Chapter 19

I know I could have told my son that he had no authority to tell me to crawl when I was perfectly capable of walking, but I was beginning to feel like he had EXACTLY that kind of authority over me. I know that I could have told him that this was all a silly game, and he was going a little too far by expecting me to let him look up my ass.

The previous evening, I had said I wanted my children’s help, and now Chris was helping. I knew it’d be confusing to him if I attempted to project my parental authority over something as silly as walking versus crawling. I felt humiliated now that it was actually all happening, and I was the butt of the jokes and exposed this way.

He had seen my butt many times – when I was tied up over the chair. There was something so intimate now about how I was crawling and feeling fully exposed with my cheeks parted that I felt even more naked and vulnerable. The fact that I had a choice to defy him, but I was doing it anyway only added to my embarrassment.

I was also feeling a little intimidated. Christian had TOLD me to stay on my hands and knees. He hadn’t begged or asked or even suggested. It was like there had been a change in my son that had created some sort of confidence I’d not seen before. I crawled to my bedroom door and even waited for him to open it. MY bedroom door, yet Chris opened it as if he had more right to do so than I did. It was unsettling, to say the least. And it also felt right.

In my bedroom, Chris went straight to the display case. I followed him, still on my hands and knees.

“Get up on the bed, mom,” he told me when he’d pulled the massive butt plug out of the case.

I crawled over to the bed and realized I had a dilemma. If I’d been standing, I could have turned around and sat on the edge. But Christian had told me to stay on all fours and Kendrick had forbidden me to sit on furniture. A bed is furniture. I shouldn’t sit on it. So I tried to crawl up onto it. The chain from my collar pinched my front and made the task impossible to the point where Chris laughed again and helped me up.

He just stood behind me, grabbed my hips and lifted my rear end onto the bed. If he hadn’t had pants on, he would have had his groin hard up against my bottom. As it was, I could feel his penis through his pants, and it was hard! Christian didn’t apologize or anything. Maybe he was embarrassed of his sexual state as much as I was. Maybe he really didn’t care that he had a boner right next to his mother.

“You have such a nice ass, mom,” he said when my knees were on the bed.

“Zortan-the-Exulted,” I asked, hearing that annoying whine in my voice that I was really growing to hate, “Could you do me a favor and stop calling me mom while I’m naked? It embarrasses me.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to be my mom anymore?” he asked. I heard the sadness in his voice as if I was doing something to punish him.

“I’ll always be your mom, honey, but just like you want me to call you Zortan-the-Exulted - a big, strong leader - it embarrasses me to be reminded I’m your mom while you’re seeing me naked.”

“So you want to be a dirty whore, but you don’t want to be embarrassed being one? You know that makes it sound like you’re more embarrassed of me being your son while I’m helping you.”

I couldn’t let Chris think that. Chris didn’t embarrass me at all! “No! You’re one of the best things in my life, Zoltan-The-Exulted!”

“Shut up, mom!” Christian demanded then said he wasn’t finished. I bit my lip and didn’t get angry at him for telling me to shut up despite being stunned that he thought it was okay to order me around like that.

“I was saying I understand that I can start calling you whore, slut, cum dump, Drip, or anything else I want but not ‘mom’”, Chris continued. “That’s not logical. So you must be embarrassed of me.”

My son had a point. Of course, I didn’t really want him calling me ANY of those things either, but at the same time, I needed to distance myself from thoughts of the relationship we’d shared his whole life. I needed him to see me as something other than his mother so I wouldn’t be continuously reminded of our base relationship. I tried to explain that.

Chris just laughed at me. “You’re trying to make it sound like I’m limiting you by calling you mom when your only limits are what you set for yourself. If you really want to break free of the prison you built around yourself, then you’re going about it wrong,” he said - like my teenage son could possibly have any idea what he was saying.

“I want to be a different person, Zortan-the-Exulted,” I admitted, realizing he was right while being so naive.

“You can’t be a different person, mom. You’ve got to be mom AND a slut. And a whore. And a cumrag, if that’s really what you want and I’m truly okay with that. It’s actually really cool having a mom all my friends want to have sex with. I can even help make it happen, if it’s okay with dad.”

