submissive son

That night, as he lay in bed, Jim wondered about the events earlier that evening. There was no doubt that his mother had been intoxicated, and no doubt that she’d been a little bit flirty. But was there any more to it? He hadn’t ever been one of those guys you read about in stories, masturbating to thoughts of his mother and stealing her panties. It’s not that he found such ideas repugnant; they simply had not occurred to him, and by the time he’d heard whispers of such things he was already busy with girls. Try as he might to chase these ideas out of his head, he couldn’t help drifting off to sleep to mental images of her, by the pool, wearing a lot less.

Susan didn’t doze right off to sleep either. Jim had gone home earlier than she’d have liked. She didn’t let that ruin a good buzz though. She had another beer or two and stayed in the pool for a while. She even stripped off her suit for a little skinny-dipping. Why not? It was her house and the pool was very private. Later, in bed, she thought about the evening and how odd it had been. As a practicing psychiatrist she knew a bit about rationalizing. People paid her to listen to them rationalize all day. She’d be damned if she was going to start rationalizing her own behavior. No doubt she’d been turned on by her son. Sure, beer had played its part in relaxing her inhibitions, but she wouldn’t pretend it was the cause. Jim was a good looking young man and she’d been thinking recently about a younger man. The “cougar” phenomenon seemed to be taking hold and she had considered giving it a try. Maybe it was more about that than about Jim. Perhaps he had just wandered into her sights as she was considering options.

Most likely that was all there was to it. She decided to pay closer attention to her reactions to Jim the next time they were together, whenever that turned out to be. He may not show up again for a month, or two. Today it only happened because she called him for a favor. “Time to think about all that tomorrow,” she said to herself. “Tonight I have a wet pussy and an eager clit and I’m going to enjoy it.”


Another morning of listening to people’s problems. It really wasn’t that she was unfeeling or unsympathetic. It was that the problems, and the solutions, were so fucking obvious! Love, or the unthinking pursuit of it was pushing people to do things that simply made no sense. And although it paid well, it got tiresome watching people run laps around the same track, again and again, all the while wondering why they weren’t getting anywhere. Sure, she did get that occasional patient who was really there for help and change. Thank God. Those patients were, to a psychiatrist, like the occasional perfect shot is to the average golfer. Without them, he’d probably give up and find another hobby. But hitting one or two per game was just enough to make him come back and try again.

Between patients, her receptionist stepped in to say that her son had called and asked her to give him a call back when she got a minute. She raised an eyebrow. That was new.

“Jim, you called?”

“Yes mom. I was wondering if it would be ok to go over to your place to study today. There’s some construction going on across from my apartment and the noise is making it impossible for me to concentrate here. I can do the library if you want…” his voice trailed off.

“No, of course not. My house will be much more comfortable, and the library doesn’t have a fridge you can raid. You still have your key?”

“Yes. Still got it.”

“Ok. Enjoy. Oh, and if you’re still there when I get home, we’ll order up some food.”

“Thanks mom.”

She hung up the phone with a smile. Her pussy was wet again. “Interesting,” she said aloud.

Jim let himself into the house and looked around. It hadn’t changed much since dad left. He took a few personal mementos he’d collected over the years, but the bulk of the furnishings and decorations were hers. She had contributed most of the income and she’d made all of the decisions about the house. When he left, there wasn’t much that was really his to take.

Fortunately Jim’s studying was all caught up. He was ready for exams and would require only a few hours of brush-up on each one before being tested. He headed down the hall to his mother’s room to look around a bit. Time to learn a bit about mom.

The lingerie drawer seemed like a good place to start. Her collection surprised him. It was sexier and more extensive than he would have guessed. She was no stranger to g-strings, that’s for sure. She had every possible cut and color of them in her top right drawer. Jim let his mind run a little and realized if she wore these, she would also shave. “Nice,” he thought. In his mind, he noted that most of them had tags that said “M.”

One drawer to the right was a similarly comprehensive collection of bras. He noted their size, 36D. “Wow. Mom’s stacked,” he thought. As much as he wanted to continue exploring, he had some shopping to do, so he went back out, locking the door behind him.


The remainder of Susan’s day was grinding ever so slowly. The patients were coming in, relating their latest tales of woe, incompetence, and sheer stupidity, and filing out. At least they all brought their credit cards. She’d run through several scenarios in her mind about how this evening could play out. She had little doubt that Jim would still be there when she arrived. His completely out-of-character phone call earlier and his flimsy excuse about construction noise were enough of a tip-off that he’d felt something odd last night too. But, was he coming back just to see if he had been correct or was he coming back to see how far he could take it?

