Hot Mom -An Uber Driving Slut
Copyright© 2019 by Eddie Davidson
Chapter 9
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 9 - A Hot Wife is a wife that fucks men with full knowledge of her husband. He gets off on the fact she is desirable to other men. Melanie was divorced years ago. After the divorce she bought the fake tits and bleached her hair just like the Hot Wife that her husband left her for. This is the story of Melanie's Bimbofication from conservative single mom to trailer park slut and kinky Uber Driving Hot Mom earning tips by sucking tips (of dicks).
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa Blackmail Coercion School Slut Wife Incest Mother Humiliation Light Bond Rough Gang Bang Interracial Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Masturbation Pregnancy Public Sex Nudism Porn Theatre
Same Day - April 6th, 2019
Melanie patiently scratched at her son’s bedroom door like a Dog begging to piss outside. She knew puppies weren’t supposed to speak, but since Brock hadn’t officially made any rules or even accepted the moniker of head of the household, she felt it appropriate to shout when he didn’t answer “Brock? Sir? May I come in? I need to ask your guidance!”
Nicole was sitting in stunned silence watching from the kitchen table as her sister begged entrance into her nephew’s bedroom. It was so unexpected that she didn’t know whether to laugh, scream, or try to stop her. “Put your clothes back on, Melanie! Let’s talk,” she managed, but her little sister ignored her and persisted to beg permission to enter the bedroom.
After a few attempts to get his attention, she knocked and then reached up and opened the door but remained on the floor.
“Oh, my gosh! I am so sorry!” Melanie’s pretty blue eyes opened wide in surprise, and she shut the door quickly.
“What? What did you see?” Nicole stood up and walked over to the door.
Melanie didn’t have to explain because the door to the bedroom opened.
Brock, Jonathon, and Savannah were all naked.
Brock had been fucking Savannah’s mouth, and Jonathon was fucking her ass.
“I can explain!” Jonathon covered his hairy dick with his hands in front of his mother. He had a look of panic on his face.
Nicole wasn’t sure what was going on. She assumed he’d had sex with Brock. “Everyone in this trailer is naked, but me and I have no idea what is happening. Jonathon, what happened? Did Brock take advantage of you?”
“No, nothing like that,” Jonathon looked at his feet, and his face turned red while he covered his flaccid cock with his hand. He was mortified that his mother caught him.
“Why are you standing there? We are done with you!” Brock said to Savannah and demanded she join his mother on the floor.
Savannah had a freshly fucked look that Nicole recognized immediately. Eyeliner ran down Savannah’s face, and her long dirty blonde hair was in disarray. Her tits were a pretty pink from being pulled and sucked on. Her bald was pussy was swollen, and her butt was red from slapping and fucking.
“Yes, Master,” Savannah’s churlish grin was because she was amused and impressed that Brock would dare to order her to kneel at his feet. They had talked at length in the bedroom about their new roles in the household if their mother agreed to domestic discipline. Brock had a much better understanding of what his mother needed and wanted from him now. He was elated his mother offered him the opportunity. There were a lot more experienced people with very wicked ideas to use Melanie, but none she trusted or loved more than Brock.
Savannah worked out the rules with Brock while Melanie and Nicole bickered and drank wine. There were times Savannah dared and challenged Brock to make her do things that he was reluctant to do.
As an example, Savannah had suggested the girls put their dirty laundry in a basket and be handcuffed to it. They would be expected to balance it on their heads like African slaves and walk naked to the laundromat by the pool. The pool was at least 30 trailers away, and by foot would take fifteen minutes to cross that distance. Savannah was willing to go that far, but Brock felt it was too extreme and would get them in trouble. Savannah had been willing to bet that the only trouble they’d get in this jaded trailer park would be jealous bitches throwing eggs at them for parading around naked because the management wouldn’t care.
Brock had settled upon the girls wearing thong panties, light bra, and heels while they did the weekly laundry. That way, all the clothes could be washed except for what they had on at the time.
Many of the rules were what someone familiar with BDSM and domestic discipline might expect, although they were on the extreme side of things. Brock wasn’t an expert on BDSM, but a simple google image search on words like Discipline Training and Fetishes will give you plenty of ideas.
Brock had been very methodical in his approach. He created a framework for the discipline plan that was a general outline. He intended to fill in the details over time. This wasn’t going to fit on a single sheet of paper. He started writing in a blank notebook from school. Brock set his rules up into two sections. The first section had to do with the general operating procedures in the house.
