Chapter 2

Charlene read gold lettering across the window. “National Trussed and Groan.” She entered into a wonderland of plastic and leather, erotic clothing and costumes. A man wearing a tuxedo and a bowler hat nodded at their entrance. Most of the sex apparel was targeted at gay men, but her son was not intimidated. He walked up to the counter and asked the clerk, “Where are your masks?”

The boy’s mother inhaled sharply. Did her son want to hide her face? Was he ashamed of it, like the stranger had been? Charlene’s better sense dialed down her long held fears. Joey must have another reason for getting a mask. Maybe it was for him. Maybe not but her heart knew that her son fully accepted her burned face. That didn’t mean his purpose wasn’t going to cause her grief.

“You must be eighteen to shop in here, Sir.” The clerk’s eyes were steeled against anything the boy might tell him.

“Mom?” Joey called. “You handle this.” He stepped back.

Charlene sighed and went to the counter. “I can make him leave, Mister, but then I’ll be going in an out of your shop a dozen times to consult with him, and he’ll be an eyesore to any other customers passing by.”

The man’s resolve held firm. “You must be plants sent by the police.” He pointed at the door.

Charlene shrugged at her son. She had done her best.

Joey fumed and nearly turned away. Then he scowled at his mother. “Show him your tits, Bitch.”

The man’s eyes turned from steel blue to shocked blue as he blinked in confusion.

The name, Bitch, had an immediate effect on Charlene when sharply called. Without time for a single button, Joey’s mom exhaled and tugged her blouse and bra up to her chin. Her naked, firm and large bosom heaved out into the warm shop’s air.

“Cops can’t afford titties that good.” Joey found strength in confrontation.

The man sneered, quickly proving his sexual preference, but he wavered. “You have one minute.” He allowed before turning his head away from the repugnant sight.

Joey dashed around the shop and quickly found a glass case featuring exactly what he was looking for. The price tags dashed all hope. The cheapest mask was over a hundred dollars! The forty in his pocket and the twenty that his mother had earned wasn’t even close to the price. He’d have to buy or make some awful looking cheap thing, but the boy doubted it would suffice to enable his grand scheme.

Returning to his mother, who had tucked her blouse in place, he grumbled. “Let’s go.” He considered making her pay for it, but he had wanted to give to her as a gift, from master to slave. Not that he liked the title of master. It was too boring.

“You said this was the place.” His mother enquired.

“It is.” Joey began to sulk.

In mundane ways Charlene knew her son better than he knew himself. She guessed the problem. She wasn’t completely naive about the cost of sex costuming. Also, she was flattered. There must be a reason that her son didn’t tell her to pay. Either the item was so expensive, she would refuse to put that large of a charge on her card, or what her son wanted was just beyond his budget. “Do you want to work extra at home to earn more allowance?”

Joey blinked then. His mother was trying to help without shaming him. His heart lurched in a good way. “I need sixty more dollars.” He admitted.

“Give me all of your cash, Son.” She avoided saying his name. He handed her two neatly folded bills and a wadded up twenty. “Now tell the man what you want.”

She waited the few seconds it took to retrieve the item. They were difficult seconds for Charlene, who had to refrain from fingering her aroused sex. Helping her son to make her his slave was hot for her, unlike being told to give a strange latino a boob job.

“Don’t look, Mom.” Joey told her. He asked the man to wrap her present.

She paid with a credit card, and mother and son left the bewildered clerk in his shop of macho sex wear. The man pulled his phone out of his pocket and squealed into it. “Danny, you’ll never believe this...”

They caught a bus after waiting only ten minutes. Passengers lined up to board. The ride home was packed with workers at the end of another weekday. “I’m not going to give it to you until I’ve paid for it, Mom.” Joey told her.

Charlene was in an elevated mood and dared to taunt. “Maybe by then my behind will have recovered.”

“That’s not what I meant, Mom.” Joey pouted.

His mother knew he hadn’t, despite how much her sore ass wished he had. The moment they returned home, he told her to strip and bend over the couch until her back was horizontal. He place the mysterious plain brown package bound by grey string, on her back and began spanking her. “I may have to earn sixty dollars, but I still own you.” Joey pushed down his pants and fucked a hot load of cum into her recently evacuated womb! Joey stared longingly at the gift while he pummeled hard cock into his mother’s wet, sucking puss. The intensity of her moans pleased him. If she hadn’t sucked him a few hours earlier, he would have cum quickly.

Mr. Rudy Tucker (he had taken Charlene’s first husband’s last name) entered his home, from the garage and found his wife and step-son adjusting their clothes. An unmarked package had tipped over on the far couch cushion.

“We were just play wrestling.” His wife explained while she shifted her weight back and forth on her legs. Joey’s hand had gotten so strong that his spanks hurt almost as much as the sharp crack of a belt! With a cement poker face, Rudy marched to their bedroom and locked the door.

