Mike and Helen
Copyright© 2025 by work for nothin
Chapter 7: The Website
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 7: The Website - Helen Price and Mike Price are a mother and son who are in an incestuous relationship. After a long relationship, Mike becomes increasingly obsessed with his mother and wants to possess her completely. Can Mike completely possess Helen, who has decide to be one of the women of a gang leader named Big Daddy?
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Ma/Ma Consensual Rape Romantic Fiction Crime War Incest Mother Son Orgy Interracial Black Male White Female Anal Sex Double Penetration Fisting Sex Toys Cat-Fighting Violence AI Generated
When they arrived at Mike’s house, the quiet was almost deafening after the chaos of the pawnshop. They walked in, the door creaking slightly, and Mike was immediately hit with the familiar scent of his mother’s perfume. He could hear the faint sound of her breathing coming from her bedroom, and his heart clenched in his chest. He knew what she had been through, knew the pain she had endured for his sake.
He crept down the hallway, his heart pounding, and pushed the door open slowly. The sight that greeted him was one he never wanted to see again. Helen was laying on the bed, naked and exhausted, her body sprawled out in a tangle of sweaty sheets. For a moment, he thought the worst—that she had been sold again to some group of young, hungry boys eager to claim her for their own.
Mike’s instincts took over, and he rushed to her side. He gently pulled the comforter up to cover her, his hands trembling with rage and fear. He whispered her name, but she didn’t stir. Her eyes remained closed, her breathing shallow and fast. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened to her, what Big Daddy could have done to her to leave her in this state.
He leaned in closer, his hand brushing against her forehead. It was cool, thankfully not the feverish heat he had feared. She was just tired, drained from her nightly ordeals. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and determination. He would save her from this life, no matter what it took. He would use this camera, this newfound power, to change their fate.
Mike leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, the camera forgotten on the bedside table. In this moment, she was just his mother, and he was her protector. He pulled the comforter up higher, tucking it around her shoulders with trembling hands. Then, with one last lingering look, he stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.
The house was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside filtering through the blinds. He walked back to the living room, where Roxie was waiting for him. She looked at him with a knowing smile, her eyes full of understanding. “It’s time to get to work,” she said, her voice a low murmur that seemed to carry the weight of their shared secret.
Mike nodded, his resolve strengthened by the sight of his mother’s bruised and battered body. He picked up the camera, the cold metal a stark reminder of their mission. They had a future to build, a life to claim back from the clutches of Big Daddy and his perverted empire. And they would do it together, with every depraved act captured on film serving as a stepping stone to their ultimate goal.
They sat down at the table, the camera between them, and began to plan. The next shoot would be at the ‘Pussy’s Playpen’, where the real money was. Where the rich and powerful came to indulge in the most twisted of fantasies. Roxie leaned in, her breath warm against his neck as she whispered ideas, her hand brushing against his cock. He felt a shiver of excitement and revulsion, the lines between their roles blurring even further.
Mike knew that he was walking a tightrope, one that could lead to either salvation or damnation. As he sat with Roxie in the dimly lit living room, the camera between them, he couldn’t shake the image of his mother’s lifeless form from his mind. The very tool that could set her free was also a symbol of her enslavement. But he pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.
“We need to move fast,” Roxie murmured, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “We’ve got to make that footage work for us.” She leaned closer, her breath hot against his ear. “We’re going to start a website, Mike. A place where people can see the kind of... ‘art’ we create.” She spoke the last word with a hint of sarcasm, but there was no mistaking the seriousness in her voice.
Mike swallowed hard, his mind racing as he processed her words. A website. He’d heard of such things, of course, but had never imagined creating one himself, much less for something like this. “How do we do that?” he asked, his voice hoarse with nerves.
Roxie leaned back, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “It’s simple, really,” she said, her hand sliding up his thigh. “We’ve got the content, now we just need to find an audience. We’ll edit the footage, make it look professional. Maybe add some music, some special effects. Make it something people will want to buy.” She squeezed his cock gently, her thumb tracing the length of it through his pants. “And when they do, we’ll use that money to buy Helen’s freedom.”
Mike felt a jolt of arousal at her touch, despite the grim reality of their situation. He knew he should push her away, but the desire was too strong. Instead, he leaned into it, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “Whatever it takes to save her.”
Roxie’s eyes searched his, and for a moment, he saw a flicker of something genuine, something that went beyond the mask of the seductive veneer she had worn in the pawnshop. Then she leaned in and kissed him, her lips soft and warm against his. It was a kiss filled with promise, with the understanding that they were in this together, no matter how depraved the path they had chosen.