Chris just didn’t get it. I didn’t want to be the worst mom ever. I’d rather not be thought of as his mom at all, than be a mother who lets her son play with her ass and encourages him to play with her pussy as well, just to satisfy Kendrick’s fear his son is gay. But how could I explain that?

“So it’s your choice. Either admit this was a mistake, tell everyone you’re sorry, and you’ll try to be a better Suzie Homemaker or embrace what you said last night. This ‘new you’ is really cool. I’ll treat you like you asked to be treated, but only if you encourage me to call you anything I want and to do anything I want. What will it be, mom?” Christian gave me an ultimatum.

“What would you make me do if I agreed?” I asked.

I wasn’t afraid of Christian becoming a psychopath or anything, but he literally said I’d have to agree to ANYTHING he wanted to do. That was as wide open as my agreement with Kendrick. Part of me argued that I wouldn’t be going downstairs to call this whole thing off anyway, so it didn’t matter. All I’d wanted was for Chris to stop thinking of me as his mom or reminding me of it.

He was saying he was completely behind whatever decision I made if I didn’t insist on stipulations. Even silly ones like him not calling me mom. He was okay with making me embarrass myself. My secret fantasy would be one step closer to becoming a reality if he joined Kendrick in doing it on purpose.

“Does it really matter, mom? If we hadn’t had this conversation, I’d be jamming this butt plug up your beautiful butthole, watching it stretch to accommodate something almost as thick as my wrist. I’d be sticking fingers in your cunt and seeing if I could make you dance on them like guys do to sluts on the internet. I’d be bragging to my friends that I’ve got a Hot Mom, and they should come over and see you prance around the house, naked. What did you have in mind?” He asked without a hint of shame.

That wasn’t fair! How could he make me tell him what I wanted from him. That I wanted to feel his dick in me? That I was so turned on at that moment that I’d do practically anything to feel my son’s cock in one of my holes? Then I had it.

“I want you to train me to be the perfect pet. To be every man’s wet dream. I want you to help me win any sex bet your dad agrees to. I also want you to feel comfortable treating me like an extension of yourself, Zortan-the-Exulted, Sir.”

“You know, Zortan-the-Exulted is starting to sound dumb, mom. It was cool at first, but maybe Danny had it right. Just call me Sir Christian, Sir Chris or just Sir, okay? This isn’t a video game, and I don’t want you thinking this isn’t real. If I’m not going to allow you to think of yourself as someone else, I’m going to be me, too, okay?”

“Yes, Sir!” I know I sounded excited at his words, but that’s because I was. My youngest son was totally fine with me doing any disgusting, depraved thing he could think of, and that, in a weird way, made me feel less ashamed of myself. Even if he did insist on continuing to call me mom.

I still had shame issues. Those were as strong as ever, especially when Chris asked his next question. I was also still on my bed on my hands and knees with my bottom in his face. I’d been talking to him over my shoulder because he hadn’t told me to turn around while we’d been talking. That had helped me immensely because I had been able to occasionally hide my face from his gaze.

“How many fingers can dad fit in your cunt?” Chris asked, reaching out and running his fingers down my slot and making me jump a little at the unexpected touch. I still disapproved of him using the ‘C’ word, but I was pleased he used it so naturally. It’s also better to HAVE one than BE one. It was also a question I didn’t want to share an answer to.

“Come on, mom. No more secrets, right?” Chris encouraged me. He could just as easily have suggested the Memory Enhancer. I think he knew he’d asked an embarrassingly personal question but he was enjoying my discomfort more than he appeared to enjoy hurting me.

He proved it when he added, “I don’t like whooping on you, mom. It’s not my thing. I’d rather leave that to someone else as much as I can. Just tell me so I know where to start. I AM going to eventually be fisting you, but I want to hear your answers, to prove you’re being honest with me.”

My son would be fisting me? Oh gawd. I practically squirted on the bed covers, and he hadn’t even slipped a finger between my lower lips ... flaps, yet.

“Your father’s fingers are a little bigger than yours, Sir,” I said, hardly believing I was having this conversation with my son. “He has had three in me, I guess. It’s not something I really ever thought about when we’re making love,” I replied honestly.