She really needed to get this whole crazy idea out of her head. Jim was her son. Frank’s son. A sexual relationship, even a one-time experiment, simply could not happen. She didn’t go to church anymore, but that had not changed her moral compass much. She understood human frailty and failings in a way that most people do not, but she still knew sin when she saw it. And what about her career? What would committing incest with her son say about her as a psychiatrist? How would she be able to look her peers in the face or hear her patient’s stories and maintain some sort of distance and authority. You fuck your own son, even once, and you’ve lost your standing, your credibility, forever. Even if nobody else ever found out or figured it out, she would know – and she couldn’t live with that. She was fifty-eight years old and that was way too late to start over or become someone else.

She missed Frank. There was no sense lying to herself about that. He wasn’t a great husband, wasn’t a great provider, wasn’t great in bed. Good grief, she was starting to sound like her patients! Frank did one thing well though. He obeyed. She liked that in a man. If she looked at her empty coffee cup, he ran to fill it. If she mentioned the dishes on the counter, he got up to wash them. If she pushed his head down between her legs, he licked until she was satisfied. It wasn’t a full Femdom or BDSM relationship with whips and bondage, but it could have been. If she had moved in that direction, he would not have fought her. He had been eager to please, and she did miss that.

In the end, what probably drove him away as much as her success, was her lack of feedback. For a male with submissive desires, it’s not enough to serve. The service must be acknowledged as such in order for him to feel fulfilled. He needs it expressed, clearly, that his submission is noticed and accepted, preferably expected. He needs his role and the role of the one he serves to be understood clearly within the relationship. She knew this well enough. Many men, some of her patients in fact, tried to use stealth submission to lure a dominant nature out of their unsuspecting wives. Sometimes it worked beautifully. Most of the time it didn’t, leaving the man frustrated and unfulfilled and ultimately resentful. So why had she let him down by not openly taking control and allowing him to revel in his submission? She knew the answer to that too, and it didn’t make her like herself any better. The reason was that she had always known that if she’d been looking for a slave husband, she could have had a much better one. It was ugly, cruel, and self-centered, but it was the truth. A weak slave is no great acquisition, nothing to be particularly proud of. A weakling would serve someone or something, no matter what. The slave that would appeal to her would be one who could be a leader himself, but chose to follow her instead. Frank was never that man.

Jim’s shopping trip had been much faster and easier than he’d expected. Returning home with his prize, he decided to spend the rest of the afternoon getting to know his mother a little better. He couldn’t help feeling that she must have other secrets besides the extensive collection of sexy underwear and he meant to find them out if he could.

He went through the remaining drawers of her dresser and didn’t find much. Then he went to the bathroom. He was deliberately saving the matching bedside tables for last because he was sure that’s where the best information would be found. In the bathroom, he noticed she had a fondness for the usual bath salts and creams that most women used. The loofa looked new, so that probably meant she’d worn out a previous one. The robe on the back of the door was shimmering black silk, cut short, with only a tie at the waist to keep it closed. He’d never seen her in anything that revealing, but his thickening cock confirmed that he would very much like to. There was a dirty laundry hamper, certainly containing some of the dirty underwear that are the stuff of online porn stories, but he wasn’t quite ready to sniff, or lick, or masturbate into, soiled panties.

The bookcase held no big surprises. The psychiatry texts were to be expected. There were a few on deviant sexuality, which might be an exciting topic in some contexts, but not in a clinical “let’s find you a cure” context. “So, on to the bedside tables,” he said aloud. He knew, from having lived there as a boy, that his mother’s side of the bed was on the right and his father’s had been on the left. Starting with her side, he opened the drawer on top and found ibuprofen, a sleep mask, a small flashlight, and a few other odds and ends. “Hmm. How disappointing.” The cabinet beneath wasn’t much better.

On his side it was a different story. Mom was neat, orderly, and private. He should have known that all the good stuff would be in one place. The top drawer held a nice collection of dildos and vibrators. Glass, silicone, jelly, large, medium, small. All were well represented. He smiled at the fact that he didn’t see any that looked particularly intimidating. Jim was the proud owner of seven thick inches. He was well aware that there were bigger cocks out there, but he also knew he was larger than average and none of the girls he’d ever been with had been unsatisfied. Even so, he was happy to see that his mother apparently didn’t need a forearm-sized dildo to get herself off.

The cabinet below didn’t disappoint either. He knew women were more cerebral than men when it came to sex and he expected she might have a stash of racy literature somewhere. Here it was, and she evidently liked pictures too. The books mostly tended toward cougar stories with a bit of Femdom mixed in. Many of the pictures were of older women having sex with younger men, usually in some sort of dominant role or position. CFNM images were apparently another favorite. Mother, it appeared, had a slight kinky streak. He wondered whether she might have used it on his father or whether it was something that had manifested in the past year or two. In the end, he decided that under the circumstances, the less he thought about his father, the better.

