A Cruel Son

NOTE: This is a decidedly dark story of a son who takes advantage of his mother's weakness for sex and submission to abuse her in all manner of a shameful ways. If dominance and submission are not your cup of tea, I suggest you look for another story. There are many good ones on this site. 

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Outside it was a typical hot, humid, Florida afternoon in early July, but it was cool and comfortable in the air conditioned Palm Beach mansion of the multi-millionaire, William C. Decker. William's 18 year old son, Arnold, was sitting on the living room couch with his mother, Evita Maria Corazon Montez Decker, seated beside him. 

Evita Decker was the beautiful Cuban mestiza who some 20 plus years before had married the "muy Rico Americano", or as others said of her less kindly, she was the "spic tramp with the Solid Gold Pussy." 'They' said the marriage would not last, but two children in the first two and a half years had carried the union along. The first child, a daughter, had been of little interest to Evita's husband, but the second was the boy, Arnold, who would forever be the apple of his father's eye. Whether William Decker might have otherwise shed his Hispanic wife was an open question, but the arrival of a son made all the difference. Arnold was to have everything his father could provide, and that included a full-time live-in biological mother to raise him. 

Seated on the other side of a coffee table from Arnold and Evita, were three of Arnold's classmates from his prep school. All were about Arnold's age or perhaps a year or two older. They had arrived only the day before for a summer vacation visit. Crude and ill mannered (as her son's friends so often were) Evita took an immediate dislike to them all. 

How could such disreputable young men be from an expensive and presumably prestigious private school? Evita sometimes asked herself the same question about her own son. The Sullivan College Preparatory School for Young Gentlemen had accepted Arnold despite his previous academic failures and behavioral malfeasance. Evita suspected that the school was not so much interested in academic excellence as it was in 'Young Gentlemen' with wayward histories rich enough to pay an outrageous tuition. 

Her three guests certainly seem to confirm that suspicion. The language from the other side of the coffee table was straight out of the gutter. None of the boys seemed to care in the least that a lady was present and listening to their foul mouths. All of them, including her own son, peppered their sentences with the f-word. If their extraordinarily raw dirty jokes weren't indiscreet enough, they bragged endlessly, often in excruciatingly dirty detail, of their sexual exploits with a wide variety of women. 

At first glance the scion of the Decker family would have seemed to have little in common with his three friends. For one thing he was clean shaven, his hair was cut short, he was dressed in pants that fit, and he was better looking. Indeed, Arnold Decker was quite handsome with dark hair, a straight patrician nose, a chiseled chin, and 6 feet of muscular frame. Given a closer look, however, he fit in quite well with his classmates. His language was quite as vulgar as theirs, and he was every bit the same breed of egotistical self-centered bully obsessed with sex. 

For all of his 18 years Arnold had been doted over by his wealthy father willing to excuse his son of anything, however reprehensible or even criminal his behavior. That the boy had matured into something of a spoiled, arrogant, bully was not at all unpredictable even though his father did not seem to notice. Evita, however, had watched with alarm the deterioration in her son's behavior and she could see it was accelerating. 

This afternoon, however, Arnold was unusually passive, only occasionally offering a comment. He seemed distracted, hardly aware of the ongoing conversation. A coy smile never left his face as if he was listening to a joke that no one else could hear. Evita wondered if he was high on something. If so it would not have been the first time. 

Evita was decidedly nervous and uncomfortable about the situation in which she found herself. The vulgar language and ribald conversation was embarrassing and distressing to her. Her son was unaccountably bombed, too 'out of it' to be have any concern as the conversation became ever nastier. 

Then there was the way her three 'guests' stared at her. Evita was certain each boy was undressing her in his mind, imagining what she might look like sprawled naked on the floor with her legs spread, ready to be raped. How evil and personal that erotic vision must to been to burn its way into Evita's consciousness where she too could see herself nude and waiting helplessly to be violated. Evita shuddered. It was not a comforting thought. 

As the afternoon wore on Evita became more and more uneasy until finally she found herself on the edge of panic. Several times she gave some excuse to leave, but Arnold would not allow her to go. It troubled her that she could not make such a simple decision without her son's permission, but lately, since 'that night', that is how things were in the Decker mansion. To have lost control over her own home was frightening, all the more so because Arnold seemed to have no boundaries, no restraints, when it came to this own pleasure. That smug smile across his face scared her. What did he have in mind? 

She was not long in finding out. Out-of-the-blue Arnold brought the ongoing thread of conversation to an abrupt halt with a brusque order.

"Stand up mother!" 

When the woman beside him didn't move, he repeated his order, louder this time. 

"I SAID, STAND UP BITCH! NOW!"

For just a moment, the older woman fidgeted nervously with the string of pearls around her neck, desperately stalling for time to think. "What is he up to?" she wondered. What ever it was, Evita Decker was distressed by the hard tone of her son's voice. She had known for a long time that her son's cruelty bordered on the psychotic, and she was fearful of what he might ask of her. 

She had every reason to be. It had been only a week since 'that night'. It had been on 'that night' when in a moment of drunken weakness she had invited her son to fuck her. Her husband had left the day before, on an extended business trip to Europe, and he expected to be away for a month. Evita had been angry and hurt that he refused to take her along. 'That night' Evita was bitter, drunk from too much wine, and aroused from watching an X-rated videotape. It was for a bit of revenge that a horny, intoxicated, and foolish wife had invited her son into her bed. 

That had been a terrible mistake. Since 'that night' Arnold had made her life a living hell. Anytime she did not grant his every wish, he would threaten to tell his father was a slut she was, even to do so immediately by wire to Europe. Of course, Arnold's insistence on his mother's obedience included his continued access to her sexual favors, but that was only the beginning. Not satisfied to merely fuck her, the price for his silence was her total and absolute submission. Evita had become the sex slave of her own son. 

