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 â€“ 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 â€“ 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 â€“ protection â€“ 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 â€“ 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 â€“ and yes, I'm going to refer to you and think of you as a slave if we go forward in this â€“ 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.
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 â€“ or any society â€“ 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 â€“ uh oh, there's that word again â€“ 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.