Her closet held a few other pleasant surprises. She had a little leather. Who’d have guessed? It didn’t look as though it was worn often, or ever for that matter. But she had it. His mother in a leather, lace-up bra? Unbelievable. A black corset? Sexy spike heels? He’d never seen any of this, or anything remotely like it, on her. It looked like it was unused. There wasn’t much dust in the house, but there was a fine layer on the shoes and the leather clothing looked a bit dull.

A new urge came over him. None of the girls he dated had ever brought it out and most would be shocked to think such a thing was possible. He wasn’t weak or soft after all. But somehow he couldn’t resist going into the linen closet for a few polishing rags. He looked at his watch, decided there was plenty of time, and then stripped naked, his cock hard as stone, and began to polish his mother’s shoes and leather. He couldn’t help smiling quietly as, whenever he saw a drop of clear precum on the end of his cock, he dabbed it away with the cloth and worked it into the surface.

Susan Helmand pulled into her own driveway and, just as she expected, saw Jim’s car. She smiled, a little. What the hell was going on here exactly? What sort of game were they playing. She knew. What she also knew, after thinking about it on her way home was that Jim had grown into the sort of man his father had not been. Jim was a hard-charging student, about to finish an MBA after completing a difficult double major. He had executive written all over him, inside where it really counted and outside where people thought it counted. He also had the desire to please a woman, inherited from his father, ingrained in him. It wasn’t that he’d noticed the way his father served her as much as he just assumed that’s how it should be. The way he was last night was an example of it. When she suggested he go handle the food delivery, he hopped up and took care of it without question or hesitation. And when she got back from the bathroom, he’d had the food already laid out by the water’s edge. It wasn’t a conscious effort for him to serve, it was natural and easy.

She must be losing her mind. “Practical insanity indeed,” she thought. She was driving up to the house with thoughts of seducing her own son and using him as a slave. “Gee Susan, what could possibly go wrong with that idea? Surely a reasonable person couldn’t find fault with it,” she said sarcastically to herself. If she followed through with this idiotic idea, she’d be as bad – no, worse – than many of her patients. That book she was considering about practical insanity, might turn into an autobiography.

“Ok, enough of this nonsense. I’m going in there to have a nice dinner with my son and that’s it. We’re going to use last night and tonight to start developing a healthy mother/son relationship like we should have had all along if I hadn’t been so damned preoccupied with being successful.”

He had left the front door unlocked for her. She smiled. The neighborhood was safe enough and he was home. It was a nice touch.

“Hey mom. I finished my studying.” That wasn’t a lie exactly, since he had finished it – a couple of days ago. He had been careful to leave a few books on the coffee table though, to keep up appearances. “I made us a couple of drinks. I figured since we had beer last night, something mixed might be a nice change this evening.”

“Oh, what did you make for us?”

“Jack and Ginger. I remember you used to like those occasionally.”

She raised an eyebrow. He remembered right. And it seemed like he was going to adopt the “Liquor is Quicker” strategy. In spite of her better judgment, she was curious. Would he really try to seduce her? What would it be like? She chased the thoughts from her mind and decided that a good stiff drink was just the thing she needed to unwind from the long slow day she’d just endured.

“Thank you, honey. That was very thoughtful. Bring it to me out by the pool.” Damn. Had she just done that? Yes, she’d just given him an order, not a request. Had she done it intentionally or was her subconscious pushing her into this?

They sat out on the patio and made small talk about the day and how it had gone. For Jim this was key to his plan. The plan was a simple one. He was going to get a couple of drinks in her and then see if he could get her to wear the new swimsuit he’d gotten for her earlier today. After that, the plan was a little vague, consisting mostly of “play it by ear.” So far, so good. She was enjoying the drinks and the conversation and didn’t seem to suspect a thing.

“What would you like to eat this evening, Jim?”

“I’m not really starving or anything. I was thinking maybe just snacks. I saw a couple of avocados in the fridge, so I made some guacamole. I was thinking drinks, chips, drinks, dessert, something like that. Do you need a more substantial dinner?”

“Sounds perfect sweetheart.” She was starting to feel the drinks and he’d just mixed up the third round. Better slow this down a notch or two.

But Jim had other ideas. “Mom, how about a dip in the pool? The water was so nice last night. Would you like to?