After 'that night', Arnold always slept with his mother. As it suited him, even in the wee hours of the morning, he would awaken her and order her to service the rampant hard-on that seemed to be a permanent part of his anatomy. Nor was sex every night enough to satisfy Arnold's incredible libido. At least twice during the day, sometimes even more often, this oversexed and constantly horny teenager would insist that his cowed mother suck him off, and /or spread her legs to make her pretty pussy available for his use and pleasure. 

Evita had tried her best to resist. She understood quite well what she was being forced to do was both immoral and unlawful, but then how could she do otherwise? Arnold's threat to tell his father of their affair was too real and too frightening to be ignored. 

Yet, were things actually that simple? Was it only her fear of exposure that kept her legs spread, and her pussy available, for the pleasure of her incestuous paramour? Evita could not be sure. Could it be that it was her own desire, her own need to be filled with male meat, that had turned her into her own son's sexual plaything? 

Even though that it might be true made Evita feel guilty, there was good reason to ask the question. She had never before experienced the kind of soul shattering sex she was having with her son. As much as she hated to admit that truth, whenever she was wrapped in her son's arms with his penis deep inside her, she was as helpless as a lost child. He never failed to light a fire in her pussy, and she consistently responded to him with orgasms that were infinitely more intense, and more pleasurable, than any she had ever enjoyed before. 

Even when Arnold butt fucked her, his cock was an addictive drug to her. She had never considered anal sex before. She had thought of it as too painful and degrading to be enjoyable to a woman. It took only one night for Arnold to prove to her how wrong she had been. After that lesson, she would beg him quite shamelessly to fuck her ass. The words of her pitiful pleas still rang in her ears, a recording she could not erase. 

"Oh Arnold please! Please, in my ass, give it to me! Fuck my ass!"

Arnold was a dominating lover, one who enjoyed humbling and humiliating his women, and who did so regularly to his mother with a special cruelty. True, her sexuality fed upon her submission to his abuse, but she was frightened, frightened of her inability to resist him, frightened that she was truly the slut her son so often called her. 

"Stand up," her cruel son had ordered. 

Why stand up? What dirty shameful performance did he have in mind for her this afternoon? Whatever it was, he had forced her to grovel at his feet too many times for her to expect any mercy. In her panic and despair she asked herself "Oh God, how did I get myself into this?" 

Yet trapped, and intimidated by the anger in Arnold's voice, Evita Decker had no alternative but to do as her son demanded. The three boys on the other side of the coffee table leaned forward, hardly breathing, as if waiting with anticipation for something Evita could only guess. She shuddered at the expressions she saw on their faces. These were not guests! These were predators! Predators on the hunt for female flesh! Would Arnold feed hers to their evil lusts? 

Slowly she stood, tall and proud with her chin up, trying her best to hide her fear. 

Evita Decker was no longer young. Her buttocks were broader now, and her breasts more full, as befitted a mature woman who had born two children. She had struggled hard against the erosion of time, however, and for the most part she had kept her weight down. True, her body had changed some, but her legs were still long and well shaped, and her muscles were firm and supple from a regular regimen of exercise at the gym. All in all, despite her 43 years, Evita Decker still had a shape that most women of any age would be pleased to own. 

Nor was her body her only asset. With a little help from her hair dresser, her short bobbed hair was still jet black, and it framed a pretty face with the perfect pale skin, high cheek bones, and flashing black eyes she had inherited from her Spanish ancestors. Indeed, but for the small roll of 'mother fat' across her midsection, Evita was hardly marked by the passing years. Overall she was a striking woman who could have passed for 10 years younger. 

"What is it Arnold?" She asked quietly hoping for the best. "What is it you want me to do?"

"I want you to show my friends your tits and pussy," was her son's answer. "I have told them all about what a sexy 'bod' my mother has. Now I want them to see for themselves, in the flesh."

"No! Please Arnold! I can't do that! Please don't ask me," the distraught woman begged. Tears welled up in her eyes. What kind of a monster had she borne and raised? 

"Now mother," her son smugly threatened. "They know what a slut you are. They have already seen the pictures. You do remember the pictures don't you?"

Evita's mind reeled. God yes! Certainly she remembered those awful pictures. Oh yes! Each photograph was as clear in her mind as if the offending images had been spread on the coffee table before her. 

In the first set of four or five Evita was naked and astride her nude son, sliding her wet glistening pussy up and down over his hard upright penis. In each one, her son's hands were on the full breasts that dangled over his chest, squeezing them, teasing her nipples, driving her to erotic distraction. 

They say pictures do not lie. These certainly didn't. Her eyes were glassy, her mouth agape, and the blank expression on her face confessed to the paralyzing passion that gripped her. Beyond any doubt, this was a woman in heat, a wanton slut enjoying every inch of the male erection that filled her pussy to the brim. It was no wonder that she had not been aware at the time that she had been caught in the act, and her lust documented on film for posterity. 

There were others scenes as well, scenes equally explicit, and equally damning. Pornographic in the extreme were the close-ups of her cunt stretched to its limit around her son's big cock. Another set of four photographs showed Evita on her knees and elbows with Arnold behind her pumping her pussy with his big cock. To be caught on film being incestuously dog fucked like a bitch in heat was bad enough, but that was by no means the worst of it. The picture clearly showed her head between a pair of shapely spread legs, and her mouth pressing down on a shaven cunt. 

Those legs, that cunt, had belonged to her daughter Delores. Yes, Evita remembered the pictures. How could she possibly forget? 

"Of course you do mother." Her son was smugly sure of himself as he reminded the tormented woman of the terrible consequences of her mistake, consequences made all the more threatening by the hard edge in her son's voice. 

"Do you think your stuck-up friends at the Country Club will enjoy the pictures as much as my friends here have? And Dad? What about dear old Dad? What you think that crotchety pompous old son of a bitch will do when he sees them? Divorce you certainly, and throw you out in the street without a dime either if I know his lawyers."