“I want to hear you say it properly, mom. Dad had three fingers in you? In what?” he asked.

“In my Vag ... in my cunt, Sir. And sometimes he’ll slip a finger in my asshole too,” I added. He’d made it clear he wanted to hear me talk dirty, so I gave him dirty even though it was difficult. Chris had no way of knowing that me using those words was still so new for me. “May I ask you something, Sir?”

“Sure. I like talking to you, mom. Especially when I’m doing this,” he said, finding my pussy hole between my folds and slipping multiple fingers into me.

I gasped at the feeling and colored at his blatant invasion, but I knew we were way past me being able to complain that my son should not fingerbang his mother. “I already said you can do anything you want, but what can I do to help you make the most of this new arrangement, Sir?” I asked my son.

“I don’t know yet, mom. This is all pretty new for me, to be honest. I haven’t had many opportunities to be with girls or anything. You know, too many projects going on and stuff, and it just never seemed that important. I’m coming to see how much fun it is, though.”

My son had not been with a girl like this at all before, as far as I knew. The way he was fingering me told me that, as much as what I knew about him. He clearly knew the basics - that girls had holes instead of poles between their legs - but as far as pleasing a girl went, he’d gone straight for the hole and hadn’t even tried to warm me up. I didn’t need to be warmed up, of course. I was well primed already, and I was close to suggesting he use his dick instead of his fingers. But it was really the bigger picture I needed an answer to. I asked him to help me understand why he was okay having a mother who would allow him to finger her.

“I like feeling your hot wet cunt on my fingers, mom. That’s really cool, and I bet none of my friends have moms who let them do that, but even if they did, none of those moms has a butt as nice as yours or are as pretty as you. When you said you wanted me to play with your butt hole and put stuff inside you, it was like the best thing ever!”

I didn’t remember ever INVITING Chris to do that, but I never stopped him either, because Kendrick had wanted it.

“You want to know what the prettiest thing about you is, mom?” he asked, then didn’t wait for me to reply. “It’s your asshole. It’s beautiful! The way it looks like the stem of a balloon, you know when it’s tied shut? But when I took that first plug out and your asshole gaped open, that was so cool!”

I colored some more at Christian’s words. Hearing my son describe my gaping butt hole was so wrong to hear as a mother. He was just chatting to me, thinking of my ass while resting multiple fingers inside my pussy. Just resting them there as if he’d forgotten they were inside me. Kind of using them like he’d use his palm to support himself while leaning against a countertop. I thanked him. I mean what else could I say to that?

“Sure, I want to get to know your body better. Dad said I should experiment with you and stuff. But if you’re good and you let me do anything I want without argument, I’ll call you whore or slut or cunt or even Carrie sometimes, instead of mom, okay? I know you don’t like me calling you mom when I’m plugging you,” he admitted. “Hey, your cunt just squeezed my fingers! Do that again!” He demanded.

I’d responded to his promise to call me dirty names instead of, ‘mom’. I hadn’t controlled the spasm in my pussy. It just happened. “I’m sorry, Sir. I can’t control when that happens,” I admitted.

“Hmmm,” Chris muttered like he’d discovered a bug in one of his programs and wanted to figure out what had caused the glitch. “Tell me what a dirty fucking whore you are, mom?” He asked.

I knew immediately why he’d asked that when he laughed. He was trying to embarrass me. I didn’t want him to think he was being successful. “I’m a dirty fucking whore, Sir.” I replied.

“Now tell me your favorite sex position,” he ordered.

His question was so personal that it was really hard to force myself to reply. I didn’t even know if he’d understand when I admitted I liked doggy-style with Kendrick the most. Luckily he didn’t tell me why he wanted to know.

“Are you looking forward to playing with your cunt in front of the whole family, mom?” he asked next, then just looking at my reaction, made a sound of approval.

I was being verbally tortured by my son while he had fingers inside my pussy. Okay, maybe that was the wrong word because it infers something I would never agree to, yet I already HAD agreed to be completely open and honest. Still, it was as embarrassing as anything could be and knowing that didn’t make the question any easier to deal with.