The water had been divine last night. “Yes. That would be a nice way to spend the evening. How much time do you have?” She wasn’t surprised in the least when he said he had nowhere to be and could stay as long as she wanted. She was surprised when he said, “Mom, I did a little shopping for you today. You seemed to think I was less than thrilled about your bathing suit last night, so I went out and got one I think will look much better on you.”

“How thoughtful,” she said, but did not mean. She did her best to keep suspicion off her face and to seem genuinely pleased. She wasn’t ready to let him know she was aware of the game, still wanting to see how far he would push. She wasn’t good at lying and her ruse might have failed under normal conditions. But Jim wasn’t immune to the effects of alcohol either and he missed the edge in her voice. “Nothing normal about these conditions,” she said to herself as she walked down the hall to her bedroom. The package was on the bed, just as he said it would be. She decided to strip out of her work clothes before looking at it.

“Holy shit! Would you look at this thing? He wants to see his mother in this?” It was a two-piece, technically a bikini, but this thing had so little fabric it surely must have its own specific term. “Mini-kini maybe?” The top was nothing but a couple of small triangles held together with string. They would cover her nipples and not much else. The bottom was just one triangle with a string in back. What the hell was he thinking? This must be a joke, a dare. What a little asshole!

And then the reflection in the mirror caught her eye. She wasn’t perfect, hell she was fifty eight. But she wasn’t bad either. She had an all-over tan from sunning nude on the weekends. That helped a lot. Imperfections look a lot better in golden tan than in pasty white. The legs looked fine. Ass was a little bigger than she’d like. There was a dimple here and there, but they were few and far between compared to most women. Waist was small and tight. Tits, well they were lower than she wanted, but they were big, full and had a certain ripeness to them. Fine. If that little asshole wanted to test her, she’d pass the test and not even flinch. She’d return serve and see what he did once the ball was back in his court.

“Honey, I love it. That was very sweet of you. Go get the snacks and bring them over to the water’s edge. I’m getting in the pool.” She walked past him, head up, tits out, ass swaying, as though all this was the most natural thing in the world. She knew his cock would swell and the knowledge felt good, damn good.

He choked on his drink and sputtered, “Yes Ma’am. Be right there.” That was the last reaction he expected from her. He’d guessed his odds were no better than 50/50 for getting her into that suit at all. He thought a couple of drinks would be the bare minimum opener and after that some cajoling and encouragement would be necessary, maybe even an hour or two worth of it. Even then he’d placed his chances at no better than fifty percent. Not only did she put it on, she looked fantastic in it and she walked like she knew it. He went to the kitchen, his cock already making a tent in his shorts, and gathered the snacks and two fresh drinks on a tray.

Waiting until he saw her push off the pool wall, gliding silently underwater, he made his dash to the edge of the pool, set the tray down, and jumped in before she could see his erection. The cool water would help – he hoped.

She’d ended her glide on the far side of the pool and climbed the ladder to get out. “Jim, this bikini is really small. Are you sure it looks good on me?” she asked as she walked around the pool the short way toward his side. “Yes Ma’am. You look great in it.” He wasn’t lying. It was all he could do to try to keep a calm tone in his voice.

“Are you sure?” she asked, standing directly over him. She knew the small triangle of white cloth had shifted and that one side of her shaved pussy was exposed, but she pretended to be unaware and made no move to correct it. “Y-yes Ma’am,” he stuttered. His mind was racing, but most of all he was wondering where the hell all these “Ma’ams” were coming from. He’d never called her that in his life. She was his mom, not a “Ma’am.” What the hell was going on here?

Now she really felt mischievous. She asked him whether the bottom looked good or whether it made her ass look too big and dimply. As she asked, she turned around, bent from the waist, picked up a chip and dipped it in guacamole.

He was looking directly at her asshole with nothing but a thin string running across it. He was mesmerized. She turned, still bent over, and held the chip out toward his lips, giving him another view, deep into her cleavage. His view didn’t stop there. The carefully chosen white bikini had, as he’d hoped, gone mostly transparent once it got wet. Her large nipples and areola were plain to see under the thin material. “You didn’t answer, Jim. Does this make my ass look too big?”

“No Ma’am. It’s great!” he said with a little too much enthusiasm. She smiled. “You’re not just saying that?”

“No Ma’am. It’s perfect on you. I love it.”

“I believe you,” she said… and she did.

His mind was reeling now. This “plan” had gone so much better than expected that he had didn’t know what to do next. He still kept calling her “Ma’am.” No idea what that was all about, but she didn’t seem to mind it. Obviously it was natural since it was happening on its own without him planning or thinking about it. Whatever. Why fight it? What he did need to fight was the raging erection in his shorts. The cold water wasn’t helping at all. He faced toward the wall of the pool and that didn’t help either. Every time the end of his dick brushed the smooth concrete it felt like a caress and made him twitch and stay hard a little longer.