He created a speech protocol section that defined the girls as pets. It outlined why they weren’t on first-name basis with anyone except other pets. An exception would be made for anyone who asked to be referred to by their first name and strippers that were used to having a single name. He defined the need to use please and thank you when talking to their betters. He made it clear they should not expect the same in return. Brock felt it was necessary to define the point he was trying to teach by creating these rules. “I don’t want to be rude for the sake of being rude. I want you to understand that no thanks are necessary when you are just performing your duties. Those are expected,” he said to Savannah.
She told him that was really over-thinking the exercise, but she secretly got extraordinarily wet and excited. Savannah held his arm tightly every time he explained WHY he wanted a rule and what he wanted to teach her by enforcing it.
He placed importance on eye-contact while speaking and engaging with the other person to actively listen. Savannah hated that but understood it made the person feel less like an annoying asshole (even though in her mind, that is what they were). The speech rules covered a variety of everyday situations and how to handle them.
Brock drafted additional detailed rules on walking and physical hygiene. The girls routinely shaved their pussies and legs but often let their armpit stubble or peach fuzz grow on their asses. They would be hairless from the neck down from now on, or he promised to shave their heads. Brock insisted on meticulously removing every hair with a razor or tweezing it. He didn’t know anything about waxing or he would he have insisted on that as well.
“We’d never make any money like that!” Savannah assured him that would kill their stripping careers.
“Once you face the consequences of forgetting to make your body supple and pleasing, you will never forget again. Don’t worry! I’ll supervise you daily while you shave. I am just not sure if I want you to do it on the front porch or the living room,” he put a question mark next to that. He loved it when girls put dark eyeshadow around their eyes. He called it the “Racoon eye.” He wanted them both to start wearing heavy makeup as frequently as possible. Savannah applied makeup while she was in the bedroom with Brock and Jonathon to see if that was what her new master liked.
“I am thinking about hosing you down together in the yard,” Brock said like it was no big deal to shower the girls in the yard. He jotted some notes in the slave grooming and hygiene section of his new rules.
“Sir! what about the neighbors!” Savannah whined reluctantly. She was curious if he’d really follow through once the rumors started circulating. They already had a regular audience for their sunbathing. The frequency of the hose downs in the yard would probably encourage more people to watch.
“Yeah, they can hose you down in the yard as well. Do you think they’d pay to do it?” Brock chuckled and wrote down some rules.
The girls would be eating off the kitchen floor for every meal. They would be expected to place their nose in the food and wait for the order to eat. They’d have to press their tits to the floor and stick their ass up in the air. Once in position they were expected to face their ass towards the table so that Brock could kick them if they were taking their time and not eating quickly enough.
“What about when going to eat at a Denny’s? We could probably get away with it there on the midnight shift” Savannah quipped. She wasn’t serious, of course. Brock wasn’t sure how much he wanted to humiliate the girls publically. He liked the idea of testing their resolve to obey him and keeping them in a constant mindset of humility. He also thought it was an excellent opportunity for them to turn tricks. He was thinking about whether to make them eat naked with one hand handcuffed to the dumpster while he went inside or allow them to sit in the restaurant when Jonathon finally spoke up.
“You guys are fucking with me, right?” Jonathon said. He assumed that Brock was talking about this hypothetical situation with Savannah just to get his reaction. They had been ignoring Jonathon because he sat by himself on the other side of the room and sulked. He had been in this situation before many times with his mother. They bounced around at first staying 2-3 months with guys she dated. Once she ran through most of their good will they started staying with friends and family. Nicole wasn’t complete trash but she had fucked over people too many times and worn out her welcome with just about everyone. Jonathon knew it wouldn’t be long before they’d be sent on their way, and he didn’t want to get too comfortable.
He seemed aloof and preppy, but even this trailer park was a welcome respite from sleeping in the car or cheap motels on the way here. Their car had broken down, and he wasn’t sure if his mother had any other options. He spent his time thinking about what she would do next and feeling like he was a burden weighing her down.
“You expect me to believe that on the day I arrive at your house, your own mother asked you to train her as a slave with your girlfriend?” He was angry that the two were trying to play him for a fool. “You expect me to believe that just like that,” Jonathon snapped his fingers and imitated Melanie’s voice, “Oh Tralala, Brocky-Baby! I’d ever so love to be your sex, slave! will you be a dear and discipline your girlfriend and me in the most extremely humiliating conditions possible?”
Brock brightened a little “You really think this is the most extreme conditions? I thought I might have been too lenient!”