Arnold once more arrogantly demanded his mother's obedience. 

"We don't want that now do we mother? Let's all get along together. It will be so much better if you do what you're told. Now! Bitch! Do as I say! Open your blouse and show my friends your tits and those pretty nipples."

Slowly, button by button, Evita did as she was ordered. When the last button was undone, she pulled her shirt front open. She wore no bra and her breasts stood out proud and lovely with long sensitive nipples. A shrug of her shoulders and the blouse fell off her back onto the floor. Nude from the waist up, but too proud to cower, she kept her head up with her eyes open and frozen on the boys staring lustfully at her bare bosom. 

She could see the hunger in their eyes, and once again she wondered if her son would 'pass her around' to his companions as if she was some 'biker bitch' slave of a Hell's Angel. That question, however, faded behind a flood of emotions more personal and pressing. The eroticism of being forced to show her breasts to these strangers had sent her imagination into an erotic spin that overwhelmed even her guilt and fear. 

Momentarily Evita lost touch with reality. To be made to stand with her breasts on display before these three teenage hoodlums inflamed her imagination. Images of herself as the captive of barbarian pirates ran in front of her eyes. What would these awful people do with a helpless female? Surely they would make her their slut, and use her body for their pleasure, but how? Would one of them take her as his personal sex slave, or would she be community property, forced to fuck and suck them all? 

"Oh God," she thought. "Why do I think of such things?" Yet she could not help herself. The erotic images branded her consciousness, and set her on fire. To her dismay, she could feel her pussy becoming moist and her nipples growing hard.

"Now the skirt mother, lose the skirt!" Arnold commanded. 

The big button on her hip guarded the three inches of zipper that loosened the waistband of the skirt. The button opened, and down came the zipper slide. The skirt fell off her hips into a pile around her feet. Evita Decker was now entirely bare except for garter belt, hose, high heels, and of course the string of expensive pearls that decorated her lovely breasts. The three boys watching her were very nearly ready to drool. 

"Isn't she lovely guys?" Arnold asked. "She is even more so when she is worked up a little. Let's have her perform for us."

Arnold turned back to his mother and demanded, "That's pretty good bitch, but my friends would like to see more. Spread your legs and stick a finger up your pussy. Rub your clit with your thumb. No cheating tho. Remember, you are not allowed to get off until I give the word."

Evita groaned with frustration. After Arnold fucked her 'that night', he had never again allowed her to orgasm without his permission. Controlling her orgasm was his special torture, but how could she possibly deny herself this time? Already she could feel a climax building in her ovaries. Ashamed as she was, she could not help herself. To be forced to pose naked before teen-age boys she hardly knew with spread legs and a finger hooked inside her pussy was somehow so excruciatingly erotic. It would not be long before Her orgasm came bubbling to the surface. Could she somehow hold it back? She knew she must, no matter how unbearable her need. 

She wondered, "Oh God, what could be next? How else might Arnold use her to pleasure himself and his friends? Rape perhaps? Of her mouth? Of her pussy? Of her ass?" 

Evita blushed a pretty pink from head to toe at the very thought of such an awful, unthinkable, but devastatingly erotic, future. As if reading her mind Arnold, grinned like the Cheshire cat and began to interrogate his prisoner. 

"Tell me Mother, why aren't you wearing panties and a bra?"

Evita hesitated only for a second before answering, "You know that you have forbidden me to wear bras and panties anymore." 

"Why is your pussy shaved. You didn't shave your pussy when you were fucking dear old Dad?"

"Yes son, I know. I didn't shave my pussy before, but I do now because you have told me I must." 

"Mother, shame on you! Only a slut shaves her pussy and then goes around without underwear. You know that. Are you a slut Mother?"

Brainwashed, tortured by guilt for the emotions that were overwhelming her, and desperate for the release of her pending orgasm, Evita had no defenses left. Bitterly she gave the answer she knew Arnold wanted to hear. 

"Yes son, your mother is a slut."

Arnold's answer was both sarcastic and accusing. "Why then am I to blame that you are without underwear? Is it my fault you are a slut?" 

He paused for dramatic effect, and then asked, "Should I show you the photographs again Mother? Was I forcing you to bounce up and down on my cock? Tell them why my penis was in your cunt. Tell my friends here the truth about how you seduced me. Tell them how you dropped your nightgown, let me feel your tits, enticed me into your bed, and took your pleasure on my dick." 

"No Arnold you didn't force me. Your penis was in my cunt because I wanted it there. I wanted you to fuck me. I rode my pussy on your penis because I am a slut, and because it was so big and hard. I needed it so. It felt so good inside me." 

Evita answered in a voice filled with guilt. It was true! On 'that night' she had been the seducer. Without any pressure from her son, and without even his encouragement, Evita had stripped off her nightgown, fallen shamelessly into his arms, kissed him, and lifted his hands to her breasts. On her back with her knees up and spread, she had taken him by his wrists and pulled him down onto her body and between her legs. At the critical moment it had been her fingers, not his, that reached into his groin and inserted his big cock into her pussy. 

She would never forget how good she felt with him inside her. Since then she had been his sex toy, unable to resist his cock. Now, standing before her son and his friends, her soul as well as her body stripped naked for all to see, Evita could no longer face the cruel and hungry eyes that were devouring her. Her head bowed with shame, and she dropped her eyes to stare at the floor. 

"Is your pussy wet mother?" Arnold asked smirking, and fully aware of his victory over this distraught woman. 

"Yes Arnold, my pussy is wet, very wet." She answered without looking up.

"Why is your pussy wet mother?"

"Because I am a slut who needs to be fucked. Because I need my son to fuck me."

"Prove it mother! Show me and my friends how wet you are."

