My Mother, Mine Ch. 04

My mother… mine?

And we do work on it. Meticulously, with a number of different tools. Punctually… every time we meet and that is a least 4 times a week. Hard… as hard as it gets for my cock and that is pretty hard, most of the time.

God, what a variety of tools and toys people in the Lifestyle amuse themselves with! When I’m not with Jane I’m grazing the internet, looking for new ones, studying them diligently, reading reviews, making sure I know exactly what to do with them before I make a purchase and try it out on my willing little slut, Jane.

After the first silly mask — well yes, silly, the word still comes up when I think of it, never mind that it does, it WAS rather silly, right! — I got her cuffed, first just her wrists, then her ankles too.

Too bad her bed is a bit ill equipped for experiments with cuffs: the head end does have a rod, but only at the top, not on the sides and it’s actually a bit too high to properly fasten her on it. Well, maybe we should have another one, in time, I’m telling myself during my gold digging internet sessions.

Next came ropes. Not bad at all, but it did make me realize some bondage course might be a good idea. There are such delicious pics of tightly bound subs and slaves on the internet… their breasts strapped down, bulging out of their narrow constraints and oh, those ropes just alongside their clits, tied in a V… wouldn’t it be great if I could do that to my sweet Jane?

She thinks it would, I asked her… I never buy something before showing her first, not to ask her permission of course… after all I am her Master. But to make her drool in advance and drool she does, although sometimes she looks a bit alarmed as well, which I like even better. For instance when I showed her a cage, a rather tiny one, admittedly.

“Oh!” Her eyes turned into saucers while she stared at it. “You really think I would fit in something like that? But… but…”

“Yes, my little slut?” I asked her in a deliberately benevolent voice.

“But… but you know I’m a little claustrophobic!” she blurted out, with an anxious look at my face.

How would her Lord and Master take her back talk? Well, by spanking her on the spot, of course. Something I really got to appreciate and I’m pretty sure Jane does to. There is something inherently erotic at making your girl bend over on your knee, stripping down her panties and coloring her cheeks, stroking them in between and casually fingering her as well.

Well, judging on the speed at which Jane gets soaking wet when I’m spanking her, she enjoys herself thoroughly in these situations. So I’m really doing her a favor, so to speak. But so far the cage did not enter her apartment yet. Maybe later.

That flimsy mask from our first time has of course long since been replaced by a proper one: a mask that can cover a lot of her face, which even can be extended with a gag. Although I did get a stand-alone gag for her too.

It’s so nice to see her eyes shift from apprehension to curiosity, from puzzlement to excitement and back to apprehension again, for instance when I use that precious paddle on her, or a flogger or a riding crop. So far we have not tried a whip yet, but I have been looking for one for some time now, although I have not told her.

Somehow something seems to keep me from seriously looking for one… with the actual intention of buying one, that is. Maybe it’s the association with my mother. I do try to think of my mother as little as possible, that’s only fair to Jane, right? And to be frank, it’s more comfortable for me too. And why should I think of her, anyway? What with such a delicious little sub, all mine, all eager to please her Master in whatever way she can think of!

Because it’s not just tools and toys we are trying out, of course. That would just be part of the D/s story. Seriously, we are working our way toward the whole package, my eager little slut and her stern Master.

So, that’s what I’m grazing the internet for as well. To get ideas for nice chores I can give her, like going to college without panties on. Or like fingering herself — in my absence — with a rolled up newspaper between her legs, and ordering her to start all over if she happens to drop it. Or like… well, let me just say, the possibilities are infinite. And it’s so nice to hear her report it to me with her naked bum on my lap, feeling her rise a little because those reports make me as hard as they make her wet.

Speaking of which… her anal cherry has been picked weeks ago, it was one of the first things I insisted on after our first play session. Although it did bring one of these worried looks on her face when I mentioned it, she did get along with it obediently enough.

To be honest, it was a bit of a disappointment, firstly because it was so hard to get in at all, even with all that lube. And secondly because it was a bit messy. Let’s just say my Jane is not really the obstipated kind of woman, on the contrary. So, since then I make her have an enema first and that seems to be satisfying pangaltı escort for both her and me.