I wanted to break down in tears at the humiliation, but I forced myself to stay strong, and I replied that it was just a pussy and it would be no big deal. Then he asked me if I was okay with Jessica doing the same thing as me. It was kind of a relief to be able to answer that.

“Jessica is old enough to make her own decisions, Sir,” I assured him.

“So what about her helping you blow some random stranger? Or holding his dick while he feeds it into your asshole?” He pressed. I just couldn’t tell my son THAT didn’t bother me even if it sounded kind of hot. I would never be able to tell Jessica that’s what I wanted either, so I had to fudge the truth a little on that one. Again I got that look before even answering.

“Jessica would probably be pissed he wasting a good erection on my butt,” I laughed. It was easier to pretend I wasn’t ashamed to admit I wanted cock than to admit I’d be okay with Jessica seeing and helping me get a guy off. Also, it could easily be argued I wasn’t talking literally about taking a cock in the ass but rather, just having sex, period.

“Would you get mad if Danny wanted to give her the D?” I felt relief that Chris had maneuvered the conversation around to Jessica. Answering questions about my daughter was far easier than answering the same question about myself. I could imagine Jessica happily jumping on my other son’s offer to screw her own brother.

Don’t get me wrong, I was completely aware of how wrong the scenario Chris suggested would be, although Jessica had made her own bed by agreeing, and if it was Danny, it wouldn’t be one of the less savory hoodlums she’d been known to associate with. Danny was at least a wonderful boy. I didn’t even really hesitate when I assured Chris she’d be doing Danny a favor by taking care of him and not forcing him to get blue balls by teasing him and leaving him hanging.

Chris nodded his agreement. He didn’t seem upset that I could say it was okay for a brother and sister to get it on.

“What about me and you, mom? If I was to whip it out and use it instead of my fingers here,” he wiggled and bounced his fingers in my pussy to demonstrate what he meant, “would that be okay too?”

Dammit. He was back to asking questions about me. But I’d wanted to talk to my youngest son and find out why he was okay with what he’d seen over the last few weeks. I was doing that, in a roundabout way. I was learning that my son knew more about sex than I’d imagined, and he seemed to have no difficulty accepting me as a sexual person and not just a mother.

I’d pretty much reconciled my feelings about going all the way with Chris, too. Kendrick wanted me to turn Chris straight. If that meant fucking him, so be it. If it was Christian’s idea, so much the better. I didn’t want to feel like I was forcing my son to do anything. “I want to learn how to be a slut,” I cringed at the word slut, but what other word could I use?

“Cock is cock, and I imagine yours is a particularly nice example of one, Sir. Would you really consider using it on me?” I asked him more forthrightly than I thought I ever could. Again he laughed at whatever he was thinking but not saying.

“And what about dad? He seems really cool with you being such a whore, mom. Jessica too. Do you really think he wouldn’t mind you sucking and fucking other guys? Even his sons?” Chris tilted his head after asking that question as if replaying it in his head or something. I was hoping to get answers and not just answering questions instead. It was a little frustrating.

“I think your dad is showing what it’s like to be a real man, Sir. “He isn’t being childish and jealous but rather, supportive and encouraging. He could have reacted really badly when this all happened, but instead, he accepts Jessica and me and wants us to be happy. All while not choosing to break up our marriage because of my desires,” I said after some thought.

“It sounded last night like he already got his dick wet with Jess, mom, so I bet he is happy. But what if Danny wants to tie you both up and leave you outside for the night, then call his football buddies over to do sex stuff with you? You wont run to dad and complain that he went too far?” Chris had to be thinking that his brother has a mean streak in him. Would Danny want to tie up his own mother and sister? I didn’t want to dwell on that thought. Christian’s eyes got big before I even answered him.

“I hope he doesn’t,” I blatantly lied. I could imagine that very scenario and wished once again that Chris would at least start pumping his fingers in my soaked and overheated pussy.

“Liar!” he raised his voice in triumph. “I get it now! You squeezed my fingers the moment I asked you to call yourself a whore. You didn’t do that when I asked what your favorite sex position was, but you did it again when I asked you the next question! Some of those questions were too easy, yet you still lied. Some were hard and you told the truth anyway. I could tell you were going to lie before you did it. Your cunt is like a lie detector!” He concluded, looking very satisfied with himself.