Brock told Jonathon that over the last six months, things had been pretty weird. He said what he was proposing was more consistent and focused, but it wasn’t all that different from the things Savannah and Melanie had been doing.
“Okay, hardee-har! You got me. Jokes on Jonathon,” Jonathon looked for a hidden camera to see if they were recording their attempt to fool him into thinking they really lived like this. “I don’t know what game you are playing with me, but there is no way this is for real. Savannah is probably not even your girlfriend,” Jonathon scowled.
“Why do you say that?” Brock seemed confused. Savannah had obviously been helping him just now. She wasn’t play-acting her affection and approval towards him.
“Look in the mirror and then look at her. Did you ever play that game on Sesame Street? One of these things is not like the others? You and I don’t get pretty girls like her. Hot girls like her don’t just come out and ask geeky boys to punish them and keep them in discipline,” Brock said.
“Awww! You really think I am hot?” Savannah preened. She could tell by the look on Brock’s face that wasn’t the point he was making. “Don’t be jealous of Brock. I am lucky to have him. Unlike most of the turds in this shit factory,” Savannah meant the trailer park and added, “Master Brock has a head on his shoulders, he is smart, funny, and he has a nice cock!” Savannah smirked.
“You can’t expect me to believe any of this. This entire scenario would seem over the top for a Jerry Springer episode,” he said.
“Hah, my Aunt Vicki was on an episode once,” Savannah admitted. It was one of those episodes where family members were pimping their relatives. Vicki wasn’t even the main feature of the episode.
“Yeah, those shows aren’t real! They are all paid actors. You aren’t very believable, anyway. I do applaud your attempt to shock me, though,” Jonathon said haughtily.
Savannah threatened to call her Aunt Vicki and have her come over here with her Pimp/Nephew and knock the shit out of Jonathon to see if that felt real.
“Get your clothes off right now! I won’t have you talk to my guest this way! Squat down on the floor!” Brock said.
“But, But,” Savannah started to pout.
“I will leave it to our guest whether to punish your Butt or not! I was only permitting you clothes for his sake!” Brock demanded as Savannah pulled her top over her head.
“Bottoms first from now! I don’t want to waste time looking at tits when I could see cunt and ass!” Brock said. He was role-playing as well. He was combining a little of Billy, Damien, and Elbert but remaining detached and aloof like a disgusted animal trainer He called the character “Master Brock.”
“Yes, Master, of course!” Savannah shimmied out of her denim short-shorts.
“This is a charade! You can’t expect me to believe this!” Jonathon demanded they stop pulling his leg.
It became real for him when Savannah squatted down with her palms flat behind her and spread her legs, so her tits, ass, and wet slit were exposed to him.
“Mister Jonathon, I am ever so sorry for speaking out of turn! I had no right to be rude to you. I’ve only just begun my discipline training, and I am already making a mess of it. I beg you to punish me appropriately!” she imitated a posh British accent.
“You sound like the snotty girl from Willy Wonka!” Brock chided his girlfriend for putting on fancy airs and talking like Veruca Salt.
“I am sorry, Master Brock. I am not used to being polite. I thought that is what it sounded like!” Savannah said more plainly.
“Polite sounds like the truth when you say it. There is no attitude in polite. There is no bitchy expression on your face. Polite sounds like you are not clenching your fists, teeth, or your asscheeks tightly while you talk. Polite is calm and apologetic. You’ve heard people be polite before you just weren’t listening. This isn’t Pygmalion, and I won’t be making you say that the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain!” Brock said.
Savannah didn’t understand half of what he said, but she found herself suppressing a giggle while she kept her knees wide for Jonathon’s amusement.
“I am sorry, Sir. I have never been naturally polite. My face is naturally very bitchy, but I will do my best to smile. I look forward to learning from you!” Savannah sounded a little more contrite. Savannah’s smile looked fake. It reminded Brock of the expression a child of the corn would have when they were about to stab you with a dagger when you weren’t looking. He told her that it was better, but they would practice smiling and to stop doing whatever she was doing with her teeth. “This is going to take a lot of painful punishment. Are you prepared for that?” Brock asked her.
“I’ve spent my entire life getting kicked, bitten, tits pulled, slapped and punched in the face, Sir. It is about time it happened for a good reason, Sir”.
“That was more than I asked, but I like how descriptive you are when you answer a question,” Brock stood up and handed a wooden dowel to Jonathon. It was probably supposed to be a curtain rod, but the boys had used it to beat his mother frequently.