And now, since yesterday, there is talk of us living together. Not sure who brought it up… maybe Jane. Admittedly, it is an appealing idea. After all it’s about time I left my parent’s house. On my own I could not afford it, but with the two of us, sharing the rent would make a nice apartment quite within our reach, with Jane’s earnings and mine.

And oh… the thought that I’d never have to see that eloquent newspaper again at breakfast… my father sure knows how to hold it, how to make it rustle in a way that speaks volumes.

But my mother… I’m really in two minds about her. On the one hand I’d be leaving her all alone with that bastard and I’m sure she will be devastated when she hears I’m planning on moving out.

On the other hand… well, we don’t see much of each other anyway, we are avoiding each other’s company, that much is clear and it will be way easier to stop thinking of her if there’s so much less chance of running into her.

For now I’m not going to tell them. After all we have not quite decided yet, although Jane’s enthusiasm at the mere idea would make it hard to reconsider. But I have the feeling it would be way more sensible to just confront them with a fait accompli.

However, today of all days that newspaper seems determined to irritate me to no ends. First my knowledgeable father treats me to a speech on his favorite subject: kids staying at home forever, if they get the chance. Well, even though it is as irritating as always, it also makes me hide a smirk: this kid is not going to stay on any longer, if he can help it. But I manage to swallow back any comment that is forcing its way up.

Then there is the eloquent rustling, which does not last long, because my mother unwisely chooses to comment and in a rather fierce way too, quite unlike her.

“I don’t get it, really, why you keep saying things like that! It will only make Jack feel unwelcome and he is not, he is not! God knows his presence here is much needed!”

That leads to an immediate raising of bushy eyebrows. The newspaper is folded in short, stiff movements.

“So, Sarah… I’m sure you’ll explain to me why Jack’s presence in this house is so much needed, as you put it?”

Sarcasm must be some fluid, sticky substance, the way it’s slowly dripping all over his neatly folded newspaper. This time, however, sarcasm does not stop my mother.

“You know very well what I mean! And you don’t really want me to explain in Jack’s presence, now do you!”

“Then why did you bring it up in Jack’s presence?”

That’s clearly an obstacle to all the things my mother had in mind to say further.

“Well,” she mumbles, “you know…” her voice trails off.

Now my father is visibly drawing up the pleasure of a full victory . As he is sitting up, I suddenly have had enough. So far I have just been watching them alternately, as if I’m watching a tennis game, with a slight grin on my face, but then I realize this is not funny anymore. Although they may often be wrangling , there are hardly ever real rows between them in my presence. And it is certainly a first that my mother actually hints at their kind of relationship.

Before I know it, I just blurt it out.

“I’m moving out.”

“Wha?” My mother’s jaw keeps hanging down in a long ‘aaaa’. And my begetter’s bushy brows are raised sky-high now.

“You can stop arguing about my presence in this house, because I won’t stay much longer. Jane and I are going to find us an apartment. So, ” I look at my father, “you will have to find another pet subject to spoil breakfast with.”

“Well, what do ya know!” My father is swiftly composing himself again. “The little bird is really about to leave the nest! “

On my mother’s side there is just silence… a shocked silence at first, then an indignant one, then a desperate one. Heavy vibes are emanating from my mother’s silence.

My father, however is babbling… a rare state for him, really.

Several questions are launched at me at once. When will this happen? Can we afford it? What neighborhood are we thinking of? Did we find something yet? Whose idea was it? Do we have all the furniture we need? Generously he adds an offer to that one, to donate some funds if needed. He really seems to want me out asap.

My mother’s silence has an unusual finale. Without a word she rises from her seat and walks out, leaving us both in utter perplexity. Never before did we witness such a resolute exodus from my mother. Clearly she must be in some shock.

It does make me feel guilty at once, because it’s on my account, that state of shock she is in… but I’m relieved too. There, I’ve said it. And now that I have said it, it’s a fact. I’m moving out. The sooner the better.

Of course these tidings make Jane walk on air. And to be frank, me too. It feels unexpectedly good to have made a decision like that and to really face independency.