"This is horrible," Evita thought. Although not the first time Arnold had demanded that she perform for him like a trained bitch, it was so much worse with these boys watching. Still, it was true. Her pussy WAS wet, running like a river in fact, and she did so need him to fuck her. No, her need was greater than that. She might die if he did not soon fill her cunt with his male meat. 

"God help me!" she prayed in silent desperation for the strength to resist, yet panicked by and overwhelming desire for her son's cock. Helpless, she knew she would do anything he asked of her. 

With the expression of a trapped animal, Evita removed her hand from between her legs and held up her finger for inspection. Sure enough, it betrayed her. Her pussy juices glistened down its length and seeped down into her palm, testifying to her sensual arousal and excitement. 

"What a mess!" Arnold's eyes never left hers as he prompted, "What do we do now mother? What does a slut do with a finger sopping with her own wet?"

Evita knew very well what he wanted. This ritual of cleaning her finger and hand with her mouth was Arnold's usual way proving her submission. Closing her eyes to avoid looking into the faces of her audience, she first licked her wet from the palm, then slid the offending finger between her lips and began to suck. The taste from her pussy was salty and pungent, testifying to the level of her excitement. 

"You like the flavor of a hot pussy don't you mother? What a slut you are! Put your finger back in your pussy. Fuck yourself with it! Now bitch! Do it! Lift a tit and lick your nipple. Perform for us!! Make yourself cum!! Make our dicks hard!! If you want me to fuck you, show us how easy it is for a slut to cum."

Evita did as she was told. Disgraceful! Ashamed but lusting to have his cock inside her, she did what she had to do, attacking her pussy with her finger, plunging it in and out with machine-gun rapidity, and all the while stroking her clit with her thumb. With her other hand she pushed her left breast upward and reached for its nipple with her tongue. Already driven to the edge by her erotic display, an orgasm flooded her body without warning. 

Evita groaned in pain as her ovaries cramped. That delicious hurt in her belly drove her to her knees on the floor, and left her stooped over at the waist. Her hand that had been lifting a nipple to her mouth closed in spasm squeezing the blood from that tender breast. There would be bruises on her tit tomorrow. The hand driving its finger into her pussy clenched itself into a fist around her female core, locking that hard working finger inside the moist hole it had so effectively pleasured. Minutes ticked by as Evita knelt before her son that way, frozen by her orgasm into a statue of total submission.

"What is this you disobedient bitch?" Arnold's face contorted into a mask of evil as he chastised his mother. "Didn't I tell you not to cum without my permission?"

"Yes, but I thought you wanted..." Evita tried to explain. 

Her son cut his mother short. "No excuses bitch! You have disobeyed. You will be punished, but first you must apologize. Do you remember how a slut apologizes?"

Evita remembered, she remembered all too well. Still on her knees she crawled to her son's feet. First from one foot and then the other, she removed his shoes and socks, then lifting a foot to her mouth, she began to lick its bare instep before moving downward to his toes. 

"That's right momma, run your tongue in there between my toes," Arnold sarcastically taunting the naked woman kneeling at his feet. "You suck a toe almost as well as a cock. Is sucking 101 a required course in the slut school for wayward mothers?"

Then turning to his nearest friend he asked, "How about you Joe? Would you like Mother Dearest here to clean your foot?

Joe blushed a beet red around the jowls, but he nodded almost imperceptibly, "Yes!"

Arnold pulled his foot away from Evita's attention, and placed it firmly at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Straightening his leg, he half kicked half shoved her backward onto her haunches. 

"Crawl over to Joe and suck his toes," he ordered. "It will be good practice when it comes time for you to suck his cock."

Evita's heart sank. He was going to make her lick this stranger's dirty foot. Worse, if he was serious, and she was sure he was, he had confirmed her worst fears. Later he would give her to his friends to enjoy. They would fuck her mouth, and perhaps her pussy as well. She looked up pitifully at the son she had raised, and with tears in her thighs she begged, "Please Arnold..."

That was all she had a chance to say before he slapped her across the face. 

"You will do as I say bitch. You don't have any choice. Crawl over there and take his shoe and sock off. Joe has a dirty foot. Clean it! 

He was right! She had no choice! For the next 10 minutes she groveled on the floor before this 'Joe' cleaning his foot with her mouth and tongue. 

"Good job mother! That will do for now. It is time now for you to be punished for cumming without permission." Even as he spoke Arnold brought a straight back chair without armrests from across the room and seated himself beside his friend Joe. 

"Present your ass bitch!" Arnold ordered. "You know the drill. NOW!"

Evita did know. Since 'that night', Arnold had spanked her often. She stood, turned to face her tormentor, then draped her body full length across his lap presenting the tender cheeks of her ass to his will. Arched over her son's thighs Evita braced herself with her fingertips and toes for the blows she knew was coming. Her head and upper body hung down on one side of his lap, and her legs to the other. Her full breasts dangled and swayed under her, and she could see only her son's feet and the oriental rug beneath them. Helpless and resigned, she awaited her fate. 

That fate, however, would be delayed while Arnold took advantage of this opportunity to further torture and humble his helpless mother. Not only was her most private parts exposed to the hungry eyes of his friends, her female juices were pouring from her pussy and running in a steady drip down her thighs. Arnold knew his mother would be ashamed to be so obviously in heat, and ready, even eager, to be fucked. 

Arnold's finger made her humiliating situation even worse. First it stroked up and down along the lips of the feminine slit squeezed between her thighs. Next it slid upward between the cheeks of her ass and probed at the puckered hole it found there. Evita could not stifle the moan that escaped from deep inside her. 

"Oh God! Please..." she whispered under her breath as that inquiring finger buried itself to the second knuckle inside her ass. 

Please what? Was she asking him to please stop, or to please fuck her? Evita could not have said for certain, even though to be probed this way was nothing new for her. Arnold always played with her feminine core this way before he spanked her, finger fucking her slit, then loosening her other hole, as he prepared her for the ass fucking that inevitably followed a spanking. 