While he was thinking of all this, she’d entered the pool again and come over next to him. The tray was just out of easy reach, so she lifted herself out a little, extended an arm, and dragged it closer with a fingertip. Slipping her hand back into the water, she made sure to brush the front of his shorts.

“Jim. What is that? You have a fucking erection over your own mother?” She was enjoying the game so far and had decided to up the ante. Inside she was smiling, but her face showed cool anger and her tone cut like a knife.

“Yes Ma’am. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me. I haven’t had sex in a while. I’ve had a few drinks. That must be it.”

“You were sober enough when you bought this bikini for me. Were you fantasizing about me when you chose it? Does your mother make your dick stiff? How long has this been going on?”

Shit! Things were suddenly off track – way off track. Had he interpreted everything up to this minute completely wrong? She was pissed and he didn’t see any way to fix it.

“Stay right here and think about what a filthy little pervert you are. I’m going inside to get out of this suit. Don’t you dare move.” She turned and walked toward the house. He was so ashamed that he didn’t want to look, but he did anyway. “And keep your hands off your cock while I’m gone. I don’t want you jacking your dick in my pool.”

She looked out the window of her bedroom and saw him still in the pool. He hadn’t moved at all and his head was hanging low in embarrassment. She smiled to herself. She’d already made her decision before letting him see her in the bikini. She would make him her lover on her terms. She let him think he had pulled something, and in a way he had. But his victory stopped the moment she decided to wear it. From that point on, she had been firmly in the driver’s seat and she had every intention of staying there.

She slipped out of the wet suit and into the shower, careful to leave the suit where it lay on the floor. After drying off, she looked in her closet for a wrap and noticed the shine on the leather and shoes she never wore. “That little bastard,” she hissed. “He’s been in here exploring. He thinks he’s in trouble now? He doesn’t have the first fucking clue.”

Changing her mind about the wrap, she decided on the short robe that was hanging in the bathroom. Why not? He had probably seen it already while he was snooping this afternoon. The black silk hugged her curves and felt good on her nipples. She teased her clit lightly with a long manicured fingernail and smiled at the happy coincidence that she’d just had them changed from pink to red.

Stepping out to the edge of the patio she called, “Get in here boy,” then turned and went inside.

Part 4

The click of her low-heeled mules across the tile floor gave her reassurance, confidence, in what she was about to do. She sat on the plush white sofa and waited for him to appear. When his sheepish face showed itself, she said calmly and firmly, “Go shower now. Come back in your shorts. We’ll discuss this.”

Jim moved quickly down the hall, happy to be out of her sight and happy that some sort of normal seemed to have returned to her voice. It wasn’t over, but it was a lot better than the harshness she had shown him at the pool. Why did he even care? It wasn’t as though they had always been close. Yet he felt a powerful urge to please her that had never surfaced like this before. Was it that leather stuff in her closet that brought it out? Was it the older woman/younger man pics in her porn stash? The CNFM? Whatever it was, it was undeniable – and weird. He’d never heard other guys mention anything like this.

The shower felt good. It almost washed away the doubts and concerns. Almost. The effects of the alcohol were fading a little and he started to feel a little more in control of himself and the situation. What’s the worst she could do? She’d tell him she was ashamed of him for buying that suit. She might give him some sort of boring lecture about the psychological implications of being attracted to his mother. For sure she’d never wear that suit again and from now on she’d be careful not to give him too many cleavage peeks.

Even so, tonight had been hot. He’d seen her pussy, half of it anyway. He’d stared at her asshole. He felt his cock begin to respond and decided that later tonight, in his bed, would be the best time to play the mental highlight reel. For now he needed to avoid thinking about all that and deal with the task at hand – accepting mother’s annoyance and correction and getting past all this.

“Come back in your shorts,” she had said. What did that mean? He wasn’t supposed to put on a shirt? Why would she be so specific? “Whatever,” he muttered. It wasn’t a good time to disobey simple clear instructions. If she asked why he wasn’t more dressed, he’d just tell her he was trying to do exactly as instructed.

She smiled slightly as she saw him reenter the room in nothing but shorts. She knew that a person’s impulse would be to put on more clothing – protection – to feel less vulnerable in this sort of an embarrassing situation. He had followed instructions instead and she was pleased. She let him stand in front of her in silence until he could no longer hold her gaze and his eyes fell to the floor. Only then, after thoroughly establishing who had the upper hand, did she speak.

