Chapter 1: Mind-Controlled into Loving His Mama

Note: Thanks to WRC264 for beta reading this!

The Figure held up its next masterpiece. It stares at the slender, black belt adorned with a silver buckle. In the most graceful cursive possible, it had written, “Mama’s Boy” on it. The words were beautiful, one letter flowing to the next. Elegant.

Fitting.

The Figure smiled as it headed to the mist. The portal that connected all space and all time and all universes. An infinity of possibilities for its amusements. How long would this game amuse it? The last one had been decades of fun. A rarity. This time...

It stepped through the mist and appeared in a shopping center. A Target. No one noticed the Figure. It was too nondescript. Too ordinary to be noticed. Eyes slid off it, people parting out of the way as it marched with a purpose to the Men’s section. To a display of belts. With a flick of the wrist, it left behind its creation.

Not long after, a mother found it and added it to her cart.

Jason Reynolds

Hair still wet from the shower, I stared at the belt draped across my bed. Black and with a silver buckle on the end. I frowned and picked it up. The script on the belt had my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I whirled around and burst out of the door. I barreled down the stairs and charged through the living room.

It was a lazy Saturday morning. Mom and Dad were sitting at the table sipping coffee and lingering over their breakfast. Mom glanced up at me, her curly, brown hair spilling about her face. Her green eyes fixed on me.

“You found your gift,” she said with delight. “Do you like it?”

Dad was staring down at his phone, flicking through social media or something, not paying attention at all.

“No!” I shook the belt at my mother. It swayed in my hand, jangling. “What the heck is this?”

“A belt,” Mom said with amusement. “I saw it yesterday at Target and thought you’d like it.”

“Like it?” I gasped. “I can’t wear this.”

“Sure you can,” Mom said. “You slide it through the loops of those jeans you’re wearing and buckle it up. Easy peasy.”

“I’m not wearing this.” I shook it again. “No fricking way.”

“Your mother bought it for you, so you’ll wear it,” Dad growled in that same voice he used on perps. He was a cop. His eyes lifted to meet mine. He might be balding, but that didn’t change the authority in his eyes. “Do you understand me, Jason?”

“I...” I swallowed. “Fine. Just get my ass kicked at school wearing this thing.” Mama’s Boy. Why for the sake of all that was fucking holy, would she buy me a belt that had Mama’s Boy written on it. Didn’t she get what it was like to be fifteen? Couldn’t she remember what high school was like?

I was boned.

“You’re being dramatic, Jason,” Mom said, rolling her eyes. “No one’s going to care. Now, are you cleaning your room today?”

“Maybe,” I lied. I had better things to do.

“Go clean your room,” she said and picked up her mug. She sipped her coffee. “And put on that belt. I want to see how handsome you look in it.”

She stared at me with this expectant smile. I groaned. I couldn’t say no to that. Grumbling, I began threading the belt through the loops on my pants. It whisked through one after the other. I pulled it tighter and tighter, the leather rasping as I worked it around. Then I buckled it up tight, the silver falling into place.

A tingle raced over my skin. A prickling of my arms. I blinked at that and shook my head.

“Oh,” Mom groaned in that happy, motherly way. “Don’t you look so handsome? Ooh, Jason, you’re becoming a man.” She stood up and hugged me. I became so aware of her large breasts pressing into my chest through her top. She held me tight. “My baby boy is growing up. But you’ll always be my little boy.”

“Mom,” I groaned in embarrassment at her words, this heat rising in me. Why was I noticing her boobs? I could feel how soft they were. Christ, I don’t think she had a bra on. Her nipples poked hard into my chest through our t-shirts.

“Now go clean your room,” she said.

“Yes, Mom,” I said. I broke from her embrace and turned, hurrying from the kitchen. I had to go clean my room right now. I blinked in shock at how eager I was to obey. I hated cleaning my room. It just got messy again. I didn’t see the point of making my bed and putting away my clothes and straightening everything up.

But now...

Mom wanted me to clean my room. I raced up the stairs to my bedroom, bewildered by all of this. I burst into the disaster that it was. It would take me hours to clean. I could be going out and hanging with Tim, James, Carl, and Eduardo.

I stared at it. Almost overwhelmed by the task at hand. But I had to do my best. I had to put my all into it. I rolled up my metaphorical sleeves—I was wearing a short-sleeve shirt—and went to work. I started in one spot and attacked it.

Like I thought, it was a task that took a few hours. I was working up a sweat as I gathered up dirty and clean clothes. I folded the latter and threw the former into the hamper. I straightened up my stuff. I made my bed. I picked up garbage, far too many Kleenexes that were stuck together, and other items. I opened my window to help air it out.

I even got the vacuum cleaner and ran it through the floor, picking up so much junk.