“Pick any part of Savannah and beat her with this ten times as punishment. Will that convince you she is my slave?” Brock offered Jonathon a chance to punish Savannah.
“I could hit her in the face?” Brock said.
Savannah’s brows furrowed, and she was hoping that Brock would say no.
“No, I should have been more specific. You can hit her across the tits, on the clit, or across her ass. It will help her learn to respect you,” Brock said.
“Why would she respect me? she doesn’t even know me?” Jonathon asked.
“She doesn’t have to know you. You are a guest in the house, and she was rude. If you don’t want to punish her, I will,” Brock reached for the dowel.
“Can I do anything else with this dowel?” Jonathon’s eyes sparkled.
“What would you like to do that doesn’t involve bashing in her face?” Brock asked.
“Can I shove it up her ass?” Jonathon asked eagerly before qualifying his request with “Not far! But like in her butt!”
“Why not far?” Brock asked him.
“I didn’t want to ask for too much,” Jonathon replied eagerly.
“Stand up, bend over, and spread your ass cheeks for Jonathon,” Brock instructed Savannah, and she eagerly complied.
Brock told him to spit on Savannah’s asshole. Jonathon thought that was disgusting, but he did. Brock told him to rub it in with his fingers. Jonathon looked annoyed, but once he touched her wet asshole, he kept rubbing in small circles.
“Hold the dowel like a pool cue and then push it in slowly. Don’t jab it in,” Brock told him. He had shoved things up Savannah and his mother’s ass many times. He didn’t want to tear anything.
Jonathon couldn’t believe this was happening. He pushed the pole in steadily for two inches and stopped.
“Why did you stop?” Brock asked if Savannah was clenching.
“No, I don’t know how far it can go! I’ve never done this before,” Jonathon admitted.
“Your mom said you were gay. How far can a dick go up an ass? You can at least push it that far,” Brock assured him.
Savannah gritted her teeth but tried to relax her sphincter muscles for what might happen next.
“I am not gay. I just told her that because girls think I am a dork. I was tired of disappointing her,” Jonathon admitted. He said he really liked asses, though.
“Okay, well, push it in nice and steady and keep going until you feel something stop you or I tell you,” he said. “Savannah can take at least twelve inches of cock up her ass!”
“You have a twelve-inch dick?” Jonathon said while Brock helped him steady his arm over the girl’s backside and fill her crack with a wooden dowel.
“I thought you said you weren’t gay? Now you are asking about my dick,” Brock teased him. “Savannah can take an entire bowling pin in her ass right up to the base,” Brock enjoyed bragging on Savannah. She might have been annoyed if it had been anyone else saying that but she was happy he was impressed with her.
“What is the biggest dick you had up your ass?” Brock asked Savannah.
“Probably twelve to fourteen inches, Sir! It isn’t fun,” she admitted with a lemony expression.
“Look at me,” Brock reminded the pretty girl to try to make eye contact when she answered him even when bending over. “You are a whore. You aren’t supposed to enjoy sex. You are supposed to please without wanting to be pleased back. That is your job and your life,” he assured her.
Savannah is the one who told him that whores aren’t supposed to like what happens to them a few days earlier in a different context. He was making her perform some degrading stunt and he felt sorry for her because she clearly didn’t enjoy it. It wasn’t lost on her that he was reminding her of it now.
“Yeah, but I do enjoy some of it Sir. I like what Mister Jonathon is doing to me. I want to cum so badly! He is pushing it in so steadily and filling me up from behind! “ Savannah wiggled her legs like she couldn’t wait any longer for a dick in her pussy. Pussy drippings were running down her legs.
“Did you say being a whore is her job? As in she really charges for sex?” Jonathon was thrilled to continue to impale the wooden pole into the girl’s dirty wet butthole.
“Yeah, when you guys got here, they had finished with a guy. That’s why they were naked,” Brock shrugged. It had become such an everyday occurrence to him now that it no longer seemed like a big deal a stranger knocked on the door and asked to fuck his mother or girlfriend.
“They fucked a guy while you watched?” Jonathon stopped pushing the pole up the girl’s butt and looked at Brock with an incredulous expression. He believed that Savannah was a slut who played slave in the bedroom with Jonathon behind his mother’s back. There were slutty girls in Fresno. They just had no interest in Jonathon. It seem so over the top that both Savannah and his Aunt where prostitutes. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen them both naked and watched a man peel out away from their trailer like his hair was on fire.
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