“Go pour two more drinks and bring them here,” she said in a low commanding tone. She knew that with each time she gave a simple command and received his obedience, he was being conditioned to accept her authority. She’d told him to stay in the pool, come inside, shower, wear shorts, get drinks, and each time had gotten the proper response. What she understood that he did not was that each command is a building block that helps to create a new paradigm. She was laying a foundation that would lead to his acceptance of more difficult tasks and greater authority.

“Put them here for now,” as she pointed to the end table. “Good. You may sit – on the floor,” she said, motioning to a spot just in front of her. This was going to be fun! His willingness was making her pussy wet. Strong but compliant. She loved it!

“So. As I understand it, after we got a little tipsy last night and I told you how nice you looked, you decided I must be flirting with you. You spent the evening thinking about it and hatched a plan to come over here tonight. You came up with a cover story about construction noise and spent the afternoon snooping around my room, polishing my shoes and leather, and checking the sizes of my lingerie so you could get me a skimpy bathing suit. Then, when I got home you mixed some drinks and kept them coming in the hope of getting me drunk enough that I’d let you fuck me. Does that pretty much cover it?”

He could feel the heat and pressure in his face and knew he must be as red as the polish on her perfect nails. Every word of what she said was correct and hearing it like that, laid out plain and in the open, resonating in his ears, it sounded awful, almost like a crime.

What could he say to the charges? Only one thing. “Yes Ma’am. I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice.

“You’re sorry. Now. You wouldn’t have been sorry if you had ended up fucking me, would you?”

He really hoped that was a rhetorical question because there didn’t seem to be any good answer.

“Well, would you have been sorry if you’d been able to put your cock in your mother? Answer?”

“No Ma’am. I’m sure I’d have been happy about it, at least initially. Maybe later I would have felt guilty.”

“Guilty of what?”

“Guilty of tricking you. Guilty of snooping. Guilty of incest, I guess,” he offered.

“That’s a little too much guilt. First, you didn’t trick anyone. As soon as I got your phone call today I knew something was going on. You don’t call me very often, Jim. I put that together with the atmosphere here last night and I had a pretty good idea what you were up to.”

“I was surprised when I saw the polished leather, but that is a service and nothing to feel terribly guilty about. Checking my sizes so you can purchase a gift for me also falls in the realm of acceptable snooping. Digging through my bedside tables to look at my sex toys and porn does not.”

She was guessing on the last point, but saw clearly from his face that she was on the money. That meant he was aware of the older/younger porn and the CFNM as well. Good.

She continued, “Obviously you want to fuck your mother. I could give you a lecture about what that means in psychological terms. I could scold and curse and ban you from my home for a while. Or I could accept your attentions as a flattering form of affection and allow you to express them freely.”

His head popped up at the last. Was she going to…

“Of course that does not mean you will actually be allowed to fuck me. It only means you won’t have to hide the attraction and I won’t have to deny myself the pleasure of enjoying it. What is your opinion?”

“If I get to choose, I prefer the last option mom,” he said, trying to sound thoughtful and serious and trying desperately not to smile. He was about to make it through this nightmare!

“Good. I prefer that as well, provided that we lay down some rules that will not be broken.”

He nodded his agreement. He knew she could say anything she wanted and he would go along with it without a moment’s hesitation.

She began, “First, I will be giving the orders. You will be obeying. Period. I will hear your concerns, your opinions, and your wishes as long as they are offered in a respectful manner, but the decisions are mine. You will defer to my authority in all things that interest me. In other areas of your life where I am not interested, such as what kind of car you drive or what you have for breakfast, do as you please, but where I decide to become involved or interested, you will obey. Do you agree to this? If not, we can go no further.”

“I agree.” He felt like he was joining the Army or something. Why would she want all that power? Still, she was his mother and had never done or suggested anything to his detriment. He knew he could trust her motives and judgment. And maybe relying on her for direction would relieve pressure in some areas so he could focus better in others. It might not be so bad really. For the first time since coming inside, he allowed himself to really look at her. She was wearing the black silk robe and although he technically couldn’t see anything he shouldn’t, he could see a lot and he liked the view.

She felt his appraisal and smiled. “Take off the shorts, Jim. From now on, when you’re here, you’ll be naked unless there’s a good reason not to be.”

“Good. Much better,” she said as she admired his hard cock. He was about the same length as his father but thicker. Lovely, she thought.

Oddly enough, Jim didn’t feel embarrassed like this. He’d seen the pictures in her room and knew she liked this sort of thing, and he’d seen her toy collection and knew he measured up. It might be odd to be a grown man, naked in front of his mother, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. He sensed that she was becoming something more than mother, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was yet.