I stared at my room and looked at how clean it was. Way cleaner than I normally would make it. This was something that would make Mom happy. I was shocked that I wanted to make her happy this much. It’s not like I wanted to make her miserable, I just wanted to do my own shit.

I was fifteen. She didn’t seem to get that.

This dumb belt was an example. Who the fuck would make one that read Mama’s Boy?

The task was done, I headed downstairs. I found my mom in the living room chatting with Mrs. Best. She was the hot, blonde MILF that was best friends with my mom. Mrs. Best was also my friend Tim’s mother. So I had had plenty of time to lust after her while hanging out at his place.

To say that I hadn’t whacked off to the busty Mrs. Best would be an understatement. If ever I wanted to have a Mrs. Robinson experience, it was with her. Only Donna, the hot cheerleader with the red hair I had a crush on, graced my masturbatory fantasies more often than Mrs. Best.

And not by much.

The MILF sat on the couch by my mom, the pair looking at each other. They were both wearing sundresses, Mom having changed, and had glasses of iced tea in hand, condensation spilling down the sides. It wasn’t quite summer yet, but it was starting to feel like it.

“I finished cleaning my room, Mom,” I said, standing before her with this strange craving to gain her approval. What had gotten into me? “I’m going to go to Carl’s house. That cool.”

“I heard you vacuuming,” Mom said, this look of joy in her green eyes. She smiled at me, the bodice of her sundress hugging her large breasts tightly. God, she had tits as big as Mrs. Best. How had I never noticed that before?

Heat hardened my cock. That couldn’t be because of my mother. It had to be because of Mrs. Best. She was here. That gorgeous woman always had my blood boiling. She had that plump smile on her lips, her large breasts rising and falling in the tight fit of her sundress.

“I’m so proud of you, honey,” she said, smiling at me. “Thank you for cleaning your room.”

My cheeks warmed. “It’s no biggie, Mom. I just want to make you happy.”

Why the fuck had those words tumbled from my mouth? Why did I feel like I want to do everything she said. What had happened to me. It was like the belt was making me into what it said on the buckle. What a terrifying thought.

“So, can I go to Carl’s?” I asked.

“Oh, would you be a dear and give me a foot massage before you go?” she asked, smiling at me. She took a sip of her iced tea. “They’re still sore from doing all that shopping yesterday.”

“Sure, Mom,” I said to my shock again. I wanted to get out of here. The other guys had been texting me, telling me to get my ass over there. We were supposed to be having a Smash Brothers Tournament right now.

I wanted nothing more than to get out of here, and yet I was smiling and kneeling before my mother. I lifted her foot and peeled off the pink ankle sock she had on. It slid it off her dainty feet. She had small toes.

I held her foot in my hand and started kneading across the sole with my thumbs. I dug them in at the heel. She let out a groan and leaned back. Her brown hair rustling around her face. A look of delight crossed her mature features. Her breasts rose and fell in her top.

“Oh, Lisa, this is amazing,” Mom said. “Ooh, you have got to get Tim to do this for you.”

“I can’t get my son to clean his room,” Mrs. Best said. “I can’t believe Jason did that. And now he’s giving you a foot massage? Tim’s been talking all morning about some stupid tournament they’re doing.”

“Well, my Jason’s a good boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mom,” I said, staring at her, aching to gain her approval.

She smiled at me.

Joy burst through me, my cock so hard. I worked harder on her massaging her foot. She groaned, closing her eyes. Mrs. Best watched on in envy. I rubbed my thumbs slowly up her foot, my fingers massaging the top. I worked closer and closer to her toes, digging into the ball of her foot. Her toes flexed and relaxed.

Her little sighs were so exciting. I was relaxing with my mother. I was making her feel good. That felt so important to me. I couldn’t stop what I was doing. I had to keep massaging her. Keep relaxing her. She arched her back, the couch creaking.

“Jason,” she groaned.

I loved that I was doing this to her. That I was massaging her and making her feel good.

“The other foot,” she purred, licking her lips. Her breasts jiggled. Her nipples poked hard into the material. “Ooh, you’re making me feel so good. Thank you, Jason.”

“Yeah, he is making you feel good,” purred Mrs. Best. “Wow. What a wonderful son you have, Rita. I am insanely jealous.”

“I’m lucky,” Mom purred. “Mmm, I have such a wonderful son. Yes, yes, he’s just amazing. Ooh, Jason, yes, yes, do my other foot. Mama needs that.”

Mama...

Why did that make my cock so hard? Why was my mom turning me on? And why the fuck was I doing this? I had better things to do. But I was pulling off the right sock. In moments, her dainty foot was exposed.