To say I was shocked would be the understatement of the year. My youngest son, his fingers buried in my pussy as deep as he could get them, was calling me out as a liar. I’d mostly been as honest as I could, too. I wanted to protest my innocence, but Chris was absolutely right. My pussy had given me away.

“I apologize for lying to you earlier, Sir. Will you please tell me from now on when I’m squeezing your fingers so that I can correct my answer?”

“Haha, that’s a good one mom! I guess we should show the others what I discovered, but I don’t think you’ll be walking around with my fingers in your cunt 24/7 from now on. It’s just good to know I can get the truth out of you when I need to,” he assured me.

I knew what I had to do next. I didn’t WANT to, but there were a lot of things I didn’t want to do. Kendrick had been right all along. If there weren’t consequences, I’d never learn and grow. “Will you please punish me for lying to you, Sir?” I asked, a tremor in my voice.

“Look mom. I’ve discovered I’m not a fan of hurting you, okay? I’ll spank your hiney if you really want me to, but I’d rather leave that to dad and Danny. I kind of think Krissy will agree with me on this. I DO want to help you, but I have to find other ways of punishing you and I don’t want you standing against the wall right now so let me think of some alternate ways for you to make amends, okay?” he asked, sounding more like the Christian I’d raised. He was a lover, not a fighter.

When he refused to punish me, the relief had been palpable, but I still felt guilty for lying. Kendrick was absolutely right. If I was punished, I wouldn’t have to carry around the guilt. “I’ll talk to your father later, then, Sir. Okay?” I offered a compromise that felt crazy to my own ears. I wanted to be punished for not telling the absolute truth while my son had his fingers in my pussy? Crazy! But at the same time, it really felt like the right thing to do. Christian just nodded his agreement and looked relieved. Then it looked as if he’d just had an idea. I wondered if he’d thought of something that would make him change his mind and punish me after all.

“Now be honest, mom. Are you really happy that dad’s doing this? Making you do all this naked shit and telling us you want unlimited dick? Or is he forcing you? I got some confusing results with my test,” he admitted.

My fourteen-year-old son was clearly wanting me to tell him this was all Kendrick’s fault, but I couldn’t do that. Kendrick really HAD been simply pushing me in a direction I wanted to go anyway. Even the corrections were something I was aware that I needed. I didn’t WANT them, but if Ken hadn’t insisted on them, I would be just another selfish slut only interested in anything she wanted without thought to how those wants would reflect on others.

“Your father is the best thing, other than you guys, in my life, Sir.” I couldn’t be more honest when I said that, despite having my son’s fingers in my pussy.

Chris accepted my answer at face value. “Then I want you to do another test for me, mom. I’m going to put this new plug up your ass, then I want you to suck me off. I will jizz on your face and you won’t wipe it off. You’ll go to dad and tell him what I’ve done. If I get in trouble, then I’m going to refuse to go along with this anymore, and no one can make me! But if you and dad are really levelling with me, I’ll stop calling you mom for a whole day.”

After I got over the initial shock of what Chris had just challenged me to do, I thought about how I had to look, from Christian’s perspective. I was on my hands and knees, straddling my own bed with my pussy clamped around his fingers. It was probably easy for him to think nothing of the idea of me sucking his cock, the way I was so lewdly displayed.

I was sure that in his mind, me admitting to Kendrick that I’d just sucked off my son was the real test of my commitment, not me actually performing the intimate act on my son or allowing him to stretch my ass more than it had ever been stretched before. Chris knew his dad was aware my youngest son had chosen and installed the remote controlled butt plug, so it wasn’t too much of a stretch to make that last leap to sexually satisfying him as well.

“I have questions, too, Sir. Will you answer mine, now?” I asked, pleased that he reacted favorably to the hope in my voice. I’d half-expected him to get angry at me again and once more tell me to shut up.

“Sure, ask your questions while I get your old plug out and the new one in,” he said as if he was about to do something mundane like remove my shoes for me. I was reminded of times a lifetime ago when I was still a working mom, getting home after a long day in the office. Chris would kneel at my feet and slip off my heels and rub my feet without even being asked. Only now, instead of shoes, it was a butt plug he’d be removing.