The uncertainty didn’t last long. “From this point, you will address me primarily as ‘Ma’am.’ It shows a level of respect that ‘mom’ doesn’t convey. That isn’t to say there won’t be tender moments when mom is appropriate. I will trust you to figure out when those happen and if you are wrong, I will correct you.”

“Speaking of correction, there will be rewards for pleasing me and punishments for failing to do so. I have not spanked you for many years, but that will change. Don’t think for a moment that punishment is going to be fun or sexy. It isn’t. The purpose will be to modify your unacceptable behavior into something I desire and approve. That means punishment will be painful, memorable, and an experience you will do your best to avoid. Understood?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Jim said without enthusiasm. Clearly this wasn’t a “mom” moment, he thought to himself.

“Now, about the things you saw in my closet. Those have never been used. They were gifts from your father, who at one time greatly desired a marriage where I was his dominant and he was my slave. Those represent his efforts to entice me. Obviously, his efforts failed since I never wore them. The reason I refused his advances is because I viewed him as weak. I do not see that same weakness in you, therefore having you serve me is far more appealing. In addition, had I played along with him, it would have been more about fulfilling his fantasies than true female dominance. That doesn’t interest me.”

She continued, “I do understand that the slave – and yes, I’m going to refer to you and think of you as a slave if we go forward in this – the slave has needs, and needs must be met in order for the relationship to work. That said, it’s still not about you and your fantasies. It’s about me and what I want. I will get fulfillment from receiving what I want and you will get fulfillment from serving and pleasing. My end of the bargain, what I provide for you, is experiences you cannot get elsewhere. Your cock will be hard and eager, and you will have all the sexual stimulation you can handle. Do you understand this?”

“Yes Ma’am. I have read a little bit about Femdom.”

“Good. Tell me now, is this what you want?

“Yes Ma’am,” he heard himself say, enthusiasm returning to his voice.

“We will put something in writing soon. For now, we have a verbal contract. I accept your offer to serve me.”

She motioned him forward and when he was close enough, she spread her legs and slouched down on the sofa. “I know you were looking at my asshole tonight. As my new slave, your first act will be to lick it. Before going down on my pussy, you will demonstrate to me that you know your proper place, and mine, by servicing my ass. This rule is permanent and starts now. Begin.”

It surprised him how willing he was, how enthusiastically he licked and sucked at her hole. He felt her relax as he probed as deep as he could. The oddest thought that ran through his mind may have been that she was worthy of such treatment. She was an extraordinary woman, so much more than the girls he had dated so far. It felt right to be on his knees before her, taking her commands, servicing her. A shiver ran through him.

“Well done, pet. Enough. Lick my pussy.” She was really close to orgasm. She knew she could get there from anal stimulation alone, but she didn’t want to inflate his ego just yet. As she felt his tongue lapping her cunt, she sunk back into the sofa, completely relaxed, certain she had made the right choice. He was good at this in a way his father had never been. How much time passed, she couldn’t say for sure, but before she knew it she was on her third orgasm. The time had come to close the deal permanently.

“Very nice, slave. You may stop. Put your cock in me now, but do not cum. You will not be cumming tonight. If you feel yourself losing control, stop and compose yourself. I do not wish to punish you tonight, but if you cum, I won’t have a choice.”

She had read a considerable amount of professional literature on female dominated relationships when Frank’s interest became apparent understood the psychology and physiology involved. It was common practice for a female dominant to control and restrict her slave’s orgasm. This kept the male on edge, obedient, and eager to please. Males tend to get lazy and self-centered when they are free to cum as much as they want. In essence the Femdom harnesses and manages the male sex drive to make it work for her. Damn good system, she thought.

He moved forward on his knees and began to fuck her, cautiously at first and then with growing intensity. His cock was every bit as good as she’d hoped. It fit her perfectly and she could feel herself building toward an easy orgasm. Her moans let him know that he was doing a good job and oddly enough, he felt very much in control of himself. Somehow, knowing he was not allowed to cum tonight had freed him to serve her needs and focus his mind on her responses and how best to please her. He’d never fucked anyone this way before, with his mind devoted solely to their enjoyment. Even though he knew he would be denied his own orgasm, this was thrilling in a different, deeper way.

When she was finally sated, she smiled at him, stroked his hair and face, told him how pleased she was with his performance, and without apology or explanation about his lack of cumming tonight, she got up and told him to follow.

“You’ll sleep in my bed tonight,” she said as she laid her robe across the chair and kicked off the mules. And with that, she flipped off the light, guided his face to her breast and fell asleep as he sucked gently at her nipple.