So pendik escort we start searching right away, Part of our nights are now spent with grazing the internet and spelling out ads, although the playing together part is not neglected, of course. We are excited enough with this new prospect to try out whipping and although Jane wails a lot, I’m pretty sure she does appreciate it — maybe not as much as I do, but certainly not that much less either.

My mother’s silence is prolonged, though. Now my daily cereals are munched in the presence of two stone statues, one with a newspaper, one without. The only thing I hear my mother say these days is “good morning” at my entrance, but that’s it. My father only grunts, but that’s nothing new.

Because of the consistent juiced up state I’m in, I’m not really that bothered with my mother’s hardship. It can’t be helped… it could only be helped if I told her I’d stay home after all and no way I’m intending to do any such thing. So I just hope she’ll get over it soon.

She does not. That much is clear after an astonishing event. God… it made me fall from my pink cloud with a hard bump. And it made me jump on another kind of cloud right away. But let me tell this chronologically.

It happened a few days ago. Totally off guard I went into the bathroom. There’s only one bathroom in my parent’s house, but that’s never really a problem.

I was taking a long leak, splashing about and, I think, making those relieved sounds you can make when your bladder has been pretty full.

And while I was shaking off the last drops, I saw, to my abhorrence, in the mirror above the sink next to me that the shower door was opening slowly… and out came my mother, dripping wet, grabbing for the towel, until she looked at me and froze.

I just could not believe my eyes. Surely she must have known I was there before she opened that door… it’s transparent, goddammit! And why the hell didn’t she lock the bathroom door!

Somehow I just knew it was on purpose. Beyond the shadow of doubt she had been waiting for me, to come out while I was still in a compromising position. This just could not be a coincidence.

She just kept staring at me and I was staring back, my cock still in my hand — I was aware of it, but I felt like I could not move until she did. She did not. So finally I shrugged and started putting my member back where it belonged. That elicited a reaction at last.

“Stop!” she said sharply.

“Stop? You want to look at it some more, you… you… ” I could not think of any word that would express what I thought of her right now.

‘No, ” she said curtly, “not look.”

And to my utter astonishment she walked towards me and knelt down before me.

“What… what… woman! What the hell are you doing! Get up right away!”

With her eyes dreamily half-closed, she looked up at me.

“Are you sure you want me to get up, Sir?” Her voice sounded different, somehow. Not my usual sweet mother… this was a sultry tone of voice, but most of all one that seemed aiming to please.

“Sir? Sir? You are calling me Sir?”

Now my ears seemed to be betraying me as well as my eyes. But I had not misunderstood.

With a slow smile she murmured “I know you are… it’s radiating from you… believe me, I know a ‘Sir’ when I see one. And I hope your little Jane appreciates it.”

How the hell did she know about Jane and me, what we were doing, that we were exploring these kinds of things!

I was still staring at her, an incredulous silly little grin on my face. Yet the sub in her appealing to the Dom in me had not missed its effect… I felt my cock growing rapidly and I realized I was still holding it. When I looked down she did too. Then she looked up at me again and she smiled radiantly.

‘You want me to take it in my mouth, don’t you, Sir?”

I did not say a thing, I’m sure, there was nothing but turmoil in my head: desire, anger because I knew why she was doing this, despair because I did not want her to do it and then again pure lust… for her, for my mother.

The lust won… easily. Something on my face must have signaled to her that what she offered was, indeed, what Sir wanted, and she did not hesitate one moment to close her lips around my already throbbing head. Her tongue worked miracles around the glans and along the shaft, while her hand was cradling my balls.

This was really happening. My own mother was giving me a blowjob, in the bathroom, where anybody could just…

Hold that thought, I told myself. Something was not quite right with this picture. Apart from the fact that the whole picture was wrong, of course.

“Stop!” I commanded her. “Close that door first, you slut. You left it open on purpose, I know that… to trap me in here. Did you have some more trapping in mind, by any chance? You want your Lord and Master to come in and see us, right?”

Immediately she obeyed. She got up and closed the door and then she came back into position again, rus escort her eyes down all the time.

“Well?” I said harshly. “You made me ask twice now. This is not something I will let go unpunished.”

She raised her head. She looked incredulously submissive like that, naked, kneeling, her legs wide apart, her firm round breasts protruding… in a position I knew, from my extensive studies, to be called Nadu.