He slipped his fingers out of my pussy and looked at them, then raised them to his nose to sniff them. I felt so disgusted with myself for letting him do that – but I didn’t just let him. I had practically encouraged him by waving my wet pussy around and bending over for my son. I had enjoyed being fingered and didn’t tell him he had gone too far – so I was responsible for this.

The REAL surprising part was that he’d had FOUR fingers in me. It had felt like two. They were slimy and had collected a lot of my pussy cream. Just seeing him made me shudder in embarrassment. I wished he hadn’t done it so casually right in front of me, not caring that I was watching him. I mean it’s one thing to be in the position I was in but did he really have to make such a show of rubbing my arousal in my face by inspecting his slimy digits right in front of me?

“Lick these clean first,” Chris ordered, then leaned forward and rested his chest on my bottom so he could reach my mouth with his fingers. I felt like saying no just to see how he reacted, but I didn’t want to discourage him. That was something I later spent a lot of time pondering. How things would have been different if I had never encouraged him. I parted my lips and timidly poked my tongue out. It wasn’t like I had never tasted myself, but I’d certainly never tasted myself off my son’s fingers before.

Christian had other ideas. He wasn’t going to wait for me to work up the courage to daintily lick his fingers. He just pushed them into my mouth instead, forcing me to suck my juices off them. One thing I’m good at is sucking Ken’s cock. He’d even said I was better than Jessica, and it was a little late to be acting coy around Chris anyway, so I put my best effort into the job at hand, pun intended.

Damn mom, you must be a real good cocksucker! You might have to blow me twice if I’m going to leave jizz on your face for you to show dad,” he joked. I think he thought at the time, it was a joke anyway. Teens have hair triggers and Chris would be no exception. Oops, getting ahead of myself again.

Anyway, when I was finished cleaning his digits off, he played with the plug in my ass before pulling it out. He turned it left and right like an old fashioned radio dial, before wiggling the flange up, down, and side to side, which did amazing things inside me, before adding pressure and pulling on it.

This time he didn’t just jerk it out like ripping a bandaid off skin but carefully added more and more pressure, watching my anus clutch and finally release the toy. He seemed disappointed when it came free. My butt hole wasn’t left gaping open but had closed already by the time the toy was completely free of my grasp. He seemed disappointed and pushed it back inside me.

“Keep your asshole open this time, mom,” he demanded, sounding to my ears like a petulant child. As if I had control over what my butt hole did!

Here’s a challenge for any female readers. Try telling your teen child to pull a butt plug out of your ass fast so the hole won’t close up before your son can have a good look. Doing so is more humiliating than it sounds, but that’s what I had to do. I had to suggest my son jerk it out and ‘surprise’ my butt if he wanted to see me gaped open and watch it retract to its normal state. I didn’t know how to control my sphincter to that degree without assistance. He did just that then casually said he’d help me work on my control.

“So what questions do you have, mom?” He asked as he inspected the butt plug he’d removed before dropping it to the floor. He was done with it, and I could tell he simply expected me to clean up after him. He could have set it on the nightstand, but I had to later fish around under the bed to find it.

The most burning question I had, related to the way he still called me mom. “Will you ever see me as your mom again, Sir?” I asked barely above a whisper. My question caused him to giggle.

“Seriously, mom? I thought you DIDN’T want me to think of you as my mom!” he laughed.

“I mean like a parent, Sir,” I clarified.

“You mean like in charge of me and stuff? Making me eat broccoli and go to bed on time? You’ll always be my mom, but I’m too old to need THAT sort of mother, Drip,” he said, using the name Ken had temporarily assigned to me. “You’ve become the sort of MILF my friends all jerk off to. I know they do, even if none of them will admit it. MILF’s don’t parent their kids, they serve them. It’s just part of life, mom,” he lectured me. “You raised me and now you serve me.” he said seriously, as if he had expected nothing less.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. I hoped Chris didn’t think all women raise their children to think it was normal for a mother to start prancing around naked, asking for discipline, discuss having sex with strangers, and letting their children fingerbang them? It certainly answered the question I had about why Chris so easily accepted me doing this.