"Will he fuck my ass in front of his friends," Evita wondered. "Surely he would not shame his own mother that way," she argued with herself hopefully, but she knew very well that her cruel son did not care about her shame, and was more than likely to do just that. 

As his fingers continued to tease, however, her thoughts were distracted by a more immediate question. How long would he make her suffer like this? If he did not stop soon, she was sure to orgasm again without permission. She must not do that! Her punishment would be doubled. 

"Please no..." she told herself, struggling for control despite an inflamed feminine core trapped between a finger hooked into her pussy, and a thumb buried deep in her ass. 

Finally he began! The pain was almost a relief. 

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!... Arnold's open hand fell hard and heavy across Evita's buttocks between a dozen to perhaps 20 times. The cheeks of her ass turned a fiery red under his beating. Evita sobbed quietly, whimpering in pain with each strike. 

Finally she began to plead, " Please, no more, I'll be good. I promise!"

"Are you sure? You will do is you're told?" she was asked. 

"Oh yes! I promise. I will do anything you say. Just don't spank me anymore."

"Spread your legs mother," he ordered. "I'm going to play with your pussy now, and I want my friends to see how easily you can be made to squirm and beg to be fucked."

"SPREAD 'EM FOR ME BITCH!"

It had been so difficult before to hold back her orgasm, but it was much more so now. With her legs spread, his hands had full access to her sensitive sex and nether hole, and they were at her with a vengeance, stroking the walls of her pussy searching for her G-spot..., and Oh God..., that thumb deep in her ass! 

How could she stand the torture of his hands without relief? In desperation Evita struggled mightily to control her need. True, she squirmed and begged just as Arnold had predicted that she would. Still, she was able to hold herself in check. To cum without permission meant another spanking, and with her ass cheeks already on fire, another spanking would be more than she could bear. 

Momentarily, thankfully, her son's fingers were no longer inside her. She heard him ask his friend, "How about it Joe? Would you like to take a go at her?"

Evita could not see him but she knew that this was a new set of fingers. For a long five minutes Joe teased her pussy and ass pushing her buttons until she hung trembling on the edge of an urgent climax. Then the method changed. The fingers were gone, replaced by a long wet tongue, a tongue that ruthlessly licked at her clit, fucked her pussy, and reamed her ass, in short stabbing strokes. 

Evita renewed her pleas to her son. "Arnold, if you ever loved your mother, please let me cum. I cannot stand this any longer. You must let me cum. Please, please...."

To her surprise he relented. Why? Who can say? Possibly his mother's orgasm was a gift to his friends. More probably he knew how guilty she would be when she realized she had cum like a whore on the tongue of a total stranger. Her son would undoubtedly remind her that to be a slut was one thing, but to be a whore is quite another. 

In any event Evita was allowed the orgasm she needed so badly. It was not to be the end for her, however. Only moments after her spasms subsided, the second friend, Harvey, took the place of Joe behind her. With fingers and tongue Harvey once more forced her to climb the mountain to an inevitable orgasm. Once more she would squirm and beg, and once more her pleas for permission to cum were eventually granted. 

Then it was the turn of the third friend, Fred. With Fred, the buildup was the same, as he played with her clit, and finger and tongue fucked her pussy and anus. The finish, however, was different. When she begged for her orgasm, Arnold refused. Instead he demanded what Evita had feared from the beginning. 

"Mother, you are such a slut? Look what you've done! Just look at the bulge in Fred's pants. You have gone and made the poor guy's dick all hard. He needs to cum and it's all your fault. What are you going to do about this? Actually there isn't but one thing. Beg my friend to fuck you. Tell him how badly you want his cock. Beg for it bitch!

Evita had no will left with which to resist. 

"Yes, Please, fuck me Fred! Fuck me now! I will make it so good for you, the best piece of ass you ever had. 

Arnold interrupted, "Where should he fuck you mother? Which hole are you offering to him?"

Evita hesitated, but only briefly. She understood quite well what her son wanted. He wanted her to shame herself by begging this awful boy to butt fuck her. She didn't care! Desperately she needed a cock inside her somewhere, anywhere! 

"In my ass! Please fuck my ass! Oh please Fred! I am so hot! I need it so bad! PLEASE FUCK ME UP MY ASS!" 

Arnold dumped his mother off his lap and onto the floor with the instruction, "On your hands and knees slut! Show Fred your worthless slutty ass! Tell us again what you want bitch."

As she scrambled to do as she was told, Evita begged once more for her bottom to be filled with male meat. 

"Please Fred, take me! Fuck my ass. Stick it in my back hole and fuck me, Oh Please! Fuck me please!

Fred dropped his pants and stripped off his shirt. Evita waited impatiently on her hands and knees, trembling with need, her head down staring at the floor. It seemed an eternity to her, but it could only have been a moment or two until this boy she hardly knew straddled her head, and with a fistful of her hair, yanked her face upward into his crotch. 

"Open your mouth Momma slut! Suck me!" he ordered. "It's for your own good. Make me wet and slick for your ass."

Evita was willing. Turned-on and desperate, it was a relief just to have a penis in her mouth, to taste that male flavor once more, and anyway, she knew he was right. It would be less painful if his cock was wet and slick when he took her. Her mouth felt equally delightful to Fred as the vacuum of her mouth pulled at the tiny passages inside his balls. 

It appeared for a time that distracted by that delicious blowjob, both Fred and Evita had forgotten the rape of her ass. Not so! Evita needed to be fucked, so much so that without being told she pulled her head back, allowing her prize to slip from her lips. A drool of saliva and pre-cum dripped from her mouth, and down her chin. 

Once more she begged, "Oh please! First put it in my pussy, I am so wet and slick there! Then for the love of God, give it to me in my ass."