“If you mean your dad, he is not at home, Sir. I was not trying to trap you, Sir. I just forgot to lock the door… and I had not noticed you coming in.”

“You little liar” I hissed. “I would have given you the benefit of the doubt about my father, but no way I’ll believe one second that you left that door open accidentally… Now what shall we do with you? What do you deserve, you filthy little slut?”

“I deserve to be punished, Sir, ” she whispered, her had down again.

“What was that? I did not hear you… speak up!”

“Punishment, Sir!” she said out loud. “Your little slut deserves to be punished!”

“Ah, that’s better, ” I grumbled. My cock was evidently enjoying all this… I don’t think I had ever be as hard as I was now.

“I’ll tell you exactly how you will be punished, you filthy whore. First I will fuck your mouth… and you will not move, but just let me penetrate that hole of yours all the way down your throat. And I don’t give a damn if it makes you gag or not. And then you will bend over that chair over there and offer your ass to me. And I will fuck that hole of yours too. And if you are not clean, if my cock is a mess after I fucked your ass, you will clean it for me. If I’m satisfied with your efforts, I will let you use something other than your tongue. Otherwise you’ll just have to eat your own shit. Is that understood?”

She just nodded. It made me even angrier than I already was. And I knew there should not be anger in a Dom handling his sub… his? Did I really think that just now… his? My mother… mine?

But here it was. All this made me angry first of all. I did not want my mother, I did not!

I had a nice sub of my own, willing to do all I wanted, what the hell would I need my mother for? This was just her way of trying to keep me at home, I knew that… to be her ally against my father, to help her escape him, because… because she could not possibly really want that tyrant, my father.

Harshly I slapped her face… first with my flat hand, then, as a nice possibility occurred to me, with my hard cock. She did not even flinch.

“How did I displease you, Sir?”

I took her chin in a firm grip and tilted her head way back.

“There will be no nodding, you understand? Surely you should know that, an experienced filthy whore like you!”

“No Sir,” she mouthed, her fixed jaw hampering her speech.

With a wry smile I let go of her chin.

“So, are you going to answer my question? Within the next two seconds?”

“It is understood, Sir. You will fuck my throat and my ass and I am to clean up the mess if there is any.”

While she was saying that I was watching her mouth fascinatedly. Those sweet lips, my mother’s sweet lips, were just calmly forming those words… those incredible words, as if it was business as usual for her. Well, it probably was… the acts, but not the actors. Not with her son.

Now my anger was subsiding and lust took over again.

“Get to it, slut, ” I simply ordered her.

So she opened her mouth wide and I just slid my dick in… slowly at first, feeling her palate, her tongue… then feeling some hurdle, the opening of her throat.

It took me to a halt, just for a moment, but only for a moment. Relentlessly I pushed my cock farther in. The sensation was incredible… so damned tight, and knowing I was actually invading someone’s throat… my mother’s throat… was only adding to the horndog that was me, right now, right here, the horndog that was fucking my mother’s mouth.

“Now suck!” I commanded her and she did, sucking my dick with all her might, making a lot of noise, wet, gargling, slobbery sounds, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes because of that big fat obstacle in her throat, my cock, my cock in my slutty mother’s throat.

Slowly I pulled back and with it came a long drool, that kept dangling from her lips.

“Catch that drool, slut, ” I told her. “Use it to lube your ass. Use all the drool coming out of your fucking mouth to make that hole nice and slippery for my cock. “

Without missing a beat she used her whole hand to catch the thread of drool, then stirred two fingers of her other hand in her palm, harvesting a fair amount of dribble and she moved those two shiny, dripping fingers to her back and down, leaning a bit forward to be able to reach her ass hole.

That whole procedure was repeated till all the drool in her hand had moved inside her rectum, or so I assumed. It seemed no easy task, when you did not have at least one hand available to spread your cheeks. But we would see how slippery her hole was.

For now the mouth fucking process was repeated a couple of times as well. After the first few times, while I just kept still in her throat while she was sucking me, I added some pounding to it. It made her excrete a lot more juices, both tears in her eyes and dribble from her mouth.