I grabbed her foot and massaged her. I didn’t even try to rush it. I took my time. I wanted to give my mother the best experience possible. This thrill shot through me as she moaned. I was making her feel good. I wanted to please my mother.

What had this belt done to me?

This wasn’t me? I wasn’t a mama’s boy.

My fingers worked up her foot, my thumbs digging into her sole. She groaned again, her breasts jiggling beneath her sundress. Her legs parted, her skirt around her knees. This strange ache to see up her skirt shot through me.

It should be Mrs. Best I was lusting after. The blonde was a gorgeous woman. The hottest MILF I knew. She could stack up to girls my age in the looks department. And yet here I was lusting after my mother like she was...

Hotter.

I swallowed, my dick throbbing in my jeans. I wanted to run upstairs and masturbate. I ached to fling myself on my bed, grab a wad of Kleenex, and stroke one out thinking of my mother. This was crazy. I was turning into some sort of pervert.

Pussy-whipped by my mother ... God, that was sad.

I reached the ball of her foot and dug my thumbs in. She groaned and licked her lips. Her toes curled and relaxed. So dainty and cute. I glanced up at her, a huge smile on her lips. Mrs. Best squirmed beside her.

She stared with such envy at what we were doing.

“Mmm, that’s good,” Mom cooed when I finished. “Makes me so wet when you massage my feet, Jason.”

I froze at those words. My mother could not have said them. I must have been hearing things. Wet? Like her pussy?

“I bet,” Mrs. Best said. “Ooh, I need to cool off myself.”

“Jason, honey, be a good boy and take off mama’s panties.” Mom stared down at me with these smoldering, green eyes. “And eat mama’s pussy. I need to cum after that wonderful foot massage.”

No fucking way. There was no fucking away my mother just said those words. I had to have misunderstood her. She said something completely different. Mrs. Best wouldn’t be nodding there and biting her lower lip. Christ, I could hear Dad in his den.

My hands reached up my mother’s thighs. My palms slid across her shaved legs. I crossed over silky skin, marveling at how smooth she was. I had never touched a girl like this before. Now I was reaching for my mother’s panties.

“I’ve never eaten pussy,” I croaked, feeling like I was in a daze.

“Oh, you’re going to be just wonderful at it, Jason,” Mom said. “I’m sure you’re going to love your mama’s pussy. You’ll be a natural at it. You know why?”

I shook my head, this incestuous heat throbbing up my cock while my hands reached further beneath her dress.

“Because you love your mama and you want to please her.” She smiled at me. “You’re a mama’s boy through and through.”

“God,” I groaned, fearing that was true.

My fingers found her panties. I slid over the cotton and found the elastic waistband. I hooked them, my heart hammering in my chest. This was so wrong. I couldn’t be doing this. It was illegal. Taboo. Violated every law of nature.

I pulled my mother’s panties down. She lifted her rump, her boobs jiggling in her sundress, to help me slide them down. My heart beat faster and faster and faster. Excitement drummed my heart. My breathing quickened as I rolled her panties down her thighs.

The pink garment appeared in my hand. I breathed in a tangy musk as I slid them down her knees. Was that my mother’s pussy? The scent of the hole that had birthed me. My cock twitched and throbbed so hard as I pulled off her panties.

The crotch was soaked. The tangy scent stronger, mixed with the aroma of cotton. I swallowed and stared at her spread-open thighs and the dark shadow created by her skirt. She really wanted me to eat her pussy.

My mother’s pussy...

“Don’t be shy, Jason,” Mom said. “Eat Mama’s pussy. Mmm, you’re going to be so great at it. I believe in you.”

“Oh, wow, you’re so lucky to have a son that will eat your cunt, Rita,” Mrs. Best moaned, watching on.

I pushed up my mother’s sundress, the yellow fabric sliding up and up her thighs. The tangy musk grew in my nose as I leaned over. My mouth salivated. I wanted to devour her. I wanted to eat her pussy with hunger. I licked my lips.

Then her brown bush appeared. Curls adorned with dewdrops of her passion. Her thick labia peeked through. My heart drummed faster and faster. I licked my lips and leaned my head closer and closer to her snatch.

“That’s it,” cooed Mom. “Eat your mama’s pussy! Make your mama cum!”

Then I buried my face into her bush.

Her curls slid over my lips and cheeks a heartbeat before my lips kissed at her snatch. My mother’s labia spilled over my mouth. Her tangy cream coated my face. I shuddered and then I licked at the pussy that birthed me.

I tasted incest.

My tongue slid through her folds. Mom groaned, her back arching. It was so wonderful to stroke her. I caressed up her slit, loving the taste of her. The tangy flavor of her pussy melted across my tongue. It was an amazing delight.