Fred obliged her. She screamed as he slid his cock home into that sopping cunt. He teased her, pulling back, then driving himself deep, so deep he touched her womb, once, twice, three times. Evita shamelessly shouted out to the world her delight at each thrust. 

Slick with her juices, Fred withdrew from Evita's pussy. Raising his hard-on those forbidden two inches, he pressed his big round cock head hard against a butt hole still partially stretched from all those fingers that had probed her there. Her sphincter muscle gave way easily to his first thrust. Greasy with female wet and saliva, Evita's house guest fucked her bowel with sooth deep strokes, riding high on her tailbone with his legs astride her raised hips. 

It was all so much more than Evita could take. She needed to climax as badly as she ever had in her life. Pitifully she raised her head to look at Arnold, and begged for his permission. 

"Please son, let your mother cum. She so needs to cum! Oh please son! His cock feels so good up my ass! I'm on fire! Please have mercy! Your slut mother can't take it anymore!"

Arnold hesitated. He was enjoying his mother's distress, but he knew that she wouldn't be able to hold back much longer. It would set a bad precedent if she was to surrender to her passion and climax without his permission. The smart thing was to allow her the orgasm that was probably unavoidable. Nodding his head in agreement, he told the tortured woman with the six inches of hard penis burried in her rectum, "Yes mother, you may come now."

"Oh Arnold! Thank you! Thank you!" and with her relief approved, Evita began to babble incoherently in the throes of a shattering orgasm. Her explosion set the mark for Fred as well, and he simultaneously filled her intestine with the goo of his ejaculation. 

With her release came relaxation. Unable to support her body any longer, Evita's arms gave way at the elbows, and she pitched forward face down and belly flat on the floor. Fred followed, falling on top of her, his chest resting on the soft smooth skin of her nude back, his breath blowing on her neck, and his legs rubbing on her nylons from thighs to ankles. His cock, no longer the great weapon it had so recently been, lay soft and inert between the cheeks of her ass soaking in the warm sperm that was oozing in a sticky stream from Evita's stretched and plundered nether hole. 

Well done Fred, "Arnold complemented his friend." I couldn't have done better myself. Isn't that right mother?" The question was rhetorical. Arnold wasn't looking for an answer and he didn't wait for one. "It's almost time for dinner. How about we freshen up and sharpen our appetite before we eat? Let's all go soak in a hot tub for a while and sip a little wine."

The men stripped off whatever clothes they still had on, and Evita peeled off her pearls, garter belt, shoes, and hose. Arnold took her by the hand, and with this three friends following along, he led her to the pool patio where a tub of hot bubbling water large enough for all five of them waited. George, the head butler and her husband's 'Man Friday', along with two other servants, brought towels, glasses and ice buckets of champagne. 

Evita was embarrassed by her situation. What must the servants think of her cavorting in the nude with her equally nude son and friends? Even worse, everyone was probably aware that something unusual had gone on this afternoon in the mansion living-room. The house staff could hardly have missed hearing Evita's screaming in the passion of her orgasms. 

Accustomed as she was to servants working silently around her, unnoticed and almost invisible, it had not occurred to Evita the danger that they were to her incestuous secret. Even before this afternoon, how much did the servants know what had been going on between she and her son? Certainly, at the very least, the butler George must have known that Arnold was sleeping with his mother. 

The servants would gossip. That was the way of servants. Would that gossip get back to her husband? If it didn't, would George tell him anyway? George? What about George? He had always befriended her in the past. He was always professionally discreet. He was also the absolute master of the house, and he could keep the other servants quiet if he chose to do so. There might be hope here. Perhaps George would take her side and help her find a way out of this terrible mess she was in. 

Arnold saw her staring intently at the butler, and guessed at her thought. As soon as George left the room, Arnold wasted no time in dashing any hope his mother might have had of finding an ally. 

"Don't even think about it Momma slut," Arnold told her. "George isn't going to help you any. He knows who signs the checks around here. He also knows he is overpaid to keep his mouth shut about things that don't concern him. Anyway, you needn't be embarrassed about parading your naked pussy in front of him. George has already seen that pretty slit of yours, although he might not recognize it without my cock in it. Who you think took those pictures of you in action?" 

"Of course!" she thought. She had been so concerned about the pictures themselves, she had hardly them considered who might have taken them, but logically George was the most likely candidate. "God what a bastard her son was."

Arnold and his friends were already soaking in the hot tub, a glass of champagne in everyone's hand. Arnold motioned for Evita to join him, and as she stepped into the hot bubbling water, he sat his champagne glass down and pulled her onto his lap with her back against his chest. Under her she could feel his already hard cock pressed flat along the crack of her ass. Arnold hugged her in strong arms pressing his body deliciously tight against her own. In each hand he cupped a breast pinching the nipples between his knuckles. The twinge in her tit nubs was not a cruel pain, but a hurt to be savored and enjoyed. Evita couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips. 

"Spread your legs Mother Dearest. Lift your pretty ass up for a second," he directed. 

As instructed she draped her legs over the top of his thighs, and dropped her feet to the bottom of the tub. Bracing her toes there, she lifted herself just enough that he could slide a hand under her groin. She could feel him fumbling at her bottom, and for a moment she was puzzled at what he was about, but then came understanding. 

"Ah yes! God yes!" She recognized his preparation. Under her raised hips, his hand had shifted his erection from flat between her buttocks to an upright pole probing the lips of her pussy, seeking to enter her female center. Gladly she relaxed her thighs, and dropped her cunt over his member, swallowing the full length of his long rod in one smooth downward slide. 

She wanted badly to rock her hips and jack herself off over the penis that filled her, but Arnold had other ideas. She may have captured his manhood inside her pussy, but her son made it clear that she was the one who was the prisoner here. His arms locked around her body, holding her fully impaled upon his penis, refusing to allow her to move. 