When she pulled away, she left him with a gentle pat on the cheek and a mischievous smile. “We’ve got another shoot tomorrow,” she reminded him, her voice a sultry whisper. “At Ishawna’s place. Don’t be late, okay?” And with that, she was gone, her footsteps echoing down the hallway before the door to her room clicked shut.
Mike was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of their plan heavy on his shoulders. He knew that Roxie was right; they had to keep moving forward. But the thought of his mother, of what she had suffered and what she would continue to endure until they had enough money, was a constant ache in his chest. He stared at the camera, feeling a strange mix of revulsion and desire. It was a tool of their liberation, but it was also a reminder of the depths to which they had sunk.
With a deep breath, he pushed himself off the couch and walked over to his study, the room a stark contrast to the chaos of the pawnshop. The smell of leather and old books comforted him, reminding him of his old life, the one before he knew the dark secrets that his mother’s world held. He turned on the computer, the screen flickering to life with the glow of possibilities. He had to focus on the task at hand, to build a website that would be their ticket out of this twisted reality.
Mike’s fingers danced over the keyboard as he navigated to YouTube. He knew nothing about building websites, but he was a fast learner, especially when it came to the darker side of the internet. The tutorials were surprisingly easy to follow, guiding him through the process of setting up a domain and choosing a template. Each click brought him closer to their goal, the cursor moving with a precision that belied the turmoil in his mind.
The hours ticked by as Mike absorbed the information, his eyes flickering over the screen with a focus that would have made his teachers proud. He learned about HTML and CSS, about hosting and domain names. The terminology was foreign to him, but he devoured it, eager to master the digital landscape that would be their gateway to freedom. The room was lit only by the computer’s glow, casting eerie shadows on the bookshelves that held the remnants of his innocence.
With each new piece of knowledge, Mike felt a sense of empowerment growing. This was his way to fight back, to turn the tables on the monsters who had taken his mother from him. He knew that a sleek, professional-looking website was essential. It had to be as alluring and as captivating as the scenes they would upload, drawing in viewers with the promise of the forbidden and the taboo. His mind raced with ideas for the layout, the color schemes, and the perfect way to showcase their perverted art.
He worked tirelessly through the night, crafting a digital fortress that would be the foundation of their new life. The website took shape before his eyes, a testament to his determination. It had to be perfect, a shining beacon in the sea of smut that was the internet. He wanted it to stand out, to be the one that the rich and powerful would seek out for their twisted desires. The better it was, the more money they could make, and the closer they would be to saving Helen, his beloved mother.
As the sun began to rise, casting a soft glow through the blinds, Mike finally sat back, his eyes bleary but his spirit unbroken. The website was almost complete. The layout was sleek, the color scheme a tantalizing mix of black and red, the images chosen with the precision of a master chef selecting the ripest fruit. But it was the content that was the real draw. He had done his research, and he knew what the most discerning clients craved. Stepmother and son scenarios, interracial gangbangs, and a whole spectrum of taboo delights were laid out like a feast for the perverted elite.
The idea of incorporating these genres into their website had come to him like a revelation in the early hours of the morning. It was as if the dark gods of the porn world had whispered in his ear, revealing the secrets to their success. He had to make sure that every scene they shot, every moment they captured, would appeal to the sickest of appetites. It was the only way to ensure that the money would flow, that Helen would be free from Big Daddy’s cruel grasp.
With a final click, the website went live. Mike sat back, his heart racing as he stared at the screen, his creation laid bare for the world to see. It was a twisted reflection of their lives, a digital altar to their depravity. But it was also a weapon, one that could cut through the chains that bound his mother. He took a deep breath, his hand hovering over the mouse. It was time to upload their first masterpiece, the pawnshop footage.
The video was a stark reminder of the lengths they were willing to go for Helen. Roxie’s moans filled the room as he uploaded it, her face a masquerade of pleasure and power. Each frame was a testament to her skill, a siren’s call to those who craved the darkest of erotica. Mike felt a strange mix of pride and revulsion as he watched it upload, knowing that this was just the beginning.
With the task complete, Mike turned off the computer and made his way to the kitchen. The house was still, the only sounds the ticking of the clock and the distant hum of traffic. He poured himself a glass of water, the cool liquid a balm for his dry throat. The weight of what they had done settled on his shoulders, but he couldn’t afford to dwell on it. There was work to be done, a job to keep, and a future to build.
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