milk."

* * *

Golden leaves gave way to ice and snow, and then ice and snow melted and flowers prepared to bloom, and slowly Kim's belly and hips grew. So, too, did Michael's cock, from five inches to a raging ten, and his scrotum doubled in size.

When her tits had grown to gigantic L cups, Kim quit her job and Michael dropped out of university. She no longer needed a job and he no longer needed an education, for the customer service chatbox had given them a new idea to make a living: filming live webcam shows in Whoropticon's members only area.

Like MilkMan and Lactatia, BigBoy and Pregina swiftly became a hit, with thousands of viewers tuned in for hours at a time. Their audience was composed of couples: the men would fuck their women doggy style, rutting helplessly until they emptied themselves into the wombs of their girlfriends, wives, or yes, their own mothers. And the women in turn, with minds just as blank as those of their boyfriends, husbands, or sons, emptied their men's bank accounts into the vortex of Whoropticon.

BigBoy would lead by example, violently taking his mother from behind as the cycloptic gaze of the webcam looked on. As he rammed his hard rod in and out of Pregina's cunt, he would grunt at her through his milk-stained lips, "You're such a slut, Mommy." One of his hands would grip her neck tightly, while the other would slide over her swollen belly. "My baby-making slut..."