"Don't slut!" Arnold commanded. "Don't move! Only your cunt! Squeeze me with the inside of your cunt. Think about it! You can do it. A snapping pussy just requires a little effort and concentration. Close your eyes and feel how filled you are. Think about how good it is to be bred. Concentrate on how you will cum when I shoot inside you. Let the muscles in your pussy walls takeover. "

It was true. Once Evita focused on the cock inside her, she could feel her vagina gradually taking hold, gripping and then releasing, massaging the great male member that stuffed her. Momentarily, in the throes of her excitement, her eyes fluttered open. A servant was intently staring at her, his attention attracted by the low moans that Evita could not suppress. Although mother and son were partially hidden under the bubbling water, the servant could see Arnold's hands cupping Evita's breasts, and he must have guessed that beneath the surface their sexes were joined in an incestuous union. The butler, George, however, saw the servant gawking, and quickly shooed him away whispering in his ear that none of this was any of his business. 

For perhaps 30 minutes Evita struggled to squeeze the erection of her son with the insides of her sex. So sensitive did she become to the male meat filling her that before long she could feel the throb of his pulse beating against the walls of her stretched pussy. In time Arnold could withstand her grip no more, and the spasms of his ejaculation sprayed the entrance to her womb with his seed. 

Evita needed her own orgasm, and needed it badly. Nevertheless, still another concern about what she was doing popped into her head. "What if her son made her pregnant?" 

Her husband had been fixed after Arnold was born. Since then Evita had not been on the pill. That her son might impregnate her was a fear that had nagged at Evita ever since 'that night', but always, as now, it was a fear secondary to her addiction to Arnold's cock and the pleasure waiting for her if only her son would permit it. 

"Please," she begged him. "Please son! May I cum with you. Let me be your woman. Do with me is you will, but please, let me cum while your cock is still hard and inside me."

"Yes mother! Yes, you may cum! Cum on my cock like the slut you are. Show me how much a slut loves taking cock." 

The explosion that shook Evita's body was massive and prolonged, but at last her passion waned, and she was able to open her eyes. The servants were gone, leaving behind a buffet of shrimp, sandwiches, soup and salad, and of course more champagne. Arnold's three friends were still soaking in the tub grinning at her. Obviously they had enjoyed watching the pornographic show of a woman riding her son's cock to orgasm. 

Evita blushed even though she told herself she was being silly. After all, she had been on naked display before these strangers all afternoon, and been fucked in the ass by one of them. Anyway, Arnold and been so tender and loving, and his cock had felt so good inside her, it was worth any embarrassment to be fucked so well. 

Arnold's attitude as a tender lover disappeared. "Out of the tub slut," he ordered his mother. "Get some towels and dry my friends and I off." The servants had laid out dressing gowns for the men to use after they had finished their soak, but there was none for Evita. 

Arnold laughed at her when she asked for a robe. The dirty smirk on his face was echoed in his answer. "Of what use is a slut with clothes on?" 

Speaking slowly as if talking to a child, Arnold explained to his mother her next humiliation, her next horror. 

"A robe would be a waste of time. You see mother, my friends here have each paid me $10 for a blowjob from you tonight. I believe the 50-50 split between the whorehouse and the whore is customary. Your $15 is all there on the table. Take it! It officially certifies you as a whore. That's what you've always wanted isn't it mother..., to be a whore I mean?"

Evita was stunned, unable to answer this son of hers who seem to have no limits to his arrogant cruelty. 

"Answer me slut. Just think of all the cock that whores get, and now you'll be paid for it instead of just giving it away. Fun and profit too! Tell me! Aren't you glad I have made you into a whore?" The hard edge to his voice made it clear what answer he expected. 

What else could she say to this son who now owned her so completely? "Yes Arnold, I'm glad you have made a whore of me." 

"Good because you are going to get each of my friends off before you turn in for tonight. The quicker you suck them dry, the sooner you can go to bed, and you're going to need your sleep. I expect you to be in my bed ready to service my cock tomorrow morning at 6:00 a.m. And Oh Yes, I almost forgot. Since you are now a whore, I want you to look like one. From now on you will go naked and wear this dog collar around your pretty neck. We want your potential customers to know you are a prostitute ready to sell your ass." 

For Evita this was the final humiliation, but there was nothing she could do, and she knew it. Arnold pointed to the floor in front of his chair, and his mother knelt submissively between his thighs as he buckled a broad black dog collar around her neck. 

"Show me was a good whore you are mother," Arnold ordered. "Kiss my cock!' 

Defeated, Evita dropped her head into his crotch and tongue kissed the end of his soft penis. "It was true," Evita thought. "As he said, she was now indelibly marked not just as an incestuous slut but as a whore as well. 

Twenty minutes later she knocked on the bedroom door of her first 'customer'. Joe was sprawled across the bed flat on his back masturbating the fleshy male peg that was sticking straight up from his groin. He told her "Get with it woman! My balls need to be emptied. Give me some good head, and maybe I'll give you a tip."

Evita dutifully laid down between his legs, and took him into her mouth. She could feel her pussy moisten from the realization that she was a collared whore sent by her pimp to suck a man off for money. All her life she had heard about $10 whores, and now she was one. 

"Come on whore! Take it down your throat! Deep throat me! Joe emphasized his commands by grabbing her hair and pulling her down on to his erection, shoving its hard length down her throat. Evita gagged and struggled to breathe, but before her situation became serious, Joe jerked her head upward.

"Now give my hard some real attention bitch. Wrap your tongue around it. Suck Damn you!"

Evita did her best, but Joe refused to be satisfied with her effort. He had paid $10 for this woman's mouth, and he meant to have his money's worth. After a minute, or perhaps two, of sucking on his cock head, Joe yanked her head back down again, plunging his prick even deeper into her throat than before. 