Joey performed three weeks of extra chores to earn sixty dollars. The boy repeated his grand scheme in his head while he worked, often to be distracted by the memory of earning twenty dollars in less than five minutes by whoring out his mother to a randy stranger. “Some day...” He mused.

He had one photo to post on 9liveswives, until he could take the ones he would need to enable his plan. Joey would stare at the image of his mother while he fucked one of her cum sucking holes. Her face was covered by a grungy cap, and a fat cock head poked up from her boobs, as she kneeled in the back of a bus to earn a dirty twenty dollar bill.

Charlene had smoothed out that very bill and used it as a pagemark, when she had time to read the latest book club recommendation. Instead of reading, she would sometimes find herself masturbating and imaging all kinds of kinky masks that her son might have bought for her.

During this time, Joey kept trying to ‘break in’ to the inner circle of the online sex forum. What he thought was a key to that realm proved merely a stepping stone. He began with a couple posts about ‘his woman.’ After writing about how sexy and hot Bitch was, and the various things he did to her, a couple members called his bluff. “Show. Don’t tell.” They wrote curtly.

Joyous that the people who hadn’t until then acknowledged his existence, had fallen into his trap, Joey posted the picture of his mom, her face covered by a ball cap, white boobs wrapping the hard dick of a coffee and cream colored latino in the back of a city bus. Take that, you tight-asses!

“Nice pic, MILFlash. But there’s no proof the woman is yours. People post other people’s pictures all the time and claim the woman is theirs.” A longer, ‘splainy, post asserted. MILFlash was Joey’s online name or nym.

By then Joey had earned nearly forty five dollars of the sixty he needed to pay for the mask. Upon reading the smug reply, Joey nearly screamed for his mom. But it was late at night, when Joey could use the house computer without getting caught. Fuming, he shut off the machine by pulling out the plug. Joey stomped to his room and grabbed the waiting gift from out of his closet. He nearly tore off the wrapper right then!

Gripping it, the boy stared, eyes smoldering. What would Sam do? Whenever Joey’s anger overwhelmed him, his best friend had always been there. Sam could diffuse Joey’s explosiveness better than a bomb squad. Only it was late, and even Sam might laugh at getting angry over an internet post. Joey found a laugh inside of himself and let it out. It didn’t erase his anger, but he calmed enough to act less irrationally. He set down the gift for his mom and stalked out into the hallway. Slowly turning the doorknob to his parents’ room he eased within and crept up to his mother side of their bed.

“Mom.” Joey jostled her shoulder. She grunted in her sleep but didn’t wake. The shoulder strap of her thin nightgown slipped to the edge of her arm. Joey got a nice view of her amazing cleavage. One large breast peeked a corner of its dark nipple over the top of the sheer garment.

“Bitch!” The boy hissed low, his penis stiffening. He flicked a finger against his mother’s cheek. To his surprise, his mother’s mouth opened to form a perfect O, as if to be ready for her randy son to take her however he liked, just as a good slave should.

Joey’s dick turned rock hard in his pajamas. He almost took it out and made use of her sultry lips, but the boy was on a mission. He was considering slapping his mother harder when her eyes jiggled behind their lids and her lids fluttered open. Her mouth’s O collapsed from a mutter. “Joey?”

He tugged on her shoulder then, the nighty strap falling over her arm. “Shhh, it’s me.”

Her eyelids pressed closed then opened wide. “What time is it?” She whispered.

“That doesn’t matter. You have to come with me, Bitch.”

It wasn’t the first time that Charlene had been woken in the middle of the night to service her son. Moonlight seeping through curtains lit the room enough for her to notice the state of Joey’s penis. Even her sleep addled mind was struck by the size of the tent in his pants. Cautiously, she crept out from under the bedclothes and crawled off of her bed.

Joey stepped to give her room. The heel of one foot struck a chair, causing the back of it to strike the wall with a whap! “SHHH!” Mother and son hissed together, louder than they wanted.

The bed jiggled, and Rudy’s head turned slightly. His lips muttered. “Charlene?” His wife stepped to hide her son from her husband. “Go back to sleep, Honey. You’ll be cranky at work if you don’t.”

“I love you.”

“You’re a wonderful husband, Rudy.” Charlene answered honestly.

“Where are you going?” Her husband asked.

Before Charlene could answer, Joey, still miffed by the reaction to his picture posting, hissed. “I’m taking her to my room.”

“Joey?” His step-dad sounded confused.

Charlene’s heart flipped in her chest. What was her son thinking? “Joey, uh, had a bad dream, Honey. I’ll be back soon.” She sensed that her son was in one of his darker moods. Her ass had become sensitive to them like Spiderman. Before words turned into shouts, she hustled Joey out of her room.