She groaned, her back arching. Her breasts jiggled. She bit her lower lip and moaned. I licked again and again. This taboo hunger gripped me. I was possessed with feasting on my mother’s pussy. I had to make her cum. I had to please her.

“Oh, yes, yes, that’s wonderful,” she groaned.

“Mom,” I groaned, shocked by how good this was. How hard it made me. “You taste so good, Mom. Just amazing.”

“Mmm, Mama’s good, little boy is eating her pussy!” She smiled. “Oh, yes, yes, that’s wonderful!”

“You’re so lucky, Rita,” Mrs. Best moaned as she watched me eat my mother’s cunt.

I fluttered my tongue up and down my mother’s pussy in stunned bemusement. I was really eating her cunt. Just devouring her. What was my life right now? But, damn, she tasted so good. Cunt was amazing. My mother’s cunt was delicious.

I had no idea what I was doing. I just licked through her thick folds. No tight, barely legal slit here like the girls in the porn I watched. This was a MILF’s pussy. I stroked her pussy lips, caressing them. Even sucking on them.

“Don’t be afraid to go deep into Mama’s pussy,” she moaned, her face twisting in delight as she stared down at me past her large breasts swelling the yellow fabric of her dress.

Deep ... Did she mean... ?

I thrust my tongue into the hole that had birthed me. My cock twitched in my boxers and jeans. Her silky curls rubbed on my lips and cheeks as I plundered her pussy. I thrust my tongue in deep. I groaned, shocked that I was doing this. It was insane, and yet here I was fluttering around in her.

I stroked her. Pleased her. I darted my tongue around in her, loving the taste of her. She squeezed her twat around my tongue. Her thighs held me tight. I groaned, loving what I was doing to her. I devoured her with all the hunger that I had.

I feasted on her with everything that I could.

“That’s so good,” Mom moaned. “Mmm, you’re such a loving mama’s boy, Jason. Ooh, yes, yes, eat my pussy. Eat Mama’s yummy cunt.”

“God, he is going to town on your pussy, Rita,” Mrs. Best moaned. “I’m so wet.” “Mmm, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of,” Mom promised, her pussy squeezing about my tongue fluttering around in her depths.

The tangy flavor of her grew and grew as I fucked my tongue in and out of her. She groaned, her back arching. Those big breasts jiggled in her bodice. What would they look like naked? Big and soft and perfect for squeezing?

How had any of this happened? Why had my mom turned into a complete pervert? What about Dad? I was eating Mom’s pussy. We were cheating on Dad. This was so insane. My cock twitched and throbbed in my pants.

“Mmm, don’t forget about Mama’s clit,” she moaned. “Lick it. Suck on it. Mmm, make Mama cum, Jason.”

“Yes, Mom,” I groaned.

I slid my tongue through her folds and over her bud. She gasped as I caressed her clit. Her pearl thrust out of its hood. I swirled my tongue over that nub. My lips kissed her. I sucked on her. She gasped, her back arching.

Was I about to make my mother cum?

My cock burned in my pants. I wanted to jack off. I needed to free my cock, but here I was gripping my mother’s thighs and sucking on her clit. I nursed on her. She moaned, her head tossing. Brown curls spilled about her flushed cheeks.

“Yes, yes, yes, Jason!” she moaned, not caring if Dad heard her at all. This was insane. “That’s so good! Mama’s going to cum! Ooh, yes, yes, make Mama cum, you a good boy. Oh, Jason, yes, yes, I love you!”

I suckled so hard, her words ringing in my ears. Pussy cream ran down my chin as I suckled hard on her clit. I ached to make her cum. To please her. I had to be a good boy for her. The need utterly consumed me.

Her face tensed. Her eyes squeezed shut. She grabbed my head, attempting to grip my short hair. Then she bucked and shuddered. Her face contorted with delight. She cried out in rapture. A flood of tangy juices gushed out of her pussy.

“Jason!” she howled. “Yes, yes! Mama loves you!”

I drank the cream gushing out of her pussy. I shuddered, drinking that wonderful flood of juices. I gulped them down. I licked them up. This heady rush shot through me as I drank my mother’s orgasmic passion.

I made Mom cum.

I pleased her.

She trembled and moaned, Mrs. Best watching on with a flushed face and gleaming eyes. I licked up the flood. The juices spilled over my taste buds. Incestuous delight spilled across my tongue. I groaned as I gripped my mother’s thighs.

She shuddered and then panted. A big smile spread on her lips. She cupped my face and pulled me up. Her pussy cream dribbled down my chin. She had such a big smile on her lips as she pulled me in for a kiss. I planted my lips on hers.

She groaned as she kissed me with hunger. Her tongue darted out, tasting her own pussy cream. I shuddered, my cock throbbing. I couldn’t believe that I had just eaten out my mother. And now I kissed her.