For the next 5 minutes, or was it 15, Evita had no way to tell, he fucked her mouth. First he would drive his member down her throat, then pullout until just the tip end remained between her lips to be fiercely sucked and licked. Thankfully, at last, he gripped her ears and pulling her deep into his crotch, he filled her throat and demanded that she swallow his load. 

Each of her other two 'customers' was an experience similar to Joe's brutal rape of her mouth, except that when Fred ejaculated, he pulled himself from her lips and shot his load into her face. By midnight Evita was finished earning her $15, free to shower and fall into bed for a mercifully deep sleep. 

It was 5:55 a.m. and dawn was just breaking when she opened the door into her bedroom. Arnold was on his back in bed, and seated on his cock facing his feet was his sister, Evita's daughter, Delores. 

"Good Morning momma," Delores called out to her mother. "God but your son has a wonderful cock, but you know that already don't you Mother."

It had been the evening after 'that night' when Delores first joined Evita and Arnold in bed. Without the slightest concern about her mother watching, Evita's daughter had knelt before her brother, removed his soft cock from his jockey shorts, and sucked it into an erection. She then lay on the bed with her legs spread, playing with her pussy, and pleading with him to fuck her. 

Arnold had crawled between those inviting thighs, slid his hard-on into that wet pussy, and with her legs wrapped around his back, he had fucked his sister long and hard. After he had ejaculated, Arnold demanded that Evita clean his cum from his sister's pussy. Evita had refused, but Arnold closed his fist in her hair, and yanked her mouth down onto Delores' pussy. With his other hand he twisted his mother's arm behind her back, pressing it upward against the shoulder blade in a wrestler's hammer lock, until the pain forced Evita to lick her daughter's clit, and tongue fuck her slit. 

The next day Evita learned that Arnold had been fucking his sister almost from the day of his first erection. "Delores is also my slut," he told her. "Now I will have both of you to enjoy at the same time, and I expect the two of you to pleasure each other while I watch." 

At first Evita was overwhelmed with guilt at the very idea of having lesbian sex with Delores. To caress another woman's privates was demeaning enough, but to do so incestuously with her own daughter was unforgivable. 

Under the erotic pressure from her son, however, Evita's resolve waned, and with it her guilt. Indeed, sex with her daughter had opened a whole new horizon of extraordinary pleasure for Evita. Absolute surrender into decadence had come on their third night together. Delores had eaten her pussy and made her cum..., three times. Later the same night, Evita had spread her legs and begged shamelessly for her daughter to fuck her with a strap-on dildo. Her orgasm on that artificial penis had been shattering, and Arnold would never again need to twist his mother's arm to have sex with Delores. 

"Would you like to have a little help from our mother? " Arnold asked Delores. He didn't wait for an answer, however, before ordering Evita to join them. 

"On the bed mother! On your knees! Between my legs! Suck your daughter's nipples! Do it bitch! Now!"

Evita was willing. There was even a hungry glint in her eyes as she stared at the pert young tits of the pretty girl impaled on her son's cock. Delores was obviously in ecstasy from riding her brother, and the expression of pure delight on her face set Evita on fire as well. Without further encouragement she buried her face in the valley between her daughter's breasts. Sensually she walked her tongue up the slope of the left tit until at its peak her lips seized a defenseless nipple and pulled it taut inside her mouth. The tortured teat swelled with blood as Evita first caressed it with her tongue, and then drew it between her teeth. Ever so gently she bit down on that sensitive female nub. 

Delores whimpered with pain and pleasure. What else? Her pussy was stuffed full with her brother's cock, and her nipple was suffering the tender torture of her mother's teeth. Delores trembled and shook as the explosion of her orgasm sent flashes of searing flame from her abused teat down to her clit, and then on deep into her ovaries, sending her rocking back-and-forth on the rod inside her while shouting unnecessary orders. 

"Oh God yes Arnie dear, fuck me! I want it! More! More! Deeper! Give it to me! Give me your cock! All of it! God how I want it! Fuck me Arnie! Fuck me!

Arnold answered by grabbing her hair and pulling her upper body backward. Delores dropped her hands behind her, bracing to insure the angle at their union would not become so great as to separate her from the prize inside her pussy. Arnold interrupted his sister's babble with instructions of his own. 

"Now mother! Lick her clit and my cock. Keep her going until I cum."

Evita knew what to do. This was not the first time she had used her mouth on the junction between her son's penis and her daughter's vagina. As Evita's tongue touched her clit, Delores dissolved as she always did into a continuous rolling climax. Arnold too was ready, unable to resist his mother's tongue and his sister's quivering grabbing pussy. Evita felt his hard-on pulse under her tongue, and she knew he had filled his sister's cunt with his seed. 

Nevertheless Evita stayed with her task, licking at the seal of Delores' stretched pussy around her son's shrinking prick. Conclusive proof of Arnold orgasm soon followed. From the junction between the two sexes seeped his male seed that Evita licked away, savoring every drop. Delores shuddered as Arnold withdrew from her pussy at rolled her onto her back beside him. 

"Clean us!" Arnold commanded his mother. 

Evita understood. Regardless of which of his women he had just fucked, Arnold always insisted that one of the other clean his penis and balls with her mouth and tongue, and then lick his cum from the cunt he had just filled. Evita no longer resisted the ritual of eating her daughter. She had even begun to enjoy her taste, and the way Delores would squirm as Evita's tongue explored the insides of her pussy. 

"My God!" Evita thought as she buried her head in her daughter's crotch. "Arnold is right. I can't get enough! What a slut he has made of me! 

For the next three days Evita adjusted without protest to her new role as a naked collared whore in her own house. She still slept with her son every night, but during the day she was required to sexually service to anyone who wished to use her, including the servants, both male and female. Addicted by her son to sexual excess, she hardly minded her degradation. As chance would have it, she was on her knees sucking the cock of George the butler when her husband opened a telegram in his London hotel room.