Part 5

In the morning things felt a little different, a little stranger. There was no lingering effect of alcohol to lower inhibitions and the full weight of daylight and societal norms came bearing down on them. She had been awake a minute or two longer than he had, knew what was coming, and was ready.

“Mom, what now?” he said, sounding a little lost.

“Son, you may put your face between my legs and lick me good morning,” she replied. “And don’t forget what comes first.” Her voice was gentle and her tone to him, tender. It was so unlike last night when he had been in trouble, but at the same time he heard a certain authority in it. It wasn’t a “do as I say or I’ll punish you” type of authority, more of a “everything is fine, you can trust me” authority.

He smiled as he slid his tongue into her asshole and then licked her lovingly, even reverently, until she tapped him to let him know he could move to her pussy.

After a few minutes she spoke, “That’s enough pet. I’m not intending to cum this morning. I just wanted you to greet me properly before we begin the day. You may consider this a new rule. Whenever you share my bed, you will greet me this way in the morning, ass first, then pussy. If I am sleeping later than I should, you may wake me in this fashion. You will also, from now on, be allowed to choose when to switch from one to the other if I don’t make a point of telling you. Understood?”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said, sensing correctly that the mood had moved from mom to Ma’am.

“Now, go in my bathroom. You will find the bikini you got for me on the floor where I took it off last night. Take it to the hall bathroom, rinse it out by hand, squeeze what water you can out of it, then put it on the back of one of the patio chairs so the sun can dry it. After that, make us some breakfast while I shower and dress. I’ll see you shortly.”

“Oh,” she added, “in case you’re wondering, you will remain nude until I tell you different. Go.”

He turned to get busy with his chores, his cock erect and aching. He thought it was a good thing today was Saturday. With all day to work with, maybe she would let him cum. At that his cock twitched, emphasizing its hardness as if it needed more emphasis, and he went about his business.

Well, she thought, that had gone about as well as it possibly could have. Susan had been worried about the morning after effect and whether it would seem like the beginning of something great or an abomination that they both spent the rest of their lives trying to forget. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but it was looking promising. She felt it herself. What the hell was she doing? She fucked her own son last night and she got him to agree to be her sex slave. Not going to be talking about that with her peer group anytime soon! Was she losing her mind? If so, it didn’t feel like it.

True, she had strayed far outside of what our society – or any society – considers normal and healthy. She wouldn’t deny that for a second. But she wasn’t going to advocate that others do the same, so who was really harmed? Was she harmed by enjoying the body of a fit, sexy younger man who happened to be her son? Other than the fact that it would take her out of the dating pool and pretty much eliminate her chances of remarrying, she didn’t see how. And those losses seemed like a very small price to pay for the pleasure she had tasted last night.

Was he being harmed? He had certainly showed an affinity for submission, so chances were good that he would have found it on his own, with someone, sooner or later. Who better than her? She knew him and loved him and genuinely cared for his well-being. It would be a rare woman who could equal her in any of that, and if she could it would take her years to catch up. Did it hurt him for her to take control of his life? She was sure quite the opposite.

In her mind, a female dominated relationship, while clearly outside the norm, made a lot more sense than the traditional relationship did. If she had been able to respect Frank enough to want him as her slave, they would still be together, happily. Outside of the small handful of people whose minds are truly a mess, it’s pretty clear that men are simpler than women. Their desires, needs, and fears are, for the most part, straightforward and easily understood compared to those of a woman. What sense did it really make to put the simpler partner in charge of the complex partner? Clearly logic would dictate the opposite. So if there really was a problem, female dominance wasn’t it.

The incest was another story. As far away as Femdom was from society’s idea of a normal healthy relationship platform, incest was much further. It wasn’t even in the same ballpark. Hell, it wasn’t even the same sport! Her religious upbringing told her it was a sin. No two ways about it; no way to finesse it. What she did last night with her son was a sin. But her practical – uh oh, there’s that word again – experience told her that everyone sins and if she could limit her wickedness to just one thing, she’d be no worse than most people. Besides, it wasn’t as though it was child abuse. He was a grown man and he was doing exactly as he wanted, no coercion or trickery needed.

Her professional training told her it was a problem, but how many people did she meet, on both sides of the notepad, who had their own “problems” and still managed to live life pretty well? Plenty.

She knew this morning that he would have second thoughts and she’d decided immediately that she would not allow his concerns to drive how this day played out. Susan had taken the initiative, as a dominant should, and set the tone for the day by putting him between her legs. She showed him by taking command that he had nothing to worry about and she reminded him of the pleasures awaiting him in this relationship by letting him taste her cunt. It had been the perfect decision, and it had allowed her to buy enough time to analyze the situation on her own and come to terms with it.

August 2018
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